by Merry Farmer
The children—and several others in the room—laughed. Elspeth’s eyes stung and her throat closed up. She pressed a hand to her pounding heart, more glad for the ring she wore telling the world she was this man’s wife than for anything she’d ever known.
“We’ve had good times—like that Christmas your grandpa sent us sleds from Connecticut without realizing there aren’t any hills nearby, so we made a train and dragged them through the streets instead.”
“I remember that,” Hubert spoke up, eyes bright with nostalgia. “You were so tired from playing reindeer at the end of the day that you fell asleep on the sofa, and we painted your face to look like Santa Claus.”
The older children giggled at the memories, while the younger ones—who Elspeth guessed hadn’t been born yet or were too young—looked on in wonder.
“We’ve been through bad times too,” Athos continued. “It was hard losing your mother, harder than you’ll ever know.”
Ivy and Heather nodded, tears coming to their eyes. They hugged each other, while the older boys looked solemn.
“I loved her,” Athos said quietly. “I did, even though we were both so busy and caught up in life to show it the way we should have. I wasn’t a very good husband then, and I wasn’t the best father I could have been.”
“No!”
“No, Papa, you’re the best.”
“You’re a wonderful father.”
The children’s protests brought tears to more than a few of the spectators.
“No.” Athos held up his hand to stop them and shook his head. “I wasn’t everything I could have been. But I promise you all that I’ll be much better now. And now I have help. Mrs. and Mrs. Evans are right. Elspeth is a wonderful, remarkable woman.” He stepped over to her, reaching for her hand. Elspeth shot to her feet, grasping his offered hand with both of hers. Athos gazed into her eyes and said, “I love her, and I promise you,” he turned back to the children, “that our lives will all be so much better now that she’s here with us.”
“I love Elspeth too!” Thomas shouted. He leapt from his seat on the aisle and ran across the room to throw himself at Elspeth’s legs. Several of the spectators laughed at his burst of affection.
Elspeth’s heart felt as though it might break. She lifted Thomas and embraced him tightly. “I love you too, Thomas, and I always will.”
“I’m going to call you Mama,” he announced, then flopped his head to her shoulder, hugging her neck.
Elspeth peeked at Athos to see how he felt about that declaration. Her heart broke in earnest at the wide smile he wore and the bright glassy sheen to his eyes as he teetered near the edge of tears. He turned to Judge Moss and spread his arms wide, shrugging.
“You see, your honor. I may not be perfect, but without my children and my wife, I’m nothing at all. The house might not always stay clean. The children may stumble or act out from time to time. We might not be able to keep quiet when we all get excited. But these children are my life, my heart. And I…well, I’d like to think that I’m important to them as well.”
“You are!”
“I love you, Papa.”
“We should to home. We should all go home with Papa.”
The children’s statements were met by mutterings and outright calls of, “They should,” by the people watching the hearing.
“Papa is my hero,” Millicent exclaimed just as everyone else was quieting.
Athos laughed. “I’m not a hero, I’m just a father who loves his children.”
“That’s the best kind of hero of all,” Elspeth said so that only he—and Thomas—could hear her. She reached for his hand with her free one and held it. “You’re my hero, my musketeer.”
Beaming with affection, Athos lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned back to Judge Moss. “Sir, I’d like to take my family home now. What do you say?”
The spectators in the courtroom hushed, leaning forward in their chairs expectantly. Across the front of the room, the Bonneville sisters looked on with wary indecision…all except Honoria, who was wiping tears from her eyes. Mrs. Lyon stood with her back stiff, her fists clenched at her sides, and her jaw so tight she was likely to end up with a headache.
“Well, Andrew? That is, Judge Moss.” Howard spoke up from his seat behind the judge. “Do you need some time to deliberate?”
“No.” Judge Moss’s statement was definitive. “I’ve made my decision.”
Chapter Fourteen
The courtroom hushed. Athos’s heart beat so hard against his ribs that he could feel the reverberations through his entire body. His senses were alive, every nerve tingling since his speech. He was probably some new, ridiculous kind of fool for pouring out his emotions to his children and in public. Heroes were supposed to put on a brave front and never let the world see the tenderness underneath the armor.
But no, as he sent a glance to Elspeth—his lady and his strength—who looked so perfect and so right with Thomas cuddled in her arms, he knew that true heroes were the ones who were open enough to experience all of those emotions and to let the world see it as well. Love was never a bad idea.
Judge Moss cleared his throat and turned to Mrs. Lyon. “The Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children is a noble cause with an important purpose.”
Athos’s certainty withered in his chest. He tightened his grip on Elspeth’s hand.
Mrs. Lyon preened. “We like to think we’re doing vital work to protect the young people of America.”
“Well, you’re not,” the judge barked. “Not here, at least.”
Athos held his breath. He and Elspeth exchanged a quick, hopeful look. The children sat forward in their seats, confused and bristling with anticipation.
“I…I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Lyon sputtered.
Judge Moss shifted in his seat as though winding up for a pitch. “How dare you disrupt the lives of good, working folk under the guise of a charitable cause?”
