“I think I’ll put on some coffee for us, sweetie.” Mo busied herself for a few minutes while Jenny composed herself.
“Let me tell you about yer pa.” Mo brought her chair close to Jenny’s and wrapped her large-boned hands around Jenny’s smaller ones.
“We came from County Cork. I think I already told you that. We left Ireland after the potato blight of ‘45. I don’t know how Da scraped enough together for passage to America, but he did. We got here in ‘46. Sammy was fifteen. I was a bit younger by less than two years.”
Mo paused and looked off into the distance as if she saw them at that age. “Our parents were weak. Too weak from the blight and the starvation. They’d allus given us whatever they had. They were too puny to make it. They died on the voyage over, and we buried them at sea.” Mo wiped away her own tears on her sleeve. “Funny, it happened so long ago, and yet I can still see them like it was yesterday.”
“Did you love them very much?”
“O’ course I did. Love was about all we had in Ireland. Wasn’t much of anythin’ else. Still, Sammy and I had each other. He was allus one given to gettin’ into scrapes. I hadn’t a brain in my head and followed his lead.
“We traveled far and wide, that we did. He hated the cities. He missed the open fields of Ireland. That’s why we headed out west first chance we got. Gamblin’, wheelin’ and dealin’, thievin’—whatever it took to get by—we did it. And we were good, too, if’n I say so myself. We became quite a duo back in those days. A right good team we were.”
Mo paused and looked at her. “I was pretty back then, Jenny dear. Not as pretty as you, but I had gorgeous red hair and smooth skin and the bluest eyes you done seen this side of the ocean. It helped us in many a situation, that it did.”
Jenny stared in fascination at Mo. It was hard to imagine her aunt ever being pretty. Her weathered face was lined with wrinkles, and her hair was dull and lifeless. She did have a kind smile.
“Well, I’m rough as they come now. McShanahan women were allus tall and feisty.”
“I hate being taller than most men.”
“As long as you don’t let yourself go, you’ll be fine, love. Yer young and pretty and thin as a rail. Just don’t go eating yerself into something like me.”
Jenny wanted to protest that she wasn’t pretty. Her feet were too big, her breasts too small, and her smile too wide. She didn’t have to worry about the last one, at least. Smiling figured to be absolutely last on the list of things she planned to do.
“Go on, Mo,” she encouraged.
Her aunt sat back in her chair. “We weren’t doing too badly, I suppose. We made enough to eat well and dress nicely. The people we scammed were usually those who wouldn’t miss a little extra anyway, or at least that’s how Sammy justified it to me. I even turned a few tricks on the side.”
Mo paused, shaking a finger in warning. “And don’t go judgin’ me for it, missy. I provided a needed service to a few lonely men. For the most part, they treated me right nice, too. Except one.”
“Is that how you lost your eye?”
“Hmmph.” Mo adjusted her patch slightly. “I didn’t lose anything. It was taken from me. I don’t want to sully yer ears with the details, but let’s just put it down to a minor disagreement that turned into a major brawl.” She grinned triumphantly. “He looked the worse for wear than I did when it finished, I’ll tell you that and wouldn’t be braggin’ if I did.”
Jenny was amazed. In the matter of two weeks she’d learned her father was a notorious outlaw and her aunt a scheming, one-eyed prostitute. What would The Thompson School think of her now? She stifled a giggle and nodded for her aunt to continue.
“Well, I decided to stay here in Prairie Dell, where it all happened. I knew no one would mess with me, seein’ as to how things turned out. For the most part, I have a good life here. I’ve made friends. I have my privacy. And I have all the time in the world to read.”
Mo leaned back in her chair. “Poor Sammy, though, was another kettle o’ fish.”
Jenny sat up expectantly. As interesting as Mo’s life was, she wanted to hear more about Sam.
“Sammy decided he was goin’ to go straight. I guess what happened to me left him pretty shook up. He went back east to find a job and become a decent man. He met Suzannah there. Yer da was twenty-four and yer ma only sixteen. She wound up expectin’ you. Sammy had lost his heart to her and wouldn’t leave her, so they married, despite the disapproval of her parents.
“He tried his best to go the respectable route, but all those efforts never panned out. He couldn’t hold a job, and he didn’t feel he was good enough for either of you. He wanted to give his gels the world, and all he succeeded in doin’ was drivin’ poor Suzannah to an early grave.”
A wave of sadness washed over Jenny. How hard it must have been for Sam to keep failing the two people he loved. She wished he were here so she could tell him that she loved him, no matter what he was.
“The night she died, Sammy done pulled off a robbery of a house he told me he’d passed a dozen times. He hadn’t committed one act of wrong since he’d married Suzannah, but he was desperate to help her. He netted a nice stash of jewels.”
