Danny hugged Alfrid. "You won't be sorry," he said.
"I hadn't planned to tell you until we had received an answer from your mother," Alfrid said. He glanced toward the stairs, and Danny knew what Alfrid meant when he added, "But things were rapidly getting out of hand."
"Who's going to tell Mrs. Pratka?" Danny asked.
He and Alfrid looked at each other. "Let's hope that Melba will," Alfrid mumbled.
A voice spoke from the doorway. "I will, and I'll add that you've taken leave of your senses," Melba said. She flounced into the room and sat stiffly on one of the chairs. "It's time for some plain talk, Alfrid," she said. "You don't know this woman you offered marriage to. You know nothing about her."
"Her name is Noreen Kelly," Alfrid said.
"All right. Noreen Kelly. What do you know about her?"
"Andrew said he was told she is a woman of great courage and principle."
Peg spoke up. "She's beautiful."
"She loves us," Danny said.
"She's our mother." Peg's face was shining.
Melba sighed and sank back in the chair. "Oh, very well, Alfrid. You were thinking of the children. But how can you—? You don't love this woman."
"You are the one who reminded me that love was unnecessary."
"But I didn't mean—" Melba broke off, frowning for a moment before she sat upright again. "What's done is done," she said. "Even though I think you've made a terrible mistake, Alfrid, now it's time to make plans for the future. When do you think you'll hear from this woman?" Alfrid's eyebrows dipped into a scowl, and she quickly amended, "Noreen Kelly, that is."
"We hope within a week or two."
"If she agrees, then she should arrive within another two weeks. Is that right?"
"I suppose so."
"Where will she stay when she arrives in St. Joseph?"
"Katherine Banks has offered her home."
Melba nodded, and Danny could see her ticking points off in her mind as though they were written on a long list. "Very well. The wedding can take place soon afterward. I will write to Samuel and tell him not to expect me until the latter part of February. In the meantime we will clean this house from top to bottom. I will not have Mrs. Kelly thinking that I shirked my job when I came to help you."
Melba, who was now caught up in her plans, rattled on, but Danny stopped listening. Ma, he thought over and over, as though his thoughts could reach her. Ma, you've got to agree! You've got to come!
The answer came by telegraph, much sooner than Danny had expected, and was hand delivered by Andrew late one afternoon. The icicles on the eaves outside the kitchen window had caught the sunlight, casting streaks of glittering, unnatural light into the room.
Danny felt as though he'd been caught in an unreal world, a sparkling kind of dream, as he watched Alfrid slowly and deliberately tear open the envelope, remove the message, and read it. So scared that his stomach hurt, Danny wanted to grab the paper from Alfrid's hands and read for himself what it said.
Peg stared up at Alfrid, while Melba and Gussie, who had been scrubbing out the oven in the brick fireplace, turned from their work. No one spoke. No one moved.
Finally Alfrid looked down at Danny and Peg. He began to speak, then had to stop and clear his throat. He
tried again, the muscles in his neck strained and tense. "Your mother will come," he managed to say.
Peg flew into Danny's arms, hopping up and down so excitedly that he had to fight to keep his balance. But he saw Alfrid turn to Andrew with a stricken look on his face and murmur under his breath, "What have I done?"
"Look at the children," Andrew answered.
Gussie got to her feet, dusting off her apron with hands so grimy they left black streaks. "Miz Kelly won't be the first wife sent for by mail," she said. "I heard about a whole boat full of 'em who sailed from New England all the way around to Oregon, because there was no women livin' there, only men badly needin' wives."
"Gussie!" Melba hissed. "Topics like that are not fit for a girl your age to speak of, especially in mixed company."
Gussie simply shrugged. "If you say so," she answered, "but it's a good story. If you want to hear it, we'll wait till the mixed company's gone outside and I'll tell you."
Andrew smiled and said, "Time for me to head back to town. It gets mighty cold once the sun goes down." Alfrid pulled on a coat and followed him out the kitchen door. Danny was right on their heels.
"My parents only knew each other two weeks before they were married," Andrew said. "Pa spied this pretty girl in town, asked her father's permission to court her, my mother was agreeable and of an age to marry, so that was that. They raised a family, were good to their children and to each other. I'd say it worked out well."
