Grooms with Honor Series, Books 10-12

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “And now?”

  They paused when they heard the door to the back room open and Kiowa step into the bedroom a moment later. He stopped to stare a second, apparently not aware when he walked in that her mother was sitting at her bedside.

  Mary watched him carefully slip his jeweler’s loupe glasses off his face, bend the ear pieces flat, and slip them into his vest pocket.

  “Darcie. Thank you for coming over to visit Mary. The last time I checked on her, she was sleeping,” Kiowa said as he walked up beside the bed.

  Darcie paused, looking at Kiowa and then his vest, trying to figure out what Kiowa was doing with those glasses, but Kiowa didn’t explain himself, so she wouldn’t either.

  Plus, Kiowa had on clean clothes, not his blacksmithing leather apron and usual layer of sweat and soot from working in the smithy.

  “Darcie was saying we need to talk to Ennis and Flora about our marriage,” Mary spoke quickly before Darcie could ask about Kiowa’s glasses, or say anything about her back injury. “They know something is going on between us, but don’t know the details.”

  “Uh, Ennis has already confronted me, and I admit I caved to his inquisition, but I told him they couldn’t visit until you’re ready,” Kiowa confessed.

  “See, Mary. I told you people are wondering about you two,” Darcie confirmed part of their conversation.

  Kiowa met Mary’s eyes, questioning her wishes.

  “If you want to talk to your grandparents, I’ll go over to the boarding house now while your mother is with you.”

  Mary hated that she’d kept her marriage secret, but the thing to remember was they were worried about her injuries, not her marital status. Ennis and Flora wouldn’t be prejudiced against Kiowa anyway. Being Irish immigrants, they knew what it felt like to be scorned for being different when they arrived in America.

  “Thank you, Kiowa. I think they need to know the facts. I’ll stay with Mary until you return,” Darcie said before turning back to Mary.

  Mary held her breath, knowing what Darcie would want to know next as soon as she heard Kiowa had left the house.

  “And what other secret—or secrets—are you and Kiowa keeping from your family?”

  Mary took a deep breath but pursed her lips instead of answering.

  A very expensive one.

  Chapter 7

  After the bombardment of questions from Ennis, Kiowa figured he just as well stop at Pastor Reagan’s office and…let the pastor continue the interrogation. Or confess what he and Mary had been hiding?

  Kiowa didn’t know what to think, but he needed an impartial person who wasn’t related to Mary to talk to.

  He opened the front church door and walked up the aisle to the pastor’s office in the back portion of the church instead of using the closer back side door to the office. Kiowa was going to have to start going to church with Mary now that their secret was out, so he just as well get used to walking inside the interior.

  Usually Kiowa sat on the front church steps to listen to the service when the weather was nice or stepped inside the foyer if the weather was wet or cold.

  The only two times he’d sat in church was for Holly and Nolan’s wedding, because he walked Holly up the aisle, and when he was a pall bearer for Dan Clancy’s funeral.

  Kiowa knocked on the partially open door of the pastor’s office. Pastor sat at his cluttered desk, writing something, perhaps this Sunday’s sermon.

  “Come in, Kiowa. Have a seat,” Pastor waved at the two wooden chairs in front of his desk. The white-plastered room was small, with a full wall of book shelves right behind the desk, and the two chairs in front of the desk, making the room seem tight. Kiowa wanted to pull on his collar in response to the closeness in the room. His back workroom was twice this size.

  “Hello, Kiowa. What can I do for you?”

  “Um, worried about the Jenkins family, and wanted to talk to you about that,” Kiowa confessed as he took off his hat and sat down in front of the pastor.

  “How are Mary and Burdette?” Pastor started the conversation.

  “Burdie’s leg seems to be on the mend, probably because she’s young. I think she and Nolie are enjoying being spoiled by their grandparents.

  “And Mary?”

  Kiowa thought how to go about talking about his wife. He didn’t think she’d be upset with talking to pastor about their situation.

  “I’m taking care of her at my home, because we married five months ago.”

