Erin

by Rachel Wesson

  “Mrs. Hofmeister, I will do everything I can to make sure he is comfortable.”

  “Ja. We will let him think he is better. I must get my son ready for school. It is best he is not here now.”

  Erin couldn’t agree more. A hospital bed was no place for a child. Nobody needed to see their pa die. She'd had no choice but...

  Mrs. Hofmeister stayed by her husband’s side for the next thirty-six hours. In lucid moments, Hans spoke about his mill and how much money he had waiting in orders. He became agitated at one point and Mrs. Grey had to find help to hold him down. One of the men who rushed to help was the man who had walked her from the train to the boarding house. He seemed very uncomfortable – natural given the man was dying. But it was more than that. He kept looking at Mrs. Hofmeister. Maybe he wants to marry her. Mrs. Sullivan said there was a severe shortage of women but, surely, he could wait for her husband to get a decent burial.

  Mr. Hofmeister finally lost his battle in the early hours of the following morning. He woke for a few minutes almost as if he wanted to say goodbye. Erin had to leave the room rather than listen to him profess his love for his wife and her to him. She crept back in as Mrs. Hofmeister dissolved into tears. It had taken all her strength to keep brave for her husband and now he was gone, she could freely express her emotions. After an hour, Erin gave her a mild sedative afraid she would damage herself in the grieving process. While Mrs. Hofmeister slept, Erin helped Mrs. Grey lay out and prepare Mr. Hofmeister’s body.

  “You should go home and rest, Doctor.”

  “You should, too, Mrs. Grey. In fact, as the doctor, I order you to.”

  “Nobody orders me anywhere, dear,” the older woman protested mildly.

  “And that’s a fact you best get used to.”

  Erin jumped, she hadn’t noticed the older man come in. She guessed he was the town doctor.

  “Now why don’t both of you go home and let me take over from here. Dr. Brennan, I know what it is like to lose a patient but, in this case, you did everything you could.” He smiled at her, his kindness making his eyes gleam.

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Erin didn’t believe him but none of that mattered now. The patient was dead. The bereaved family would return to their life such as it was now. It always amazed her how life went on no matter what horrible events one had to deal with.

  Chapter 13

  She walked back to the boarding house, taking a more scenic route past the mill. She was amazed to see it working with a group of men around it. The Cowboy as she had taken to calling him seemed to be in the center of things.

  “Morning, Doc.”

  The men turned to stare at her. Embarrassed at being caught in public so disheveled, she hurried along up the street barely returning their greeting. She arrived in the door just as Martha Sullivan walked into the kitchen.

  Horrified she felt tears running down her face.

  “Come here to me, Alannah. There you let those tears out. There was nothing you could have done. Do you hear me? You did the best you could.”

  Erin cried and cried until finally her tears were spent. She dried her eyes with her soaked handkerchief.

  “I am going to make you a proper cup of tea. Nothing better to take the mind off bad things.”

  Erin smiled through a fresh set of tears. Her mam always did the same. Said nothing cured anything better than a cup of tea. If only it were true.

  “What are the men doing at the mill? Has someone taken over already?”

  “No, that is the town helping one of their own. Mick, he works out on Davy's ranch, got a few men together, and they agreed to fulfill the orders Hans had. At least Mrs. Hofmeister and young Max will have some money to keep them going. They should get a better price for the mill, too, if they sell it as a thriving business.”

  Erin could have cried all over again. He had been trying to help all along, and she had misjudged him. She still hadn’t learned anything about a man’s character, had she?

  Mrs. Sullivan placed the cup of tea in front of Erin with a plateful of cookies.

  “Bit early I know but nothing better to cure the heart than a little bit of sugar.”

  Erin bit into a cookie, smiling at her hostess. Curiosity finally got the better of her, and she asked, “How well do you know him?”

