Tupelo Gold: Sweeter Than Honey

by Gem Sivad

“We need to go to the Mercantile. There are some last minute ingredients I ordered and need to pick up.” Comfort pulled Sally toward the door as she spoke and grabbed two shawls for them to wear on their way to town.

  Hamilton had taken Jacob with him this morning to ride the northern Double-Q fence-line. But he’d left the buggy ready to be hitched and Sally helped her back the horse into the traces and buckle on the harness. On the way to Eclipse, Comfort planned what she needed.

  As soon as they arrived, Mel Carmichael met her at the door. “Ma’s got you all fixed up in back, Mrs. Quince.”

  “Thank heavens.” Comfort took Sally’s hand and hurried through the store to the backrooms.

  Mel followed them, helping customers and straightening merchandise as he walked. Business was more than brisk. It was booming.

  For a moment, Comfort felt the intoxicating allure of making money. But her focus shifted quickly to Thanksgiving dinner when she stepped into the backroom and Marta greeted her.

  “All set, missy. Russel, carry that box out for Comfort, don’t just stand there.”

  Mel had the box in hand before his mother ordered him around like a ten year old, but he smiled agreeably even though the store out front was bedlam.

  “Do you need me to stay and help?” As soon as she offered, Comfort regretted her words.

  “Nope. Imported my wife to help. She’ll be here soon. Ma’s been running the register some too. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Have both Marta and your wife keep their hours and pay them accordingly.” Comfort sighed in relief. Assured the CQ was under control, she began carrying Thanksgiving dinner out to the buggy.

  She smiled in anticipation as she inspected the plucked turkey, and the contents of the box of side dishes—sweet potatoes, scalloped corn, creamy butternut squash, and apple soup. Sally carried the unbaked pies and loaves of bread in another container.

  “Mind you don’t leave those apple pies in too long and burn the crust. And be sure and bake the bread until it’s done. Nobody wants to eat raw dough.”

  Comfort listened and made notes, while her mind considered the last disaster—she had to make the dressing for Thanksgiving. Everything else was taken care of because she'd paid Marta well for the succulent food they carried home.

  “I wrote down the recipe and pulled together the ingredients. You can do this, missy. I know you can.”

  Comfort looked doubtfully at the box of ingredients; onions, apples, pecans, and eggs as well as a bag of cornmeal.

  Marta rattled off directions for making the cornbread while she walked with them to the buggy.

  “The turkey’s cleaned, don’t worry about that. But you have to make the dressing up fresh before you stuff it in the fowl for baking. So you’ll have to make the cornbread tonight.”

  She broke the news to Comfort as she ticked off the ingredients. She’d included sage, thyme, salt, and pepper to season things, but her “pinch of this” and “dab of that” left Comfort feeling decidedly uneasy.

  Nodding her gratitude, Comfort concentrated on the directions Marta assumed she’d be intelligent enough to follow. I’m doomed. If this concoction has to go in the turkey and the turkey is the main dish, Thanksgiving dinner is in jeopardy.

  Marta determinedly giving Comfort advice. “Dampen the stuffing with half a cup of melted butter. Then add the hot water enough to make it moist. Beat an egg with some salt pork, chipped fine and mix that up with the oysters, chestnuts, chopped celery and stoned raisins. Then fill the turkey and put it in the oven to start roasting.”

  Comfort’s head was swimming with the directions. Marta shoved a paper at her before she and Sally started back to the ranch. “I wrote it all down for you. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

  Once Comfort and Sally were back in the buggy, Comfort said a quick goodbye. “Thank you, Marta. Blessings on you and may your own Thanksgiving be wonderful, tomorrow.”

  Comfort tucked the instructions for cooking everything that needed cooked, in her pocket, and pointed the horse toward home. As they trotted smartly out of town, she waved at the young bounty hunter.

  Beau Beauregard crouched next to his pet wolf as he talked to Hiram Potter in front of the sheriff’s office.

  Hiram tipped his hat at Comfort and she slowed the buggy to call a greeting their way. “Hiram, Beau—I hope your Thanksgiving is a blessed event.”

