Home to Roost_Bower, Colorado

by Reina Torres

  Brigid touched him on the arm to draw his attention.

  “Mr. Hampton, please, don’t worry about me. It’s been a long time since that moment, and I hope that I’ve developed a thicker skin. You weren’t mean, just stating facts. I appreciate your straight-forward manner.”

  His smile broadened as he adjusted his hold on her bag. “You’re going to fit right in at Hampton House, Miss Belham. You remind me quite a bit of my wife, Carolina. I believe the two of you will get along quite well.”

  Brigid crossed her hands over her heart, ignoring the slight twinge of pain from her ribs under her corset. “I hope so, Mr. Hampton. I truly hope so.”

  From the corner, they walked along Front Street, keeping to the side to avoid the street traffic. It wasn’t nearly the normal hustle and bustle that she was used to at home, but things here moved at their own pace. A rider trotted down the street and Brigid took an unconscious step closer to the side. Mr. Hampton reached out a hand and took hold of her arm above her elbow.

  “Is something amiss?”

  She heard the concern in his voice and felt her cheeks flare with color. Straightening herself away from him, she swallowed and lifted her hand in a wan gesture. “Animals,” she explained, “I don't really feel all that comfortable around animals.” She continued down the street beside him taking quick looks at him sideways. “That must sound horribly silly to you.”

  Swinging open the side gate of the property, Mr. Hampton tried to hide his grin with the position of his head. “Well, Bower does have its share of animals.”

  Brigid tripped slightly, making a little skip in her step as she tried to find her footing. The pinch in her side grew as she followed after her host. “Even here in town?”

  They made their way around the smaller annex and stopped before the front door of the residence, a friendly smile on his face. “Well, the town is likely to grow quickly now that we have more women and soon more children. But,” he paused for a moment as if he was considering his words, “we’re still bordered by the wilderness and animals are a part of that. Don't worry too much.” He shifted her bag to one hand. Reaching and for the doorknob and easily swung the door open. He gestured for her to proceed him inside. “The wild animals we tend to see in town are smaller than your bag.”

  Brigid froze just inside the door, shock written across her features. “They’re that big?”

  A soft laugh turned Brigid’s head.

  “And that,” Mr. Hampton announced in a warm tone, “would be my lovely wife, Carolina.”

  The woman that emerged from the hall finished wiping her hands on her apron. Turning the fabric loose she moved closer. Giving Brigid a bright smile, she held her hand out in a warm greeting. “You must be Miss Belham.” Brigid gladly took the woman’s hand and was pleased to find her hand held in a firm grip. “Pleased that you're here.” She gave her husband a thoughtful look. “I finished cleaning the room at the top of the stairs. Go ahead and put Miss Belham’s things in there.”

  Mr. Hampton gave his wife a mischievous smile. “And what pray tell, will you and Miss Belham be doing while I'm breaking my back with her things?”

  Brigid froze for a moment, her eyes focusing on his face, struggling for something to say, an apology of sorts.

  Carolina touched Brigid's arm with one hand and waved the other at her husband. “Don't listen to him,” Carolina sighed, “he's just hinting at all the work I make him do because he thinks I’ll let him have a piece of cake after supper.” She drew in a breath. “Which he may still get if he stops grumping around and gets your things up to your room.” She turned back to Brigid with a soft conspirational tone. “I will show you where you can freshen up a bit. Then we’ll get in trouble before he returns with your trunk.”

  Giving his wife an indulgent smile, Mr. Hampton started up the stairs.

  “Now, you'll come along with me, my dear. By supper I’ll know everything there is to know about you and we’ll be fast friends.”

  Brigid followed along, swept up with the other woman’s gentle enthusiasm. She felt some of the knots in her stomach begin to unravel and she felt her own hopeful nature rising amidst the uncertainty that had held her in its grips since her father’s surprise engagement.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning dawned and found Brigid up with the sun and dressed for her meeting with her prospective spouse. An early riser, Appleton had left word with the Hamptons and requested they meet before he began his business hours at his office.

