by Merry Farmer
“Papa, you look so handsome,” Ivy declared breathlessly as the mass of children rushed across the room and into Athos and Elspeth’s arms.
“You do, you do!” Millicent agreed, jumping up and down.
“You’re almost too handsome to mess up with hugs,” Heather said.
“Never,” Athos declared, scooping as many of his children into his arms as he could for hugs and kisses.
“You look really pretty too, Lady Elspeth,” Vernon said, staring at her with a boyish blush.
“Dear heavens, don’t call me Lady anything.” Elspeth threw her arms around Vernon as if he were her own son.
“That’s what Miss Vivian and Miss Melinda say we have to call you,” Geneva informed her.
Elspeth let go of Vernon to hug her. “Well, I think we all know what we can do with the opinions of Misses Vivian and Melinda.”
Her simple comment was like opening the floodgates. “You’ll never guess what Miss Melinda did yesterday,” Lael began.
At the same time, Ivy blurted, “Miss Vivian smears her face with buttermilk and mashed cucumbers at night!”
“Miss Bebe doesn’t know how to tie her own shoes.”
“Miss Melinda sat on a pinecone.”
And on and on, all in a single rush of whispers and giggles.
Elspeth was roaring with laughter by the time Mrs. Lyon and her thugs marched over.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Mrs. Lyon scolded. “This is highly irregular and forbidden!”
It took all of Athos’s powers of restraint to hold his tongue and not tell the shrewish woman exactly what he thought of her. Instead, he drew from the immense calm and beauty of the morning as it had unfolded so far and bowed like any good musketeer would. “Good morning, Mrs. Lyon.”
“Wha—” Mrs. Lyon stared at him as though he had a frog on each shoulder, mouth hanging open. She shut it, shook her head, and huffed an impatient breath. “Good morning, Mr. Strong, Mrs. Strong. Get away from these children.”
“These are my children,” Athos said, surprised that he wasn’t throttling the woman. “They only came over here to say good morning to their papa and their new mama.”
“That’s right, you are our new mama,” Lael said.
“Wait, are we supposed to call you Mama or Lady Elspeth?” Millicent asked.
“Mama was Mama,” Hubert said, frowning as though he’d just been presented with a mathematical problem.
“We discussed this before. You can call me just Elspeth,” Elspeth laughed, ruffling Lael’s hair.
“But shouldn’t we—”
“Ugh, there he is.” Before anything else could be resolved, the Bonneville sisters left their spot at the side of the room and flounced over to join the Strongs. Or rather, Vivian, Melinda, and Bebe flounced, Honoria slunk.
“Lady Elspeth,” Melinda said. “You don’t have to stand by that odious man if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, we’ll shelter you. We will always shelter people of quality and breeding,” Vivian added.
“You’re too good for him,” Bebe finished. “We’re too good for him too.”
Elspeth’s mouth dropped. She snuck a look at Athos. He just stood there grinning, eager to see how she would talk her way through this spectacle.
“Elspeth is nice,” Thomas piped up. “I want to call her Mama. My other mama died before I could call her anything.”
“Mrs. Lyon, aren’t you supposed to be preventing these children from associating with their negligent father or bothering Lady Elspeth?” Vivian snapped.
Athos’s annoyance was only outmatched by the surprise of Vivian sneering so viciously at a woman he thought was her ally.
“Yeah, do your job,” Bebe added.
Evidently, the week hadn’t been a pleasant one out at the Bonneville ranch. One covert glimpse at the children’s knowing smirks and attempts not to laugh was proof of that.
“I would do my job if I had any sort of support,” Mrs. Lyon snapped. “But no, I’ve been stuck with a bunch of preening, uptight, snobbish harpies who wouldn’t know the meaning of discipline if it slapped them in the face, which I would very much like to do.”
The children burst into snorts and giggles. Athos had a hard time keeping his own reaction in check. Elspeth covered her mouth with one gloved hand and turned partially away. It only got worse from there.
“Well, if someone wasn’t such a sour old hypocrite, things would have gone much better,” Melinda bit out.