  “Beau and I will be sharing beans and coffee tomorrow. Best wishes to your family, Comfort,” Sheriff Potter called back.

  Comfort’s generosity overtook her common sense. “Don’t be silly. The two of you, come for dinner at our place. I'm sure we can do better than red beans and coffee. In any event, Hamilton will enjoy visiting with you. Dinner’s mid-day. Don’t be late.”

  Her glow of satisfaction ended on the way back to the Double-Q when Sally, who’d been counting on her fingers, said, “You reckon there’ll be enough for all of us? We’ll be sharing food with fifteen, Mama.”

  “Oh that can’t be. We’re only cooking for a few…” Her words piddled to a halt as she ran a count in her own head. “Merciful heavens, what have I done?”

  * * * * *

  Hamilton held the roasted turkey aloft proudly displaying Comfort's accomplishment before him. As he set the bird on the table, he gazed at the passel of family and friends who’d come to share the day with them. His throat closed as he was overwhelmed by unexpected emotion.

  Lucy and Ambrose had arrived early and helped things unfold smoothly.

  “I expect you've had Comfort cooking for days to get ready for this, brother. Alex and Brody are coming along behind us, bringing a few things to add to the feast.” After firing off a few jibes at Hamilton, Lucy joined Comfort in the kitchen.

  The McCallisters had arrived in a noisy group, with Charlie escorting his wife, Naomi, and his mother, Rachel, into the ranch house. On the way in, he’d handed Hamilton a jug of apple cider and a bottle of good whiskey.

  Rachel and Naomi weren't much for cooking, but they'd made Comfort a new hooked rug for her kitchen. She'd beamed and taken them back to the room that had been her despair and was fast becoming her joy.

  Deacon and Sam McCallister arrived, making it thirteen and then the number grew to fifteen when Hiram Potter and Beau Beauregard showed up.

  The dining room was filled with talk and teasing and if the table didn’t groan under the weight of all the food, it was only because it couldn’t be heard over the noise of the guests.

  Hamilton had told her not to worry about having enough to feed everyone, and he'd been right. Each family had prepared their own special dishes to add to the feast.

  Hamilton pulled Comfort close, caught Jacob as he was chasing Sally around the table, and stood with his arms around his family.

  He cleared his throat nervously, and said, “Welcome to our home. I reckon this is like a christening event, since we've not celebrated the new place before. Thanks for coming today.”

  Comfort peered up at him and frowned. “I should have invited the Eclipse minister. You're supposed to say a blessing, now, Hamilton.”

  Laughter filled the room, interrupted by the teasing drawl of Beau Beauregard. “Well, as to that...Deacon, here, knows the Good Book, him once bein' a preacher and all.”

  All eyes turned expectantly toward the red-haired bounty hunter who stood apart, watching the rest. He gave Beauregard a somber look, but nodded his head and said quietly, “Let us pray.”

  They stood, circling the table, hands linked in friendship and love, listening to Deacon's blessing.

  “God bless this bounty—reward and evidence of the toil and struggle of the year past. Keep watch over those among us and lead us in the path of the Lord from this day forth.”

  Comfort held Hamilton’s hand and silently added her own final prayer—And please, God, don’t let my dressing kill anyone this year!

  Chapter Eight

  The day after Thanksgiving Hamilton announced his trip to Wichita. Comfort’s holiday spirit fle
d and anxiety filled her. She’d worked tirelessly, making the house into a home.

  She’d even begun to feel proud of her accomplishments and exultant at her holiday success. The dressing had seemed rather dry to her, but Hamilton had heaped such praise on it (and the bowl had been scraped clean) she claimed victory in her first attempt at ranch entertaining.

  Now all that confidence fled as she contemplated her husband’s solitary business trip.

  “How long will you be away?” she asked, trying to seem unperturbed. She and Hamilton had just begun to reclaim the intimate friendship they’d shared for years. Comfort didn’t want to spoil the healing rift, but knowledge of his long ago infidelity stirred her repressed fear.

  “I need to finalize things with the lawyer.” Hamilton crossed the floor, standing before her as he added, “He’s drawn up the adoption papers changing Jacob’s last name.”