  “Ah, I heard rumors that she was staying with you. So, you’re married, and I, and especially my wife, didn’t know this? Where did you marry, if I might ask?”

  “In the First Presbyterian Church in Niagara Falls, New York.”

  Pastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “New York? What the heck were you both doing in New York state?”

  “Mary and the children were visiting their relatives in Rochester. Although Mary and her mother are barely cordial to each other, Mary is close to her uncles’ families.”

  Kiowa paused, but decided to plunge in. “And I went to Buffalo to check on my…business. We didn’t leave Clear Creek together on the train but met up in Kansas City and traveled together after that.”

  “You do close the blacksmith shop and disappear about twice a year. But you’ve mentioned you no longer have any living relatives. I assume you get tired of the townspeople and spend time alone on the Plains..”

  “Just what do you think a native would do, Pastor?”

  “Well, I long for Ireland’s countryside now and then. I assume you’re the same with wishing to return to the past. I know you grew up in western Kansas.”

  “But you know my past is mixed because of my half-breed heritage,” Kiowa waved a finger in the air.

  “My parents never married, but my father kept track of me. I was sent to an Indian School after the Civil War, because my mother was a native. But my father, a white high-ranking career military man, found out and pulled me out of that degrading place, and sent me to live with my grandfather in Buffalo, New York.”

  “What age were you then?”

  “Ten years old. I lived in the white man’s world for the next nineteen years until I moved back to Kansas in 1884.”

  “I didn’t know that. Most people think you’ve always lived in the area, until you moved to Clear Creek and bought the blacksmith shop from John Anderson,” Pastor noted with a half-smile.

  “What trade did you learn in Buffalo?” Pastor challenged him.

  Kiowa thought a second, and then pulled his jeweler’s loupe glasses from his vest pocket.

  “I’m a silversmith, specializing in jewelry.”

  “The anniversary rings our sons gave to us at Tully’s wedding! Did you make them?”

  “Yes, I did. But most of my work goes back to New York.”

  “When do you have time to work on fine jewelry? Doesn’t the smithy keep you busy?”

  “Far from it, and that was the plan all along. I needed a front to work on my real career while I lived in Kansas,” Kiowa said with a shrug.

  Pastor shook his head in disbelief, and then asked another question.

  “Why not sell your jewelry in Kansas City, or somewhere closer than New York?”

  Kiowa tented his fingers, wondering how to break the facts to the man.

  “Have you heard of the KW Jones Silversmith Company? You might check the church’s silver collection plates as they may have the company stamp on the bottom. The company makes shallow ware—dishes, candlesticks, vases, etc., and flatware. Their silver jewelry is sold in most of the finer jewelry stores in the Northeast.” Kiowa said, then sat back to let Pastor figure out Kiowa’s connection to New York. He’d never told a soul in Kansas, except for Mary and then later her children.

  Pastor huffed as he smiled widely. “I’m guessing that’s your grandfather’s business?”

  “It was until he died ten years ago. Then the business was bequeathed to his grandson, Kimball William Jones III.”

&n
bsp; Pastor slummed back in his chair, his mouth slack-jawed with surprise.

  “Good Deuteronomy, Kiowa! How rich are you? And why are you hiding out living here instead of in the high society of New York?”

  “After two years of running the business, I needed to escape to a simpler life. I have good managers in place and I didn’t need to be in house all the time.”

  “And you’ve lived a double life for the past eight years.”

  “Yes, and part of the time even married to Mary, although we kept it a secret, fearing what people would think of a white woman married to me.

  “Mary’s children have always known, but the rest of Mary’s Kansas family didn’t until Mary’s fall. Her accident prompted me to recall our wedding vows, and I stepped up to care for her—with her blessing, of course—since it affected her family.”

  “We’ve been silent about it to our friends, pretending Mary is staying with the Shepards to recover instead of my home.”

