by Heather Gray
Peering from one man to the other, Mary considered her options. Mr. O'Keefe appeared sincere. Mr. Wilkes looked hopeful. Before she could say anything, the latter spoke, "I know you don't like to accept help, but Bert's a good man, and he'll do right by you." His eyebrows inched up in a pucker as he added, "It's my fault he thought he was coming to an established dairy farm. I should have explained better in my letter."
Mary took in both men, old enough to be retired and letting their kids and grandkids take care of them, yet stubborn enough to continue living life rather than letting it pass by. She held her hand out to Mr. O'Keefe and said, "I appreciate your help, and I think we understand each other. My family needs this to work. If this fails, we could lose everything, and I can't let that happen. We are teachable. When we do something wrong with the cows, tell us. If we're doing something right, though, you need to tell us that, too. Don't speak down to us or treat us like we're ignorant. We want every ounce of knowledge you can impart on us while you're here, but I won't cotton to anyone treating my brothers and sisters badly. You will have five shadows on this farm. Every single one of us needs to learn everything we can."
Mr. O'Keefe gave her a firm handshake then said, "Well, let's get to it, then. Introduce me to your farmhands."
Mary got ready to call for her brothers and sisters but realized they were all standing in a row a few feet behind her. Tilting her head toward Mr. O'Keefe, she said, "Introduce yourselves."
One by one, each of the kids stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "I'm Clive Fitzgerald, sir."
"My name's Robert Fitzgerald, but I answer to Bobby. We're pleased to have you here."
"Lizzie Fitzgerald, sir. Pleased to meet you."
With a flourish of a curtsy, "Gigi Fitzgerald. So do the cows have names yet?"
Taking in the group, Mr. O'Keefe said, "I look forward to working with all of you. When you have questions, ask. No harm comes from asking a question. And, yes, Gigi, they do already have names. Your new family members are Lily and Violet." The youngest Fitzgerald clapped her hands in excitement, and he added, "One of my granddaughters named these two. When you start having calves around here, though, you can name them yourselves."
Gigi immediately started in, "They're going to fit right in with Flower! And we can name their babies Rose and Lavender and Daisy and Chrysanthemum. Ooh! We could name one Chrysanthemum!"
Mary ushered everyone toward the barn as Gigi sang out, "Flower, have you met Lily and Violet yet?"
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Fitzgerald family spent Saturday cleaning out and making modifications to an old underground storm shelter. For as long as Mary could remember, whenever a strong storm came through, they'd retreated to the root cellar. Since the storm shelter was no longer in use, it would be the perfect place for their cheese house. Mr. O'Keefe insisted they have a large enough area to both process and age the cheese. "A good cheddar needs to be aged for at least a year. That's if you want a nice sharp taste to it. Age it less, and you'll have a softer taste. If you want to build a cheese-making empire," he said with a chuckle, "you'll want to get off to a good start and not sell anything that's less than exceptional. Start by selling an inferior product, and you won't have customers for long."
Mary took notes on everything he said. She'd had cheese before, but it wasn't common in Larkspur. "Do you think people will spend the money for cheese?" she worried out loud.
Nodding, Mr. O'Keefe said, "Some people won't buy into it, but you get your fancy hotel to serve it, and pretty soon you'll have people going into the mercantile asking for it. And if you ever get a train coming through here, there might be some enterprising young person who puts a stand on the platform to sell bread and cheese to passengers. I've read about that becoming pretty common practice in the east."
"Besides," Mr. Wilkes, who was helping, piped up, "even if nobody ever buys it, it'll still be food for your family, and it's a food not so dependent on the weather. That's a good thing no matter how you look at it."
"It'll work out Mary," Lizzie added softly, standing near her sister.
Practicality won out and. Deciding worrying would do her no good, Mary threw herself back into the work. In the coming week Mr. O'Keefe and Mr. Wilkes were going to help her build shelves while the kids were at school. The cheese house would need lots of sturdy shelves. None of the ones previously in this shelter had survived what appeared to be decades of neglect.
