An Unlikely Mother

by Danica Favorite

  She smiled at the boy. Sometimes she wondered if he thought the same. But, of course, she would not discuss her fears with him. Having learned her lesson by openly speculating about everything with everyone, she now worked very hard to keep her opinions to herself. They didn’t know what had happened to Pierre’s father, and though Flora could not imagine him willingly leaving his son, she wouldn’t invite trouble to where it didn’t exist.

  As they reentered the camp, Pierre let go of George’s hand, moving closer to the edge of Flora’s skirts. She looked in the direction of the cabin the ministry used and understood why. Sarah Crowley was headed their way, and the expression on her face said that she had a bee in her bonnet.

  “Hello, Sarah.” Flora greeted her warmly, as though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Which was true—as far as Flora knew, she hadn’t.

  “I wondered when you’d get back from your lollygagging. You’re supposed to help get firewood tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” Flora said calmly. “I thought I was on the schedule for tomorrow. Pastor Lassiter knew we were taking Pierre through the mine area to see if Pierre recognized anyone, or anyone recognized him.”

  She kept her tone modulated, pleasant, trying not to match Sarah’s irritation.

  “Maureen got sick. Had you been here, you’d know that. It’s about time you pulled your weight.”

  Rose came around the corner and noticed them speaking. Flora hated that Rose always had to step in and take up for her, especially since it only seemed to make people like Sarah angrier.

  “I apologize.” Flora gave her a sympathetic look. “Hopefully we’ll find Pierre’s father soon.”

  “Was your expedition successful?” Rose asked as she joined them.

  “I’m afraid not,” Flora said, looking down at Pierre. “But George did run into a gentleman named Peanut who is going to help him look into some things.”

  “George? Peanut?” Sarah gave her a cold look. “It seems you’re becoming all too familiar with these people.”

  “Who we’re here to serve,” Rose reminded her. “I’m glad to see you’re making friends here, Flora.”

  Then Rose turned to the gentlemen and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to have you here. Peanut, is it? I’m Rose Jones.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m honored to be among the likes of you. Some church people brought us some warm blankets over the winter, and I am mighty grateful for the kindness you’ve all done us.”

  Rose smiled at him. “I hope you’ll join us for dinner tonight. I know Pastor Lassiter would love to meet you.”

  The bashful look Peanut gave Rose warmed Flora’s heart. Until recently, Flora would have been like Sarah, counting men like George and Peanut “those people” and not wanting to associate with them. She would have served them dinner and counted it her Christian duty, and that was that. But there was more to these men than just the label society put on them.

  How could Sarah see that, though, when she’d never taken the time to get to know them?

  Flora turned to Sarah and smiled. “I know I need to get to collecting the wood, but before I go, I’d like to invite you to sit with us tonight. It occurred to me that perhaps the reason you are so frustrated with me and the situation is that you don’t know George and Pierre. I’m sure you’ll find them delightful company, and I would so love to catch up with you. It’s been forever since we’ve talked, and I’ve been rude in not asking you about all of your news.”

  Sarah looked at her as though she’d rather share her dinner with a dead rat, but Rose smiled at her encouragingly.

  “What a wonderful idea. Uncle Frank was just telling me that he wished the young ladies in our group would make a greater effort to get to know one another and build better relationships. You two used to be best friends. Surely you can put whatever quarrel occurred between you aside to share a meal.”

  There had been no quarrel. That was the sad part. When Flora’s torment of Emma Jane Jackson reached its peak, and the rest of society turned on Flora, Sarah simply stopped receiving her. They hadn’t had so much as a conversation until coming to this camp, and even now it was all about what Flora was doing wrong.

  Still, Flora remembered Rose’s earlier words about how she should offer an olive branch to everyone she’d wronged. Flora had tried with Sarah, but Sarah had never given her an audience. Perhaps this was the opening she needed.

  “I believe it’s my turn to serve the meal,” Sarah said coldly.

  “Oh!” Rose smiled. “I’d be pleased to do so in your place. Take the night off. Spend some time visiting with Flora.”

  Sarah murmured an acceptance, but her eyes flashed fire. For a moment, Flora regretted asking her, but then she remembered that she was called to be a peacemaker, and she was doing her very best.

  “Now that we have that settled,” Flora said, trying to sound pleasant, “I have some wood to gather.”

  She bent and told Pierre that they were going to collect some wood, and that he needed to remain close to her.

  As Flora turned to go toward the area where they collected wood, George said, “Shall we come help?”

  Sarah smirked, like she thought poorly of the idea but knew Flora would accept.

  “Yes,” Peanut said. “I’d like to contribute somehow. I can carry firewood.”

  Rose smiled broadly. “Very nice. I love the spirit of everyone coming together. I think I’ll join you, as well. Sarah, would you like to come?”

  Would it be awful of Flora to say that she’d rather not have Sarah? Yes, she’d done the hard task of inviting Sarah to sit with them during dinner, and she’d be kind and polite to the other woman. But it seemed like more punishment to be continually working with Sarah.