“Me, a hypocrite?” Mrs. Lyon pressed a hand to her chest and gawped.
“You, madam, are the biggest hypocrite that has ever walked this earth,” Vivian said, drawing herself up to her full height and staring down her nose at the woman. “You give yourself airs and pretend to be everyone’s friend, then the moment it works to your advantage, you go running to papa in an attempt to stab them in the back. Every fruitful idea we have had for dealing with these wretched children you have attempted to steal and pass off as your own, and every time the winds were blowing against you, you attempted to throw us to the wolves instead of facing responsibility yourself.”
“I never did any such thing,” Mrs. Lyon bellowed.
Athos exchanged a glance with Elspeth, who looked every bit as much like she wanted to step back and let the hens peck each other to death as he did.
“You are a terrible manager of people.” Melinda took up the cause as Vivian panted to catch her breath through her anger. “You can’t even manage your own team, instead letting them run amok on our ranch.” She threw out a hand to the four guards—who looked as though they would rather be anywhere else in the world.
“They all hate you, you know,” Bebe added.
“They do not.” Mrs. Lyon stomped her foot. “They respect me.”
“Ha!” Melinda snorted. “They think you’re a loud, shrill, incompetent, charlatan… charlataness?”
Mrs. Lyon yelped wordlessly in offense, looking from the Bonneville sisters to her toughs and back.
She was in the process of gathering her thoughts when Solomon strode up to join their group. “The judge is on his way over from the hotel,” he announced. When everyone around him failed to react, he blinked and twisted to study the variety of outraged and indignant expressions. “Did I miss something?”
Athos couldn’t hold his laughter in for another moment. “We’ll tell you later.” He slapped Solomon on the back, shaking his head. “Children, go with Mrs. Lyon for now and behave.”
“But Papa,” they all began to protest at once.
“No, no, it’s all right.” He recovered from his laughter and the ridiculousness of the situation. “Elspeth and I will be right there in the courtroom with you. This will be quick, and then we can all go home and have a picnic lunch in the backyard.”
“Yay!”
Led by Hubert, Ivy, and Heather, the children returned to their former spot on the other side of the room, the younger ones skipping and jumping as if nothing was wrong. Mrs. Lyon was red-faced and shaking as she walked back to stand with them. She didn’t look at either her guards or the Bonneville sisters. For their part, the Bonneville sisters didn’t seem to know whether to preen or pout. They sniffed and huffed and marched back across the room to their father.
All except for Honoria, who hung back.
“I think your plan to give my sisters reasons to get rid of the children as quickly as possible was a success, Mr. Templesmith,” she said, cheeks pink and eyes bright as though she had been laughing too. It was the first time in a long time that Athos didn’t think she looked sickly and defeated.
“Thank you, Miss Honoria.” Solomon reached for her hand to shake it, and Honoria went pinker.
Then she fell into a coughing fit. With a quick nod, she turned and ran to join her family.
“I knew Miss Honoria would come through for us.” Solomon smiled.
“The two of you seem to get along well,” Elspeth said, grinning, her eyes sparkling.
For a moment, Solomon looked conf
used. “My dealings with the Bonnevilles have never been pleasant, but Honoria doesn’t seem to take after her family.”
Elspeth continued to grin. The gears in Athos’s mind turned slowly, but if he wasn’t mistaken, his lovely wife was making a romantic suggestion about Honoria Bonneville to Solomon.
There wasn’t time to consider more. The town hall doors were flung open, and a grim, older man in an expensive suit walked into the room, Howard Haskell on one side, Theophilus Gunn on the other.
Chapter Thirteen
If Elspeth was taken aback by the sudden confrontation between Mrs. Lyon and the Bonneville sisters in the lobby of the town hall, it was nothing to the scene that unfolded in the courtroom. She couldn’t have witnessed a more astounding show if Athos had bought the entire family tickets to the circus.
“This should be over quickly,” Solomon advised them as they made their way into the main chamber of the town hall. It served as a courtroom sometimes and as a meeting place for the town council and other events the rest of the time. “All we need to do is present your side of the story, Athos, and I’m certain the judge will see things our way.”