"But your parents were young," Alfrid said. "Mrs. Kelly and I have reached middle age. We've both been married before."
"That should make it all the easier for you to settle into married life again, shouldn't it?"
M l suppose so," Alfrid said. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see if it works out."
Of course it's going to work out! Danny thought. It has to!
As Andrew swung up onto his horse, Alfrid said wryly, "It's just occurred to me that for a man who has never married, you are pretty free with your advice. Perhaps I'd take what you say more seriously if you were married yourself."
"Maybe Mr. MacNair needs Aunt Melba to talk to him," Danny offered. "And to Kath—Mrs. Banks, too."
Andrew laughed, but his face flushed red. "Is it that obvious?" he mumbled, either to Alfrid or to himself. Danny couldn't tell.
Alfrid put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "That's enough, Danny," he said. "Mr. MacNair's thoughts are his own, unless he decides to share them with—with someone else." His eyes twinkled as he looked at Andrew, who flushed again, wheeled his horse, and rode off toward St. Joe.
Danny hoped to keep it a secret that Ma was coming, but with Gussie to report the story to Wilmer, there was no chance.
"I've heard the good news, Danny," Miss Clark said to him as he arrived at school, stomping the snow from his boots and tugging off his gloves to blow on his cold fingers. "I'm delighted that you'll be reunited with your mother!"
"I think it's exciting!" Laura Lee giggled and tossed back her curls. "Coming all that way to marry a man she's never met! I never before heard of anybody doing that!"
"Then you ain't heard of Zeke Moffat," Wilmer said. "Zeke farms that place down by the junction, and two years ago he got hisself a mail-order bride."
"Ma's not a mail-order bride!" Danny yelled at Wilmer.
"Your foster pa writ a letter for her, didn't he?"
"It wasn't a letter! It was a telegram!"
"Which makes it entirely different," Miss Clark said quickly. "I'm going to ring the bell in two minutes. Hang up your coats and get to your desks, and no more dawdling."
Danny managed to elbow Wilmer as they crowded into the cloakroom, but to his surprise, Wilmer didn't react. He hung up his coat, then quietly said to Danny, "I'm real glad that you're gonna see your ma again."
"Thanks," Danny said. He choked up and tears burned his eyes, but Wilmer pretended not to notice.
There'd be three weeks to wait, close to four, and Danny wondered how he'd manage to live through them. Each time he thought he'd explode with impatience he'd say over and over to himself, Ma's coming. She's on her way. Ma will be here soon.
The train that brought Noreen Kelly to St. Joseph arrived ahead of schedule, so she was waiting on the platform when Danny, Peg, and Alfrid arrived. Danny saw Ma standing tall and stately, wearing a deep blue full-skirted coat and a small blue feathered hat which set off her hair, causing it to gleam like fire in the morning light.
He and Peg raced to their mother, flinging their arms around her, and she dropped to her knees, tightly hugging them both.
"My darlin' Peg!" Ma cried. "Danny! Oh, love, how you've grown!"
With the laughter and hugs and kisses and even a few tears of ha
ppiness, Danny was heedless of the broad-shouldered, dark-haired man standing next to Ma until
the man helped her to her feet, saying, "You have a fine family, Mrs. Kelly."
Danny quickly looked up. He knew the man. His name was John Murphy, and he owned the blacksmith shop next to the stables.
"Good day to you, Danny," John Murphy said, his words musical with the familiar brogue. He glanced at Ma and smiled. "It was my great fortune to become acquainted with your mother soon after I boarded the train in Hannibal."
"Mr. Murphy's from Ireland, too," Ma said as she dusted off her coat. "Before he came to St. Joseph to live, Mr. Murphy lived in a town not far from where I was born." She smiled, too, looking not at Danny but at Mr. Murphy.
Danny frantically looked around for Alfrid, who had hung back, obviously wanting to give Danny and Peg the chance to greet their mother without interruption. But this was no time to hang back. It was time for Ma to stop smiling at Mr. Murphy and meet Alfrid. Danny beckoned wildly, and Alfrid slowly walked forward to join them.
Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Murphy beat him to it. "Mrs. Kelly," he said with a slight bow, "may I present to you Mr. Alfrid Swenson."
"How do you do, Mrs. Kelly?" Alfrid said, so quietly he could barely be heard.
"Very well, Mr. Swenson. Thank you," Ma said firmly and held out her right hand, her left wrapped firmly around Peg's shoulders. Alfrid took it, and for just a moment both he and Ma silently studied each other's faces. Danny tried to read what they were thinking, but Alfrid seemed as solemn as ever, and Ma smiled, gently pulling her hand away.
"I thank you for taking such good care of Danny
and Peg. You and your wife ... You were both very kind."
Danny didn't like the way Ma was talking, as though this were all a part of the past. He edged close to Ma, his back to Mr. Murphy, and said, "Ma, you'll like the farm. It's near the river, and there's a woods and green hills. Maybe it's like Ireland. When you see it you'll know."
Ma bent to kiss his forehead. "Oh, Danny, the way you go on! It's so good to hear your voice again. I've missed you all so terribly much. I've been so lonely for you. I can't wait to see the others too—Mike and Frances and little Petey. Do you know that Megan has learned to read and write? She sent another letter only two weeks ago."
Peg burrowed into the skirt of Ma's long coat and clung tightly.
"I help Mr. Swenson," Danny continued. "He told me I'm as good as any farmhand. And Peg and I go to school. And—"
"And I've got a kitten named Whiskers!" Peg chimed in.
The station platform was empty except for their little family and Mr. Murphy. Danny shot Mr. Murphy a look of irritation, hoping he'd understand and go away.
Instead, Mr. Murphy said, "The air is cold, Mrs. Kelly. I suggest that we take you out of this chill."
"I'm sorry." Alfrid looked embarrassed. "I should have thought."
Danny scowled. Alfrid didn't need to apologize. Anyone could see that he was just being kind and patient. Why did Mr. Murphy have to poke his nose in where he wasn't wanted?
"I understand I'm to stay with a Mrs. Banks," Ma said, her left arm still pressing Peg tightly to her side. "I would like to meet this kind lady."
"Of course," Alfrid said, clumsily picking up Ma's satchel. "You must be tired from the trip. I'm sure you'd like to rest." For some reason Alfrid's face flushed a deep red.
Ma got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I'm not the least bit tired, Mr. Swenson. I have a strong constitution. I believe that Danny described me to you as Strong as a whole team of horses.'" She laughed, and Mr. Murphy laughed, too, but Alfrid looked even more solemn.
"The buggy is hitched by the big oak tree," Alfrid said. He reached for Ma's elbow, but Ma had Danny in one hand and Peg in the other and was already striding toward the buggy.
Danny couldn't believe that Mr. Murphy didn't have enough sense to leave. He actually walked with Alfrid to the buggy and looked up at Ma. "Since you'll be visiting in town for a while with Katherine Banks, I'll be sure to be seeing you now and then," he said. He tipped his hat, adding, "A pleasant good day to one and all."
Alfrid climbed into the buggy and flicked the reins. "{Catherine's house is high on the hill with a good view of the river," he said. "She asked me to take your things there and then—if you were agreeable—to bring you to the store to meet her."
"Most of the time I have a pleasant nature and do try hard to be agreeable," Ma teased.
Alfrid's face flushed again. "I didn't mean ... Perhaps I chose the wrong words."
Ma laughed again. "I know what you meant, Mr. Swenson. I was trying to ease the strain with a little humor."
Alfrid looked at Ma in bewilderment. "I don't understand."
"To make our meeting less difficult for both of us," Ma said.
Alfrid nodded "I see."
"You're a kind man, Mr. Swenson," Ma said. U I am grateful to you for your loan to help pay for my train fare to St. Joseph. The family that employed me gave me a parting gift of a coat, which had belonged to one of their daughters, my satchel, and some money. I'll turn the full amount over to you. It is almost enough to pay you back."
"But I—I do not expect the money to be repaid," Alfrid stammered.
"Nevertheless, it will be repaid. I greatly appreciate your kindness, but I'm an independent woman, and I'll not feel right owing you a single cent." Ma beamed and hugged Peg and Danny to her again. "Now tell me, Mr. Swenson, have these two rapscallions given you a great deal of trouble?"
