Tupelo Gold: Sweeter Than Honey

by Gem Sivad

  “Tonight, and I’m not sure I can face him and pretend that I don’t know.” Comfort wondered if she’d made a mistake in telling her sister.

  “Pretend that you don’t know?” Naomi fairly screeched the question. “You need to greet him at the door with a club and knock some sense into him.” That brought a smile to Comfort’s face.

  “Naomi, you always were a hellion. How you managed to become a meek teacher before you married Charlie Wolf still amazes me.”

  Naomi picked up Comfort’s hand and squeezed it. “Let Charlie Wolf handle this. He’ll know what to do.”

  “It’s good that someone does. I don’t. I thought I’d finally found the end of the rainbow, Naomi. I swear to you, I did. Remember how we tried to follow it to its end that time?” They’d grown up motherless and dirt poor. The limited care they’d had, ended when their father and brother had left to fight in the War of Northern Aggression. Naomi had been eleven, Comfort fifteen.

  “I don’t want to think about back then,” Naomi said. “It was horrible.”

  Too horrible. “By the time I met Owen Bailey, so many bad things had happened to me, he seemed like a good catch.” The beatings had started right after the wedding and hadn’t ended until he’d been killed.

  “I thought I’d put all that behind me. Marrying a respected cattleman who treated me with tenderness was a dream come true. And then, finding you again and having you close by,” her voice broke, “Naomi, I thought I’d struck gold.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Mrs. Carmichael, the housekeeper yelled from Comfort’s kitchen, then bustled into the room to be closer to the conversation.

  “I’ve known the Quince boys since they were birthed. Shoot, I helped deliver, Hamilton. He wouldn’t do such as that, and if he did do such as that, Cordelia Quince would spin in her grave.”

  When the sound of horses outside alerted them to company, the housekeeper got to the window before anyone else could.

  She peered out to see who’d arrived, then dropped the curtain, and whirled to face the other two women.

  “Comfort, brace yourself. Cordelia’s commenced spinning.”

  Chapter Two

  Hamilton Quince’s business trip to Wichita had included making the same illicit visit he’d engaged in for the last six months. Only this trip the visit hadn’t ended with him leaving alone. Instead, he’d escorted both Jacob and his son’s sister out of the Blain woman’s door.

  After they’d left the house, he hadn’t wired ahead to alert anyone in Eclipse. Hamilton couldn’t break this news to Comfort by way of a telegram. And he wouldn’t tell anyone else before he told her. He prayed he wouldn’t lose everything he held dear when he introduced the boy to Comfort and explained how it came about he’d discovered Jacob was his son.

  It had been a quiet trip. Hamilton had secured seats on a coach part of the way. Then he’d rented a buggy to finish the trip to Eclipse. He’d thought he’d get a chance for conversation with them. He’d been trying to get to know Jacob since he’d learned of his existence six months before from Mary Blain.

  Her letter had changed Hamilton’s life.

  Mr. Quince. Felicitations on your recent nuptials. I hope your new wife will not find it amiss that you have a son. Of course, if you would like me to maintain my silence and continue caring for him, I will require a monthly stipend…

  There had been more, but the gist was the same. The Blain woman couldn’t have known, but her message had been delivered at a very bad time in his marriage.

  Six months before, Hamilton and Comfort had visited a doctor in Abilene. The physician had told both of them flat out his wife wasn’t ever going to be able to have children.

  Something had been broken inside when Comfort had sustained a beating delivered by Owen Bailey. It shamed Hamilton that he hadn’t been able to protect her from her husband’s abuse, and he regretted every day that he hadn’t been the one to kill the bastard. The doctor’s diagnosis had been a final blow delivered by Owen Bailey from the grave.

  Comfort had been desolate that she wouldn’t be able to give Hamilton a son to carry on the Quince name. He’d been surprised to find out how much he wanted a child of his blood, as well.

  When he’d gotten the Blain woman’s letter, he hadn’t believed it at first. He’d investigated her claim by visiting the address she’d given him. One glace at Jacob had convinced Hamilton the boy was his. The kid had Quince stamped all over his features.

