Montana Grit_Bear Grass Springs_Book Two

by Ramona Flightner

As the door opened, the raucous dinner conversation halted, all eyes turned toward the intruders. After a moment’s shocked silence, Cailean leaped up, grasping Alistair in a hug. He let him go as he saw Leticia. “Leticia, what a wonderful surprise,” he said, pulling her close.

  Hortence jumped down from her chair, pushing her way through the adults until she threw herself against her mother’s skirts. “Mama,” she cried.

  Leticia fell to her knees, holding her daughter close. “My little love,” she whispered in her daughter’s ear. “I’m home.”

  Hortence clung to her like a bur as her mother attempted to stand. Leticia shared a look with Alistair and gave in, sitting on the floor, holding Hortence in her lap. “I’m not leaving ever again, my darling. Not without you.”

  Her daughter pushed away, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Did you make that bad man go away?”

  Leticia smiled as she swiped at her daughter’s tears. “Yes, I did. With your papa’s and Mr. Clark’s help. The bad man’s gone forever.”

  Hortence looked at Alistair and glared. “Are you going to be my papa?”

  Alistair smiled, kneeling next to Leticia. He ran a hand over Hortence’s braids before reaching down and picking her up. He held her on one of his hips, allowing their gazes to be even. “Aye, I want to be yer papa.” He cast a quick glance at his siblings, uncustomarily quiet as they allowed Hortence to have her reunion with them. “I’m married to yer mother. I’d be honored to be yer father.”

  Hortence let out a small sob, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him tight. “Yes, please,” she sobbed.

  “Ah, my Little Bug, dinna cry so,” he crooned to her, and she soon calmed in his arms. He glanced up to meet the stares of his siblings and Annabelle. “We’re home.”

  Ewan laughed. “We can see that. What took ye so long?” He nodded to Hortence who now rested in Alistair’s arms. “She was beginning to fret.”

  “We had a few … legal concerns to clear up.” Alistair shared a long stare, first with Cailean and then with Ewan. “Warren was a tremendous help. I dinna ken who I would have found to trust in Helena.”

  Annabelle moved to Leticia and helped her stand before pulling her into a tight hug. “Are you truly married?” she asked as she backed away to stare at both of them.

  Leticia nodded, unable to hide her contented smile. “He convinced me that we should wed before returning to town.”

  Cailean motioned for them to join them at the table while Annabelle and Sorcha pulled out plates and silverware for them. Soon they were all seated together, eating dinner. “’Tis how it always should have been, eating dinner as family.” His eyes glowed as his brother gripped Leticia’s hand.

  Hortence remained curled into her mother’s side, and she picked at her food. “Mrs. Jameson’ll be as mad as a wet cat. That’s what Mr. T says.”

  Leticia couldn’t stifle her groan. “That woman was born angry.” She ran a soothing hand over her daughter’s head. “I wouldn’t worry about her. We’ll be fine.”

  Sorcha spoke at last. “I wouldna move into yer home tonight. Stay here. Ye dinna want to alert the townsfolk of yer return and ruin yer first night back with unwanted visitors.” She grimaced. “An’ I fear Hortence is correct. Mrs. Jameson will be worse than a cornered bear. She still believes ye are to marry her daughter.”

  “Never mind that her daughter has given no indication of her wish to wed you in recent days,” Annabelle said with a wry lift of her eyebrow.

  Ewan choked and Sorcha giggled. Alistair looked at his siblings. “What’s occurred?”

  “Seems that Helen is a fickle lass,” Sorcha said as she fought her laughter. “She’s already makin’ eyes at Ewan.”

  Alistair shared a chagrined smile with Ewan. “I fear Mrs. Jameson willna give up on me so easily. I should have put an end to such speculation afore I left.” He looked at Leticia. “But I was too eager to follow ye. I did no' want to waste time arguin’ with that woman.” He faced his siblings. “What has happened since we’ve been away?”

  Cailean sobered a moment. “Jack died nearly a week ago. John’s been with us since then.” His jaw tightened a moment. “Barclay wouldn’t even wait until the funeral before he evicted John.”

  Alistair frowned. “And the business?”