That night over supper, Mary saw Bobby and Lizzie exchanging glances. She was pretty sure she saw Lizzie kick Bobby under the table, too, but she let it go since he didn't make a peep about it. As the last of the food was eaten and she was ready to begin clearing the table, Bobby asked, "Mary, did you decide anything about church yet?"
Clive glared at Bobby, and Gigi rolled her eyes. Mary knew it had been four Sundays and the family would want to know if she was going to continue attending church. She had a pretty good idea how each of her siblings felt about the prospect, but her talk a couple weeks ago with Reverend Green had given her some unexpected insight. Folding her hands and placing them on the table in front of her, she peered around the table and made eye contact with each of her brothers and sisters, ending with the youngest.
"First of all, Gigi, I will not tolerate such disrespect from you. Rolling your eyes at your brother is not okay. Do I make myself clear?" When Gigi nodded, looking shamed, Mary gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Taking in the entire group again, she said, "I have decided we will continue attending church each Sunday." Though she didn't look pleased, Gigi held her tongue.
Clive, however, was another story. "Why do we have to do that?"
Her gaze steady on the oldest of her siblings, Mary answered. "Clive, I've given this a lot of thought. Ma used to take us all to church every Sunday. It was important to her. I didn't doubt Ma's judgment then, and I won't doubt it now. Besides, it's important to Bobby and Lizzie, and so it should be important to all of us. We're a family, and we need to support each other."
"So if it's important to Bobby to become a lumberjack someday, then we should all start sharpening our axes?" Clive sarcastically demanded.
Mary surprised herself when she smiled at his analogy. She'd known Clive would have an argument, but she had to give him points for creativity. This one was even better than she'd expected. "It's like this, Clive. If you feel strongly about something, and it's something that won't cause harm to the rest of us, then we will all get on board and support you in what you are doing. Period. Because we're family and that's what families do. Going to church won't hurt anybody in this room. Besides, my say on this is final. Lizzie and Bobby are only a small part of it. This is my choice, and if you're going to be mad at somebody, be mad at me, not them."
"Well, it's important to me that we not go to church!" Clive huffed, arms crossed over his chest, countenance defiant.
Surprised at how calm she felt in the face of her brother's attitude, Mary answered, "Ah, but see, I believe that would be harmful to everybody at this table. It's not open for discussion, Clive." When he continued to glare but did not argue back, Mary added, "And I would ask you to watch your tone and attitude. Your brother and sisters look up to you. Are you sure this is the kind of example you want to set for them?"
Clive uncrossed his arms and stood, the steam gone from his expression. "I'm gonna go check on the cows," he said as he headed out the front door. Mary held her sigh. She had hoped for an apology but would have to settle for an impasse.
Mary lay awake that night long after she should have been asleep. No matter what she tried, slumber eluded her. Clive wasn't the only one on her mind, though. She was also thinking about some of the changes she'd been undergoing, not the least of which was accepting that she needed to stop worrying about losing her brothers and sisters. Their growing love for the Wilkeses didn't mean they cared less about her. Grady had been right when he'd said she was allowing fear to control her.
Finally giving up on sleep, Mary rose
to go downstairs. She lit a lamp and settled in at the dining table with paper, inkwell and the family's one pen. She made sure the nib was firmly attached to the pen and began.
Dear Grady,
I couldn't sleep tonight, and I decided there are some things I need to tell you.
****
The next several weeks flew by as Mary and her family learned everything they could learn about maximizing the output from the cows and making cheese. They had plenty of extra milk since the hotel hadn't opened yet, and they put all of it to good use as they learned the cheese making trade. Gigi had laughed in delight when she'd learned the milk separated into curds and whey. It reminded her of a favorite rhyme which she invariably recited every time she set foot into what they'd begun to refer to as the cheese house.
Mr. O'Keefe cut his stay short. Taking his leave, he headed back to Montana as October rolled into town. It would be a long cold ride home. He planned to skirt along the Salmon River Mountains. There would be no choice, however, but to go up and over the Bitterroot Mountains. The peeks were already shining white with snow by the time he and his men left town.