  Hamilton had spent the next four months trying to figure out how to explain his son to Comfort and trying to get to know the boy who viewed him suspiciously at best. When Hamilton had arrived this time, Mary had upped her fee and Jacob had been waiting.

  “If you’re our pa, how come we can’t go home with you?” The boy’s question had pushed Hamilton’s decision. And then there was the girl. There was no way she was Hamilton’s child, but the boy was adamant in his refusal to leave his sister behind.

  Hamilton glanced at his son proudly. Jacob was somewhere between six and seven and sharp as a tack. He was a good brother and would grow into a fine man.

  “Where will we live, sir?” That had been the only question Jacob had asked. The girl hadn’t said anything. Hamilton wasn’t familiar enough with children to know if this was normal. His niece, Brody Quince, had always been a talker.

  “You and your sister will live in Eclipse with me and my wife.” Hamilton hoped what he said was true. The two young’uns sitting beside him on the buggy seat were a far-cry from the baby Comfort had had in mind. But he was bringing her children to raise.

  “Eventually, we’ll move to the Double-Q Ranch.” He and the kids might be moving into the empty house a little quicker than planned if things didn’t go right today. He was counting on Comfort’s desire for a family to keep that from happening.

  Once they’d left the crowded coach, Hamilton had expected to listen to the kids chatter during the last leg of the journey. But they’d remained silent. For the most part, the little girl had slept, curled up on the back seat.

  The boy, Jacob, had inspected the light cover Ham offered him before he’d spread it over his sister. “I’ll keep watch,” he’d told her.

  When they drew closer to Eclipse, she sat up in the back, as if she knew it was time to wake up now. It startled Hamilton when she leaned forward and tugged on his jacket. He half-turned, facing her so he could hear her whispered words.

  “What should I call you, sir?” After six months of watching Hamilton interact with her brother, she hesitantly ventured the question.

  “Pa.” Shame flooded Hamilton. He’d devoted his one hour monthly visits to trying to get to know his son. When it came time to take him home, Jacob had made it clear, he wouldn’t leave his sister behind. Hamilton agreed. Even if the Blain woman had been fit to keep the girl, which given the woman’s bent toward blackmail was questionable, the child belonged with her brother.

  Evidently satisfied by his answer, the girl subsided and leaned against her older brother’s side, holding on as Hamilton slapped the horses into a trot, revising his explanation to Comfort, trying to add the girl’s presence to his already convoluted story.

  “Your wife expecting us?” Jacob’s shrewd gaze seemed way too knowing for his six years.

  “No,” Hamilton admitted. “But she will soon enough. Eclipse is right ahead around that next bend in the trail.” For all his bravado, Hamilton knew he was just as unsure of the future as the two kids sitting next to him.

  When his brother-in-law, Charlie Wolf McCallister, joined them on their journey to Eclipse, Hamilton welcomed the company. It pleased him to see Jacob study Charlie’s animal, a Kiowa war horse named Old Mossy.

  When Charlie’s cousin, Sam McCallister took up position on the other side of the buggy, Hamilton knew something was wrong.

  “You fellows want something?”

  Charlie nodded at the children and gave them what passed as a smile before resuming his usual stoic expression. Hamilton followed his
gaze. Seemingly oblivious to Hamilton and Charlie, Jacob held his sister’s hand and both kids studied the oddly dappled horse Sam McCallister rode. Charlie’s gaze returned to Hamilton.

  “Naomi’s upset.”

  “Why would your wife be upset with me?” But Hamilton already got the connection. If Naomi was upset, then it was because Comfort knew.

  “Your wife was real curious about those trips of yours to Wichita,” Sam said gruffly. “Her being Charlie’s family now, I looked into it for her.”

  “She had you spy on me?” Hamilton’s flash of anger died as he read censure in the bounty hunter’s cold gaze.

  “Yep.” Sam’s smile chilled Hamilton. “She’s a fine lookin’ woman. Smart too. Rare combination.”

  “I’ll tender your compliments to her,” Hamilton answered, grimly. He didn’t need the approval of the man. But he didn’t need to make an enemy of Charlie’s cousin either.