His accusation was hurled with enough force to make the spectators gasp…and for Athos to release the breath he’d been holding. They’d won.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.” Mrs. Lyon’s eyes were wide, and she searched madly around for someone to support her. She found nothing. The four men serving as her guards whispered to each other, then slipped out the back of the room.
“There is nothing wrong with this family,” Judge Moss went on. “Trust me, Mrs. Lyon. I’ve seen disturbed children and young people whose past abuse led them to a sad life of crime. These children are no more in danger of becoming a menace to society than a tree frog.”
Ripples of approval and a few calls of, “That’s right,” filled the room.
“Mr. Strong is a fine example of a father, and I order his children returned to him at once,” Judge Moss went on.
Cheers and applause broke out from every corner of the room. Relief hit Athos so hard that he sagged, swaying close to Elspeth. The children jumped up from their seats and started to run to him as he held his hands out.
“Hold on, hold on!” Judge Moss shouted as the courtroom began to slip out of control.
“QUIET!” Howard boomed, standing and holding out his arms.
In an instant, everyone in the courtroom froze. Judge Moss flinched. He twisted to face Howard. “I should take you with me on my circuit.”
“I’d be glad for the adventure,” Howard laughed.
Judge Moss nodded to him, then turned to address Mrs. Lyon once more. “If you are so all-fired concerned with the welfare of young people, then I suggest you turn your attention to areas where children really could use an advocate.”
“But…but I…I do,” Mrs. Lyon whined.
“There are factories in this country where children are worked from dawn until dusk in terrible conditions,” Judge Moss roared, utterly unsympathetic to her protest. “They work with dangerous machinery, losing limbs and even their lives. There are slums where children are starving, where they are abandoned to the depravities of evil men
and women. There are mines and logging camps where they are treated no better than animals. Those are the places you should be turning your efforts.”
“But,” Mrs. Lyon continued to protest with barely enough energy to hold her head up. “But those places are dirty. They’re dangerous.”
“That is exactly my point,” Judge Moss insisted.
“I…I don’t want to go to those places,” Mrs. Lyon finished, her voice fading away.
“Then get out of my sight, woman.” He thrust a finger at the door. “You are no more a champion of the downtrodden than you are a sultan in Egypt.”
Mrs. Lyon cowered, gathering her skirts and rushing to leave the room. Across from where Athos stood, watching the whole thing in wonder, the Bonneville sisters sniggered and gloated.
“And you!” Judge Moss turned his ferocious glare on them.
Vivian, Melinda, and Bebe stopped mid-snicker, eyes going round. Rex rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Beside him, Bonnie pursed her lips and leaned away, as if trying to separate herself from the family. Cousin Rance blinked as if he had no clue what was going on. Honoria shrunk in the corner.
“You,” Judge Moss went on, “should know better than to drag good people through this sort of trauma simply to seek revenge for some imagined slight.”
“It wasn’t imagined,” Bebe blurted. “They ruined Vivian’s lilac dress and my spring green one. That dress came all the way from Paris!”
“Actually, Wendy Montrose made it,” Honoria mumbled, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Shut up, Honoria,” Bebe snapped.
“Shut up, Bebe.” Vivian smacked her sister on the arm.
“If I hear so much as a peep of any of your names mentioned in any legal documents that come my way from here on out,” Judge Moss thundered over them. “I will immediately tear those documents to shreds and dismiss any suits or claims you bring before the court.”
“What about marriage certificates?” Vivian squeaked, turning pale.
“Any man foolish enough to marry you deserves what he gets,” the judge grumbled.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Rance came out of his confused haze.
Before any of them could say anymore, Judge Moss stood and declared, “This case is closed. You all can go back to your father now.”
Another round of applause and cheers followed as the children resumed their rush out of their seats and across to where Athos and Elspeth stood. The crush of so many children coming at him all at once nearly knocked Athos off his feet, but he would have gladly suffered every bruise if it meant he could have his family with him always.
“I knew you could do it, Papa!”
“Papa, you’re the best!”
“You’re my hero!”
The outpouring of love from his children was almost more than Athos could take. He made a point to hug every single one of his kids, even Hubert, who under normal circumstances would have rather died than have his father hug him in public.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I love every one of you,” he said, sighing with relief.
“We love you too, Papa!”
“And we love you, Elspeth,” Ivy shifted to hug Elspeth, who still held an excited Thomas in her arms.
“Me?” Elspeth laughed, her expression startled. “But you barely know me.”
“You tried to rescue us when we were trapped at the Bonneville ranch,” Lael insisted, edging his way through his siblings so he could stand close to her side.
“Yeah, and you look really pretty,” Geneva added.
Elspeth laughed even harder. “Well, I promise I’ll do my best to be worthy of all this love.”
“Yay!”
“And Aunt Piper will love you too,” Millicent added.
“Piper!” Athos slapped a hand to his head.
“What? What’s wrong?” Elspeth asked.
Athos turned to her, laughing at himself. “Can you believe that with all the fuss and…and activity this week—” His face went hot at the memory of activity he wouldn’t be telling the children about. “I forgot to telegraph Piper to tell her what was going on.”
“You forgot to tell Aunt Piper we were taken away?” Heather asked, incredulous.