Alfrid's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, no!" he insisted. "They've been very good children."
Peg giggled, and Alfrid looked confused. "I see. It was another joke." He turned his attention to the horses. The road curved upward, and the pace of the buggy slowed as the team strained against the slope. Through the trees Danny caught glimpses of the Missouri River, silver in the thin sunlight.
"There's much we need to learn about each other, Mr. Swenson," Ma said gently.
"I'll drive you out to the farm after you've met Mrs. Banks," Alfrid said. "I'll show you around the property and give you a list of my assets. The farm has provided a steady income, although there is little actual cash because most of the profit has been invested in more cattle, more land, and larger crops."
Ma reached over and rested her gloved fingertips on his arm. "You are a kind man, and generous to want to share all this with me. But it is you I want to learn about,
not your property. Do you like to read books? To tell stories? Do you like to dance?"
Alfrid looked at Ma warily, as though suspecting another joke. 'There have been dances at the church," he said seriously, "but I never learned to dance. There was never time."
"How well I know," Ma said. "As a girl I loved to dance, but there was always so much work to be done. It's been a long, long time since Fve had the chance to go to a dance." She grinned. "At the place where I worked, the houseman played the fiddle. Sometimes, when the master and mistress were away, the rest of us would gather in the kitchen, and he'd play a jig that could set boots to dancing on their own. The cook and I would pick up our skirts and away we'd go through the old steps, with the others laughing and clapping. Oh, it was grand fim!"
Danny laughed as he pictured it. It didn't hurt so much to imagine that part of Ma's life, now that she was here in St. Joseph.
Alfrid pulled the horses to a stop in front of a white clapboard house. He jumped down and hitched them to the post at the side of the road, then held up a hand to help Ma from the buggy.
As Ma stepped to the ground, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The air here is clean, as it was in Ireland. Not quite the same, but close to it, and not a bit like New York."
She led the way to {Catherine's front door. "Katherine said to tell you that your room will be the second bedroom on the right," Alfrid said.
Ma took the satchel from his hands. "I'll wash my face and hands," she said, "and be with you soon."
"I want to go
with you!" Peg said, and ran after her mother.
Danny followed Alfrid back to the buggy and sat beside him on the front seat. Alfrid didn't speak. Danny couldn't stand it, and finally he blurted out, "Well? Wasn't I right about Ma?"
"She's an exceptionally beautiful woman," Alfrid said.
Danny shrugged. "I guess," he said, "but I wasn't thinking about that. I meant the rest of it."
Alfrid leaned back and patted Danny's shoulder. "I'm sure she's everything you said she was. Even more. Your mother's a very—urn—powerful woman."
Powerful? Was that good or bad? Just what did Alfrid mean? Danny sneaked a look at Alfrid, but it was impossible to read his face.
At the farm Peg wouldn't leave her mother's side, even though Danny pulled her away, whispering into her ear, "Leave Ma and Alfrid be."
"No!" Peg said stubbornly. "I want to stay with Ma."
"Then at least keep quiet and let Ma and Alfrid talk to each other," Danny insisted.
Peg simply jerked out of his grasp and ran to hang onto Ma's hand.
Danny went back to the house. As he walked into the kitchen, Melba was saying to Gussie, "She's pleasant enough, I guess, but hardly the type I'd expect Alfrid to like."
"Why shouldn't he like her?" Gussie asked. "I do. She's as friendly as down home, and a beauty."
Melba carried a tray into the dining room. "I'd hardly say that. She's a little thin for most men's tastes, I would think."
96
Gussie suddenly spotted Danny. "Well, Danny," she said, "I like your Ma."
"Thanks," Danny answered.
Melba returned to the kitchen, her cheeks pink with embarrassment, the empty tray at her side. She didn't acknowledge Danny as she began loading the tray again with platters of sliced bread and meats. "Gussie, we need another place at the table," Melba said. "You've set it one short."
Gussie counted on her fingers, then shook her head. "There's a place for everybody."
"I've asked Ennie Pratka to join us for dinner," Gussie said.
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