  “Steady. We are the only livery in town, and those with any sense know John is talented with horses. They mutter about paying the same prices when he cares for them as when you do, but I insist that those are livery rates and not dependent on who does the work.”

  Alistair bit back a growl. “Good. Bluidy fools,” he muttered. After a moment, he looked around the table. “What else occurred while we were away?”

  Sorcha laughed. “What happens in this town? Little of interest and little to be commented on.”

  “Except a new store has opened. Another general store to compete with Tobias.” Annabelle could not hide the delight from her eyes.

  Alistair chuckled. “I bet he’s none pleased.”

  “Madder than a hornet’s nest, but he’s dropping his prices or risk losing all his customers. Few would swear loyalty to such a cantankerous man.” Annabelle smiled at her family. “And, yes, I know there’s no need to gloat, Cailean.”

  “She’s taking an inordinate amount of pleasure at the disruption the new store owner has wrought.” Cailean smiled and shook his head at his wife.

  Ewan tapped at his plate with the tines of his fork. “A newspaper reporter has been hired and is headed this way. A Mr. J. P. McMahon. He’s supposed to be a hard-nosed Eastern reporter. We’ll have to see what scandals he digs up.”

  Cailean speared him with an intense stare. “I’ll remain hopeful the MacKinnons are spared such infamy.”

  Ewan shrugged. “I’ve done little to cause you concern, Cail.” His easygoing smile failed to soothe Cailean’s tension.

  Annabelle gripped Cailean’s hand and looked at everyone in turn. “There is family news. We are to be fortunate, in the new year.” When they gaped at her with blank stares, she flushed. “You will all soon be aunts and uncles again, and Hortence will have a cousin.” She flushed as Ewan hooted, and Alistair grinned. Sorcha jumped up to hug her, and Leticia beamed at her.

  “Can I name the baby?” Hortence asked, looking around.

  Cailean laughed. “No, wee Hortence. That’s for Belle and me to do. But you will have a little cousin to play with.”

  “But when will she arrive?” she asked.

  Annabelle flushed. “Not until January or early February. And your cousin may be a little boy.”

  Hortence shook her head. “Then why are you celebrating now? Seems you’d wait until the baby arrived. Did the stork get lost?” She looked at her family as they burst out laughing at her question.

  Cailean ran a hand over her braids. “I fear he must have, little one. But, soon enough, you’ll meet your cousin.”

  Hortence looked at everyone and frowned as she shook her head. “I’d think you’d have the baby arrive some other way. Would be faster.” She glanced around the table at her aunts and uncles who tried not to laugh. She hugged her mother once before she jumped down from her chair to go to the parlor to play.

  Annabelle rose to carry the dishes to the sink. She was joined by Leticia and Sorcha, and they huddled around the sink, chatting.

  Alistair watched the women as they laughed and spoke while working. “How have things been?” he asked Cailean.

  “It’s always a challenge when you aren’t here.” He smiled wryly at his brother. “The horses miss you. They don’t take to my crooning the way they do to yours.”

  Ewan snickered. “’Tis because ye’re tone deaf.” He laughed as Cailean threw his napkin at him. “Not much has occurred. There’s been rampant speculation at the saloons about what was occurin’ in Helena.”

  Alistair sighed. “What were the most popular bets?”

  Ewan scratched at his head as he ticked them off on his fingers. “That ye’d kill the husband in a duel
and be sent to jail. That ye’d bed her but not wed her. That ye’d not find her.”

  “Few believed you’d truly wed her,” Cailean said. “Not after the last fiasco of a wedding ceremony. Although some hoped you would.”

  Alistair frowned. “Why?”

  His eldest brother rolled his eyes. “They want the celebration that was denied them when the first wedding ceremony was interrupted.”

  “An’ the chance to eat Annabelle’s cake without havin’ to pay for it,” Ewan said.

  Alistair relaxed into his chair. He smiled at Leticia as she served him a cup of coffee. “I never realized the town was filled with fools until all this happened.”

  “Aye, ye did. Ye just did no’ do anything that led ye to care.” Ewan slurped down a few sips of coffee, rose, slapped Alistair on the back, and headed to the door. “Glad ye’re home.”

  Cailean frowned as his youngest brother headed out the front door. “He thinks that his gambling poses no threat to the family now because Leticia’s former husband is no longer here.”

