Eleanor

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Eleanor Page 4

by Rachel Wesson


  “You're upset? Why?”

  Lily couldn’t answer so Mick filled Erin in on what happened at the store.

  “I could strangle that woman. She never opens her mouth to say anything nice.” Erin responded angrily.

  “Mollie wrote me. She writes nice letters. She likes living in Santa Fe.”

  “Do you want to go live with Mollie?”

  “Part of me would but what about Michelle? I mean, I know you can replace me but she might miss me.”

  “Lily, Michelle will also know about you. You can write to her and we can take her to Santa Fe someday to visit you and Mollie. I don't want you to leave. But more than that, I want you to be happy. If that means you have to go to Santa Fe, then that’s what you should do.”

  Erin hugged Lily. “We will miss you dreadfully but like Mick says, we want you to be happy.”

  “I think I would like to leave then, please. I know I am running away but...”

  'You are not running away, dear girl. You are young enough to start over. Just like Mollie did.”

  “I don think I am cut out for school.”

  “No, probably not, but I am sure Harriet, Wilma’s friend, has good contacts and will help you get a job. We will give you an excellent reference. You are brilliant with young children.”

  Mick nudged Erin.

  “Oh my, I almost forgot. Would you delay your departure for a few weeks?”

  “Of course I can. I don’t want to leave you but…”

  Erin hugged the younger girl. “I know you don’t and it’s not what we want either but a fresh start may be just what you need. But, we would love you to come on vacation with us first. We are going to New York.”

  Lily’s mouth fell open.

  “It’s true. I am going home for a couple of weeks thanks to Alicia. I can’t wait to go into the hospital and show those pompous men I am finally a real and respectable doctor.”

  Mick put his arm around her. “You were always respectable. They were just too blind to see a good thing when they had it. I should thank them. If they weren’t so biased, we wouldn’t have met.”

  “Do you really want me to come? Wouldn’t you prefer to go alone?”

  The uncertainty in Lily’s eyes nearly had Erin in tears. The poor girl had been through so much already. She couldn’t believe something nice was going to happen to her. Erin resolved to pamper her as much as she could on their trip.

  “We are certain, aren’t we, Mick?”

  “Sure. We aren’t going alone. It’s not like a real honeymoon. Alicia, Aaron and their boys are going. You and Michelle are coming with us.”

  “I’m going to take Michelle up for her nap and write to Mollie. Thank you.”

  They both watched her as she walked up the stairs toward her room. They knew despite the way she held her head up, inside she was devastated at the thought of leaving Clover Springs for good.

  “I would love to give Ma Kelley a shove off a cliff.”

  Mick put his arm around his wife. “Please don't do that. You might hurt the cliff.”

  Erin looked at him before she burst out laughing. “I am so glad I found you Mr. Quinn.”

  “I am glad I married you and know better than to get on the wrong side of your temper,” Mick responded pulling her into a deep hug. She went to say something but he silenced her with a kiss, pushing all thoughts of everything else out of her head.

  Chapter 8

  Gary Barrett cleaned the counters and the floor ready for opening time, his thoughts on the young lady he had met yesterday. He wondered what she was doing in Clover Springs? More to the point, who had hurt her so badly, she’d looked scared to death when he spoke to her.

  Gary liked everything to be neat and tidy. The men didn’t appreciate it, they probably didn’t even notice but he did. He always cleaned when he had things on his mind. He liked his job but after the incident with Dickinson and his men, he wasn’t as comfortable as he once was. There had to be a better way of making a living than selling alcohol, especially as he never touched the stuff himself. He didn’t realize he was scrubbing so hard at a particularly bad stain until a customer interrupted him.

  “You are just like an old woman the way you keep this place so clean. Could eat your dinner off the floor you could.”

  “Whiskey, Murph?”

  “Aye, and make it a large one. Been a bad day.”

