“Belle, dear, where are T.J. and Hannah?” Meg asked.
“They’re not far. They went out when it began to snow a few minutes ago.” Belle yelled, “T.J., Hannah, come quickly, your Auntie Meg is here.”
Two little waifs stuck their heads out from behind the barn.
“Come here,” Belle called. There wasn’t a clean spot on their bodies. They came hesitantly. “Just look at you,” Belle said to them. Then to Meg, “These aren’t my children. My children are all cleaned up waiting to greet you. They have to be here someplace.” Belle peered around.
“It's us, Ma," T.J. said.
“It’s really us,” Hannah said.
“There wasn’t enough snow, so we made mud-balls,” T.J. said with pride as he held up a fist of mud.
"And you threw them at each other.” Belle worked hard at keeping a straight face. She had them in tow and dumped them into the watering trough where she doused them as they gasped for breath, squealing. She jostled them up and down as they giggled and shrieked. It was a cold day but it didn’t stop Belle. Then she set them back on their feet and when they got to the door of the house, she stripped their clothes.
“Off ye go, you scallywags,” she said as she pushed them toward the tub room. Belle excused herself after seating Meg and Alex in the parlor. It wasn’t long before she came back with two little children so polished they looked like new.
Meg knelt, her arms encircling them as she pulled them close. “You little angels,” Meg said as she kissed them.
“I have another word for them right now,” Belle said.
“We’re sorry, Ma,” T.J. said.
“Not as sorry as you’ll be when you get no pie for dessert,” Belle said.
“Just look at your beautiful shoes, Hannah,” Meg said in an obvious effort to change the subject.
“They’re my Sunday shoes,” Hannah said in a tiny, shy voice.
“My, but they are pretty. I wish I had shoes like yours.”
Hannah’s blue eyes widened as she looked down at Meg’s big feet. “You can wear my shoes when you grow little, Auntie Meg,” she said.
As they sat at the supper table, Alex told Belle about himself. He came from Scotland first to Canada and then moved down into Montana when he was very young, not quite thirteen. He worked for sheep herders and cattlemen and managed over time to acquire a few sheep and then a few more and now he had one of the largest operations in Northern Montana. At last count, he had over four thousand and the range land to accommodate them. His father had run sheep on the Isle of Skye; so, he came into it naturally.
“I’m going to buy some breeding stock from a fellow named Joe Aldecoa while we’re down here. I talked to him yesterday, down in Boise."
“Joe comes through the ranch with his flock every year,” Belle said. “He’s become a friend.”
“He’s got to be wealthy but ye’d never know, the way he lives.”
Belle studied Alex as he talked. It was a good face: grey-green Scottish eyes, unmanageable hair, a generous nose, and a cleft chin.
She didn’t realize she was being so obvious until Alex said, “Well, do I pass the test?”
‘‘Aye, of course ye do,” Belle said, patting his outstretched hand.
After Belle had put the children to bed and Alex said goodnight, Belle led Meg into the parlor where they sat up most of the night.
“Little Nan is the only one still in school,” Meg began. “Father has finished his studies and applied for a professorship at St. Andrews and has only to pass his orals. It’s his lifelong dream to teach there, Belle.”
“I remember that. It’s my dream to send Tommy there to be educated. He could not have a better teacher.”
“Ian wed a month ago to a girl he met in France. Her name is Willamette. You would love her. She has jet-black hair, ivory skin, and a humor that won’t quit. I’ve had to brush up on my French to catch it all. Ian is ecstatic.
“Norman is working in Edinburgh and going to the university there and is talking about coming to America sometime.”
“The girls?” Belle asked.
“They are all grown up, except for Nan. They send their love. It’s still hard to find work. Tina and Mary are taking over Father’s tailoring business and will be staying there at home with little Nan. She’s twelve now, and needs to be with women.” Meg’s excitement grew. “Oh, and I brought me wedding gown to show you. Tina and Mary helped me with it and it’s covered with Flemish lace that Ian brought home from the war."
Meg opened up a box, unfolded her gown and held it in front of her. It was snowy-white voile trimmed with hand-loomed lace and a cloche with white velvet roses and tulle. Meg held the gown in front of her and plopped the cloche on her head at an odd angle.
“Meg, ye’ll be a vision of loveliness. I wish I could be there to hear ye take your vows.”
“More than anything, Belle, I wish ye could be there, too,” Meg said as she tucked the gown back into its box.
“Tell me everything, Belle. There’s so many gaps, things ye couldn’t put in your letters. Start at the beginning and don’t leave out a thing.”
It felt good reliving her years in America for Meg. Meg, who cried, who rolled on the floor laughing and who listened and gave Belle the audience she needed. Not once in the long night was there a moment Meg seemed to tire of hearing Belle’s incredible tale and Belle was amazed at the story she had to tell.
“Belle, it’s your sense of humor that gets ye through. Ye dwell on the funny things and not the rest. Ye always were the spark in the family. What a gift ye have.”
Belle lowered her voice. “Now tell me, Meg. Is it good with Alex? Are ye happy? And what’s this about problems to work out?"