  “Who Mick? Not well at all really. He used to work out at Davy's place – he's my son who now owns the ranch his pa set up. My Davy is a fine man but when his wife, Mary, first arrived as a mail order bride, he had a bit of a jealous streak. Mick helped Mary to buy a present for Davy, but Davy got the wrong idea. There wasn't a fight as much as the men were uncomfortable with the atmosphere. Mick cleared off soon afterwards.” Mrs. Sullivan took a sip of tea before continuing. “Then he came back about four or five years ago. He comes and goes doing odd jobs here and there. Davy trusts him and that says a lot.”

  “So he wasn’t making eyes at Mrs. Sullivan?”

  “Not at all dear, that was all in Davy's imagination. Mary wouldn’t look at another man, she fell head over heels for my son soon after they got married.”

  Erin couldn’t imagine how someone could marry a stranger never mind fall in love with them after the ceremony.

  “Why are you asking? Have you your eye on Mick?”

  Erin blushed scarlet even though she knew Mrs. Sullivan was teasing.

  “He seemed very keen on helping Mrs. Hofmeister.”

  “Mick’s like that, especially if there is a child around. Rumor has it part of the reason he goes away so much is he is looking for his own child. I don't stand for gossip. The man has his own reasons for living a life on the road but when he is in Clover Springs, he always does his best for the widows and their children.”

  Erin felt bad. She had decided he was acting like a cad when it seemed his motives were purely charitable. “I guess being brought up in New York I have a suspicious mind.”

  Mrs. Sullivan stared at her for a couple of seconds. “I'd say you have seen more horrors than most. I read the papers. I know from speaking to Wilma and Laura, you haven’t met them yet, the horrible things happening in our big cities. The sheer numbers of people living in such a small area is bound to bring the bad as well as the good. But for what it’s worth, Mick seems to be one of the good guys.”

  “He limps slightly. Doesn’t it affect his job as a ranch hand?”

  “That's an old war wound. Doesn’t seem to affect his riding. Gets worse when he has been working too hard or so Cookie says.”

  “Did he fight in the Indian Wars?”

  “I don’t know but the wound I was speaking of happened at Atlanta.”

  “You mean in the Civil War?” Erin knew she sounded shocked. “But he doesn’t look old enough.”

  “He wasn’t. Cookie says he was about twelve or thirteen. He told the officers he was older. They didn’t care at that point. The confederates were so desperate for men.”

  “He fought for the South?”

  “Erin, take some advice from an older woman. There is never anything black or white with war. I have never seen Mick treat anyone with disrespect. He is a firm favorite of Wilma's and of Little Beaver.”

  Erin took the hint but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Her father had fought in the Union Army. He and Mick could have been shooting at one another. Him and a thousand others. Why was she thinking about Mick all the time?

  She decided to change the subject.

  “What will happen to Mrs. Hofmeister? I haven’t been here long but there doesn’t seem to be many German families in town.”

  “No there isn’t. Not because they aren’t welcome. I guess some would see Clover Springs as being predominantly Irish. I am sure Mrs. Shaw feels that way.”

  “Who?”

  “You haven’t met her yet. I will let you make you own mind up about her. Now, I best get on with my day. What are you up to? Will you go to bed to rest?”

  “I thought I would call on Mrs. Hofmeister to check on her. She is heavily pregna
nt.”

  “Oh yes, you asked me about her. I heard she plans to go to stay with relatives in Kansas.”

  “She can’t travel all that way now. She will have to wait until the baby comes,” Erin protested.

  Mrs. Sullivan looked upset. “Financially that option may not be available. I would offer to let her stay here but I have already promised the six rooms to Father Molloy and Mrs. Grey.”

  “As her doctor, I won’t let Mrs. Hofmeister travel. The shock of her husband’s death is enough to make her go into labor early. She needs watching.”

  Mrs. Sullivan laughed. “You remind me of Katie, my daughter-in-law. She works in the store. When she gets an idea in her head, she has to make it happen. You two will get on well.”

  Erin hoped so. She missed her mam more than she was willing to let on. Not just because she was her mother but because she was also a good friend. Her mam. She hadn’t delivered the package to Father Molloy.

  “I forgot I have to see Father Molloy. Can you point me towards his house please?”

