“Not a lot,” Ellie admitted. “This is the first time I’ve had Tyler all to myself. But I’ve certainly used up a stack of diapers in a short while.”
“And, who, may I ask,” Mrs. Gray said, in her cultured voice that grated on Ellie’s ears, “is the mother of this child?” The woman was straight as a pine tree, her shoulders squared, her head erect, and Ellie felt doomed as those sharp, green eyes took her measure.
“He belongs to our next-door neighbor. Kate is the schoolteacher.”
“A schoolteacher, with a child?” Mrs. Gray asked, as if the idea of such a thing were out of the question. “She is allowed to teach?”
Ellie felt her own backbone stiffen at the insinuation that Kate was not fit to be in a schoolroom. “Yes, of course,” she said firmly. “The town council realized that Kate is too good a teacher to keep her at home just because she’s had a baby.”
Mrs. Gray leveled a superior look at Ellie, issuing a statement she apparently believed in firmly. “A woman belongs in the home, where she can fulfill her obligations and spend her time on the duties of a wife and mother.”
And wasn’t that about as straitlaced an observation as anyone had ever spouted, Ellie thought. “Well, Kate feels she belongs in the schoolroom, and that’s where she is.”
“And she considers you a fitting substitute, allowing you to care for her child?”
Ellie reached up to brush back the wayward tress of hair that insisted on blurring her vision. “She probably thought I needed practice,” she said quietly. And for the first time, she wondered how she would cope when her own child filled her arms. She’d certainly made a botch of things over the past fifteen minutes or so.
The fact that Win’s mother put her at a disadvantage was the only shred of hope she could find right now in the awkward silence that settled over her kitchen. Overly warm, tremendously clumsy and more ill at ease than she’d ever been in her life, she felt the heat from the cookstove overwhelm her suddenly, and she pulled a chair from beneath the table. She plopped down in it, pulling the baby, blanket and all, toward her, where she could wrap him securely in his lightweight swaddling cloth, and ready him for Kate’s arrival.
Her hands seemed inefficient as she tucked him together, and she concentrated on bundling him as Kate had presented him to her just three hours earlier. Had it only been three hours? Tyler’s fist was wet, the sleeve of his gown drenched where he’d suckled in vain over the past few minutes, and as Ellie’s hand brushed his cheek, he turned to her fingers, his mouth open, seeking nourishment.
“I don’t have anything for you, sweetie,” she whispered, watching in abject horror as his lips attempted to fasten on her knuckle and he discovered that she offered nothing to assuage his hunger. His eyes squinted shut and he howled, a mighty blast that brought Mrs. Gray into action.
She stepped neatly to Ellie’s side and issued her next barrage. “I don’t know what your neighbor was thinking of, allowing you to tend the child. There’s a perfectly good sugar teat going to waste while that child is raising the roof.” Snatching it up, she went to the sink, pumped once and held the cloth-wrapped object under the flow of water for just a fraction of a second, long enough to dampen its surface. Then with purposeful movements, she stalked back to the table and deposited it into Tyler’s open mouth.
He clamped down on it, his jaws working as he sought what little nourishment it offered. Eyes blinking, he concentrated mightily, and with a flourish, Mrs. Gray swooped him from the table to hold him in both hands.
It was at that moment that Kate opened the door and backed into the kitchen, carrying a casserole dish in both hands. “Ethel waved me over from her door and told me to bring this to you, Ellie,” she said. A dish towel in each gloved hand, she placed the pottery container on the buffet and turned to face Mathilda Gray.
“Ma’am?” Never at a loss for words, Kate appeared speechless, her gaze moving from Mrs. Gray’s face to the bundle she held on outstretched hands.
“I assume this is your child?” Mathilda asked.
“Yes, of course,” Kate answered hastily, reaching to take Tyler. “Oh, did he get hungry?” she asked. “I see you had to give him his doo-doo.”
“Doo-doo?” Mathilda made the term sound somehow obscene, Ellie thought.
Kate’s reddened cheeks flushed even more. “My mother used to call it that,” she explained. And then she bent her head to the child she held. “Are you starving to death, angel?”