They passed through the doorway in time to see the Bonneville sisters rushing down one of the side aisles. Rex and Bonnie Horner, along with Cousin Rance, followed several feet behind, Rex and Rance wearing irritated scowls. Howard had escorted Judge Andrew Moss up to the large desk that formed the focal point of the room, and the two men stood conferring. That didn’t stop Vivian and Melinda from clearing their throats and fanning themselves and generally doing everything it took to draw the judge’s attention. When the grim, older man finally did notice their antics, he narrowed his eyes and frowned at them. Melinda batted her eyelashes and waved, as if trying to catch the attention of an eligible bachelor at a summer dance. Judge Moss shook his head and turned back to Howard.
“I’m growing more confident in our case all the time,” Athos murmured to Elspeth, grinning from ear to ear.
“How can they possibly think behavior like that will help their case in any way?” Elspeth giggled in return.
“I’m not sure it’s the case that they’re trying to get his help with,” Athos replied.
“You know, I think you’re right.” Even though the thought was as repugnant as it was absurd.
Then again, Elspeth thought as Solomon led them to the first row of chairs on the opposite side from the Bonnevilles, Melinda Bonneville was exactly the sort who would marry a much older man for wealth or position.
She was spared having to think about or visualize that outcome any more than she already had as Mrs. Lyon led the Strong children into the room and down the center aisle. Elspeth’s heart went out to Athos as he twisted in his chair, holding his breath as he watched his brood march in. Someone had gotten the idea to line them up in order from youngest to oldest, and judging by the pleased, almost smug looks on all of their faces, it wasn’t Mrs. Lyon. Mrs. Lyon looked as fussy and put-out as ever, while every one of the Strong children wore cheerful smiles and walked sedately. In fact, if Elspeth wasn’t mistaken, they had all dressed in their Sunday best and were scrubbed, combed, and polished to a shine. The four guards slumped in after them and took up positions at the back of the room.
As the children reached the section of seats in the front center of the room and filed quietly in, waiting, checking with each other, and sitting in unison, Elspeth couldn’t contain her smile of pride. Not only did Athos’s children—her children by extension—look like perfect angels, they had clearly plotted and rehearsed how they would handle the hearing. Elspeth snuck a careful look all the way across the room to Honoria and found her smiling with satisfaction at the children’s display as well.
Judge Moss glanced up from his conversation with Howard behind the desk and frowned at the Strong children. “Is this it?” he asked, not knowing who to single out with his dark frown.
Mrs. Lyon stepped forward. She cleared her throat with a tight cough, then tilted her chin up. “I am Mrs. Margaret Lyon, representative from the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children, yes.”
Judge Moss shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Are those the wild, irreverent, out-of-control children that have been taken from their father?” He gestured toward the row where the Strong children sat.
Each one of the Strong children sat straighter, hands folded in their laps, sweet smiles on their cherubic faces. Even Thomas managed to play along. Elspeth reached for Athos’s hand with one of hers, covering her mouth to keep from laughing with the other.
“Yes, they are, but—” Mrs. Lyon paused. Her frown of frustration resolved into a smug grin. “They are, your honor, and as you can see, even a week away from their negligent father has done them a world of good. Imagine what changes could be wrought if they were given new homes entirely.”
The older Strong children lost their smiles as they realized the tactic Mrs. Lyon was using. By Elspeth’s side, Athos tensed. She squeezed his hand to reassure him.
“Wait this out,” Solomon said on Athos’s other side, reflecting Elspeth’s thoughts.
“And you should see the state their home is in,” Mrs. Lyon argued on. “Why, it’s a perfect sty.”
“No it isn’t.”
The room full of people who had come to watch the hearing turned as Pete Evans stood.
“Who are you?” Judge Moss asked.
“Peter Evans. I live next door to the Strong family, and I can assure you that their home is in perfect order,” Pete said with every ounce of his considerable authority.
“Pete is one of the town’s preeminent citizens,” Howard told Judge Moss from his seat behind the desk.