  Eager to make a good impression, Brigid had risen before the sun, knowing that when they married. She’d be up earlier than this to make him coffee and a meal.

  She ventured downstairs and Mr. Hampton greeted her with a kind word and directed her to the parlor. “The missus is making up a light repast for you, Miss Belham.”

  “Oh, she shouldn't trouble herself.” Brigid bit into her lip. “I'm sure she has any number of things to tend to, and I can just eat whatever is left after the other guests have their morning meal.”

  His smile was warm and held a hint of indulgent pride for his wife. “It's not often that we have a woman in the house. Please let her have her fun.”

  Brigid gave him a timid smile. “Thank you. And thank her. It's very kind of the both of you.”

  “Go ahead and wait for her in here. You missed the rush at the table yesterday morning.” He shook his head and laughed. “The men went after her scrambled eggs like they would dive off the plate if they left them there long enough. Carolina was near ready to smack someone with a wooden spoon.”

  Brigid chuckled quietly as he moved away, wishing she’d been there for the sight. Last night, during their evening meal the other guests of the boarding house had been subdued. He was nearly out the door when Brigid called out the question that had sprung into her mind. “You brought in eggs?” She wondered aloud. “You have chickens here?” She couldn't help the involuntary shudder that ran through her.

  Mr. Hampton laughed. “No. If we did you'd certainly know it. With the number of eggs we go through every week, we'd have to have a dozen of the things. Maybe more. I think you'd have heard them by now.”

  Brigid breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, yes, then I'm certainly thankful that you don't.”

  He shrugged. “We have a man who delivers them twice a week. He came by yesterday morning before you arrived. I doubt you’ll see him when he makes his deliveries, he’s usually done with his deliveries before dawn.” With a resolute nod, he left the room.

  Distracted by the thought of a dozen squawking feathered fowl, she barely noticed the motion until she heard the click of the door. The click turned into a tick and a tock, and as the noise marched on, she turned her head to the clock on the mantel. There were only minutes before Appleton was scheduled to arrive. The thought spurred her into action.

  Walking from one end of the room to the other, she rehearsed the greeting she would offer to him. A pleasant smile, a gentle tilt of her head to display her features in the right light. Mrs. Rodgers had always commented that her features were too strong to be taken as handsome head on.

  She struggled to recall the few personal details that Appleton had included in his letter, determined that she wouldn't waste his time asking a question he’d already given her the answer to.

  Brigid paused in her pacing at the sound of porcelain rattling. Carolina was standing in the doorway that linked the parlor to the dining room. She took a few tentative steps closer.

  “Sorry that you had to wait.”

  She rushed in to soothe her hostess. “Wait?” She winced at the loud volume of her voice. “I’m sorry you had to do extra work for me. I’m not even sure I could eat a thing.” Darting a glance at the clock on the wall, Brigid felt her stomach twist beneath her layers of fine clothing. Feeling the pinch of her corset through her underpinnings, she gasped in a little breath.

  “Well, we’ll just leave this here so you can pour a cup for Mr. Winslet.” Carolina set down the tea tray and gave
her a sympathetic smile. “Would you like me to help you? I could help you loosen your laces if you’ve the need.”

  Brigid knew she must be blushing crimson. She didn't want to shock her hostess, not when she was so pleased that they seemed to be getting along so nicely. When she worked for her father she had little to do with women that weren't in their domestic staff. Even Mrs. Rodgers who had been cook and mother for many years had looked askance at her pantaloons and other parts of her Rational Dress.

  Wearing the height of feminine fashion had been Mrs. Rodgers’ suggestion, noting that a man as prominent as a lawyer would turn up his nose at Miss Bloomer’s revolutionary ideas.

  But at that moment, suffering the pinches and pangs of discomfort, Brigid found herself longing for the freedom of her old clothing.

  “Miss Belham?”

  Shaken back to the present, Brigid pressed her hands over her stomach to settle her nerves and felt the hard wall of corset under the fine fabric of her day dress. “I'm sorry. I don't know where my head was.”

