An Unlikely Mother

by Danica Favorite

  “Thank you.” Flora smiled at her. “I appreciate your kind words.”

  “I’m not just saying that,” Sarah said. “I remember how horrified we all were at the thought of the women in our circle raising children themselves and not having a nanny, but the way you are with Pierre, and how happy you seem to be, I can understand why some women choose to raise their own children.”

  Sarah reached behind her for a small bundle. “In fact, that’s really why I came to see you. I would have called on you, but I didn’t want you to think it was an excuse to get a peek at the wonderful George Bellingham.”

  Flora unwrapped the bundle and saw that it was the shawl Sarah had chastised Pierre about.

  “Everyone was right. It cleaned up just fine,” Sarah said. “And I sprayed it with some of my perfume. I’d like Pierre to have it. If it gives him some comfort, it would make me most happy.”

  Turning the bundle over in her hands, Flora stared at it. “You should give it to him,” Flora said, looking up at Sarah. “It would be good for him to see you doing a kindness for him.”

  “I couldn’t intrude on your family during this time,” Sarah said. “Not with George Bellingham visiting. Your mother has her heart set on your match.”

  Sarah let out a long sigh. “I know it isn’t done to marry a miner, but I’ve always been envious of how you and George Baxter look at each other. If it weren’t for the differences in your social stations, I’d say you were meant to be. The kind of love that we used to lie in our beds and giggle about until all hours. I suppose my jealousy over that was part of why I was so nasty to you.”

  “It sounds like you’ve been examining your own heart,” Flora said, smiling at Sarah.

  “Usually, when we want what someone else has, we go to the store and buy it.” Sarah gave a wicked smile. “Well, you and I go buy something better, then flaunt it.”

  Her expression turned somber again. “But when you see someone else’s happiness and you want it for yourself, you can only work to destroy it so that person isn’t happy, which I’m learning makes you miserable. Being happy is something you have to learn to do on your own.”

  Tears shone in Sarah’s eyes. “That’s the lesson you’ve taught me, and why, even though I do not deserve to be your friend, I hope we can someday be so again.”

  Propriety said that she was supposed to say something kind and encouraging, then nod politely. But Flora was tired of being proper. She leaned over and gave Sarah a big hug.

  “And so we are.”

  Tears streamed down both of their faces, and Flora knew they must look a sight. When the signal came that intermission was nearly over, they gave each other one final squeeze.

  “Your mother is going to be horrified,” Sarah said. “You look a fright.”

  “No I’m not,” Flora’s mother said, entering the space. “I’m glad the two of you are finally over your tiff.”

  Flora smiled up at her mother. “It was more than a tiff, and you know it.”

  “But it’s over, and you’re both smiling again, and that makes my heart happy.”

  A man approached and bent to whisper something in Flora’s mother’s ear.

  “Oh, dear,” she said, looking at Flora. “Something has happened at the house. We must go home at once.”

  “Ma’am,” the gentleman said. “That is not what you were told. Mr. Montgomery specifically said—”

  “And you repeated the message. But the men we love are in trouble, and I will not sit idly by.”

  “Mother!” Flora gaped at her mother.

  “Oh, stop. I’m tired of you pretending that you don’t love him. And if I have to create a scandal to force you to marry him, then I will.”

  Her mother turned and glared at Sarah. “But don’t you think about starting any rumors. There’s a lot you don’t know, and if your mother is correct in telling me that you are truly contrite over your behavior, then you will keep your big mouth shut.”

  “Of course,” Sarah said, a mixture of horror and wounded feelings crossing her face.

  “Good.” Flora’s mother nodded. “You may call on us tomorrow at four. I believe things should be sufficiently settled by then.”

  “Thank you, I will,” Sarah said. “And I will be praying for you.”

  When Sarah left, another woman approached Flora’s mother and whispered something in her ear. Her mother paled, and stepped into an alcove to speak with the woman further. The women had a brief conversation, in which Flora’s mother looked extremely agitated.

  Her mother returned and held her hand out to Flora. “Come. Mrs. Harris said her husband heard gunshots at our house. If those men of ours got themselves shot, I will never forgive them.”

  Flora hid a smile as she followed her mother out of the Tabor Opera House. At least, until her mind finally processed her mother’s words.

  “Someone was shot?” Flora stopped and stared at her mother.

  “Don’t dawdle. And I don’t know. I just know that guns were fired. You know how much I deplore firearms. Oh, the violence. Why can’t men be more civilized? Don’t think I’m going to let your father get away with bringing weapons into my home.”

  Flora started for their carriage, but her mother tugged at her arm. “The man your father sent said it wasn’t safe for us to take the carriage, and we should walk to Rose’s. Imagine that! Walking all the way there, in these shoes, when our house is half the distance? If I have to ruin my new shoes, then I’m certainly not going to sit in someone else’s parlor, hoping for news. That father of yours has clearly underestimated us, and if there are ruffians in my home, then I’ll be by his side protecting it. Gunshots indeed!”