“It was a busy week,” Athos defended himself. “And everything turned out for the best in the end.”
“I can’t wait to tell her everything,” Vernon snorted. “She’s gonna be so mad at you, Papa.”
The threat struck real fear into him. Piper in a snit was fearsome indeed, and this would put her in the snittiest snit she’d ever had. “Maybe we could just wait to tell her until she gets back here in August.”
The children nodded and giggled and approved of the idea.
“Congratulations, Athos.” Solomon stepped into the family group, thumping Athos on the back.
“Solomon, thank you so much.” Athos turned to shake his hand. “I’m not sure we could have won this without you.”
“Nonsense.” Solomon waved away the compliment. “As soon as the judge saw all of you together, anything I could have said was irrelevant.”
“Still, if there’s ever anything we can do to repay you,” Elspeth said.
Solomon shook his head. “I wouldn’t think of it.” Before Athos could protest, Solomon nodded past their group. “I think someone else has something to say.”
They turned to see Honoria approaching. She glanced over her shoulder to where her family was gathering their things to leave. “Thank you, Mr. Templesmith,” she said, almost in a whisper, then stole the rest of the way into the group.
“Miss Honoria, Miss Honoria.” The children crowded around her, giving her hugs.
Honoria blushed as if taken aback by the sudden outpouring of affection. “I just wanted to say that I’m happy things worked out for you.” She opened her mouth to say more, but started coughing.
“Are you well, Miss Honoria?” Solomon asked.
“Miss Honoria is sick,” Thomas told him. He shifted to say to Elspeth, “She coughs all the time and she has headaches.”
“She lies down a lot,” Neva added.
“She tries to,” Lael went on. “The other Miss B’s always yell at her to get up.”
“Miss Bonnie told her to go to the doctor,” Ivy finished.
“I will, I will,” Honoria insisted.
“Honoria! Get over here! We’re leaving,” Vivian barked from the other side of the room.
Honoria sent a worried look over her shoulder, then said, “I’d better go.”
She started to leave, but Elspeth stopped her with, “Wait.”
Honoria paused, sending Elspeth a worried, regret-filled look.
“I hope you know that the Strong family are your friends,” Elspeth rushed to say. “We’ll always be your friends. Please call on us for help any time.”
“Honoria!” Vivian bellowed.
“I will,” Honoria whispered, then rushed off to join her family, coughing up a storm.
“I’m worried about her,” Athos spoke his thought aloud.
“If ever a young woman needed an advocate, it’s her,” Solomon agreed.
Elspeth turned to him, a glittering light in her eyes. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”
“Me?” Solomon shook his head and shrugged in confusion. “What can I do to help her?”
“I don’t know.” Elspeth glanced across the room to study Honoria as she rejoined her family and was jerked along to the door. “But be ready in case something presents itself.”
They paused, watching until the Bonnevilles were gone. Then Athos shook away the unsettled feeling Honoria left him with and turned to his children, his family, with a broad smile. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time for all of us to go home. Just you wait until you see how clean the house is.”
“And we’re going to keep it that way, aren’t we?” Elspeth asked as they headed out of the courtroom in a group.
“Yes, Elspeth,” the children answered.
“Yes,
Mama,” Thomas said, even louder.
The children laughed, then the younger ones hopped and leaped and bounded on their way out of the courtroom.
“Still full of energy, even after a bout of the Bonnevilles,” Elspeth joked.
“I don’t think anything could drain the energy out of my children,” Athos said, taking Elspeth’s hand. “Out of our children.”
“And that’s why I love them,” she smiled. She stopped long enough to lean over and kiss him. “That’s why I love you.”
Epilogue
The heat of late July was stifling, but it wasn’t enough to stop the Strong family from coming out in full force to celebrate Thomas’s fifth birthday.
“I’m five today,” Thomas told Pete Evans, then ran across the shaded back lawn of the Strong house to tell Franklin and Corva Haskell and their baby, “I’m five today.”
He rushed on, barging into the group that consisted of Elspeth, Katie Murphy, Emma Meyers, and Wendy Montrose and her brand new baby.
“Guess what?” he asked, hugging Elspeth around the waist.
“Are you five today?” Katie asked in her lilting Irish brogue.
Thomas stopped, jaw dropping. “How did you know?”
“I might have heard it from someone,” Katie teased.
“I’m gonna go tell someone else,” Thomas announced and ran off.
The adults were left to laugh. Elspeth’s heart felt too big for her chest as she watched him. It did every time she watched any of the children play. “I think he’s made his way through all the women. He’ll start bothering your husbands next.”
“Not ours,” Emma said.
Katie hummed in agreement, then added, “Aiden and Dean were called off to the Cheyenne camp earlier. There’s been a bit of fuss between the Cheyenne and the soldiers.”
“But if anyone can smooth things over, it’s Dean and Aiden.”
Elspeth didn’t know much about the situation with the Indians who lived nearby. All she knew was that Aiden Murphy and Dr. Dean Meyers were liaisons between the tribe and the government, and they were called away more often than not. It was a good thing Haskell had two doctors, otherwise they’d be left in a lurch when Dr. Meyers was away on other work.