He thought about his conversation with John as he walked down the street and across to the saloon. There was smoke drifting from the open doors and he almost reconsidered. But the thought of a shot or two was more intriguing than ever.
He passed through the doorway and looked around. The saloon looked like any other Philip had ever seen, with tables scattered around the front, an organ against the wall on one side with an animated player sitting in front of it, banging on the keys while pretty women danced around, flirting with the men.
Those were definitely not the kind of women he would be interested in marrying. They might be fine, intelligent ladies. But they were obviously not worried about flirting with every man that walked in the place. He didn’t want a woman with a job like that.
Philip walked past the other patrons, some of them nodding at him or lifting a hand to wave. He nodded and waved back, strolling to the bar and sitting on one of the stools. Hal, the bartender, came directly to him, a look of mild surprise on his large, flat face. He was rubbing a towel in a glass which he set right in front of Philip.
“It’s a pleasure to see ya, Jenkins,” he said. “What brings you in here tonight?”
Philip shrugged. “I’ve got to go see my parents and thought I’d come in and get a drink first.”
The look of surprise intensified. “Everything okay with y’all?”
Philip chuckled, watching Hal pour a shot of whiskey into the clean glass he’d set on the counter. “Have you met my pa?”
This brought a smile to Hal’s face and he poured a double instead. “He in a mood?”
“He’s always in a mood, Hal. But it’s not as bad as some people think, being over there. I know he can be hard on a lot of people. He’s been hard on me, too. He doesn’t have a lot of friends because of that. But when he’s around my ma…” Philip shook his head. “He’s a different man. Ma makes him happy. He’s not happy, I think, when he’s away from her. He takes that out on everyone else.”
“A damn shame, I say,” Hal said. “People in Glenwood want to be his friend. But he’s got that Old Man Jenkins reputation, don’t he?”
Philip laughed. Hal looked relieved and Philip knew the bartender thought for a moment that he’d gone too far. “Yeah, he’s got that reputation for sure,” he responded. “But he only has eyes for my ma, like I said. And when she’s not around, he’s Old Man Jenkins to the core.”
Both men laughed quietly.
Philip tossed the shots back, feeling the burn as it went down his throat and settled in his stomach. He immediately felt light-headed. “That’s some good whiskey, Hal. Thanks.”
Hal nodded. “Anything for the man with the power to destroy any business he wants.”
Philip almost choked, setting the glass back down on the counter. “I’ll take another.”
“You sure about that?” Hal laughed. Despite asking the question, he poured another shot from the whiskey bottle before Philip could respond.
“Don’t question my decisions, sir,” Philip said, giving the bartender a sarcastic grin. “I’ll destroy you with my mighty pen and printing press.”
They both laughed again.
“I appreciate the drinks,” Philip took out his coin bag and set several on the counter in front of him. “I gotta get to my parents’ house.”
“You have a good evening, Philip. It was good to see you. Next time you come in, try to stay a while and we’ll catch up.”
“Sounds good, buddy.” Philip lifted one hand to the man and turned away. He watched the dancing women and enjoyed the bouncy tune the organ player was belting out. He was singing along with the tune, throwing his head back and letting it all out. The women around him were laughing and draping themselves over several men sitting nearby.
The air outside was refreshing and clear of smoke. He stopped outside the doors at the bottom of the steps and looked down the street. There were a few people walking up and down the walkways on both sides of the street.
He tipped his hat to several ladies as he walked past them to go to his horse in front of the printing office. He was surprised to see the three women smile back at him. One of them looked him directly in his eyes. It made him feel strange inside and he began to think that maybe he hadn’t given any of the women in Glenwood a chance.
Philip reached his horse just a few seconds later. He pulled himself up into the saddle and turned the horse toward his parents’ house, which could be seen in the far distance on the left side of the road. It was hugely tall, reaching up into the sky with a peaked roof almost as tall as the church steeple.
His father had done that on purpose, making the house taller instead of wider, so he could have more room on the smaller plot of land he had. He liked to say his mansion reached up into the heavens instead of spreading out across the landscape.
His mind was a bit foggy from the whiskey. He closed his eyes, allowing his horse to move at a slow pace. He enjoyed the gentle breeze against his hot face. He would have to sober up at least a little bit before he went in the house. His pa would surely know if he went in with a red nose, swaying as he walked. His mother would tell his father to settle down, that Philip was an adult and could stop in the saloon if he wanted.