  Hell, Hamilton didn’t know which way his brother-in-law would jump if hostilities arose between the Quince and McCallister families.

  “What kind of horse is this?” Jacob interrupted the staring match between Hamilton and Sam.

  “Appaloosa,” Sam drawled the word. “You like horses?”

  “Yep,” Jacob answered, mimicking Sam’s speech. “I’m going to raise them some day. Where do apa…apa…” he stuttered to an almost halt before demanding,” Say it again for me.”

  “Ap.pa.loo.sa…”

  As Hamilton watched in bewilderment, Sam resumed his conversation with Jacob, telling him about horses raised by the Nez Perce tribe.

  Hamilton eavesdropped, discovering more about Jacob during his son’s conversation with the bounty hunter nicknamed Snake, than Hamilton had learned in six months of visits.

  Charlie Wolf pulled his attention back to the current issue. The half civilized tracker married to Comfort’s sister had his own opinion to share.

  “Quince. You messed up. You shouldn’t have tried to fool Comfort. She’s smarter than you.” Charlie shook his head, giving him a disgusted look.

  “I take it she knows I’m on my way home.” When Charlie nodded, Hamilton tightened his grip on the reins and clucked at the horses. “Might as well face the music then,” he muttered. “Hang on to your sister, Jacob.”

  The horses trotted smartly into the town, a rider on each side of the buggy. When he started toward the Mercantile, Charlie shook his head. “She’s at the boardinghouse waiting.”

  Later, Hamilton would remember the last patch of dusty street that lay between him and Comfort as the longest ride of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he didn’t have any excuses, and he didn’t know how to say, “I’m sorry.” He’d broken his promise to never hurt her and was about to deliver pain no woman deserved.

  But dammit, Jacob was his son. No one who looked at the boy could doubt that. The thick black hair, lanky length of him, and dark eyes were a dead give-away about who’d sired the kid.

  Hamilton felt his chest swell with pride. He had a son, even though it had been an ill-considered moment of jealousy and anger years before that had produced Jacob.

  He’d kept his son’s existence secret for six months, trying to figure out how to tell his wife. He hadn’t intended to tell Comfort in this way, but the last visit had called for quick action. And here he was with two kids in a buggy, sitting outside the CQ Boardinghouse and wondering if he’d even get through the front door.

  Hamilton assumed that Comfort would be watching for him from the front window of the boarding house and expecting him to return, riding his saddle horse. Instead he’d trotted the buggy up to the hitching rail and halted. He saw the curtain twitch, but no smiling face welcomed him through the glass.

  Jacob jumped down from his perch on the bench and efficiently tied the lead rope to the post. Feeling hollow inside, Hamilton faced the little girl.

  “Guess we’re here.” Behind him he watched Naomi come out of the front door.

  “Good afternoon, Hamilton,” Naomi said as she started for the buggy.

  “Charlie, the kids need to meet my wife, before they meet your wife. Comfort and I need to sort things out first.”

  Hamilton sighed in gratitude when Charlie dismounted.

  “Naomi gets upset when Comfort’s upset. ’Spect you best get to sortin’.” His glance swept from Hamilton to the kids beside him, then he crossed from the buggy to head his wife in another direction.

  Hamilton had a feeling Naomi wanted to flay the skin off him. Her lips were pressed tight and Hamilton didn’t have to be a genius to know she had scathing criticisms she wanted to fling his way.

  “Time to go home, mi corazón.” Charlie murmured.

  At Charlie’s softly-spoken words, Naomi’s expression gentled and she hushed. When Charlie lifted her onto her horse and patted her thigh affectionately, Naomi smiled down at him.

  She loves him. Well hell, he loves her too. Her face glowed and her eyes sparkled. It was the first time Hamilton had ever seen a resemblance between Charlie’s plain wife and Hamilton’s own beautiful bride.

  Sam remained mounted, staring with interest at the house, and showing no sign of leaving.

  “You can go on home now, too” Hamilton growled.

  “Smart and good to look at. Like I said, Quince. Rare.” Warning in place, Sam turned away from Hamilton to follow his cousin and wife toward the MC3.