  “I need to check on Maureen,” Sarah said, a smile on her face but ice in her eyes. “As well as let the others know that I found Flora and she’ll be attending to her duties tonight.”

  “All right then,” Rose said. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

  From the murderous look on Sarah’s face, she wasn’t too happy at the prospect. Knowing Sarah, she’d find a way out of the task, if at all possible.

  But at least Flora had tried.

  Rose reached forward and squeezed Flora’s hand. “You did well. I know it was hard for you to make the overture, but it was the right thing to do.”

  George nodded. “I was impressed. The friendship is her loss, not yours.”

  She shouldn’t have been so pleased at George’s compliment. But the way he looked at her made her want to stand a little taller. He was the most honorable person she knew, and it felt good to have his support.

  If only they didn’t come from two different worlds.

  Chapter Five

  Once they’d finished gathering the wood, George left the ladies at the cabin so he and Peanut could talk to Stumpy about getting into the office. As they rounded the corner to the main area of the mine, George saw John Montgomery mounting a horse. Hopefully to go back home. He’d been relieved when Flora hadn’t wanted to talk to her father, and knowing that one fewer person was around to recognize him was a good thing.

  “That there’s John Montgomery,” Peanut said, pointing. “Your lady friend’s father. I hear talk that he’s trying to buy the mine. Would be nice having a gent like him running things instead of those Bellinghams. Just leeching the money from the place, not bothering to grace us with their presence or see how things are being run. Montgomery mines are a nice place to work, that’s a fact. I’ve tried to get hired on, but my back’s not as strong as those young bucks.”

  Peanut grinned. “But if Montgomery buys this place, well, now, I’d be working for him, wouldn’t I?”

  As if he sensed the men talking about him, Montgomery turned and gazed in their direction, shading his eyes from the glare of the fading su
n.

  “Flora said she thought she’d seen him earlier, but she wasn’t keen on running into him.”

  Peanut shrugged. “I can’t see him being all too happy about her spending time with the likes of us. The man’s got more money than a body’s got a right to, and that daughter of his is his biggest treasure. He’d be a fool to let anyone without deep pockets himself near her. She’s going to marry well, that one.”

  A fact that made George far more miserable than he would have expected. He’d already made up his mind that he couldn’t marry a socialite like Flora. As much as he’d like to, he knew he couldn’t give her what she wanted out of life. He’d seen enough of the mine’s condition to know that it would take a great deal of capital to improve things, and based on the financial documents his brother-in-law had shown him, the Bellinghams didn’t have it.

  The best they could hope for was selling to a man like Montgomery, which would at least replenish the Bellingham coffers, but it wouldn’t give Flora the life she wanted. Besides, if Montgomery was involved in the mine’s sabotage, he couldn’t see the man willingly giving his daughter in marriage to the man whose family he’d just destroyed.

  They hurried around the building, out of Montgomery’s field of view.

  Once they were far enough away, George asked, “Do you think Montgomery would be causing the problems here at the mine, trying to make the mine worth less to get a better price when he buys it?”

  Peanut looked at him funny. “Him? Nah. Rumor has it that he’s straight as an arrow. Doesn’t spend time in the saloons, goes to church and from what I been told, treats everyone fair. Now that Dougherty, on the other hand...”

  The other man spat at the ground. “He cheats at just about everything, including cards. If he ever asks you for a game, you say no.”

  “I don’t play cards,” George said.

  Peanut grinned. “That’s right. You’re with them church folks. It’s a good thing, not being a drinking or gambling man. Ruins a lot of lives up here, that’s for sure. You’ll do well, avoiding all that.”

  They approached the guardhouse, a tiny shed in the middle of the activity.

  “Heya, Stumpy!” Peanut called the greeting, and a well-muscled man stepped out.

  There was no question why Stumpy was the night guard. A man would be a fool to mess with him.

  “Peanut. Who’ve you got there?”

  “This is my friend George Baxter. He’s the gent trying to find the father of a little boy he found wandering the woods alone.”

  “I heard about that,” Stumpy said. “Sad thing, to lose a child. Can’t imagine what it must be like to be on the other end, missing your father. Having any success in your search?”

  Peanut looked over at George.

  “No, sir.” George took a deep breath. “Every mine in the area has been very helpful, but...”

  “Dougherty hasn’t given him squat,” Peanut finished for him. “I heard him yelling at George earlier today for taking too long on his break, when George was just asking the other men if they knew anything about the little boy’s father. You haven’t met a Frenchy, have you?”

  As Stumpy shook his head thoughtfully, George couldn’t help but smile. Dougherty had yelled at him, threatening to fire him for disrupting work. George hadn’t been late on his break—he’d still had two minutes left. But he’d gotten back to work, anyway. This job was too important to get fired before he had all the information.

  “No,” Stumpy said. “But there’s that trapper, Crazy Eddie. You remember him. Crazy as a loon, but we’d have all died the winter of ’79 had it not been for him. I think he has dealings with some French people.”