  Mrs. Sullivan gave her directions to the Timmons house where Father Molloy was staying. Erin washed her face and hands and redid her hair. Then taking a deep breath and the gift she headed outside to find Father Molloy.

  Chapter 14

  She knocked on the door and a smiling Mrs. Timmons ushered her in to see Father Molloy. She felt uncomfortable as he looked busy.

  “Father Molloy, do you have a minute please?”

  “Good morning, come in and find a seat. As you can see I am in a bit of muddle. I wrote my sermon for church and now I can't find it.”

  Erin looked around the room. There were books everywhere on every conceivable surface including the seat he had indicated. She picked them up and took a seat. Not having anywhere to put them, she left them on her knee.

  “You are the new doctor in town, aren’t you?”

  “News spreads quickly.”

  “You did a great job for Hans, God rest his soul. I did call by the clinic to introduce myself but Mrs. Grey had sent you home for a rest. Very sensible lady is Mrs. Grey.”

  Very formidable too but Erin wasn’t about to comment.

  “What can I do for you, Doc Brennan?”

  “I wanted to thank you. Mam gave me this to give you.” She handed him the gift her mother had left with her. “She said it was thanks to you I became a—”

  “You're Mairead Brennan's daughter. You know now you say it, I can see the family likeness. Fine woman. How is she and your father?”

  “Pa died three years back. Mam decided to go back home to Ireland.”

  “I am very sorry for your loss. Your pa was a fine man. I must get your mam's address and write to her.” He looked about him, presumably for something to write on.

  Erin reached in her bag and taking a piece of paper and a pencil quickly wrote it for him.

  She stood up to go.

  “Don't be going just yet. It’s marvelous to see you. How did you get on in medical school? Was it hard being a woman?” The priest stopped and laughed at himself. “Listen to me. I sound like Mary Sullivan.” He stood up too.

  “I was on my way to visit my friend Wilma at the orphanage. Why don’t you come with me? We will get a nice cup of coffee and if we are lucky a cookie or two. Wilma is a rare character. You will like her.”

  Erin wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere with the priest. He was bound to ask questions but it would be difficult to decline his invitation without sounding churlish.

  “Sounds lovely, thank you, Father.”

  As they walked down the street, he explained he had been staying with Reverend Timmons and his wife while Mrs. Sullivan got ready for her influx of guests. “I heard on the grapevine some people thought you were one of our new waitresses.”

  “Yes, it was funny they seemed to think I was searching for a husband.”

  “I am sure you had at least a dozen proposals that first day. We are a small but growing community here in Clover Springs. It is a pleasant town, although not as nice as it was six months or so ago.” She caught him glancing in the direction of the road leading to the saloon. She wasn’t surprised. Most priests she knew didn’t approve of drinking clubs.

  “Wilma, are you at home?”

  “Where else would I be when you is coming for your coffee?”

  Erin was a bit taken aback by the gruff tone. The priest let her walk in first. The woman's face was a picture.

  “Oh Lordy me. I is ever so sorry, miss. I didn’t know Father Molloy was bringing a stranger to visit.” The woman threw Father Molloy a look.

  “That's quite all right,” Erin murmured wishing she had stayed in the boarding house.

  “Take a seat, Doc. Wilma will recover her manners in a minute to pour you the best cup of coffee in Colorado.”

  “You can stop your flattery, you old goat. Excuse me. Did he call you Doc? You is the lady doctor everyone be talking about. Sure I thought you be as old as Mrs. Grey not some skinny young thing.” Wilma put her hands on her hips, looking Erin up and down.

  Erin burst out laughing. Father Molloy joined her.

  “See, I told you she was a character. Woman, are you going to pour the coffee or stand there making a show of yourself?”

  Wilma poured three cups of coffee still muttering under her breath. She put a plate of warm cookies in the middle of the table. The delicious smell made Erin's stomach growl.

  “Oh, please, excuse me.” Mortified, Erin didn’t know where to look.

