Monk's Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  Monk nodded. “I guess he’s still at the Silver Slipper. Shall I wire for information?”

  Gabe met Monk’s gaze. “How are you wording the wire? A bribe to the telegrapher isn’t unheard of, you know.”

  “Thought about that walking here. How’s something like this? Um, parties interested in departures are seeking information.”

  Nate shook his head. “Not specific enough. Try… old pals need information on recent departures west.”

  Rafe shook his head. “How’s he gonna know he’ll get paid for the information?”

  Nate smiled. “He knows we’ve always paid sources.” To Monk, he said, “Better let me send the wire. Might look better if a lawyer was looking for names from a saloon than the bank president.”

  Monk rubbed his chin. “Might at that.” He touched the brim of his bowler and grinned. “Believe I’ll stroll over to the Judge’s and see what’s going on. Maybe I can learn the name of this bad man.”

  Rafe sat at his desk. “Please tell Aunt Fiona I’ll be there for supper.”

  Monk smiled as he strode down the street. Maybe he’d get invited for dinner, too. He’d been assured many times that he was always welcome, but he only showed up at mealtime if invited. He was pushing the time now but he was on a mission.

  Mrs. Peacock, who was the housekeeper, answered the door and invited him inside. He strolled into the parlor and met Fiona.

  Fiona clasped his arm. “How lovely to see you, Michael. I hope you can stay for supper.”

  “Thank you, I’d love to if it’s no trouble. I’m supposed to tell you Rafe will be here.”

  “We hoped he would. No point him eating on his own—or you either. Now, did you come to see Rob?”

  He lowered his voice, “Actually, I think you’re the one I need to ask. Do you know the name of the man who might try to follow your daughter here?”

  She gasped and her eyes widened. Resting a hand at her throat, she took a deep breath. “Sorry, but you caught me off guard. I forgot Rob was sending notes round to our kin. His name is Pete Downum but he’ll probably send one of his henchmen.”

  Hearing her include him with her kin always warmed his heart. “Nate and I are looking for information from Memphis but we didn’t have much to go on. The name will help.”

  “I was so upset I didn’t tell Rob enough details.” She looked up. “Oh, Betsie, did you have a nice nap?”

  Betsie’s smile lighted her face. She’d changed from her traveling clothes and held Liam’s hand as she descended the stairs. “Yes, how could I keep from enjoying that room? Liam, say hello to Grandma and Mr. Magonagle.”

  Dressed in clean clothes, Liam ran to him and hugged his knees. “Hi, Mr. Magle.” Then he hugged Fiona’s skirts. “Hi, Grandma. Are we gonna eat?”

  Betsie grabbed Liam’s hand. “Liam, remember I said you can’t ask that again? Grandma will tell us when to eat. Be a good boy.”

  Fiona laughed and caressed Liam’s cheek. “You’re a growing boy and they’re always hungry. Would you like for Ma and Michael to take you outside to play?”

  Eyes beaming excitement, Liam clapped his hands and looked at his mother. “Can we?”

  Fiona took Monk’s elbow. “You know the way. Would you show Betsie and Liam the back yard while I check on our supper?”

  “My pleasure. Liam, do you like to run or play ball best?”

  The boy stared at him.

  Betsie took her son’s hand. “He’s lived in town with no yard to speak of for playing and I wouldn’t let him play in the street. There wasn’t even a park within walking distance for his short legs.”

  “He’s in for a treat here. There are probably balls or toys the other children have left.” Monk looked forward to showing these two the rose garden, the gazebo, and the back yard.

  As they stepped out through the dining room French doors, Betsie clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh, this is beautiful. Mam said she’d added to an already lovely garden but I had no idea. Just smell the roses and honeysuckle.”

  Sure enough, Monk found yard toys where Dudley had stored them and gave Liam a ball. Liam stood looking at the ball then up at him then back at the ball.

  Monk took the ball and bounced it to Liam. The little boy laughed and rolled the ball on the grass. He threw the ball into the air and when it came down and bounced, Liam laughed some more.

  Betsie had tears in her eyes. “That’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh unless I tickled his tummy.”