Ellie’s eyes closed in relief. Kate’s arrival couldn’t have come at a better time, as far as she was concerned. Cleaning up the mess in her kitchen was imperative, and with the baby in safe hands, Ellie was free to tend to that chore. “Sit down here and feed him,” she offered, motioning to the rocking chair. “I’ll sort things out.”
“Introduce me to your visitor,” Kate said blithely, seating herself and opening her coat. Her gloves on the floor, her scarf flung back, she was well on her way to providing Tyler with his meal.
“Kate, this is Win’s mother. Mrs. Gray, I’d like you to meet Kate Kincaid, my neighbor. Her husband is the town sheriff, and Kate teaches at the school here in town.”
“Yes,” Mathilda said, looking at Kate through her spectacles. “So you said.”
“I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” Kate looked up with a cheerful smile, deftly ignoring Ellie’s discomfort. “I imagine Ellie was surprised.”
You have no idea. Ellie turned away, listening as Mathilda gave a recital of her trip. Even the mundane details she listed sounded of great importance as she paraded the trials of travel before Kate’s hearing.
“I took the train to Butte, a nasty experience, I must say. I assume they assign the most aged cars to any area west of civilization. Then a stagecoach to Whitehorn. The driver was uncouth, the other passengers riffraff of the lowest sort.” She paused, as if she considered those lowly beings she had been forced to travel with, and shook her head, a slight shiver causing her mouth to pucker. “I must say the accommodations were not up to the standards I’m accustomed to. But then, when one attempts to travel on the frontier, I suppose one must be willing to make concessions.”
“By all means,” Kate replied dryly. “I well remember my arrival in Whitehorn. I managed to interrupt a bank robbery, and when the bandits attempted to confiscate the stagecoach for their getaway, I ended up in the middle of the road, sitting flat on my fanny in the dirt.”
“A most illustrious beginning to your career, I’m sure,” Mathilda said stiffly.
“I don’t know about that,” Kate told her cheerfully, “but it did get me a husband.”
“Indeed?” Ellie had not known eyebrows could climb so high, and decided that Win’s mother was most adept at that particular talent. “I take it,” Mathilda added with a note of disdain coloring her words, “that the sheriff took pity on you?”
Ellie bristled on Kate’s behalf. “I’m sure there was no pity involved,” she said quickly. “James Kincaid was a fortunate man to find someone like Kate.”
“Well,” Kate drawled, glancing down at Tyler, “I’m not sure I was the most glamorous creature he’d ever seen up to that point in his life. But he did tell me it was his first glimpse at my knees that convinced him to marry me.”
Mathilda apparently decided that remark did not merit her attention, and she began a slow perusal of the kitchen as Ellie stifled a burst of nervous laughter in her dish towel. And then she looked at Kate, willing her to continue with the conversation. Lifting her shoulders in a helpless shrug, Kate grinned, and bent low over Tyler, murmuring softly, one foot keeping the rocker in motion.
“If I’d known you were on your way,” Ellie said pleasantly, “I’d have been better prepared.” She scrubbed at the oilcloth that covered the kitchen table, determined that no trace of Tyler, his blanket or any scent of dirty diaper should remain there. Her next project was the diaper she’d left bundled by the back door.
Kate apparently was alert to the movement around her for
she spoke up quickly. “Just leave that be, Ellie. I’ll take it home with me and let it soak on the back stoop while I cook supper.”
So much for that escape route, Ellie thought glumly. She was not to get a reprieve of any sort from the relentless stare of Mathilda Gray, and she could only wish fervently for Win to appear from his office. And with that, she felt a jolt of inspiration.
“I’ll just run down to Win’s office and let him know you’re here,” she said brightly, dropping the dishcloth on the sink board.
“I doubt he would appreciate being interrupted while he is doing whatever he does in his office,” Mathilda said. “Has he found any customers in this godforsaken part of the country?”
Ellie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “He prefers to call them patients,” she said quietly, wondering how soon they could ship the woman back to Saint Louis. How Win had ever been birthed by this highfalutin female was beyond her.