  Carolina set a reassuring hand on her arm. “Come, sit.”

  Brigid opened her mouth to refuse.

  “My dear, you're as pale as my curtains. If you don't sit down and nibble on something, I'm afraid you'll fall over and miss Mr. Winslet’s visit in its entirety.”

  Fainting dead away in front of Appleton would not be an advantageous introduction, not at all. Nodding, she gave her hostess a grateful smile. “Thank you for being the voice of reason.”

  Carolina gently guided her to the settee and urged her to sit. “I think you’re a dear, Miss Belham. I dare say I'm hoping that your gentleman will rush you straight to the church. I would like to have you stay in Bower.”

  Brigid opened her mouth to speak before thinking better of it again. Carolina didn't seem to notice as she had set about pouring tea for them both. She hoped Carolina was right. She had to marry Appleton. There just wasn't another option. She had to stay. She just had to. Returning home wasn’t an option and there didn’t seem to be anyone else who she could marry.

  Taking the cup in her hand, she gave Carolina a smile. “I really can't thank you enough. I-”

  “Hello?”

  The voice came from the front of the house and Carolina brightened as Brigid’s face drained of all color.

  “Hello? Is anyone at home?”

  Brigid couldn't seem to move or speak. Anticipation certainly hadn't made her fleet of foot or tongue, it seemed.

  With a mirthful shake of her head, Carolina stood and touched Brigid’s shoulder. “I'll go and bring him here. You muster up a smile and we’ll see your introduction done in the proper fashion.”

  Brigid managed a nod but it was to an empty room. She set the cup down on the tray, managing to keep the China rattling to a minimum. She looked down at her hands and found them trembling slightly. She hoped it would stop before she had to take his hand as her hands grew cold when she was nervous.

  Voices reached her from the entry.

  “Good Morning, Mr. Winslet. We’re so happy to have you-”

  “Good Morning, Mrs. Hampton. Thank you. I'm sure you are, but if you wouldn't mind. I've only a few minutes before I must be off and open my office.”

  “But of course. Please follow me.”

  Brigid took in as big of a breath as her corset allowed and smoothed her skirt with her hands. She would have to greet him from the settee until her legs found the strength to hold her up.

  The rustle of Carolina’s skirt through the doorway lifted her head. She returned the encouraging smile from the gentle woman a moment before she caught sight of her future husband. Dressed in a fine suit, recently pressed, and tailored, Appleton Winslet’s whole ensemble spoke of pristine habits. It should have comforted her, but it didn’t. Her legs seemed numb.

  He stopped just inside of the doorway, his eyes taking a rather thorough perusal of her appearance before he met her eyes with something that looked like resolute determination. “Miss Belham.”

  “Mr. Winslet.” She had intended to feel a trembling excitement when she met him for the first time. Thinking that they would touch hands and she would feel affection for him. The only thing she felt at that moment was worry.

  She tried to calm herself reciting their names silently in her head. Appleton Winslet. Brigid Belham. No, Brigid Winslet, nee Belham. No, that didn't work either. Especially when Appleton was looking at her with open concern.

  “Your picture,” he swallowed, “made your face look a bit… softer.”

  Her eyes widened for a moment before she gathered her thoughts. The photographer had encouraged her to ‘tilt just so, and think delicate thoughts.’ She’d done her best, but apparently, she had been too successful.

  She felt her teeth grind together at the back of her jaw. “Perhaps,” she offered as she adjusted her position a bit, trying to mimic the angle that the photographer had coached her into, “the light softened the exposure.”

  One half of his upper lip twitched, and she took the hesitation in their conversation as a chance to try her legs and meet him on even footing. Setting her hand on the arm of the chair, she took a steadying breath and swept up to her feet with a tentative smile.

  Carolina encouraged her with a nod of approval. “Oh my,” she gushed with a helpful push in her tone, “doesn't she look lovely in her dress, Mr. Winslet? I don't think I've seen such a fine dress in Bower in all the time I’ve-”

  “Dear God,” Appleton’s tone had gone from tight to trembling, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Stunned at first, Brigid found herself looking to Carolina for help when she found herself shaken and confused. “I'm sorry.”