  “Let’s see what other toys are in the barrel.” He sorted through them. “The rest are for older children.”

  She watched her son. “He’s content with the ball.”

  “Would you care to sit on the swing? I’ll watch Liam for you.” He suspected she’d had little time over the past few years where she relaxed.

  “Maybe we could both sit on the swing if Liam played nearby.”

  Monk squatted near the boy and touched the lawn. “See, Liam, this is grass and you can run and play on grass.”

  He touched the dirt in the flower bed. “The dirt is Grandma’s flower bed. Don’t bother it or we’ll be in big trouble. Don’t roll your ball on the dirt either.” He asked Liam to tell him the difference before he stood and tossed the ball to the boy.

  Brushing his hands together, he joined Betsie on the gazebo swing. “I should have a gazebo built at my place. In my mind’s eye I can see where one would fit.”

  “Oh, yes, you should. Would you plant roses and honeysuckle around it?”

  He smiled, relieved she appeared more at ease. “I think it’s a rule that I’d have to have them, don’t you?”

  They chatted about his home and his job but avoided discussing her problems. He sure steered clear of any mention of his past. Perhaps she’d already learned from letters Fiona had sent her. Naw, he wasn’t important enough to be mentioned in anyone’s correspondence.

  Monk forgot he had promised to help with Liam.

  Fiona came out the back door. “Supper’s ready. Liam, now you can eat.”

  Liam came running. In his hand he clutched a bunch of flowers he’d pulled from the flower bed. Mud clung to their roots and also decorated the front of Liam’s clothes.

  He showed them to Betsie. “Flowers for Ma.” The boy appeared so proud to have something to give his mother.

  Betsie’s eyes grew wide as saucers and a blush spread on her face and neck. “Liam, Mr. Magonagle showed you the difference between grass and dirt. Why did you bother Grandma’s flower bed?”

  Liam shook his head and appeared puzzled. “Didn’t step on dirt. Stayed on grass.”

  Monk apologized, “Forgive me, Fiona. I told Mrs. Hirsch I’d watch Liam so she could relax on the gazebo swing. But, I joined her and enjoyed talking to her so much I didn’t notice Liam had gotten out of sight. I know how you love your garden.”

  Betsie looked ready to deliver a stern lecture to her son.

  Before that could happen, Fiona took her grandson by the hand. “Let’s find a vase for the flowers so your mother can enjoy them longer.”

  With one hand Liam held Fiona and clutched the flowers in the other one. “Grandma, see how pretty?”

  “Yes, I love pretty flowers, don’t you?” She directed her gaze to Betsie and Monk. “You two go to the table. Liam and I will be along in a bit.”

  Betsie took two steps forward. “Mam, I’m so sorry. He’s a good boy, really he is.”

  Fiona sent her daughter an inscrutable look. “Go to the dining room and leave Liam to me.” She went into the kitchen while holding Liam’s hand.

  Monk turned toward the French doors and offered his arm for Betsie. “I think we’ve been put in our places. Shall we go inside for supper?”

  Chapter Five

  Two days later, Betsie sat in the nursery watching her son enjoy himself. There were enough toys for a dozen children. He’d found a wooden train and was on his knees pushing it around the floor.

  “Ma, look, chug chug.” He laughed and clapped hi
s hands then resumed being a railroad conductor.

  Fiona sat beside her. “Sure and seeing him so happy warms my heart. I’m sorry for all you’ve been through, dear, but I can’t tell you often enough how happy I am to have you and Liam here.”

  “I feel as if I’m in a lovely dream. Everything here is so beautiful and everyone I’ve met is friendly. I know it’s because they respect you and Himself, but it’s still awfully nice to be included.”

  “Well, Rob commands a lot of respect in the town. After all, he founded it.”

  Betsie faced her mother. “He did? I thought perhaps the town was older than that. I know he’s a good bit older than you. Mam, do you mind if I ask his age?”

  Her mother chuckled. “If you can get a direct answer out of him about that, I’ll be surprised. I suspect he’s about seventy, give or take a year. I’ve calculated from the Texas war for independence. Rob was not even twenty when he joined the fight for Texas independence from Mexico. Living in Texas now, I can’t avoid knowing that was in 1836.”