And while his father was fully aware of this fact, he would still be unhappy and cross with Philip for at least a few minutes. Philip didn’t want to hear any complaining whatsoever.
By the time he got to the house and he’d dismounted, he realized three shots was probably too many if he wanted to present himself as completely sober when he got to his parents.
He threw the reins over the post in front of the house and pushed aside the gate to go down the pathway to the front door. He went in without knocking, heading directly to the parlor, where his parents always waited for him.
“Philip!” His mother, Vivian, jumped up from the couch and crossed the room quickly, her arms held out toward her son. She wrapped him in a warm hug. He couldn’t help thinking how much weight she’d lost. He wondered if it was healthy for her. She seemed bony to him now. But she didn’t look unhealthy and looked happy so he pushed the thoughts aside, giving her a soft kiss on her cheek before they parted.
“Good evening, Mother. How are you feeling this evening?”
“I feel good.” She smiled at him. To his surprise, she tapped him on the nose like she’d done when he was a child and had been slightly naughty. “I see you’ve had a good evening, too.”
Philip’s cheeks turned red. “I… I stopped in at the Broken Gun.”
Vivian nodded. “I can smell that you did. But you’re entitled to do that and I’ll tell you what, I’d rather you be here than still drinking there and taking a risk at getting involved in a brawl.”
Philip laughed softly. “Oh ma, I can’t even remember the last time there was a brawl in that place.”
“That’s because you never get out and do anything,” his father answered, coming up and patting Philip on the back. “Thank you for coming to help us out, son. It means a lot to your mother and me that you don’t stay in that office of yours all the time. You need to get out and have a good time sometimes, too.”
“Maybe you’ll find a good woman and settle down someday,” Vivian said, taking hold of his hand and walking with him to the couch.
“Ugh,” Philip grunted. “Have you been talking to John? Why is everyone so sure I need a woman in my life?”
“Oh, has he been saying something about that too?” His father said, settling his large body back into his chair. They would take a moment to catch up and relax before going to do the chores that needed to be done. “Your mother and I just happened to be talking about it before you came. I tried to get her to say nothing. It’s your life and if you don’t want to get married, then more power to you.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to get married, Ma,” Philip said, giving her a warm smile. “I just haven’t found anyone yet. The right woman hasn’t come to Glenwood.”
“Hasn’t come to Glenwood
?” His mother’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “There are woman already here. Good women, I might add.”
“Don’t you go telling me I need to talk to Miss Ross.”
His parents looked at each other. His chest tightened at the thought that they had also been thinking about the schoolteacher.
“I hadn’t thought of her actually,” Vivian said. “But it sounds like someone else has mentioned her to you. I take it John asked you about her. Or mentioned her.”
“He did. She came to see me today.”
“Oh?” Although his mother answered, both his parents looked surprised. “What did she want?”
“She wants me to switch up some of the content in the newspaper. Try to make it more appealing to women. I don’t know if I should do that. I feel like I’d alienate a lot of regular buyers.”
“Men,” Vivian said, a bit of disgust lacing her words. “You mean alienate men. Like John’s father.”
Philip nodded. “Yes. Like the mayor.”
“That man isn’t worth your trouble,” his father grunted. “He needs to be replaced.”
“That’s the buzz,” Philip replied in an agreeing tone.
“That sounds like a good article for you to print.”
Philip looked at his father. Maybe it was. He wouldn’t have the support he had if he did though.
But then, how much did Mayor Hanover really support him anyway?
Chapter 11
The morning air was crisp and clean as Mary hurried down the street. She’d stopped in at the restaurant for a bite to eat but didn’t want to be late for school. Her arms were filled with books she’d taken home the night before to create a new curriculum based on the chapters they would be studying next.
She got closer to the Jenkins Printing and became distracted almost immediately. Her heart pounded hard as she approached the window. She wondered if anyone was on the other side that would see her pass by. Specifically, Philip Jenkins.
In her hurry, she felt her skirts becoming tangled around her legs. She reached down to untangle her skirt and the books shuffled in her hands. In the next moment, they all went tumbling down to the wooden walkway… right in front of Jenkins Printing.