Meg hesitated. "Alex didn’t tell me everything in his letters.”
“Hmm?"
“About his two papooses.” Meg gave Belle a long-suffering look. “He had an Indian wife. He lived with her for three years and they had two little girls. Soon after the birth of Dove Song, she disappeared. Only God knows where she went. Alex finally found her tribe in the mountains but if she was there, her people wouldn’t tell him. She had complained to him about never feeling at home in his ranch house. It was too permanent to suit her; she had been a nomad all her life, the floors separated her from the feel of the earth. Alex didn’t take her seriously--maybe he should have.
“She left him with the brand new baby and a toddler, so I have a ready-made family. They don’t like me, Belle, and I don’t want to be their mother. They’re nasty little savages.” Meg’s eyes flooded.
“Are you saying Alex didn’t tell you about them before you left Scotland?”
Meg shook her head. “He was afraid I wouldn’t come if I knew.”
“Would you have?”
“I don’t know. I guess the point is, he wasn’t honest with me.” Meg was crying again.
“How old are they?”
“Three and four. Not a whole lot younger than T.J. and Hannah."
“Meg, what about the man? Is all of that all right?”
“Yes. The rest is fine. I learned to care for Alex through his letters. He’s a kind and loving man.”
“Then accept it for what it is. A man who was clumsy about telling you what he should have. It’s hard sometimes to put things in a letter. I know, first-hand. I should have warned the Doigs before I descended on them sticking out to here.” Belle held her cupped hands in front of her stomach. “But I couldn’t put it on paper.”
“But how can I ignore his not being honest?”
“Just do it.”
“I never thought I’d be taking your advice, Belle. You’re so impetuous.”
“Well, if ye’d not leave him over this, why drive a wedge of distrust between ye? Give the man a chance. You took a gamble when you decided to be a mail-order bride and now I think it’s up to you to try to make the best of it. It’s not a perfect world, Meg.”
“You’re not having to do about children from a different cult
ure, Belle. What do ye know? Ye couldn’t possibly understand.” Meg covered her face with her hands. “It’s frightful.”
“Of course it is. And you’re right, but I had the seed of a violent, hateful man planted in my belly. I had to live with that. If I let myself worry about what Tommy could become, I’d go daft. Compared to that, raising two little Indian waifs would be a walk in the park.”
Meg looked startled and then defeated by Belle’s remarks. Belle could see that she didn’t have the tenacity Belle had always given her credit for. Meg walked from the parlor without so much as saying goodnight, leaving Belle wishing she’d not spoken so harshly. Her dear sister hadn’t been in the house twelve hours and she had already managed to upset her. “When am I ever going to learn to keep my mouth shut?” she mumbled.
Belle and Alex were drinking coffee in the kitchen at daybreak. Their voices low, everyone else was still sleeping. Belle was dying to ask Alex about the Indian babies but it was none of her business.
“Did Meg tell you about my children?” Alex’s eyes sought Belle’s.
“She did.” Belle was relieved. He had opened the door to talk about it. Now she’d see if she could make him sorry he came, too, she chided herself
“I should have told her,” he went on. “If they gave free train tickets for stupidity, I could go to New York and back. They’re sweet children but they miss their ma. I thought Meg could step right in and everyone would be happy, but it hasn’t worked out that way. I don’t think she likes them any better than they do her. It’s a screaming match most of the time. I really meant to tell her, I just couldn’t find the words. Would ye talk to her for me, Belle?”
Belle grimaced. “I’ve already done that and made a blinking mess of it. Meg left me last night in tears. I’m so sorry.”
“She wants me to put them in a foundling home. I cannot do that to me own flesh and blood.”
“Give her time. Meg will work through it.” Belle’s hand rested on Alex’s shoulder.
“And what if I don’t?” Meg stood in the doorway, her lips drawn thin, her eyes desolate.
“Meg, I’m sorry. Ye must have thought me unfeeling last night. What you do comes under the heading of none of my business. I only wanted to help.”
"Alex. I can’t do it. I’ve spent my life taking care of me sisters and brothers. I yearn for a family of me own, not somebody else’s. It’s not fair."
“I won’t put them in a foundling home, Meg. That’s final. I’m going down to Boise this morning. I’ll leave ye here. Ye better give some thought of what you want to do. I’ll be going back to Montana tomorrow, with or without ye.” His jaw jutted forward; there was no room for argument.
Belle took a shawl off the coat tree and wrapped it around her shoulders as she walked out to the field where the Canada geese were beginning to congregate. She’d give Meg and Alex the privacy to hash things out.
The geese flew so high, they were black ink spots against a parchment sky. They came in formation, honking like a rusty gate, playing follow the leader so evenly spaced, then bunching to bank for a turn, losing altitude, then back into a lopsided “v.” Belle wished them down out of the sky. They came with such force, such grace it took her breath away. They came because a mystic voice told them of the alfalfa and sunflower seeds hundreds of feet below. Belle liked to think they came because she wanted them to be there. How she admired their strength, their aristocratic beauty, the way they paired up for life, but more than anything, their ability to fly hundreds of miles so high in the sky. “Oh, to fly with the wild geese,” she whispered.