Mr. Livingston informed Mary the hotel would be open by the end of October. It would have been sooner, but he'd taken his bride on a surprise honeymoon trip back east to meet some of his family. Mary had been thankful for the reprieve so she could practice her cheese-making but was now ready to get settled into a new winter routine that would include supplying the hotel with as much food as she could. She intended to ask Mr. Livingston about also doing some baking for the hotel the next time she saw him.
Having Mr. O'Keefe around had been good for Clive. Although he was a dairy man, Mr. O'Keefe knew a lot about raising horses and had spent many an evening visiting with the boy on that very subject. The older man knew a horse rancher up near him, too, and was sure he could get Clive an apprenticeship up there once the boy was done with school. "You got to do good in school, though. Part of bein' a man is takin' responsibility an' doin' yer job even when you don't want to be doin' it. If you want an apprenticeship in a man's job, you got to be actin' like a man. I can't recommend you no how otherwise."
It seemed Clive had taken Mr. O'Keefe's words to heart. He no longer complained about school or church and never failed to go above and beyond what was expected of him around the farm. There was still a thread of anger running through the boy, but Mary couldn't fault him for the way he treated any of his siblings, her included.
****
"What in tarnation is taking you so long?" Bobby yelled through the closed bedroom door. "They're going to think we're not coming. Hurry up!"
"Robert James Fitzgerald, what on earth are you yelling about?" Mary asked in her no-nonsense voice.
"Gigi won't come out of her room, and we're going to miss our ride to church."
Mary barely hid her smile at the whine in her brother's voice. "Do you think God wants you to get this upset with your sister? Especially when it's about going to church to worship Him?"
Looking chagrined, Bobby shuffled his feet as he headed toward the stairs. "I'll go wait for the Wilkeses at the end of the drive so they know we're coming."
Mary watched him walk away before she opened the door to the room Gigi shared with Lizzie. Gigi stood there in the middle of the room, dressed for church, clutching a doll Grady had given her, tears streaming down her face. "I was gonna come, Mary, honest. But Bobby said I couldn't bring Miss Lucinda," she said, holding out the doll as if Mary might not know who Miss Lucinda was. "He said I was being a baby."
Sitting down on the bed, Mary held out her arms. Gigi ran into them and buried her face against her big sister's shoulder. Sobs racked her little body as she clung to both Mary and the doll with equal fervency. Once the sobs began to ease up, Mary said, "You've never brought Miss Lucinda to church before. What made you want to bring her today?"
Gigi shrugged and kept her face hidden in her sister's embrace.
"Come on, Gigi. There has to be a reason. I won't be mad. Tell me why it's so important to you."
Gigi's almost indecipherable words were shaped by fresh tears. "I mish Gwady!" she wailed against Mary's shirtfront.
Mary blinked back the sting she felt behind her own eyes. How she missed Grady too! She held Gigi close, understanding the girl's pain and wishing Grady had given her a doll or something she could hold close and hug when she got lonesome. All she had was the letter she kept tucked into her mother's Bible.
Rubbing her hand soothingly along Gigi's back, Mary said, "We'll see Miss Sarah at church. We can check with her to see if any mail came in. Maybe, if we ask real nice, she'll check to see if there's a letter from Grady for you. Wouldn't that be a nice surprise?" When Gigi nodded against her chest, Mary added, "We can't ask her, though, if we don't get to church. What do you think?"
Gaze still watery with a child's turmoil and heartbreak, Gigi watched Mary and asked, "If you let me bring Miss Lucinda, I'll let you hold her for part of the time. Then you can hug her and remember how nice Grady was to us."
Smiling at her baby sister, Mary smoothed the girl's hair and said, "You can bring Miss Lucinda today, but I'll tell you what. If I get lonely, I'll hug you instead, how's that?"