  “He’s near old enough to be your father.” Betsie could have bitten her tongue. “I meant no disrespect, Mam. He’s a fine figure of a man and so kind.”

  “That he is and so good to me. I hope you find someone as well-suited for you.”

  Betsie couldn’t help recalling how kind Monk had been to her. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” She laid a hand against her cheek and shame engulfed her. “Rolf is barely cold in his grave, so I shouldn’t even think such a thing.”

  Fiona took her hand and gazed into her eyes. “Life goes on, my child. It isn’t as if he was an ideal husband. I know you took your vows seriously, as you should have, but he’s gone and you have a life to make for you and Liam.”

  “I have to admit that when I learned he’d gambled away our home and everything in it, I was so angry. I was glad he was dead for I feared what I would have done to him if he were alive. He gave no thought to what would happen to Liam and me. Always it was the drink and gambling with his friends.” She shocked herself at her bitterness and anger.

  Fiona cradled Betsie’s hand between both of hers. “For some it’s a sickness, same as influenza—only a person rarely recovers.”

  “And Rolf didn’t try. He and his friends were the same. Give the wife just enough to buy a bit of food and then drink and gamble away the rest. If it weren’t for my sewing and mending for others, we’d have gone hungry. When he won, I’d sneak some money from his pocket after he passed out drunk and hide it from him.”

  “Oh, lass, what a way to live. It’s glad I am that part of your life is behind you.”

  Betsie tried to hide her bitterness. She hadn’t meant for Mam to know so much about her so-called marriage. The less Mam knew, the better.

  She’d better change the subject. “I think Liam and I have already gained weight. The food is wonderful here. I’ll bet he soon shoots up inches.”

  “Liam, what did you play before you came to see Grandma?”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “Bang bang on drum, blocks, with my dog.” He shook his head. “Not a real dog.”

  Betsie smiled at her precious son. “He used my wooden spoons on pots and pans to be a drummer. A neighbor gave us her son’s blocks with the alphabet on them and he’s learning his letters. I made him a stuffed dog for Christmas last year. I guess you’ve seen he sleeps with it.”

  “All children need something soft and cuddly to sleep with. You had your doll you named Esmerelda. Such a fun name for a doll.”

  “Where on earth would I have heard the name? Do you think it might have been in one of the stories you read me?”

  “Probably. We didn’t know anyone of that name. Now, tomorrow we’re going shopping. You need new clothes and so does Liam. Remember, you have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Mam, I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want to shame you but I hate taking things from you and Himself. Giving us a roof over our head and full stomachs is enough.”

  “I told Rob that’s what you’d say but he told me to insist. He loves to do nice things for nice people. He also loves having children in the house. So do I as long as they’re well-behaved, which all of our kin’s are so far.”

  Betsie groaned. “Except the one who throws up on people and pulls up your flowers by the roots.”

  “Nonsense. Liam’s a delight, so don’t say otherwise. I wouldn’t have been able to withhold food from the boy either. And, you remember he wanted those pretty flowers for my daughter.”

  Betsie started to speak but her mother cut her off.

  “I told him to ask me when he wanted to give you flowers and we’d choose them together with shears to cut the stems.” Fiona stood. “I believe it’s a little boy’s bedtime so I’ll go check on Himself.”

  She bent over. “Liam, come tell Grandma goodnight.”

  He rushed to hug her and she kissed his cheek. “Can I sleep here, Grandma?” He pointed to one of the small beds at the end of the room.

  “That’s up to you and Ma. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  When her mother had left, Betsie smoothed Liam’s hair away from his face. “Do you remember how to get to Ma’s room in case you change your mind?”

  He nodded. “I’m a big boy now.”

  “You put the toys where they go. I’ll help.”

  When he’d said his prayers and was tucked into bed with his dog, she kissed Liam goodnight. She left the gas light burning low so if he woke in the night he wouldn’t be frightened. She should be happy to be in this wonderful home and see her son regaining his confidence. In spite of that, she felt hollow.

  Perhaps the horror of losing her husband and her home would dim.

  Perhaps in time she’d adjust to living here as a hanger-on.