  Comfort asked quickly, “And Sally? Of course her name will be Quince, also. Right, Hamilton?” Her husband frowned uneasily.

  “There’s some question about her own pa claiming her,” Hamilton answered, not meeting Comfort’s gaze.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me before? Sally’s my daughter. No one else can claim her now.”

  “I know that, Comfort. If things were decided, I’d take you and the kids to Wichita with me. With Sally’s pa having been located and him being interested in claiming her, I figure she’s better off here, ‘til I can straighten out this mess. Then, I’ll slap the Quince name on her as fast as the lawyer can write.”

  “Offer him money if need be. I don’t care the cost. I’ll sell everything I own if that’s what it takes. Please, Hamilton, don’t let me lose my girl.” Comfort could barely breathe, her lungs paralyzed by fear and panic.

  “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything to begin with. I knew you’d worry yourself sick over it. I’ve had the Quince attorney looking into it and I’m sure he’ll straighten things out.”

  He gathered her in his arms and held her close, running his hand up and down her spine as she clutched him.

  “Why would her father want her now when he made no move to claim her before?” Comfort could hear the desperation in her voice and Hamilton squeezed her roughly.

  “Same deal as me, I’m guessing. After the Blain woman tried to pass off Sally as mine and I didn’t fall for it, she moved onto the next mark.” His words were bitter, denouncing the woman’s scheme.

  “So,” Comfort said slowly, “if you announce that Sally is yours, you could adopt her at the same time as Jacob?”

  “I’m afraid that ship’s already sailed, Comfort,” Hamilton said regretfully. “At the time, I was more interested in proving I’d not been unfaithful more than once, than paying attention to the two kids. I probably handled it wrong, but what’s done is done.”

  “Hamilton, I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. That is a male attitude and it is a dumb attitude.

  Nothing is finished until we’re satisfied with the outcome. We are all going to Wichita and I am bringing both of our children home with us. Now where is that picture of your mother? Her middle name was Sarah if I remember correctly.”

  Comfort straightened in his arms and stepped back. She had work to do.

  * * * * *

  Hamilton paced the hotel sitting room, waiting for Comfort and Sally to emerge from the bedroom. Jacob squirmed uncomfortably on the settee and pulled at the bow tie Comfort had insisted on. “This dad-blamed thing is choking me,” he complained.

  “You’ll live. I did,” Hamilton straightened his own tie and continued to walk back and forth across the floor.

  “Well, what’s taking them so long?” Jacob had become accustomed to putting in a long day on the ranch, up with Hamilton and outside for work. The confinement in the Wichita hotel seemed to have him in a twist.

  “You should have left us back on the Double-Q. Sally and me could’ve looked after Comfort just fine.” His declaration was mutinous.

  “It was your mama’s idea to come along. Son, I have to tell you right now. When a woman gets something in her head, you might as well say yes to her notion and get it over with.”

  “She didn’t get her way over stayin’ in Eclipse.” Jacob stopped squirming and looked at him slyly.

  “That was different. That was something I wanted. When folks are married, they learn to bend to each other’s desires.” Hamilton grinned and stopped pacing.

  “Like Sally and me work things out.” Jacob nodded. “Ma was gone most of the time. It was a good thing Sally had me to raise her.”

  “I’d known about you, you’d have been with me sooner. I hope you understand that.” Hamilton felt his heart squeeze as his six year old son painted a picture of a bleak childhood that had left him mature beyond his years.

  “And Sally?” Jacob asked, finally coming to the core of his concern.

  “Sally’s my daughter as you are my son. You’ll both have a home with Comfort and me until you’re old enough to strike out on your own.”

  “So you didn’t bring us to Wichita to give us back?” Jacob asked. “Not me or Sally?”

  Hamilton was not given to demonstrative moments with his son. A handshake or a pat on the back was about his limit. But this was different. He scooped the boy from the sofa and sat down with him on his lap, hugging him tight in his arms.

  Jacob looked shocked, then indignant, then embarrassed.

  “You’re my flesh and blood and I’ll not lose you again. Remember that.”