  Gary smiled to himself. It was just after noon so the day couldn’t have been that long or that bad. Murph was relatively new to Clover Springs. He had worked in the mines all his life until the dust got to his chest. Someone suggested he come to Clover Springs for the air. Doc Erin wasn’t too hopeful about his recovery which was a pity as he was a nice enough fella if you could get past his whining.

  “You should get yourself a wife. Get her to do all the scrubbing. Not right to see a man working like that.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a wife but I wouldn’t want her just for scrubbing. My mum showed me how to keep a house smart,” Gary retorted.

  “Did she not have lots of children to keep her busy? That’s what a woman needs. Keeps them out of trouble.”

  Gary grinned despite the fact Murph wasn’t trying to be funny. He would love to see what Doc Erin thought of Murph’s way of thinking.

  “No, it was just the two of us. Dad died. In an explosion.”

  “In the mines, was it?”

  “No, back in London. We lived in Clerkenwell.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you’re related to Michael Barrett? The poor auld innocent devil those English bas…”

  “Murph, I’m English.”

  Murph glared at him while taking a large gulp of his drink. “Forgot you were one of them. Although have to say you’re quite nice for an English fella.”

  Gary didn’t react. He believed Murph meant no harm.

  “So how come you got caught up in the explosion?”

  “We lived beside the prison. When they blew a hole in the wall, it brought down nearly half our street. My dad was caught in it. My mum had taken me to the shops.”

  “Right eejits they were. Knew nothing about explosives. Supposed to blow a small hole in the wall and instead they nearly blew the whole of London up. Good job they didn’t work on our mines. We’d all be in kingdom come.”

  Gary didn’t answer. Murph was good at talking to himself.

  “They hanged an innocent man for that. Same name as you come to think of it. Any relation?”

  “Murph, I told ya. I’m English.”

  “Oh yeah, forgot. You’re too nice to be English.” Murph repeated himself as was the habit with drunks. “Sure you weren’t adopted?”

  When Gary didn’t answer, Murph asked. “How come you ended up here? You seem healthy enough.”

  Gary smiled. Murph seemed to think most people had come to Clover Springs for health benefits. Doc Erin said there was some benefit to living in a small town compared to a big city where the air was smokier.

  “My mum had family in Leadville. They paid for the ship passage. She kept house for my uncle. He worked in the mines and used the money he made to buy a saloon. He didn’t have any children. He showed me the ropes. Said he didn’t want me going down the mines for the rest of my life.”

  “Right too he was. I wish I’d done the same for my lads. They might still be alive. But I was always too fond of this stuff,” Murph took a large gulp and indicated Gary should refill his glass. “How did you end up here?”

  “I worked the mines for a while, saved every cent and bought this place.”

  “You did well getting out of the mines.”

  Gary didn’t answer. He nodded to Father Molloy as the priest came through the door.

  “Afternoon, Gary. Murph.”

  “Father Molloy. I was just having a wee drink to wet my whistle. I wasn’t going to stay all day.”

  “Sure, it’s up to you what you do, Murph. I am not your mother.”

  “My mother was a fine woman. She didn’t take no sh—
notice of anyone,” Murph corrected himself quickly remembering the presence of the priest. “When those English animals came to turn her out of her home, she stood in the doorway. They had to lift her out… A fine woman she was. Everyone said so.”

  Father Molloy exchanged a look with Gary. They both had heard the story more than once. Gary believed Murph must have a bottle of liquor stored in his lodgings as he was far too well gone after just a glass and a bit.

  “Did you want a drink, Father?”

  “No thank you, lad, bit early for me. I was after a favor.”

  “Unusual for you, Father,” Gary said sarcastically but he smiled to show he was joking.

  Father Molloy ignored his sarcasm giving him a gentle smile. Gary could see why the people of Clover Springs loved this man so much. Gary never went to church. His family was Protestant but nobody went to services apart from his mother at Christmas. He’d been brought up to distrust any member of the Catholic church but this man was different. He was the only Irish man he’d ever discussed the British and Irish problem with and not ended up in a fist fight. Father Molloy believed passionately in a free Ireland but he didn’t condone violence to achieve their aims. Unlike Murph, he didn’t blame every English person for the actions of the British government and their representatives in Ireland. Back in Leadville, some people seemed to hold Gary personally responsible for the Irish famine.