  As her mother prattled on about how irresponsible people were with guns, she dragged Flora through the streets. Fortunately, their home wasn’t far from the Tabor Opera House, but every step seemed like a mile.

  George could be dead.

  Which was when all the confusion in Flora’s heart disappeared.

  Had he hidden the truth from her? Yes. But he’d also explained his reasoning, the very same reasoning Flora’s father had used in keeping the truth from Flora’s mother. And though that decision had been just as ill-advised as George’s, Flora’s mother clearly forgave her husband. George had also made it clear that he was trying to learn from that mistake, to let Flora be a part of the decisions affecting her.

  George had done everything in his power to admit he had been wrong, and show he’d changed, but Flora had still held him at arm’s length. How was that any different from how people treated her? If she wanted people to accept her changes, then she needed to also accept George’s.

  Perhaps Flora still had a few lessons to learn about what it meant to love someone.

  When they reached the house, the women pushed past the deputies standing outside.

  “Where is my husband?” Flora’s mother demanded.

  The two men were walking down the stairs, unaware that the women were present. They spoke somberly, and George’s clothes had some blood on them.

  But they were safe.

  Flora ran up to George and threw her arms around him. “George!”

  Before he could answer, she reached up and kissed him. And kissed him. Because, finally, she could kiss the man she loved.

  At least, until her father cleared his throat.

  “Now you most certainly will be getting married,” Flora’s mother boomed. “Even if I have to drag you to the altar myself.”

  Flora turned and smiled at her mother. “That won’t be necessary. I’d be delighted to walk on my own.”

  Then she looked up at George. “That is, if you’ll still have me.”

  “Always,” he said, bending down and kissing her again.

  “That is enough kissing,” Flora’s mother said, stomping he
r foot on the floor. “At least until after the wedding. I’m going to have a hard enough time explaining these unusual circumstances. Do not bring further scandal upon the family.”

  George looked up and grinned. “Then you should probably ask the preacher to come quickly. Because I have no intention of letting Flora go.”

  He started to embrace her again, but Flora’s father put his arm between them. “I believe my wife has spoken on this issue.”

  Flora looked down at her mother, who wore a broad smile as she said, “And there will be a wedding. It will be written up as the finest event of the season. I’ve already picked out the dress.”

  George led Flora down the stairs and into the parlor. “You should have stayed away.”

  “I had to know you were all right.”

  They sat on a sofa, and George smiled at her. “I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to dissuade you from marrying me, but I also want to be honest with you. The situation for my family is more dire than it first appeared. I’m not sure we’ll weather the scandal. You won’t be marrying a miner, but one of the scandalous Bellinghams that people whisper about on the street.”

  George explained what had happened while Flora was out. She hated the sadness on his face as he described the betrayal of his brother-in-law. She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, but she was well aware of her parents’ eyes on them as they spoke on the other side of the room. Only Flora’s mother could simultaneously have a discussion with her father and very intensely observe her at the same time.

  The more serious George’s expression grew, the more Flora thought that her mother’s intense gaze was mostly about being worried Flora would see his words as a reason not to marry him than she was that Flora and George would act inappropriately.

  George concluded his explanation by saying, “I know I told you that our life might be more along the lines of the ‘for poorer’ part of the wedding vows. But that is all I have to offer you. I know your father is being more than generous in his purchase of the mine, but I’ve told him that I won’t marry your money. It’s what destroyed my brother-in-law, the greed for our wealth. As part of the sale of the mine, your father offered me a job managing the mine, and I’ve accepted. If you marry me, you’re marrying the manager of the Pudgy Boy Mine, who lives in a cabin on the property. The pay isn’t terrible, but it’s only enough to keep food on the table, a roof over our heads and a little to set aside for rainy days.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Flora said, squeezing his hands.

  “The cabin’s got dirt floors, and I’m pretty sure, just like the one at the camp, the roof leaks.”

  Flora tried not to grimace.

  George smiled at her. “I’ll do what I can to fix the roof, and as I have time, I’ll work on putting some planks down on the floor.”

  He gestured at the room around them. “But there won’t be any of this.”

  “I don’t need it,” Flora said. “The funniest thing happened to me at the Tabor Opera House. Usually, it’s thrilling to be there, at the center of everything. But all I could think about was how much I wished I could be at Rose’s house, popping corn with her and the children.”

  With a grin, George brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I think we can afford some corn for popping.”

  “Then we’ll have all we need. Now, let’s go get our son.” Flora stood and held out her hand to him.

  As he took her hand, she felt no trepidation about the future. No, it wasn’t the life she’d planned for herself. But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t question what she was thinking. Rather, her heart had spoken loud and clear.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  The spring air was still crisp this time of morning as Flora stepped out of their cabin by the mine. Her parents were visiting, and George was taking the day off to spend it with them.

  “Maman!” Pierre came running up to her, clutching a bouquet of flowers. “I mean, Mama. Look what I found for my grandmother. She will like?”

