Daniel had no plan and no way forward. He and Mary Margaret had barely spoken in the seven days they had been together. Like some unspoken agreement, they slept on opposite ends of the bed, never touching. He left home very early in the morning and went home at night. He had no idea how Mary Margaret spent her days and neither was he interested. He did not believe this marriage would last for much longer.
On the second morning, he had woken up to the sweet smell of frying pancake and when he went to the kitchen, he found a mug of hot tea on the table and some pancakes. Every morning since then, she had breakfast ready and a hot dinner every evening.
He wondered idly how she had coaxed their one old cow to produce milk, but he did not think about it for long.
“Buy some decent clothes,” he had said on the third day. He put money in a jar every morning so that she could buy whatever she needed.
What woman in her right mind would agree to get married in that rug of a dress that Mary Margaret had worn? He had seen her shrug when he commented on the dress. She was not a woman who cared for her looks and for some reason that bothered Daniel. No wife of his, would walk around looking like a pauper. What do you expect marrying a nun?
In his mind, he had envisioned a woman who carried herself as a lady and yet, hardworking. A woman who would look up to him, respect him. The knowledge that she had been a nun in all but the name, gnawed at him. What must she think of him? His very profession was anathema to her clearly very religious beliefs. She probably despised him, his work, and the money the saloon provided them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was just too polite to let it show. What a mess.
“You’re a fool Daniel,” Brett said softly.
They stood side by side behind the counter. Daniel knew that Brett was speaking about Mary Margaret.
“She was a nun and she never told me,” he replied to his brother, sounding suitably curt.
“She was a novice nun,” his brother corrected him.
“Same thing,” he replied surly.
“Well, you own a saloon and you never told her. That calls it even for both of you,” Brett retorted. “She needs someone to show her how to use the plow. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow and I’ll hold the fort.”
A spark went off in Daniel and he turned to Brett.
“Is that your plan? How you plan to take the saloon away from me?”
Brett looked at him, calmly, infuriating Daniel further.
“Has it ever occurred to you that the saloon and farm belong to both of us?” Brett queried.
Daniel’s anger evaporated as fast as it had come, but he clung on to it stubbornly.
“Maybe so, but I kept everything going when you were out there enjoying yourself.”
“Enjoying myself? Like I said Daniel, you’re my brother but you’re a fool. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day. I will buy the corn seeds for Mary Margaret since you seem unable to fulfill your responsibilities at home. I wonder why you married her,” Brett remarked, and without waiting for a reply, he stormed off.
Daniel was left seething. The idea of Brett helping Mary Margaret irked him. She was too beautiful a woman to be left alone with any man. She probably wouldn’t know if one was making advances. No, she was his responsibility and his alone. Brett had said that he was going to buy corn seeds, which would be next door in the general store. He looked around the saloon; there were only two men engrossed in a deep conversation.
He left the counter and strode out of the saloon fast. Brett seemed to be wedging himself into every part of Daniel’s life and he had had enough. First it had been the saloon, which he seemed to have a natural gift for. He chatted easily with the customers, cracking jokes and laughing with them. Now, he was getting on like a house on fire with his bride.
Daniel ran into his brother at the door of the store. Brett looked at him in surprise.
“I’ll take that—you mind the saloon,” he snapped and took the brown package from Brett’s hand.
It was a beautiful day, and soon Daniel forgot all about his brother and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his arms. When the saloon was not cold, it was stuffy with stale air from smoke and sweaty bodies. There was a slight breeze breaking the humidity that had stifled the air. Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he had been home when it was daylight and the state of the dusty road to the farm, shocked him.
He vowed to clean it up and do as much repair work as he could. The one thing that he had in plenty was money in the bank. He wasn’t much of a spender and the last couple of years he had banked most of what he earned, leaving just little money for expenses, which were few.
He was a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t made more of an effort with the house, before bringing a woman into it. He expected to find Mary Margaret in the house, but she wasn’t. He went to the back door and out through the kitchen. He saw her a little way from the house, tilling a patch of land that had been left for a kitchen garden. Her frame was small, but she was strong and she lifted and dropped the hoe with surprising agility. She had already dug a quarter of the portion.
“Let me give you a hand with that,” Daniel said.
She jumped with fright.
“You scare easily Mary Margaret,” Daniel continued, enjoying the sound of her name from his mouth.
She laughed softly. “I was used to silence at the convent.”
Daniel took the hoe and then looked at her pensively.
“How did you come to be a novice nun?” he asked.
“My mother believed that my calling was at the convent.”
“Actually, I believe my calling was the convent. I love the Lord with all my heart. But the thought of having children and fulfilling the very reason God made a woman, has also been calling to me. In the end, it became clear that my path lay elsewhere.” She said those last words hesitantly. In the silence that ensued, he wondered if she realized what would be required of her in order to make those children.
“I admire your resolve and belief that God charters everyone’s way.”
“He loves you too you know,” Mary Margaret replied with a beaming smile.