Mo pointed a finger at her. “That’s how yer ma could have a nice funeral and he could put you at that fancy boardin’ school. But he had to hightail it outta there so he wouldn’t get caught by the law.
“He came visitin’ me right afterward. Said he’d missed the wide-open spaces of the West. He admitted he’d also missed his life of wanderlust and crime. Livin’ by his wits. Flyin’ by the seat o’ his pants. He fell in with Pete Webber not too long after that. Pete’d just lost his partner, and Sammy always worked better with someone. They were together, off and on, for years, till Pete got hisself killed a few months back.”
Mo stood and shuffled around the tiny room. “They were a great team, honey. Famous Sam McShan and Pistol Pete Webber. Sammy gave away most of the loot he stole. I think it made him feel better about himself.”
Mo crossed her arms. “He allus wanted to send for you, but he didn’t want you exposed to his way of life. He knew how happy you were at that nice school. He didn’t have much to offer you in the way of stability. And if’n he did ever try and settle down, he wanted a nice place for the two of you, the best for you, since he never could get it for yer mama. He always did want to do right by you, Jenny.”
“Oh, Mo.” She stood and fell into her aunt’s arms. “I was miserable at school. I told him how nice it was and how I liked it because that’s what I thought he wanted to hear. More than anything, I wanted to be with him. I never thought he wanted me, though.”
Mo squeezed her tightly. “Sure he did, hon, but he didn’t know how to go about it.” Mo pulled away and held her hands out. “But look at you, how fine you’ve turned out. Sammy’d be mighty proud of you. Mighty proud.”
Her aunt went to a corner and knelt beside a battered, wooden chest. She opened it and pulled out a box. She brought the box to the table.
“Sammy left a few things for you. He wanted to meet you in Texas, but he learned he was dyin’ o’ the cancer and the law was closin’ in on him. He came here to Prairie Dell, where he’d always felt safe.”
She brushed Jenny’s cheek with her rough, callused hand. “He wanted to spend his last days here. With you. He just couldn’t hold on, though.”
She reached for the box. Carefully, she opened the lid and pulled out the few items, one at a time. She found a silver locket with fine filigree, so delicate and intricate. Inside was a lock of hair. She held it up to Mo.
“That’s yer ma’s necklace and a lock o’ yer baby hair.”
She nodded and looked down, too choked up to respond. Next, she pulled out a picture of her family she’d never seen before. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. Sam
was lean and handsome, her mother breathtakingly beautiful. Until seeing this, she had only remembered the thin, sallow, sickly woman. This reminded her of who her mother really had been.
“She’s stunning,” she whispered.
“You favor her quite a bit.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t look anything like this.” She touched her fingertips to her mother’s face, as if she could feel her in the flesh. Her eyes met Mo’s. “But I thank you for the kind compliment all the same.”
She put down the framed photograph and quickly reached into the box again. This time she brought out a battered copy of Poe. She opened the slim volume and fanned through the pages. To Helen. Romance. Lenore. The names jumped out at her. The book of poems was well-worn.
“Irishmen love their poetry,” Mo told her. “Sammy was no different. He felt an affinity with Mr. Poe, he said.”
So had she. She always related somehow to the sorrow and melancholy that ran through all of Poe’s poetry. It was poignant that she and her father shared this love though they were miles apart.
The last item in the box was folded, a hand-drawn map. Or at least half of one. She recognized the parchment paper and familiar black scrawl. Sam had entrusted her with the other half. She checked daily since she received it to be sure she still had it. She hadn’t understood its significance, as it seemed to be in some sort of code, but Sam wrote to her that it was very important she keep it safe and bring it with her when she met up with him in Texas.
Puzzled, she turned to Mo. “Did Sam give you any instructions in interpreting this? Or say anything about this at all?”
“No. It’s the first I’ve seen of it. When he arrived, he was beaten down. He was dying and knew it. He told me he’d just pulled a big job, the biggest he’d ever done, and that it was time he retired. He mentioned he’d hidden something before he came to me, then he collapsed. I nursed him for several days before he died.” Mo’s face puckered. “He did tell me that you were on yer way here and to give you the box. It was his last wish.”
Her sorrow ran deep. If only she could have left Boston earlier. If only she had found her way to Prairie Dell sooner.
“The letter!”
Mo flew across the tiny room and reached under the cot. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Jenny.
“It’s not in his hand, I’m sorry to say. But he told me what to write, and I followed it to his very word. He knew he wouldn’t live to see you, but he wanted you to have this.”
Mo went to the door. “I’ll give you some time to read it.” She opened the door and walked outside, closing it quietly behind her.
Jenny braced herself and opened the letter.
CHAPTER 20
My dear sweetest Jenny,
How very sorry I am that you will be reading this and not be in my arms, my darling child. I am dying of the cancer inside my body. Mo knew the moment I walked through her door. You can’t pull any wool over her eyes, as you will soon learn.