  “What can I do for you, Father?”

  “I was hoping you would help us organize the house raising for the orphanage. We desperately need more space. The poor children are sleeping on every conceivable space.”

  “Pleasure, Father. I would donate a couple of bottles of the hard stuff to keep the lads warm while working but I think Mrs. Grey and Wilma might have me hauled over the coals for that.”

  “I guess they would but I am sure some of the men would welcome a drop or two. Davy Sullivan might have a suggestion on that front. So can I count on you?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Gary waited as the priest seemed to have something else on his mind. What the priest said next surprised him.

  “Do you know how to dance?”

  “Yes, Father, but I don’t dance with priests.”

  “Be away with you, Gary Barrett. You should have more respect talking to a man of the cloth like that,” Murph protested loudly.

  “He’s a man like the rest of us with a good sense of humor.”

  Murph ignored him, his wavering gaze now trying to focus on Father Molloy.

  “Will you have women at this dance, Father?”

  “Of course, Murph. Everyone will have worked hard all day so the dance later will be their reward.” Father Molloy gave Murph a stern look. “You might want to clean yourself up a bit if you are trying to impress a lady.”

  “Not for me. I hung my boots up long ago. For this young man, here. Even if he is English.” Murph pointed to Gary as if there was another person in the bar. “Father, did you know he’s English? I reckon he was adopted. He’s too nice to be one of those heathens.”

  “Stan Murphy, that’s enough of that. I think it’s time you went home and slept it off.” Father Molloy’s steely tone seemed to cut through the fog of Murph’s drunken state. With a sigh, the old man finished his drink and headed out the door.

  Gary had to turn away to hide his amusement. Father Molloy could be strict and scary when necessary. Looking at him now, you would never guess he had been joking and laughing a few minutes previously.

  “Thank you, Father, but Murph is harmless. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying.”

  “Unfortunately, Gary, he means every word. There are plenty of my countrymen who think the same way. Until people recognize we are all just people, regardless of where we were born, our religion, or the color of our skin, the world will never find peace.”

  Gary listened but didn’t say anything. He had a feeling Father Molloy wasn’t just talking about Murph. Someone else had upset him. He racked his brains wondering who. He hadn’t seen the usual suspects in town. Charlie Staunton and his friends, Mrs. Shaw and Ma Kelley could upset anyone.

  He decided to try to distract the priest. “Who else is helping, Father?”

  “Quite a few of the men thankfully. Davy, Mick, Little Beaver…”

  “Father Molloy, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Mick said as he walked into the saloon. “Wasn’t really expecting to find you in here though.”

  “Mick Quinn, I have just been talking about you.” Father Molloy beamed at the new arrival.

  “I hope it was all nice, although you are going to be cross now.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to New York. Erin, Michelle and Lily are going too.”

  “You need a holiday but New York? It’s miles away, and at this time of year. It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?” Father Molloy asked.

  “Yes, I know, Father, but it’s our honeymoon. It’s Erin’s old home. She has people she wants to see, old friends and neighbors. Alicia has been invited and she extended the invite to us.”

  “So Aaron Higgins is off gallivanting too. Who is going to help me with the extension on the orphanage?”

  “I will, but can we put it back until later in the year? The weather will be warmer. Say early April or whenever Easter falls this year?”

  “That’s an excellent idea, Mick. It makes sense, Father. You will have more volunteers, too, as the men can come in from the outlying homesteads,” Gary added keen to avoid a confrontation between his two friends.

  “True. I can’t argue with the pair of you. I best go and tell Wilma. Oh, she is going to be cross.”

  “Tell her she can always use the Haven in the meantime. There are plenty of rooms going begging and we won’t be there for the next two weeks.”