  Pastor nodded. “Yes, you should put your wife, family, and marriage first. Mary’s family is upset, rightfully so, but they’ll get used to it. After Mary and Burdette are able to move back to their apartment, how will you handle your marriage? Back to secrecy or tell your friends and live with her in their apartment?”

  “No matter if Mary would like things to go back to normal, I fear they won’t,” Kiowa confessed. “She has no movement or feeling in her right leg, Pastor. And I’m afraid she might be paralyzed or handicapped for the rest of her life.”

  Shock and concern changed the pastor’s expression. “Oh, no! I pray to God she’ll walk again, but time will tell. What does Doctor Pansy say about Mary’s condition?”

  “We need to be patient. It could take weeks of healing before we know if there is permanent damage to her spine, which is causing the problem.”

  “Could you travel to Kansas City, or Back East to see a specialist?”

  “It’s only been four days. I might be fearing the worst too soon. But yes, we’ll travel to get help, if she doesn’t improve.”

  Kiowa was wealthy and could afford the best doctors and care for his wife, but that still might not be enough for Mary to walk again.

  “And in the weeks to come? Are you keeping Mary isolated to keep your secrets?”

  “I think we need to announce our marriage and start living as a family, even if the kids need to stay at the Shepards for a while longer. I don’t feel comfortable carrying Mary up and down the steep steps of her apartment in her fragile state, and I don’t think Mary is ready to face them yet either.”

  “Then Mary needs to have her friends visit her at your home, which I’m guessing isn’t just the single room the Anderson’s used to live in?”

  Kiowa couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I think you and Kaitlyn need to come over soon to visit Mary. The storage section everyone thought I added to the blacksmith shop? Mack and I built it, and Mary furnished it into an apartment instead.”

  “My son, Mack, has kept a secret from me too? The old room is just a ‘front’ to keep people from knowing the truth?”

  “Partly. It’s also another layer to secure my jewelry workroom and keep jewels safe. And that secret, Pastor, needs to be kept. A few people know I ‘dabble’ in making rings, made from a worktable that is in the old living quarters. No one knows the extent of my profession or inventory behind the locked doors of my workroom.

  “I expect this part of my life to be kept in your confidence, because it truly is no one’s business. I am Clear Creek’s blacksmith, and that’s all. And I don’t want a robbery to happen if word gets out about my inventory.”

  “I’ll agree to that. But can I tell Kaitlyn? I swear she won’t tell another soul,” Pastor grinned as he leaned forward with excitement.

  At least keeping the secret of his wealth was better than the sorrows and grief the Reagans have had to bear in their congregation over the years.

  And Pastor and Kaitlyn had been so good to him, not judging him and accepting him as a friend, even if he didn’t sit in the congregation every Sunday.

  “All right. I know you have a Bible, or two, she can swear on.”

  Kiowa stood up, feeling better than he had since Mary had fallen. Whatever happened with Mary’s condition, the pastor and his family would be available for support and help.

  Pastor Reagan lifted his hand to shake Kiowa’s, but he didn’t let go as he said, “I sense you came to my office to get a little advice beside unloading the burden resting on your shoulders. The best suggestion I can give you is to follow the wedding vows you spoke to your wife, and in front of your step-children. Those three are the most important people in your life and you should be that to them too.

  “Ignore the remarks ignorant people make and enjoy the family life you should be embracing.”

  Pastor gently squeezed Kiowa’s hand and let go.

  “Thanks, Pastor. You’re right. It’s time we become a family.”

  “Which means I expect you to sit with your family at every Sunday church service from now on,” Pastor added, pointing his finger at Kiowa.

  Kiowa laughed, feeling the weight on his chest lift a little. His friends in town, especially the Reagan clan, outnumbered the prejudiced people he worried about hurting Mary, Burdie, and Nolie. He and Mary were committed to each other, and it was time to show Mary’s children that love conquered all.

  Chapter 8

  “Mary, you need to let people in to visit you. You’ve never been one to shun friends. They just want to help cheer you up, help pass the time as you recuperate,” Darcie pleaded, but Mary kept her face turned to the wall.