  “She will.” Flora bent down and kissed him on top of his head, then pointed to the trail leading up from the main road. “Look! They’re coming!”

  Pierre needed no further encouragement to run to greet her parents. George stepped out of the cabin and joined her on the porch.

  “Do you think they’ve guessed our news?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and placing his hand over her stomach.

  “I’m sure you just let them know.” Flora turned and kissed him. “But that’s all right.”

  Her mother ran up to them. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes. We’re expecting a baby.”

  “Oh! Honoria will be so pleased!” Flora’s mother hugged them tight to her.

  In the weeks that followed the horrible ordeal at Flora’s parents’ house, the Montgomerys and Bellinghams had reestablished their friendship and Flora’s mother spent time in Denver visiting George’s mother. The two matriarchs had giggled like schoolgirls as they planned their children’s wedding. Though George’s mother had still not fully recovered from the accident, she could walk short distances with a cane, and Flora hoped that soon they could have her in their home for a visit.

  She turned to stare at the room George had been adding on in his spare time. It wouldn’t be as fine as George’s mother was used to, but there was something very satisfying about looking at the touches they’d added to their home and knowing that they’d built it together.

  George’s sister had settled in a small house in Leadville that George purchased for her out of the proceeds from selling the mine. Though Flora wasn’t able to get down to Leadville as often as she liked, she was glad to have Julia nearby so Pierre had cousins to play with.

  Not that Pierre had any trouble finding children his age to entertain him. In honor of Pierre’s father, Flora had begun a small school for the miners’ children. Even those who were too young for regular school were welcome. Flora’s main concern was having a safe place for the children to be while their parents worked. No child should have to suffer the way Pierre had.

  And, in the evenings, they invited the miners and anyone else who was interested to come in to learn to read for themselves so they wouldn’t be tricked by another Dougherty.

  Flora’s father joined them on the porch, Pierre on his shoulders. “So, I see Pierre is going to be a big brother.”

  “Oui,” Pierre said, puffing out his chest. “I cannot wait to tell my friends at the French gathering.”

  As part of their decision to continue honoring Pierre’s background and birth family, they took Pierre down to Leadville once a month to get together with the French families. Though Pierre could speak better English, Flora wanted him to maintain his native language and preserve some of his traditions.

  The shawl Sarah had given Pierre now hung proudly above his bed—except on some nights when he felt particularly lonely for his birth parents. Sarah occasionally visited, bringing her perfume to refresh the scent.

  Smiling from the very depths of her heart, Flora looked around at her family. Was it wrong to be so happy with such simplicity?

  “I’m sure your friends will be quite pleased for you,” Flora’s father said, putting the boy down with a measuring eye. “You’re getting heavy. Growing.”

  Pierre puffed out his chest. “I eat all my vegetables, so I can be strong, like Père. Strong enough to bring in all the fish. You are taking me fishing later?”

  Giving the little boy a squeeze, he said, “Don’t I always when I come up? Let me visit with your parents a little while longer, then we’ll find Peanut and see if he wants to join us.”

  Though the other miners had been disappointed to find that George had misled them, when the full story of how eager his brother-in-law’s associates had been to kill him came out, they’
d all been horrified. And given that George now worked right alongside them, not just as their boss, but as a man committed to helping them better their lives, the friendships that had begun were now blossoming.

  “I am hearing good things about your work here at the mine,” Flora’s father said, turning to George. “I can’t believe how much the profit margin has improved over the past year.”

  “It’s like my father always said, if you treat your people well, your business will thrive.” George gave Flora a squeeze. “But I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Flora. She’s the one who had the idea to help with the children so the parents could work. The ministry is coming again to spend the summer, and Flora is hoping to convince Pastor Lassiter to build a regular place of worship. We’ve been having Bible studies here at the cabin, but I think poor Flora would like her house back.”

  He smiled down at her, and even in this simple glance, Flora felt deeply loved.

  “Especially with the baby coming,” he said, giving her a kiss. “I don’t know how to count my blessings, because they keep multiplying faster than I can count.”

  “Then I suppose you’ll need to hire some help for the calculations,” Flora’s father said, holding his arm out to Flora’s mother.

  “We’ve been talking, and though I support your decision to be your own man and make your own way in the world, you’ve also been a good steward of my mine.” With a smile, Flora’s father pulled a paper out of his jacket.

  “Which is why I’ve made you both owners of the Pudgy Boy Mine.”

  Flora stared at him. “I don’t understand...”

  “Sir, you’re too generous,” George said.

  “None of that.” Flora’s father held up a hand. “The profits have more than doubled since you took over, and when I purchased the mine, I fully expected to barely break even, based on the numbers I’d seen and what I knew of the new vein. I only purchased the mine to honor a dear friend’s memory.”

  Then he gave Flora a look of such love, it warmed her heart more than she thought possible. “And because I wanted my daughter to have a roof over her head.”