  The other woman shook her head in reaction, her eyes full of gentle concern.

  Brigid was lost. “I don't understand.”

  His expression said he didn't believe her. Not one bit. Appleton started to take a step forward, even going so far as to set his foot forward and touch it down to the rug, before he stepped it back into place. “You never said you were… that you were…”

  She watched his eyes sweep from her face down to the floor and then back up to her face and up to the top of her head. Brigid felt her face drain of all color, ending with it tingling in her fingertips. “That I was… tall?”

  “Tall?” He almost spat the word into the uncomfortable silence. “That’s one way to say it.”

  “That's the way I say it.” She could feel the tremble in her voice and lifted her chin to face him.

  “Did you think I was a fool?”

  His sputtered question pricked her anger and her fear.

  “No, but I didn't think it would matter.” She swallowed and felt the rough scratch of her fears in her throat. “You didn't put it on your list.”

  “I was expecting a normal woman.”

  The pang of rejection hit her square in the chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't seem to gather her thoughts.

  “Mr. Winslet,” there was a soft reproach in Carolina’s voice, “Brigid is a perfectly lovely woman.”

  His gaze narrowed slightly on Carolina before he turned his darkened expression toward the floor. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Hampton, but what would people think when I walk into the room or onto the street and the woman is the one who opens the door?” Appleton’s voice pushed a few notes higher. “Would she expect to pull my chair out as well?”

  Brigid was on the verge of tears. “You asked if I was educated. And I am. You asked if I was modest. And I am. You asked if I had gentle manners. And I do! Nowhere in your advertisement nor your letters did you say you desired me to be short.”

  “Normal,” he spat back.

  “This is my normal,” she informed him. “By the time I was old enough to keep the accounting ledgers for my father, I was tall enough to look him, or any man, in the eye. There's nothing wrong with it.” She had meant the words, but her voice warbled a bit and scratched at the lining of her throat.

  Appleton seemed to
be having the same problem. “I'm afraid we just won't suit.”

  Brigid was fairly sure she was gaping at him, a slack-jawed stare that remained dry, for a moment. “I came all this way-”

  “For which I paid.” The reminder hurt a bit, another sting to add to the pain. “And you’ll recall that our union was dependent on both of us agreeing to the marriage.” He grew silent and moments later the insistent tick tock of the clock seemed to be the only sound audible in the room. A solid thud turned Appleton’s eyes to the mantle. “And now, I must be off. I have an office to open and more advertisement replies to sort through.”

  Setting his hat on his fair hair he gave both ladies a short nod of farewell. “I’ll have someone go to the train station and purchase your return ticket before the end of business today.”

  He paused, and touched a fingertip to his chin, just a scant inch away from the whisper thin line of his goatee. “I wish you safe travels, Miss Belham.”

  He sounded practically amiable, but Brigid was suddenly seized by panic.

  “I can’t go back.”

  Appleton shifted in the doorway, and he reached up to tug at his starched collar with impeccably trimmed nails. A stilted half-step moved him closer to freedom. “I’m afraid that you don’t have much of a choice, Miss Belham.” A spate of sound from above-stairs distracted him for a moment, but he quickly redirected his attention back to her. Unfortunately, she didn’t see any difference in the determined set of his jaw or the narrowed look of his eyes. “I can not,” he swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing up into the shadow of his jaw, “no, I will not marry you. I feel,” his gaze darted to the doorway of the kitchen and then back to her face, his voice lowering in volume, “as though you have misrepresented yourself.” He pinched the brim of his hat, and he lowered his head in a stilted bow. “I’ll leave you now.” He backed up a step or two and then raised his gaze to meet hers for a half of a moment. “Good day, Miss Belham.”

  And then he was gone.

  Gone as if a magician had waved his hand and plucked Appleton Winslet out of the room and spirited him elsewhere. She had no desire to look for him. It was all she could do not to dissolve into tears.