  It had been two weeks since her fall, and Mary still couldn’t move her right foot. She knew she was wallowing in self-pity, but the reality that she may never walk again depressed her. Why couldn’t her mother realize how devastating this was?

  Or, Darcie was denying it too, pretending tomorrow would be the day Mary would stand on her own two feet and walk to the commode—instead of Kiowa having to carry her. Mary knew it still upset Darcie that she was staying with Kiowa instead of at the Shepard house.

  Kiowa had been very supportive through the ordeal, turning away people who wanted to visit her, and to snoop around Kiowa’s home. He’d also closed the blacksmith shop to stay inside with her, and he rarely left the premises except to run errands around town.

  He said it was fine with him to lock the blacksmith doors, as he preferred to work on his new line of silver brooches anyway, but still, Mary had disturbed Kiowa’s life.

  He locked the home door though, not wanting anyone to enter when he had the workroom door open. Security of the inventory was priority. When someone knocked, he took off his special glasses, closed the work door, then invited people in.

  Now Kiowa leaned against the door frame of the bedroom, his hands in his pants’ pockets, quietly listening as Darcie begged her to be…social. But Mary didn’t feel like doing anything anymore. The reality of her situation had crushed her soul.

  The three of them turned toward the sound of someone knocking on the front door. Mary eased her shoulders, recognizing Doctor Pansy’s rap on the wooden door. The woman faithfully checked on her every day.

  Kiowa disappeared for a second to let the doctor in. Mary strained to hear what they were saying as they walked to the bedroom, but their voices were too low.

  “Hello ladies. Darcie, if you don’t mind, I’d like to examine and talk to Mary privately?”

  Darcie only hesitated a second, and then stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in by Mary’s bedside. “Of course, Doctor.” Darcie bent over to lightly kiss Mary’s forehead.

  “Please consider what I asked, Mary,” Darcie whispered before leaving the room and letting Kiowa usher her out.

  Doctor Pansy stood listening to the sound of the outer door closing before turning to Mary.

  “And what was that about?” Doctor Pansy asked as she sat in the chair Darcie had just vacated.

  Mary turned her head
toward the doctor. “My mother was lecturing me about my not hosting guests for tea and refreshments.”

  Doctor Pansy gasped in mock horror “How dare she! Doesn’t she know every woman in town would like to see the blacksmith’s hidden love nest and would fill this bedroom beyond capacity?”

  Kiowa was back inside the bedroom, trying his hardest not to snicker.

  Mary volleyed her stare between the two of them, but then tried a smile of her own. She’d had so little improvement that she’d turned sour on everything.

  “She means well, Mary. That’s what mothers do, right? You try to encourage your children too.”

  “Yes, I would, if I could be with them,” Mary muttered as she felt the veil of depression weigh on her chest again. Nolie and Burdette, now proficient on her crutches, visited Mary every day but it wasn’t the same as living together.

  “Well, your chance is coming up tomorrow. It’s the end-of-school picnic and Burdette wants you to be there with her. She gets around fine on her crutches but is self-conscious about them.”

  “No. I can’t go out,” Mary vehemently shook her head.

  “Kiowa ordered that top-of-the-line wicker rolling chair for you, and I bet you haven’t sat in it yet,” Doctor Pansy commented, and pointed at the chair in the corner that Mary had ignored on purpose.

  “Even though you can’t walk, the rest of your body is functioning just fine, and you need to get in that chair and get outside in some sunshine and fresh air.”

  “No, I’m not ready—”

  “Is that an official doctor’s order, Doc Pansy?” Kiowa interrupted Mary, quietly challenging the doctor.

  “Yes, it is, Mary, but not only for your sake. Your children need you to resume your family life together, even if it means you’re sitting in a chair watching them. I dare say this has been hardest on Nolie, because he feels your accident was his fault. And Burdette is still feeling pain in her broken bone. Even though she’s twelve, she needs her mother to ‘kiss and make it better.’”

  Mary pressed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. She couldn’t keep wallowing in her grief when her children needed her.