  “That’s right. Crazy Eddie.” Peanut snapped his fingers. “Oh, you’d like him. If you like tales of the Wild West before it was settled, you’ve got to hear him sometime. He once fought a bear with his bare hands and won.”

  Stumpy groaned. “That’s just a tall tale, and you know it. But you’re missing the point. Crazy Eddie is the only man I know who speaks French.”

  Sighing, Peanut shook his head.

  George couldn’t help but like the grizzled old man who’d somehow taken up for him. “Thanks. I appreciate the information. But what I’d really appreciate is that Peanut says you might have a way for me to get into the office to look at the records. Dougherty refused to even tell me if the boy’s father ever worked here, or was contracted to come.”

  “He can read and everything,” Peanut exclaimed.

  Stumpy looked at George suspiciously. “You think he’s on the up-and-up? Seems an awful lot like a gent to me.”

  “Same story as Reg,” Peanut said. “Just hasn’t gotten beat up like us yet. He’s just trying to help an innocent boy. Surely we can do our part.”

  “We could all lose our jobs.” Stumpy held up a hand, and for the first time, George noticed he was missing a couple fingers. “This is all I have, the only way I got to send money back to Ellie and the girls.”

  George closed his eyes. He knew mining was dangerous business. Had been warned that many a man was injured in the work, losing limbs and sometimes even his life. But what did they do for someone like Stumpy when he was injured at George’s mine? What happened to the men who’d been injured in the explosion that had set George on this course? One more thing George needed to investigate and make right.

  The trouble with being born into wealth, and having a business that gave a family everything it ever wanted, was that you never asked what that wealth cost. What others had given up so that you could have all the luxuries in life.

  “Is that your wife and kids?” George asked.

  Stumpy nodded and reached into his pocket for a miniature. “That’s them. The boy died last winter. I can’t imagine what the little boy you found’s family is going through.”

  Then Stumpy sighed. “Something terrible must’ve happened to his father, because when you have a boy of your own, you don’t leave ’im willingly, you know what I’m saying?”

  George nodded slowly. He’d considered that thought dozens of times since finding Pierre. He was a good kid, and based on the way the little boy chattered, and things had Flora told him he’d said, there was no way his father had abandoned him.

  Peanut also nodded. “That’s what I been thinking. If everything was on the up-and-up, why wouldn’t Dougherty let George have the information? What if Dougherty killed him?”

  “Dougherty’s not a murderer,” Stumpy said. “A cheat, a drunkard and stupid as all get-out, but I don’t think he’d kill anyone. But something’s not right.”

  Then Stumpy let out a long sigh. “He’s still in there working, probably going to work late, on account of Montgomery’s visit. You come back around ten o’clock. If Dougherty’s gone, I’ll have two lights in the window. If you only see one, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.” George reached out to shake the man’s hand, then realized it was probably the wrong thing to do.

  Stumpy grinned. “I can still shake on a bargain.”

  The two men shook hands, then George and Peanut returned to the camp for dinner. They could smell the meal before they even got to the cabin, and George’s stomach rumbled. As they got closer, George’s appetite left him. The horse he’d seen Montgomery get on a short while ago was tied up nearby.

  George rubbed the stubble on his face. Though he wasn’t shaving as often as he once did, he doubted that the light growth would do anything to conceal his identity. Fortunately, Montgomery hadn’t seen him since he was a boy and wouldn’t recognize him. George was a common name, and few knew his mother’s maiden name. Why would they? It was of little import since she’d come from a working-class family.

  When they arrived at the fire, Flora was already seated with Pierre, talking animatedly with her father. Though she’d said she dreaded seeing him,
it was clear that their reunion was a happy one.

  “George!” Pierre spotted him and jumped up, running to him. George wrapped his arms around the boy and swung him up, making Pierre laugh.

  When he finished swinging Pierre and set him on the ground, Pierre began speaking in rapid French. Though Flora had taught him a few words, the only thing George could pick out was mange. Eat.

  “Allons. Let’s go.” That was one phrase George remembered. And, as Flora instructed him, when using simple sentences, he used both English and French.

  Pierre grabbed his hand and dragged him over to where Flora and her father were seated. They immediately stood, and Flora greeted him with a hesitant smile.

  “Father, this is the gentleman I was telling you about. George Baxter. He’s working in the mine, and he’s the one who found Pierre.”

  She spoke rapidly, like she was nervous at having to introduce the two men. George didn’t blame her. If his sister had brought home a miner, their father likely wouldn’t have appreciated it.

  Then Flora indicated Peanut. “And this is Peanut. He’s a friend of George’s, er, that is, Mr. Baxter’s, and he’s helping, as well.”

  Looking apologetic, she said to her father, “I’m sorry, I know my lack of formality is out of the ordinary, but I’m learning that things are done differently here.”

  “It’s all right, my dear.” Mr. Montgomery gestured to the logs they used as benches. “Please join us. I’d like to hear about your efforts to find the boy’s father.”

  “Let them get their food first,” Flora said. Then she craned her head. “I thought Sarah Crowley would be joining us, but I haven’t seen her yet.”