  “And Sally?” Jacob persisted.

  “Sally’s your flesh and blood and we’ll not lose her either. Stop worrying.” Hamilton would worry for both of them. He only hoped he could make his words true. Then, it all seemed a lot easier when Comfort and Sally entered the room.

  “I’ll be damned.” Stunned, Hamilton stared at the two Quince females, both decked out in fine shoes, lovely dresses, and expensively coiffed hair.

  “Comfort,” he asked, “What are you about to do?”

  “The children and I are going shopping to see what these stores have to offer. I might find something I want to add to the CQ’s inventory. I expect we’ll find something to buy while we’re out. We’ll leave you to your business, now.”

  Sally grinned at him excitedly. Her hair had been pulled away from her face and coiled in a rather old-fashioned crown of braids on top of her head. At her neck, pinned to her collar, she wore Hamilton’s mother’s heirloom broach.

  “I don’t know how you managed it, but somehow, you’ve made her into a miniature Cordelia Sarah Quince. She looks like my mother.” If he hadn’t known he wasn’t Sally’s pa, he would have sworn she was his child.

  “You look real pretty, Ladybug,” Jacob told his sister. “I’ll watch out for the women.” Hamilton hid his grin as the six year old, trying to be a man, took his place at Comfort’s side.

  “You look very handsome, too, Jacob.” Comfort smoothed his tie, then turned to Hamilton. “When we return, we’ll stop by the lawyer’s offices and wait for you. If there are any doubts about the outcome of your meeting, we will arrange to introduce our very Quince looking children.” Comfort’s jaw was set in a determined line.

  He nodded, getting the message loud and clear. Sally was going to be his daughter one way or another.

  * * * * *

  Comfort and the two children explored the shops in Wichita although a pall of worry hung over the family. Comfort stopped at an ice cream parlor for a treat after they were too tired to walk further.

  Her stomach was aflutter when they finished and found their way to the lawyer’s office. The clerk looked up expectantly when they entered and then ushered them into the inner room where Hamilton and the Quince lawyer conferred.

  Hamilton looked up with a tense smile on his face. Her heart plummeted at the same time she noticed the two people on the other side of the room.

  Sally saw the woman at the same time and hugged up close to Comfort. Jacob stepped closer to his sis
ter as if protecting her.

  “Perhaps it would be best if the children waited in the outer room.” Lawyer Kincaid cleared his throat importantly.

  Comfort escorted the kids back to the front office and knelt in front of them. “I’ll be right back. Your papa has about finished his business. We’ll be going home soon.”

  She left the children with the clerk and returned to the inner room where Hamilton waited. Mr. Kincaid introduced the two other people as Will Talent and Mary Blain. Comfort recognized the woman’s name as the person who’d kept the children after their mother died.

  Without waiting for an invitation to speak, the Blain woman said brusquely, “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble and you need to pay me something for my time. Why I tracked down this fellow and brought him here to claim his daughter. Now you up and say she’s yours. That’s not the story you were telling before.”

  The fellow in question cast his accomplice an uneasy look before he said, “If’n the girl’s mine. I want her.”

  “Well, she’s not yours.” Comfort clasped her hands in front of her demurely as she spoke to the lawyer. “My husband felt it would be better to present his encounter with Jacob and Sally’s mother as if it were a one night tryst. It was before our marriage but he didn’t want me to know he’d had a longer affair with another woman. When your message was received, he confessed to me. Of course we’re not separating the children.”

  She looked at the other man and said, “I’m sorry for your wasted trip. Sarah is our child.”

  The other woman harrumphed again about money lost and Will Talent said, “Hush up, Mary. I told you this wouldn’t work.”

  “I’ll join the children,” Comfort said. “Hamilton, call me please when the adoption papers are ready for me to sign.” By sheer force of will, she forced the proceedings forward.

  When Comfort hurried from the room, she was barely in time to stop Jacob’s escape through the front door. The clerk stood by the door holding it closed and arguing with him, trying to make him sit back down.

  “It’s okay Jacob,” Comfort remarked calmly. “We’re almost finished here. Then we’ll all go home.”