“If he’d gone into law or banking, he’d have dealt with clients who were of his social stature,” Mathilda said curtly. “He was raised to be a gentleman.”
“He still is a gentleman,” Ellie replied. “His reputation is above reproach, ma’am.”
“Oh? Then why did it take him so long to marry you? Or wasn’t he the one who got you in the family way?” The look was frosty, and Ellie felt chilled by icy-green eyes that held more than a trace of dislike.
“No, he wasn’t,” she said. “I would have thought Win’s uncle would have given you the particulars,” Ellie said quietly. “Or didn’t you see him after he was here?”
“He arrived in Saint Louis the very day before I left. I didn’t speak with him, although he did manage time to talk to Winston’s father. Geoffrey seemed to think we’d be pleased to welcome you to the family,” she said, her mouth twisting as though the idea were making her ill. “Given your denial of Win as your child’s father, I don’t think that is remotely possible.”
“Maybe not,” Ellie agreed. “And I guess that’s your choice to make. But Win’s uncle didn’t seem to be angry about it. Maybe he thought Win had good reason for what he did.”
She edged toward the hallway door. “I’ll just go and check on Win.” The knob in her hand, she sent a pleading look in Kate’s direction. “Tell Mrs. Gray about the school, why don’t you, Kate?”
The knob turned readily and Ellie was in the hallway, leaning against the wall, her breath catching in her throat. She’d never been exposed to such blatant prejudice in her life. Maybe the woman felt she had just cause, considering the circumstances, but she ought to at least listen to Win’s story first.
Social stature. Whatever those words were supposed to mean, they didn’t describe anything much that Win was interested in. If there was ever a true gentleman on the face of this earth, Winston Gray was his name, and she’d defy anyone, including the creature from Saint Louis to say any different.
“Ellie?” Win stood before her, his hands resting on her shoulders, and she realized her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her fingers were pressed tightly against her mouth, and her heart was beating at a furious pace within her breast. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you feeling sick? Do you have pain?”
He looked down at a tapestry valise that sat on a chair near the staircase. “Whose is that?” His words were taut with suspicion, and he looked toward the closed kitchen door. “Ellie, is someone here?”
His hands traveled the length of her arms to cup her elbows, and he drew her from the wall’s support to lean against his chest. She felt the tender caress of long fingers against her nape, the warmth of his breath against her ear and throat as he bent his head to kiss the soft skin. And she could only nod her head, then shake it quickly, as though her thoughts were muddled.
“Who’s upset you?” he asked, his voice hardening, his head lifting, even as his palm cupped her chin, forcing her face into his field of vision. “Is there someone in the kitchen, Ellie?”
She nodded then, and as he dropped his hands from her and turned toward the door, she reached for him. “Wait. Don’t go in there yet. Let me catch my breath first.” It would be all right. Win was here, he’d take care of her now.
And I’ll stand behind him and let him protect me. The words shattered her pose, and her shoulders lifted, her fingers wiping at the single tear that had fallen from each eye. She would not cower before Win’s mother. For the last time in her life, she’d been put down, allowed someone to use her as a doormat. No more.
“I’m all right now,” she said, only the barest quaver in her voice betraying the fear she could not totally subdue. “Your mother is here, Win. She came in on the afternoon stage, and must have walked over here. Kate’s in there with her.”
“What did she say to you?” His words were like river ice, those chunks taken each winter from the river and stored in sawdust in John’s warehouse. Amos Carlton paid dearly, she’d heard, for the privilege of having his ice chests filled throughout the summer months, and John had made a tidy sum with his venture.
“Answer me, Ellie. What did my mother do to you?” His lips were thin, almost colorless, and she thought idly she’d never seen him so angry. Except for the morning he’d carried her back to town on the back of a horse and tucked her into his bed.
“She’s not very happy with me,” Ellie said carefully. “Kate’s keeping her busy while I came to find you.”
His eyes were glittering chips of green, and faint color rode his cheekbones. “Well, you’ve found me, sweetheart.” His hand clutched the knob and the door was wrenched open.