  “You help yourself. Mrs. Grey, she done tole me all about you. You did a fine job with poor Hans. You can have as many cookies as you want.” Turning her attention to Father Molloy, she said, “You can have one.”

  “That’s not fair. Why you picking on me? I ain’t done nothing.” Father Molloy spoke like a child caught doing something wrong making the ladies laugh again.

  “So, what bring you to Clover Springs, missy? I heard we weren’t expecting no doctor.” Wilma looked from Erin to the priest and back.

  “She came to see me. See I do have friends.” Father Molloy answered.

  “You? Why would a young girl come to see an old fool like you?” Wilma's hand caressed the priest’s arm so Erin knew she was teasing him.

  She loved the way the woman and the priest interacted. It wasn’t a bit like anything she was used to in New York. There the priests seldom smiled and certainly not at her. She was a sinner in their eyes. Shrugging those thoughts away she answered Wilma.

  “My mam had a present for Father Molloy. I was on my way to a town the other side of Denver. Mam asked me to drop it off in person.”

  “She don’t trust the postal system?” Wilma said smiling. “Good news for us. I hope you plan on visiting for a while.”

  “Erin just finished medical school, isn’t that wonderful. I married her mam and da. God rest his soul. He was a fireman, wasn’t he Erin?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “A fireman? With a daughter at medical school. Miracles can happen,” Wilma said.

  “Because of Father Molloy. Mam told me he asked his parishioners to help and they did. I will always be grateful to you, Father.”

  “No need for gratitude. I am glad I could help.”

  “We all end up in Clover Springs because of this man, one way or another. He's a good one even if he does preach too long.”

  “Oh, that reminds me my sermon. I never did find it. I have to go write another one.”

  “You need to find your own house and get yourself a housekeeper. Poor Mrs. Timmons, she ain’t got time to be tidying up after you. Didn't I read in the bible that neatness was next to godliness?”

  Erin waited for a reaction to what most priests would consider blasphemy. She was sure the priest would start praying or screaming at Wilma. Instead, Father Molloy nearly choked, he laughed so much.

  “I wish Mrs. Grey was here to see you try and quote the bible, Wilma. You know that it doesn’t say anything of the sort. Although a house is a good idea
. The Timmons are rather stuck for space, especially since Tilly moved in.”

  “The Timmons adopted Tilly. She was one of the thirty orphans Father Molloy brought to Clover Springs last Christmas. She is a real peach.” Wilma reached over to pour more coffee into Erin's cup. “You fire ahead, Father, and write your sermon. Doc Erin can stay visiting with me for a while. I can pick her brains about how I am supposed to care for all these children.”

  “I hear you, Wilma. We are trying to find homes but it isn't easy. You know life is hard for people around here. And about to get harder if the news about cattle prices is anything to go by.”

  Father Molloy turned to Erin. “Thank you for my gift and it was lovely to see you. I will catch up properly with you someday soon, but I best get to writing the sermon. For some reason people groan if I talk too long.” He winked.

  “What you saying? You always talk too long. That’s why people prefer it when Rev Timmons is doing the sermon. He is much faster.”

  “He has a wife waiting with a lovely home cooked meal.” Father Molloy responded quickly.

  “If that’s your way of angling an invitation to my dinner table you can do better than that.”

  The priest left. They could still hear him laughing even after the door was closed.

  “No better man alive than that one,” Wilma said when her own laughter subsided.

  “He isn’t like any priest I know,” Erin added.

  “And ain’t that the truth, thank God. Can't be doing with those who spend all their time looking down their noses at us mere mortals. I reckon God wanted those that lead us to be more like Father Molloy. Rev Timmons, he be a good man too but he don’t got the same drive Father Molloy has for helping folk. Don't get me wrong. Rev Timmons would never turn away anyone in need, but he ain’t about to go into the types of places Father Molloy goes either.”

  Erin didn’t comment, she had met Reverend Timmons briefly when he was summoned to Mr. Hofmeister’s bedside.

  “So, do you like Clover Springs so far? Bit different from what you are used to I take it?” Surprised Erin asked. “How do you know?”