  Father Molloy slapped Mick hard on the back. “Wonderful idea. Why didn’t I think of that? Good day, gentlemen.”

  Mick and Gary watched the priest as he walked out of the saloon.

  “New York? I sure wouldn’t mind seeing that place,” Gary said wistfully.

  Chapter 9

  “Afternoon, Wilma.” Father Molloy pushed open the door of the orphanage kitchen. “Have you warmed up yet after our wait at the train station yesterday?”

  “Did you smell the coffee? I swear as soon as the pot starts boiling, it sings your name.” Wilma made them both coffee before sitting down at the table. Father Molloy had already made himself at home, munching away at one of her cookies.

  “I came to tell you we have to postpone the house raising, seems the whole of Clover Springs is off to New York next week.”

  “I ain’t goin’ to New York.”

  “Alicia and Aaron are going with their boys and they are taking Doc Erin, Mick, Michelle and Lily. The town will seem empty without them, won’t it?”

  “You is an ole softy, ain’t you? I am sure they won’t stay away too long.”

  “About two weeks, I believe. Anyway, Mick suggested we wait until Easter to put on the extra rooms to this place. Can you wait till then?”

  Wilma smiled. She could definitely wait. The thought of all the hard work and mess associated with building made her tired today. “It don’t seem that long since this orphanage was built and its already too small to cover our needs.”

  “Before you say it, I know,” Father Molloy said.

  “You know what?” She eyed him.

  “I am to blame. I was the one who brought you the extra orphans.”

  “Really? I thought that was Alicia’s fault. I done tole her it was too,” Wilma said grinning at the priest. “You is Catholic. You already feel guilty for everything. Might as well spread it around.”

  “Wilma, that’s a dreadful thing to say to a priest.”

  “Why? It’s the truth, isn’t it? I read the good book like you tole me too. I don’t see where it says in there you have to feel guilty all the time. Maybe it’s an Irish thing rather than a catholic thing.”

  “You know, Wilma, I thank God every
day since I met you. You make the world a richer place.”

  Wilma frowned. “Why you being so nice to me? What you gone and done now?”

  “Nothing. At least not that I know of. I was just being pleasant.”

  “Hmph. I don’t believe you. And don’t give me that I am a priest so I can’t lie lark. You is up to something. You got a twinkle in your eye.”

  “Well, I do need a favor now that you mention it.”

  “See, I knew it. You never did come here just to see me. You wants something, just like always.”

  Father Molloy roared laughing. “You know, Wilma, you don’t look a bit like my mam, God rest her soul, but you would be her twin. She used to scold me in that same tone of voice too.”

  “I ain’t scolding you. I just tellin’ ya, you shouldn’t beat around the bush with me. Who is in trouble this time?”

  “Wilma, nobody is in trouble but someone may need a little help adapting to Clover Springs. I have found us a new teacher.”

  Wilma beamed, her smile almost splitting her face. “About time too. I tole you Miss Ellen and Miss Laura were still too sick to mind that school all by themselves. So where did your teacher come from? Why don’t you introduce her to the educated ladies like Miss Ellen and Doc Erin?”

  “She’s from England, at least that is where she traveled from. I will introduce her to everyone but… Well, I feel Miss Templeton is going to need a good friend in the coming weeks. Someone to help her settle down into our town. There is no better person than you.”

  “Father Molloy, what ain’t you tellin’ me? There has to be something wrong with her if you ain’t asking Miss Ellen or Miss Laura to show her the ropes. They be working with her.” Wilma sighed. “I got a lot on my plate at the moment with all the orphans and Lily and this house. I just ain’t sure I got the energy to be someone’s else’s friend right now.” Wilma stared at the table unable to look him in the eyes. She knew she would see disappointment and shock. She had never turned away anyone before but she was tired. Real tired and homesick and lonesome. She couldn’t put that into words. How did you tell your closest friends you were lonely without hurting them?

 

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