If I had my life to live over again, I would change things, Jenny dearest. I would be a better husband to Suzannah, a better father to you, and simply a better man. But I can’t do that. I can hope to make some amends for the past, though.
Know that I loved you and your mother. I wasn’t a good enough man, but I did carry that love in my heart till the end. I left you safely in polite society, and though I have hungered for your presence every day we were apart, I have never regretted that decision. You have been well-educated there, and it seems to me your Dr. Randolph was a fine substitute for this sorry excuse of a parent.
I thought to assuage my lack of decency by giving much of what I took to the poor, the downtrodden, and needy. No more of that now, I’m afraid. When I finally took it in my head that I could selfishly no longer live without you, I decided to pull one last score that would be enough to live comfortably with you. I am smart—not book smart—but in my own way, and I proved successful beyond my wildest dreams with this final job.
Unfortunately, by the time I sent for you, I learned I was dying. I had felt poorly for some time, and then a physician confirmed my worst fears. It was too late to reach you by then, as you were already on your way to Texas, and I selfishly wanted to see you one last time. Now it looks as if I will be cheated out of even that.
Be good, Jenny, my love. Know I always loved you and your mother more than life itself. Say a quick prayer for old Sam McShan and please take care of Mo. Give her some of the money. Be happy. Find yourself a good man, one with honor and courage, and who will love and respect you all the days of your life.
You are a smart girl, Jenny. You’ll figure out the rhyme and reason of things. The secret is in the map. Learn from it, and guard it well. It is your key to security and all I can give now.
I love you, dear heart.
Your loving papa,
Samuel McShanahan
Mo stepped out into the bright day. It was cold and crisp, just as she liked it. The sleepy town of Prairie Dell was quiet, as usual. She looked up the street for Noah. No sight of him. She turned and looked beyond her shack and saw him under the shade of the only stick that could be called a tree for forty miles around. He leaned against it, his long legs sprawled in front of him, his hat pulled low.
She walked the thirty yards to him. Lord Almighty, she loved this boy. She’d never had children of her own, though she would have given her very soul for one. Noah Webster was the closest thing she had to kin now, next to her niece. Although it had been years since she’d seen him, he’d grown up exactly as she’d expected. They made a connection during the short time he spent with her in Prairie Dell long ago, one that she hoped would continue to her dying breath. It had till now, thanks to their many letters written over the years.
As she approached him, he pushed back his Stetson. She saw abject misery on his face. She had a pretty good idea why it was there.
He rose and greeted her with a tight hug. They stayed that way for a long moment before she pulled away.
“Let me look at you, boy.” She admired his tall, muscled frame, the cool, blue eyes, and unruly hair. “You’ve turned into quite a fine man, Noah. Fine indeed.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, Mo.” He smiled, and her heart melted at the beauty of it.
“So, are you a real lady-killer now, Noah?” she asked lightly.
He shrugged. “No more than the next lawman, I suppose.”
“I was sorry for your loss. I liked Pete.”
His face turned to granite. “Not much of a loss, if you ask me.”
She glared at him. “Well, I didn’t ask you now, did I? I was tellin’ you how bad I felt when I heard the news.”
“From Sam?”
“Yes, from Sammy.”
He shuffled a booted foot in the dirt. “I am sorry for your heartache, Mo. I know you and Sam have been tighter than doodlebugs since you were kids. Even though I never could condone his lifestyle, I was sorry for you when you told us about his passing.”
She sniffed, slightly mollified. “How long have you been in love with her?”
“What?” His eyes pierced hers. An angry flame burned in them. She was right. There had been trouble in paradise.
“You heard me, Mr. Texas Ranger. How long have you been sweet on my niece?”
“I am not sweet on your niece.”
“Deny it if you want, Noah Webster, but I have a lot of experience. I am stickin’ by my story. You love that girl.”
She turned and picked up her skirts and flounced off toward her cabin. Let him pout if he wanted. She would go comfort Jenny.
Noah caught up with her as she reached her hovel. He grabbed her elbow and twirled her around.
“I am not sweet on your niece!” he shouted.
She threw off his hand and placed her fists aga
inst her abundant waist. “I heard you the first time, Noah Webster. You didn’t have a lick o’ sense as a boy. I don’t know why I thought things woulda changed when you became a man.” She looked him up and down, gauging his temper. “I guess yer more like Pete than I thought.”
“You are so wrong, Miss High and Mighty Mo.” He took a calming breath and lowered his voice. “I only came here to bring in Sam and recover what he stole. No one else ever had the guts or gumption or smarts to do so. I left it alone as long as I could, but I couldn’t stay away from it any longer. When I heard Pete had cashed it in, I knew it was time to put an end to the long and infamous career of Famous Sam McShan.”
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