  “He’ll learn soon enough it’s a danger to himself and to all of us. But only he can learn that lesson,” Alistair said around a sip of coffee.

  That evening he lay in his bed in his old room at his brother’s house, waiting for Leticia to arrive. She was tucking Hortence in for the night. When the door creaked open, he roused himself from a half-dozing state. “Come to bed, love.”

  She slipped out of her clothes, washed, and donned her nightgown. He held the bed covers up for her, and she cuddled next to him.

  His contented sigh escaped. “I love holdin’ ye,” he murmured. “Why a nightgown?”

  She burrowed farther into his embrace. “I’ll have to wear a nightgown from now on. If Hortence needs me, I can’t run to her with nothing on.”

  Alistair chuckled. “No, ye couldna.” He groaned. “Does this mean I must wear my underclothes to bed?”

  She propped herself up on her elbow to look down at him. Her fingers traced the curve of his lips as he teased her. “Only if you want to.”

  His loving stare met hers. “I want to be a good papa. Of course I will.” He coaxed her down to rest beside him. “Let me hold my wife.” His arms closed around her as she fitted her back to his front. “How is wee Hortence?”

  “Delighted to have a sleepover in her aunt Sorcha’s room. I fear they won’t sleep much tonight. When I left, Sorcha was teaching her how to spin yarn.” Leticia traced a hand over the arm curled around her waist. “I think Hortence forgives me for leaving her.”

  “Of course she does. Because ye came back.” Alistair kissed the top of her head. “Ye’ve raised a wonderful girl.”

  She sniffled. “Thank you, Alistair. Even after you came to Helena and insisted I leave him, I didn’t allow myself to imagine my reunion with Hortence. I feared something would happen, and it would never come true.” She rolled until she hugged him. “Thank you.”

  “We all love wee Hortence,” Alistair rasped. “We’d no’ allow anything to happen to her.”

  She shook her head. “Thank you for ensuring she did not live with the self-doubt of why her mother didn’t love her enough to stay.” She kissed his chest.

  “Aye, an’ now she has two parents who love her.” He ran a hand over her back. “Does she understand that the man she calls ‘the bad man’ was her father?”

  Leticia shook her head. “No. I never told her. He never truly planned on claiming her so I didn’t see the point.”

  Alistair pulled her close. “It doesna matter now. She has us and aunts and uncles. She’ll never worry if she is loved.” He held Leticia close as a few of her tears leaked onto his chest. “Rest, my love. For tomorrow we must face the townsfolk.” He waited until she had slipped into sleep before he relaxed and followed her into slumber.

  Chapter 17

  The following morning, Alistair set aside his pitchfork as the livery door burst open. He walked down the aisle to shut the door behind the tiny woman who marched inside. As they walked down the center of the livery, they moved from patches of sunlight to shadow. He stopped in the shadows, while the woman remained in the sun, her expression readily visible.

  “You’ve played my daughter false, and I will see you pay!” Mrs. Jameson screeched. Her reddened cheeks shone with a thin layer of perspiration. “I’ve just learned from the stationmaster that you were seen last night, escorting that doxy from the train station.”

  Alistair fought anger as the tic in his jaw increased. “There was never any agreement between Helen and me, ye daft woman.”

  “You were seen in the woods. Any kind of compromising activity could have occurred.” She stood with her bosom out and her hands on her hips as she dared him to defy her.

  “Ask yer daughter. Nothing happened.”

  “She has made no such denial.”

  “An’ no such accusation!” Alistair roared.

  “If you do not do the decent thing and marry my daughter, you will live with the infamy in this town as a defiler, a … a debaucher of innocents.” She glared triumphantly at him as she waited with expectant hope that he would act as she wished.

  Alistair took a deep breath and pinched his nose. “I canna marry her, Mrs. Jameson.”

  “Don’t give me that hogwash about love and respect. I’ve heard enough of that from Helen these past few weeks.” She tapped Alistair on his chest. “Plain and simple, you and my daughter would suit.”

  He chuckled. “Ye mean it would suit you. Ye want me as yer son-in-law, not for what I would provide yer daughter but what ye hope to gain from me.”

  “How dare you believe me so mercenary.”