“Yes, well that’s all very well. Let’s get this work done,” Daniel replied, his voice laced with steel. “You want to plant vegetables?”
Mary Margaret looked at his bent back and sighed. “Yes, that’s my wish.”
“Very well,” Daniel said and spoke no more, and to his relief, he heard her footsteps fade away as she returned to the house. He could not think properly when she was around.
He thought of living in a place where silence was the norm and compared that to the raucous that was sometimes in the saloon. He found the idea of the convent appealing, spending the day tending to a small farm and studying the bible. Not that Daniel had any religious affiliations but he was not against religious people.
Having grown up with a father whose main concern was the saloon, neither Daniel nor Brett had any of the deep convictions that most people grew up with.
He worked steadily, and in an hour, the land was tilled and ready for planting. He wiped the sweat from his brow and felt inordinately proud of himself. He walked back to the house and found that Mary Margaret had prepared a simple but tasty meal of mashed potatoes and beef stew with an assortment of vegetables.
“Where did you get these?” he asked, spooning the stew into his mouth.
“From the forest, at the western end of the farm. You’d be surprised at all the food that grows there, from carrots to wild berries and even peas,” she replied.
“Be careful out there, or better yet, ask me to accompany you when you need to go.” Daniel said, feeling a wave of concern.
“Oh I’ll be alright, the Lord is watching over me and all his children.”
Daniel let the matter drop. He was in no position to argue about the presence of a God he was not familiar with. He looked at Mary Margaret while she ate. His gaze lingered on her eyes. They were slightly big and almond shaped but what fascinated him was their color.
They fell somewhere between green and grey. She looked right back at him. He was the first to look away. Underneath the table, his fists were clenching as he struggled to contain the need to reach out and caress her soft features.
EIGHT
The last ten days had been the most difficult in Mary Margaret’s life, she thought as she saw to their dinner. She was boiling a soup of cutlets that she had bought cheaply from the butchery. They would have that with fried potatoes and an apple pie, all gotten from the patch she had discovered of wild fruits.
Her faith had been wavering all week. She was married to a man, who encouraged drunkenness and debauchery as a means of earning money. Why would the Lord bring her to be the wife of a man who ran a saloon? How could she have been so wrong? Was this some kind of punishment? Was the Lord Almighty chastising her for abandoning her calling? For longing for a family?
These and other questions had plagued Mary Margaret in the few days that she had been in Jamieson Ville. Ephesians 5:18 clearly stated “And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit.”
She had searched for verses in the scriptures that were applicable to her situation. The bible urged to “keep one’s faith even when...” something that Mary Margaret was struggling to do.
She remembered the horror of discovering that Daniel’s true profession. Her first instinct was to take the first train back to New York and the safety of the convent. But the sisters, however benevolent, would never admit a woman that had been in this close proximity of a man to re-enter their midst. The Mistress of the Novices would be worried her world knowledge would taint the others. Besides, she did not have a dime to her name.
The jar in the kitchen was almost full with coins but Mary Margaret had touched none of it. She had ignored Daniel’s curt instructions to buy some clothes for herself. New clothes would have been nice but it felt wrong taking money from a man who was her husband only in name. If only she had someone to speak to.
A Mrs. Mallet had come calling earlier that morning to introduce herself. She was a little older than Mary Margaret was and of a cheerful nature. They had spoken easily and Mary Margaret had even accompanied her to her home. She had been tempted to confide in her, but after so many years of keeping things to herself, she decided otherwise.
Mary Margaret knew that a biblical marriage was not what she and Daniel shared. He had not touched her nor acknowledged her presence in their bed; she could have been a log for all he cared. Mary Margaret sighed. At first, she had been glad of the distance that Daniel kept between them, only because it gave her time to think and to adjust. Now, that distance was just another confirmation that she had made a profound mistake.
A couple of days ago, Daniel had given her the impression that he was thawing in his feelings for her, when he had helped her dig up the garden. After that, he had retreated into himself, rarely talking during dinner. She didn’t understand why she felt hurt that he seemed to ignore her existence. Solitude and self-reflection was a staple of convent life, but somehow this felt worse. Maybe her life at the convent hadn’t prepared her for life as a wife, but she knew that it at least included being seen.
She looked out of the window. It was growing dark and soon Daniel and Brett would be home. She always made a point to include Brett in their meals, though sometimes he went missing for a couple of days. Mary Margaret cheered up when she remembered that she had news for Daniel.
An hour or so later, she heard the trot of their horses from where she sat in the front room, sewing some covers for the chairs. She had found some material in a storage room in a small room at the end of the hallway. It was large enough to cover all the four chairs and would go a long way in brightening up the rather dull room.
She stood up and went into the kitchen to receive them. Mary Margaret had read somewhere that a wife’s duty was to be cheerful when receiving her husband, but she struggled to plaster a smile on her face.
“Hey,” Daniel said, kicking off his boots.
“Hello to you. It’s good to have you home. Come on in Brett,” Mary Margaret said in a cheerful tone.