  Hamilton climbed from the buggy, turning back again to lift Jacob’s sister to the ground. But his son was there before him.

  “I’ve got you, Ladybug,” the young boy crooned to the smaller child as he swung her down.

  Hamilton would like to have lingered outside, but curtains in town were already twitching at the unusual site of one of the Quince brothers driving a rented buggy with two kids beside him.

  “Jacob, bring your sister and come with me.” Hamilton motioned for his son to join him on the porch steps.

  Comfort didn’t come out to greet him, but she didn’t bar the door either. Hamilton took that as a good sign. She was waiting in the front room, silver coffee urn ready with a tray of sandwiches beside the cups.

  Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this calm acceptance, although he shouldn’t have been surprised. Comfort met every crisis with serene composure. Sometimes Hamilton wished she’d just break loose with a tantrum, swear at him, and maybe throw a vase or two. But that wasn’t her way of doing things.

  “Hamilton, introduce me to the children.”

  Ham flinched at the unexpected request. Worse yet, he didn’t know the little girl’s name.

  “Comfort, we need to talk.”

  She ignored his words and turned to Jacob with her hand outstretched. “Hello. I’m Comfort Quince, your father’s wife. I’m very glad to meet you.”

  It pleased Hamilton mightily when his son shook Comfort’s hand.

  “I’m Jacob,” he said gruffly, apparently waiting for Comfort to make the next move.

  She knelt on the floor to face the young girl clinging to Jacob’s side. “And what’s your name?”

  “Sally,” the little girl whispered, staring at the food on the tray intently.

  Comfort took her hand and drew her closer studying her. Then she stood and led the way to the meal.

  It seemed to Hamilton that both he and Jacob let out a long sigh at the same time. Jacob remained standing until Comfort sat Sally down on the sofa, unfolded a napkin across her lap, placing a plate with a sandwich on it in her hands.

  “It’s a long trip from Wichita children. I expect you’re tired and hungry. Let’s take care of the first and then we’ll see about the second.”

  Except for the slight flush that stained her cheeks pink as she spoke to the children, no one would ever have suspected that Comfort was upset. Her welcome to Hamilton though, was the polite greeting of an innkeeper to a guest for the night.

  After her initial glance, Comfort focused all of her attention on the two children, leaving Hamilton to pour his own coffee which turned out t
o be hot chocolate. He set his cup aside and reached for a plate.

  While he’d been assessing the situation, the kids consumed the contents on the platter. There was one sandwich left by the time he reached for it. Jacob reached at the same time.

  “Hamilton,” Comfort said sharply. He dropped his hand and watched Jacob retrieve the prize and stuff it into his mouth.

  As the kid gobbled down the sandwich, Hamilton read his son’s smug expression well. He’d seen the same look of satisfaction in the mirror often enough to recognize it.

  He avoided Comfort’s gaze. Talk would come later when there was no audience. He poured the cup of chocolate back into the urn and went in search of a different brew in the kitchen.

  “Marta, could a man find a fresh cup of coffee out here?” he asked hopefully.

  “Reckon a man might. But there ain’t none of those to be had around here. Low down skunks, now. We’ve got them a plenty.”

  Normally when he came home from a trip to Wichita, even if Comfort was still at the store, Mrs. Carmichael went out of her way to see that he was pampered. He had a sinking feeling those days were gone. Hamilton could see the coffee pot on the stove, but he saved combat for later and withdrew.

  When the women shifted their focus from loathing him on sight, to accepting the children, he breathed easier.

  While Comfort and Mrs. Carmichael planned bedrooms for each, he studied the kids. Physically there was little resemblance but it was their night and day personalities that fascinated him. The boy radiated suspicious aggression, hovering protectively near his sister like a wolf guarding his pack.

  Hamilton grimly contemplated what horrors these two might have faced in the past. The boy seemed closer to sixteen than six, but the girl appeared even younger than the five years she claimed. She barely spoke, and when she did, her words were delivered in a whisper.

  Sally. Hamilton had a difficult time even remembering her name. It was if she’d learned to minimize herself. Her pale curls and shy demeanor made her almost invisible.

  * * * * *