  Alistair’s amused expression transformed into a glower. “Were ye no’ the one determined to defame and destroy Leticia, even to the point of giving her ex-husband money to help him leave town with her? Were ye no’ the one willing to bankrupt me in your vendetta against Leticia? Were ye no’ the woman with no regard for wee Hortence, ripped from her mother’s side?” He glared at Mrs. Jameson. “Mercenary isn’t a harsh-enough word for a woman like you.”

  Mrs. Jameson lifted her chin higher, no sign of contrition in her countenance. “A mother must do what she has to so as to ensure her children are well cared for.”

  “A mother should instill honor and loyalty and justice. Somethin’ ye fail, daily, to do.”

  “Enough with your attempts to delay your marriage to my daughter.” Her jaws snapped shut. “I want the announcement made by tomorrow, and I expect you to be wed by September.”

  Alistair cleared his throat and half smiled, his eyes lit with wicked mischief. “Well, that would pose a problem for yer daughter. I can only have one wife at a time.” He waited a moment as she continued to glare at him. “My wife, Leticia, would object. As would I.”

  Mrs. Jameson gasped and nearly fell over due to her shock and tightly bound corset. “You can’t have married that lying harlot! Not after all I did …” She broke off, paling as she belatedly saw the air of contentment around him.

  “I expect ye to speak about my wife with more respect from now on. And I married her in Helena.” His smile bloomed. “We plan to hold a reception here in a week or so.”

  “It’s an abomination!” she sputtered.

  He leaned forward, his face inches from hers as he met her startled gaze. “Dinna test me, Mrs. Jameson. Word is spreading as we speak about the role ye played in Leticia’s misery. Dinna make it worse for yerself.”

  Leticia walked through town, one arm slung through Alistair’s elbow, the other gripping Hortence’s hand. She raised her chin as she met the curious gazes of those they passed. Blatant animosity was soon well concealed as few desired to anger Alistair. Leticia smiled at those who moved out of their way, allowing them to walk down the boardwalk with little impediment.

  When they turned down a small street toward their new home, she heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s over,” she muttered.

  “’Tis only beginning. Ye braved that walk, bu
t ye must brave it many more times afore ye’ll feel comfortable,” Alistair murmured. They arrived at their house, and he extracted the key. He ushered Leticia and Hortence in before him and hung his hat on a peg by the front door. “Home.”

  She smiled at him at his whispered word. “Yes, home.” She held out a hand for Hortence. “Come, darling. Let me show you to your room.” She led her upstairs to a square-shaped room. On top of the bed was a small knitted throw blanket, in varying shades of red. “Look what your aunt Sorcha made for you.”

  Hortence traced the soft wool with her fingers and smiled with wonder at her mother. “It’s beautiful but why red, Mama?”

  Leticia sat on the bed and draped one arm over her daughter’s shoulders. “She wanted colors that matched the beauty of your hair.”

  Hortence’s hand immediately went to her hair, and she shook her head. “It’s ugly. A ’bomnation.”

  Leticia frowned. “Who told you that the color of your hair was an abomination?” When Hortence shrugged, Leticia asked, “One of the children you know from school?”

  “Yes. He repeated what he was told after church when my aunts and uncles chatted and I played with the other kids,” Hortence mumbled, looking at her feet.

  “Well, I fear your aunt heard of the ridiculous mutterings being repeated by those who are too young to know better.” She lifted her daughter’s head with two fingers under her chin. “Your aunt wants you to realize how beautiful you are. Your hair is beautiful too. Soon those in this town will be jealous that you are so blessed.”

  “I have red hair, Mama. It’s the work of the devil.”

  Leticia clamped her jaw shut a moment rather than give voice to her anger. “It is not.” She traced her daughter’s cheek.

  “You didn’t leave me because you worried I was evil?” Hortence whispered.

  Leticia groaned and pulled her onto her lap. “No, my darling, no. You are wonderful and brave and kind. You are the furthest from evil as anyone could be.” She hugged her close. “This is advice for both of us, my most precious daughter. We must each ignore the horrible, mean, spiteful words said by those who are jealous of us or who wish us ill.” She swiped at her daughter’s tears. “We are brave, strong, and honorable. We have a family who loves us. We will never be alone or abandoned again. I promise you.”