  Perhaps she’d grow wings and fly.

  Betsie had just snuggled down in bed when she heard her son come into her room. She’d left the door slightly ajar in case he wanted to sleep with her again.

  “Ma, can I be a big boy tomorrow?” He climbed onto the bed with his dog.

  She pulled aside the covers and snuggled him next to her. “That’s all right, Liam. We’ll both do better tomorrow.”

  ***

  Betsie had never left Liam with anyone before, but Heidi Sohn, the maid, insisted she would stay up in the nursery and watch him. So, Betsie and Fiona started the day at Novak’s Mercantile and stocked up on clothes for Liam and unmentionables for Betsie. When they passed the fabric, Betsie let her fingers slide along the selection.

  Fiona pulled her away. “I know you’re a good seamstress, but we don’t have time for you to sew a new wardrobe. We’ll go to the dressmaker.” Fiona guided her to the front counter.

  The man Betsie thought was the owner totaled up their purchases. “Shall I have these delivered, Mrs. Kincaid?”

  Fiona smiled at him. “Yes, please. Mr. Novak, this is Mrs. Hirsch, my daughter who’s staying with us. Please allow her to charge to our account.”

  “Certainly, always glad to add more charges there.” He chuckled. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hirsch. I’m sure you’ll come to like our community.”

  Betsie was struck by shyness but she forced herself to respond. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Novak. I like Kincaid Springs already.”

  After they left the store, Betsie laid a hand at her throat. “I feel like a parasite, Mam. Surely there’s something I can do to earn my keep.”

  “When we have guests, you’ll need to help me entertain them.” She glanced sideways at Betsie. “Oh, I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been here. You’ll be surprised at my ability to run that big house and have dinners and parties. You’ll be learning, too, so you can do the same when you remarry.”

  “If I remarry.” Betsie linked her arm with her mother’s. “I’m not surprised at anything you can do, Mam. You’ve always been an amazing woman. I wish I were as strong and smart as you.”

  “Phfft. You’re stronger than you know and smart as a whip. Now, tell me what you think of the people you’v
e met so far.”

  “Sarah was so friendly. She acted as if we’d known one another for years. Rafe was pleasant. Polly, Heidi, and Mrs. Peacock are also very kind. Dudley’s size is astounding but he seems gentle and sweet. Monk was certainly nice to me when I fainted at his feet and didn’t even get angry when Liam threw up on him.”

  “I’ve never heard him raise his voice. Michael’s a good man and an asset to our town. I’m so glad he settled here.”

  “Why do some people call him Monk?” Betsie couldn’t tamp down the curiosity she had for this man.

  “Because he lives like one. Before he came here, he was a gambler. Nate—that’s Sarah’s husband—said Michael’s primary job was to keep Nate out of trouble. I believe he was often unsuccessful.” Fiona chuckled and bumped shoulders with Betsie.

  They detoured around three businessmen talking.

  Fiona continued, “Nate’s parents took Michael in when he was a boy so they’re like brothers. Where Nate is a reformed rascal, I’ve heard Michael has never taken over one or two drinks, apparently doesn’t consort with loose women, attends mass each Sunday, and lives modestly except for finally buying his home. That was after Rob told him he needed to appear stable and prosperous.”

  “Sarah said she decorated and furnished it for him. It’s lovely on the outside. I admired the fern on the porch and he said you gave it to him.”

  “I’ve convinced him to let me oversee planting flowers in the spring. Don’t they brighten a home?” Her mother stopped and opened a door that stated Suzanne’s Couturier Designs in fancy gold lettering “Here’s the dressmaker.”

  Betsie scanned the small shop. Rolls of cloth stacked vertically lined two walls. Colors like a rainbow and textures of every type took away her breath. This must be a dream.

  A smiling woman of indeterminate age came forward. “Mrs. Kincaid, how nice to see you. What can I do for you today?”

  Fiona placed a hand on Betsie’s arm. “This is my daughter, Mrs. Hirsch. Her clothes met with an accident. She needs a new wardrobe of flattering dresses for daytime and evening and for entertaining my grandson on picnics and such. I’ll trust you to dress her suitably.”