“Mother? Why didn’t you let us know you were coming to visit?” he asked, the polite words lacking any trace of welcome. He stalked into the kitchen, tossing a nod in Kate’s direction and approaching the woman who stood at the table. “I’d have met you at the stage if you’d sent a wire.” He bent and his lips touched the air an inch from her cheek.
“How is Father? I assume Uncle Geoffrey arrived back in Saint Louis safely?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” Mathilda said cooly. “I certainly managed to do just that, as far as your wife is concerned.”
Win’s sharp gaze cut back to Ellie. “Did mother introduce herself nicely?” he asked.
“Why, yes,” Ellie said. “She said she was Winston’s mother, and then was gracious enough to watch Tyler while I cleaned up his mess.”
Kate smothered a snort, turning it into a chuckle, and stood, holding the baby up to her shoulder. “I believe I’ll just wrap up this young man and take him home now,” she said, her grin wide as she turned it in Win’s direction. “How about tossing his heavy blanket over him for me, Ellie?”
Ellie did as Kate asked, tucking the covering around Tyler so the wind couldn’t get to him, then helped Kate ease her arms into her coat. The large garment covered Kate and the baby, too, without any trouble, and Ellie bustled about, gathering up the soiled diapers and Kate’s tote bag.
“Here’s your belongings. I’ll see you later,” she said, opening the door and holding it wide for Kate’s exit. “If you and James would like to join us, I’m sure there’s enough casserole to go around,” she said hopefully.
Kate offered a blank smile and shook her head. “No, I think you have your hands full, Ellie. I’ll just trundle on home and find something for supper.” She peered back over Ellie’s shoulder. “It was pleasant meeting you, Mrs. Gray. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.” And then she was gone, bent over the baby, heading into the wind as she crossed the yard.
“I think you and I have some things to discuss, Mother,” Win said as Ellie closed the door. “Why don’t you come down to my office while Ellie gets supper on the table.”
“Win?” Ellie held her head high and met his gaze without faltering. “Your mother has had a long trip, and I’m sure your talk can wait until after she’s had a chance to eat and freshen up.”
His hesitation was minute, and he obliged her with a short nod. “All right. I’ll take her upstairs to the room you
had when you first moved in here.”
“Take the teakettle with you,” Ellie said. “There’s plenty of warm water to fill the pitcher, and soap and towels on the washstand.” She looked at Mathilda, aware of the faint signs of travel, the shadows beneath her eyes. She’d missed them at first, caught up in the disdain that glittering gaze had shot in her direction. Now she read rightly the weariness the older woman struggled with.
True, the shoulders were straight, the back rigid, but a sigh escaped from those prim lips as Win extended a hand to usher her from the kitchen. “Win?” Ellie called his name, and he halted as his mother crossed the threshold into the hall, turning his head to answer Ellie’s summons. His eyes were grim, his jaw firmly set.
It would not do that Win’s first encounter with his mother, after all this time apart, should be filled with conflict. “I’m sure your mother is weary, Win. Save the talk for later.” She held his gaze and his mouth worked, as though he bit back words, and then he nodded abruptly and the door closed behind him.
She envisioned them climbing the stairs, Win carrying the valise, his mother’s footsteps firm and square upon each step. The faint sound of movement above told her they were in the hallway, and she waited, catching the barest murmur of voices through the ceiling vent that allowed heat to permeate the upper floor of the house.
A similar vent allowed warm air to rise from the hallway at the front of the house. Ellie recalled nights when she’d heard Win’s movements as she nestled in the bedroom, where even now his mother was looking at the simple provisions the room afforded.
She turned to the stove, lifting the coffeepot to sniff the strong brew. Win would no doubt want the most potent drink available when he came back to her, but this was beyond redemption.
Opening the back door, she tossed the dregs into the yard and shivered in the cold wind. “Ellie?” He was behind her, drawing her back into the warm kitchen, closing the door behind her, and taking the pot from her hands. “Are you all right?”
A Convenient Wife Page 24