Meg is lucky. She has a choice. She could stay here if it came to that. Meg had Belle; Belle had no one to turn to as she faced life’s hurdles. As much as she loved Meg, she wondered if the two of them could get along in the same house. The Chinese sign for trouble is two women under one roof. Sharing her home with her sister wouldn’t work for long. She couldn’t gracefully step back into the role of little sister and with the two of them together, that was bound to happen.
Belle pitched some hay for the horses as she thought about how Meg would have to, sooner or later, face up to life.
Finally, Alex came out of the house and harnessed up his buggy. She opened the gate for him.
“I thank ye for your hospitality. I’m not faulting Meg. I’ve myself to blame.” His smile was weak, his eyes troubled.
“Things will work out.” Belle took his hand.
His strong chin jutted forward; his lower lip rolled out. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” The buggy moved without any more adieu. Alex was gone. Belle watched him disappear, remembering the premonition she had when Meg wrote about becoming a mail-order bride. If she’d told Meg about her feelings, would she have listened? No.
At home, in Scotland, Meg had played the tune and Belle danced to it, sometimes mighty fast. It was always like that. It would be a challenge if Meg stayed.
Meg was standing at the kitchen window when Belle went back into the house. “You’re so strong, Belle. You make everything work. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s not like that. Once I left home, I didn’t have any choice.”
“What if I can’t make those little savages like me?”
“Ye know ye can, but it has to come from your heart. For starters, stop calling them savages; they have Alex’s blood in them too.”
“How did ye get so wise? You make me feel like a thoughtless child.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Meg. This is a big decision and you have to consider what it means. But like our brother Tommy used to say, you’re a Mackay, and don’t be forgetting it. Ye can do it, if that’s where your heart is taking ye.”
“I’m glad I came, Belle. I really needed your help. I’d like to walk up in that glen out yonder and find an agreeable rock to sit on. I need to think. Alex will be back tomorrow and I’ll have to give him an answer. “
Belle read a book of fairy tales to the children as they sat on the front porch, the three of them stuffed in the rocking chair. The October sun bathed the honey-colored fields in long, gentle swaths of light. Yellows and rusts of October brushed over the greens of August. The air chilled, as a gaggle of geese shadowed the porch soaring up from the field and into the sky. The light faded before Meg came back.
“The man is worth it, Belle,” Meg said. "I’m going to do it. I feel such a warmth in my heart for him. It’s a feeling that might never come again.”
“Then, you’re doing it for the right reason.” Belle hugged her.
Meg was at the gate when Alex drove into the ranch. Belle watched from the window as Alex took Meg in his arms. They talked for a long time and their steps were light as they came up the path to the house.
“Belle. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us. How can I thank you?” Alex asked.
She thought about Charley Hemphill and the last thing he’d said to her. It seemed to fit this situation. “We all belong to the same club, Alex. Help someone else along the way. That’s all I can ask.”
Belle stood in the barnyard as Alex and Meg drove away. Meg would make a go of it. She had to.
Chapter Seventeen
Belle lazed in her bed on a Sunday morning, thinking about how nice it would be just to lie there. The fragrance of hyacinths blooming under her bedroom window lofted on the cool air. A satiny breeze billowed the glass curtain as sunlight and shadow played across the hand-quilted sham on her bed. There hadn’t been many spring mornings in the last few years that she allowed herself such idleness. How quickly the years had passed. It was like a blink of the eye and her babies were half-grown. T.J. was in the fourth grade, Hannah the third. Where had the time gone? Underneath Hannah’s shy grace were layers of surprises. She was a lithe little dancer and her voice, sweet as a song bird. Her delicate clear tone brought tears to Belle’s eyes. Hannah was bashful around strangers, but that was all right when you’re only nine and a country girl.
T.J. had the world by the tail. His wry sense of humor an
d his easy way reminded Belle of her brother Tommy. He watched with great interest the men building a new road across the river and he decided he wanted to be an engineer when he grew up. Then, of course, Hannah wanted to be an engineer, too.
She crossed her arms and hugged her shoulders. It hadn’t been easy but holding onto the ranch had been the right thing to do. If it hadn’t been for Beufer, she wasn’t sure how she would have managed. She was proud of the way he had developed from a lazy kid to a responsible adult and taken over her cattle operation almost completely. It had been so clever, the way he and his brothers had figured out how to rig a cable across the river. Of course, once you got to the middle, you had to go hand-over-hand to pull your weight back up to the other side, and that took muscle. Beufer was smart, not slow like the canyon folk used to think. Now he had a chance to work down in Boise in a foundry and he was excited about it. Of course, it meant selling their ranch, moving away and leaving Belle. His brothers were hesitant. She encouraged them--it was their chance for a better life. And Belle was back to the age-old problem. She’d have to find someone to help with the cattle. T.J. thought he could handle it but that would be putting too much on him and his studies would suffer. He did so much to help around the ranch already.
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