“Is that so?” Judge Moss asked in response to both Howard and Pete. Mrs. Lyon’s face pinched in fury as the Judge Moss nodded and said, “Go on.”
“That house has been in perfect shape ever since Elspeth arrived and married Athos Strong,” Pete said. “She’d got the whole thing in tip-top shape. The garden looks nice too.”
“Yes, I agree.” Josephine stood by Pete’s side. “I’m Josephine Evans, by the way, your honor. Pete’s wife. And I must say that ever since Elspeth and Athos got married, everything has been harmonious and tidy next door.”
“But she only arrived and married him a week ago,” Mrs. Lyon protested, throwing out her hands.
“Yes, and even a week of Elspeth being here has done a world of good,” Josephine drawled, crossing her arms. “Imagine how lovely that home would be with a happy family in it.”
The courtroom burst into chuckles and a spattering of applause as Mrs. Lyon’s words were turned back on her. Judge Moss had to wave his arms and call out, “Quiet, quiet!” Elspeth was sure that if he had a gavel, he would have banged it on the desk.
Athos leaned close to Elspeth and whispered. “Remind me to thank Josephine later.” His smile was back, and once more Elspeth was confident in the direction of the hearing.
“The Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children was assured in explicit language that the behavior of these children and their living situation was dire indeed,” Mrs. Lyon went on, her voice shrill. “The court in Cheyenne followed the report that was given—a most explicit report that detailed outrageous behavior, disregard of the feelings of others, and disrespect toward neighbors, none of which was checked by the unfit person of Mr. Strong—and made their determination about the welfare of these children.”
“Who filed the original report?” Judge Moss asked, unswayed by Mrs. Lyon’s burst of emotion.
“They did.” Mrs. Lyon threw out a hand toward the Bonnevilles.
Everyone in the room leaned forward, straining to see what Rex or his daughters would say. Rex sat stiff in his chair, arms crossed, staring straight forward. Bonnie looked mortified to be sitting there with them. Vivian, Melinda, and Bebe fussed with their dresses, plumped their hairstyles, and looked everywhere but at the judge or the spectators. Honoria shrank back in her chair, hand covering her mouth.
; “Tell them!” Mrs. Lyon demanded.
“What is there to tell?” Vivian asked, batting her eyelashes and looking as innocent as she could.
“But—” Mrs. Lyon sputtered.
“You were the one who made us take them out to our ranch,” Bebe sniffed. It was a shock to see her speaking for her entire family, but since the rest of them kept their mouths shut… “We never wanted them out there to begin with. We just wanted them to stop being such awful devils. And Vivian wanted revenge because her lilac dress was ruined.”
“Bebe, be quiet,” Rex growled under his breath.
“I’m just telling the truth,” she said, then crossed her arms and slumped in a huff.
Judge Moss dragged his irritated stare back to Mrs. Lyon. “Do you have anything else you want to say?” He sounded bored and on the verge of giving someone a telling-off.
“N-no, your honor.” Mrs. Lyon stepped back to her seat and plunked down, shoulders sagging.
Judge Moss turned to Solomon, Athos, and Elspeth. “Do you lot want to say something?”
Solomon stood. “You know, I had quite the defense planned. Testimonials, statistics, reference to the law. But after all that?” He nodded to the Bonneville’s side of the room. “No, I think we can—”
“Yes.” Athos cut Solomon off. “Yes, I would like to say something.”
Elspeth’s heart trembled with excitement as Athos stood, tugged the hem of his jacket, and straightened his tie. He took a few steps forward and turned to face the room. Solomon sat.
“I’ve been a father since I was nineteen years old,” Athos said, addressing the people of Haskell more than Judge Moss. “That’s far too young for anyone to start building a family, but it’s what happened, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
He broke into a smile, focusing all of his attention on his children. “You lot mean the world to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Every one of you has been a blessing in my life. I’m not too proud to admit that I cried tears of joy when every one of you came into this world. I’ve changed your diapers, fed you, dressed you, forced you to brush your teeth when you didn’t want to, tickled your bellies until you snorted.”