Mary wondered if Philip had been standing right in the doorway because only a second or two later, he was kneeling beside her, gathering books and papers that had scattered from between the pages.
“Oh, let me help,” he said.
She couldn’t help staring at him for just a moment. He truly was a good-looking man. She was always impressed when she saw him, despite the fact that he was a stubborn man who didn’t want to take a new look at anything.
“Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.”
“It would be nice if you would call me Philip, Miss Ross,” he said.
“Well, I certainly can’t do that if you’re calling me Miss Ross. That would make you one of my students. I don’t call them by their last names.”
“Would it be all right if I called you Mary?”
She felt a tingle slide through her as she heard the soft tone of his voice. He truly was asking the question, and not in a sarcastic way. She wondered what had changed. Maybe he was just in a good mood today or had been in a bad mood that day, and this was the way he usually acted. She realized in that moment how little she knew about the press operator.
“You can call me Mary,” she said. “We have to keep things even between us, don’t we? Plus, you are older than me, I believe.”
Philip looked shocked but she could tell it was overdone. “Me? I’m only 22, didn’t you know that?”
Mary laughed softly, for the first time thinking maybe he wasn’t who she thought he was. He was actually quite charming.
At least that’s how he was acting right then.
“It looks like you could use some help taking these books and papers to the school. I assume that’s where you’re going in such an all-fire hurry?”
Mary nodded, snatching the last paper from the ground before the slight breeze could take it far away from her. “I am going to the school. Do you have time to help me? I don’t want to take you away from anything you were doing.”
Philip shook his head. “I was standing in the doorway enjoying the morning and a cup of coffee. Would you like one before we go?”
She shook her head. “I really can’t. I have to make some when I get there and light the fires so the room is warm by the time the children get there.”
“You’re awfully early, aren’t you?” Without her asking, Philip kept the books and papers he’d picked up against his chest as he walked beside her.
“I have to get there before everyone.”
“What about Mrs. Edwards?”
Mary was amused by the tone he used when he spoke of the older woman. She had been there when he was in school and if she was anything like she was when Mary was attending, she understood that tone of voice. He wasn’t disgusted by her but it didn’t sound like he was exactly a friend to the woman.
“She doesn’t get there till later. You see, we have the older children come in a little earlier and the younger children come in a little later.”
Philip pulled his eyebrows together, giving her a confused look. “Why would you do that?”
“Because Mrs. Edwards says the littler children are harder to teach when they haven’t had enough sleep.”
Philip gave her a skeptical look. “Let me guess. She is in charge of the younger children.”
Mary stared at him with a blank look for a moment. “Yes… she does.”
He nodded as if he understood immediately. “I see. So, she gets you to come in early and teach the older children… the ones who need to be at home working on their farms or doing morning chores. Sounds like the older children have a lot put on their shoulders every morning. Sad.”
Mary had never thought about it like that before. It might have been one of the reasons Matthew was having trouble coming to town. She could think of several other children who came in looking exhausted, like they hadn’t slept at all. The truth was that they had to get up extra early every morning and if their chores didn’t get done by the time school started, they would either be late or not show up at all. If they didn’t show up, they were probably taking a nap. If they did show up, they might also take a nap – during their lessons.
Mary didn’t come down hard on the students who fell asleep in her class. Sometimes, she let them rest for a while and willingly stayed after for a bit to go over the information they’d missed.
“I… don’t think I’ve thought of that before. But I wouldn’t be surprised. Mrs. Edwards doesn’t really like children, I don’t think.” She blushed, ashamed of her gossip. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure she loves little children. That’s why she’s a teacher. I guess.”
Philip chuckled. She looked up at him. “What are you laughing about?” she asked, trying not to sound offended.
He shook his head. “I think she just wants to sleep later. When I was in school, she was a lot younger. She was like that then, too. Stern and unapproachable. I don’t know why anyone with an attitude like that would want to teach little children.”
Mary didn’t feel comfortable talking about Mrs. Edwards but she’d been keeping a lot of things in for a while. She began to talk about the troubles she’d been having, not thinking about the fact she was talking to the newspaper man until they were halfway to the school. She narrowed her eyes up at him but made sure her amusement was clear in her words.
His Rainbow After the Rain Page 7