Gigi nodded, and the two headed down the stairs. Holding hands, they arrived at the end of the drive to find the Wilkeses waiting with Clive, Bobby, and Lizzie already on board.
"We were about to come for you," Mr. Wilkes said. "Everything all right?"
"Yes, sir," Mary answered. "We needed a minute extra this morning. Sorry for the holdup."
Nobody could miss how Gigi climbed into Mary's lap and wouldn't look at anyone. The subject was dropped as Mr. Wilkes gave a firm, "Hayup," to the horses.
About halfway to town, Mary said to her other siblings, "Gigi and I are going to walk home after church. We need to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Livingston. Do you guys want to walk with us or ride home with the Wilkeses?"
"I'll walk with you," Bobby said, looking guilty for the way he'd yelled at his sister earlier.
"It's a nice day. I'll walk," Lizzie added.
"I guess it's unanimous, then," Clive added. "We'll all walk."
"It won't be so bad," Mary said. "I used the last of the strawberries to make a great pie. We'll have it later today after we eat. It'll be a nice treat after the walk home."
****
The church service was over, and everyone had shuffled out of the sanctuary. Mary and her family walked over to where Mr. Livingston and his wife Sarah were visiting with a new couple in town. Not wanting to interrupt, Mary hung back a bit. When Mr. Livingston looked up and saw her there, he gave them all a big smile and excused himself from the group.
"How are all of you today?" He always had such a relaxed air about him. Mary still hadn't quite figured out what to make of the man. Today his suit was midnight black, and his vest was shiny gold.
"Hello, Mr. Livingston. I wondered if I might have a word?" Mary asked respectfully.
"Now Mary, I've told you many times to call me Samuel. Are you ever going to get around to doing that?"
The old Mary would have ducked her head in embarrassment and stammered an answer and then still called him by the formal name. This Mary, though, didn't hide her face, didn't stumble over her words and didn't back down. "I imagine it's time I ought to start calling you by your given name if you keep insisting on it," she said. "Do you think I could have a word with you? My sister," she indicated Gigi, who in turn started hopping in place, "also needs to ask Sarah something when we're through."
Samuel laughed at the young girl's enthusiasm and asked, "Do you have business with Sarah?"
Gigi nodded her head vigorously and, still hopping, answered, "I need to see if she has a letter for me."
Squatting down in front of her, Samuel asked, "A letter for you? Aren't you awfully young to be getting mail?"
"Grady writes to us. All of us 'cept Mary. I don't think he writes to her." Mary winced. Gigi didn't realize how the truth of her words
cut.
Tweaking the end of Gigi's nose, Samuel said, "The stage office doesn't open on Sunday, but if you wait 'til she's done talking and then ask her real nice-like, Sarah might be willing to check and see if there's any mail for you." Turning his attention to Mary, he asked, "And what can I do for you?"
"I wanted to confirm the start date for the milk. We've also started making cheese. It'll be several months before we have anything for you, but I wanted to mention it. It was also on my mind to talk to you about baking. I can make many different kinds of pies, as well as cakes, cookies, tarts, and other pastries and wondered if the hotel would be interested in any of those items?"
Nodding his head thoughtfully, Samuel answered, "I hired a cook from an advertisement I placed. She should be arriving within the week. I need to give her a chance to prove what she can do before I consider hiring outside the hotel for baked goods." Rubbing his hand along his jawline, he added, "Cheese is a bit of a delicacy for these parts, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, it is. Only the finest hotels will serve it."
Samuel guffawed at her pert words. "Right you are, Miss Mary Fitzgerald. Right you are. When you have cheese ready to sell, let me know, and I'll consider it. It will depend on our client base and how full we are. I can't promise to buy it, but I'll promise to think on it when you've got some to sell." After a short pause, Samuel asked, "So, have you got a horse and cart yet?"
Sarah nodded and told him, "Mr. Smyth, the livery owner, gave us a great deal on a nice strong horse. Clive is going to be working a couple afternoons a week for him. I think that might have made him more generous than he'd have otherwise been."