Daniel sat heavily on the chair and dropped his hands on the table.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Brett said, coming in.
She smiled and busied herself warming the food. When the meal was ready, the men washed up and returned to the table. Daniel sat on her right at the head of the table and Brett sat right opposite her.
“Let’s say grace,” Mary Margaret said and proceeded to say a short prayer of blessings for the meal.
They ate quietly until Mary Margaret spoke up.
“I have news. Today, Mrs. Mallet from across the ridge came by to introduce herself. We went back to her home and she offered me a rooster and two hens. So, soon we’ll have our very own eggs.”
She beamed waiting for the words of affirmation that it had indeed been a good day.
“You accepted charity from a woman you don’t even know?” Daniel said, his eyes shrinking in size.
“Charity? It was just a neighborly good deed,” Mary Margaret said shaking her head in confusion.
“You will pay her for those chickens tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I can very well buy my own chickens if I so wish,” Daniel said his tone cold and unyielding.
Mary Margaret swallowed hard, her anger bubbling to the surface.
“I can’t do that!” she exclaimed, her voice sharper than she intended. “She meant well and giving her money is like spitting in her face.”
“I don’t care whether it’s spitting in anyone’s face. Either you give her the money or take the chickens back to her.”
Tears spilling down her cheeks, Mary Margaret stood up abruptly and pushed her chair back.
“I’m tired of you Daniel McGraw. I pray for you every day, but I see you enjoy being miserable and causing misery to other people. If you want the chickens returned you can do it yourself!”
She stormed out of the room, past the front room and to the room they shared. Mary Margaret felt distaste in her mouth at the thought of sharing a room with Daniel. She took her things, which were not much and went to the bedroom across from the main one. Her blood was racing through the veins of her body and she paced the length of the room.
Her heart was knotted in angst and she clenched and unclenched her fists. How dare he? She was his wife, not a child. When the weeping and anger had had its full, she felt weak and she downed heavily on the bed. Her fingers trembled slightly and she closed her eyes, willing her mind to calm down. She hadn’t been this angry in years, Mary Margaret realized.
She felt ashamed of herself for losing control, but everyone had their limits. Daniel could push even the most decent of people over the edge, Mary Margaret thought sadly. She longed for her slim, hard bed at the convent and the security of routine.
Here, she was at the mercy of someone else, and the thought brought fear and misery. She removed her day clothes and slipped her nightdress over her head. Moments like this, Mary Margaret turned to her bible for consolation but she did not feel like it. Was she fooling herself in thinking that there was a life here for her?
NINE
Mary Margaret woke up before dawn the following morning. She lit a lamp and made her way to the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. She loved this part of her routine, when the day was just beginning, and endless possibilities lay ahead. Her good mood evaporated at the realization that despite her early rise, somehow Daniel had risen even earlier and already left. Not even bothering to wait for her to make breakfast.
She was surprised at how much it hurt that he wouldn’t take even this much from her. Listless, she decided to spend the morning in prayer instead. As she turned to the Lord for answers, she suddenly felt at peace. She knew with certainty she wanted this. Wanted to be here, wanted to create a space for herself, a family. This might sometimes require sacrifice. In this unyielding wild wilderness, she would have to sometimes bend if she didn’t want to break.
Relieved that she had an answer to her prayers, she decided to go to the saloon. Bring Daniel a cooked lunch. Show him that she could do this. She could be like everybody else – tolerant. She could be a saloon owner’s wife.
As she rushed to the barn to saddle her horse, she stopped dead in her tracks and rushed back into the house. Although her hair was still short, she took a hairbrush and brushed in 100 strokes, so it was shinny. She patted her cheeks to give them some color, used red berries to stain her lips and straightened out her clothing. Feeling dully armored, she saddled the horse and rode into town.
Mary Margaret was full of hope as she hoped off her horse and tied it to the hitching rail. It was early morning yet, not a lot of town folk were out in the street and most miners were still nursing yesterday’s hangover. She didn’t mind though, her mind was firmly set on showing her husband that she could be what he needed.
The saloon was empty apart from a piano man, who was playing a hearty tune. Mary Margaret was surprised; she didn’t think the saloon was making enough money to hire a piano man. She took two more steps and then stop dead in her tracks.
There was a loosely clad woman, gyrating to the music, her lips a harlot red, her bosom all but spilling out of her dress. She seemed to think Daniel McGraw was a lamppost as she swayed around him like a dog in heat.
Mary Margaret’s hands clenched involuntarily. Compared to yesterday, her anger was now a volcano. So this is what he was doing? No wonder he hadn’t made her a real wife yet. He had everything he needed here, fornicating with loose women and piling people with whiskey.
The piano man finally spotted her and abruptly stopped playing.
“Hhm Sir. I believe you have a visitor.” Daniel looked up. He didn’t bother looking either embarrassed or guilty.
“Oh, that’s just my wife,” he announced sounding distracted.
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