Fergus' Honor (Grooms With Honor Book 2)

by Linda K. Hubalek

  Mack hung his head, knowing the tragedy he’d faced. As the children of a pastor, they knew how to support a family in need.

  “Did you give Pa’s burial service?”

  “Of course. We all know it by heart,” Fergus shrugged his shoulders.

  “Iris, Fergus is a good man. You had better drag him to the altar as soon as you can. And any of us brothers could perform the wedding vows if Pa’s not available.”

  Both his and Iris’ faces were beet red after Mack’s jovial remark. Probably because he was attracted to Iris and could see them together in the future. Did she think the same thing, or just as a way to get out of a bad situation?

  “Uh, don’t mind my brother’s talk, Iris. And I had better warn you about Tully too. They are wonderful brothers, but they can be pranksters, loud talkers, and downright mischievous devils at times.”

  “You talking about me?” Tully walked up to them, holding at least his third plate of food.

  “There is a reason Tully is living with Seth out on the Straight Arrow Ranch right now.” Fergus turned to Iris to explain. “If there was any trouble in town, everybody knew to point to the youngest preacher’s kid.”

  “Hey, it was always just fun pranks. Who knew the chicken would fly off the schoolhouse roof and drop an egg midair on Mrs. Taylor’s head?”

  “And why were there chickens on top of the schoolhouse to begin with?”

  “Must have decided it was good place to roost for the night,” Tully grinned widely before stuffing half a sandwich in his mouth.

  Fergus turned to Seth. “So have you gotten Tully on the ‘straight and narrow’ path yet?”

  “No. Just because the ranch’s name seems like it should be the best place for him to be. He’s good at breaking green horses though. Loose in the saddle and talking the whole time to the horse. The bronco finally quits bucking to see if he’ll shut up.”

  Fergus glanced over to Iris to see her reaction to his brothers. She was grinning, apparently delighted with their banter and finally at ease with them. Too bad Iris hadn’t had this kind of relationship with her brothers.

  “Iris, are you ready to come home with us? You must be exhausted from your trip in this weather.”

  Fergus noticed his mother said, “come home” as if it was the most natural thing to ask of Iris as she wrapped an arm about the younger woman’s shoulders.

  Iris quickly glanced at him, needing his direction or assurance. They had not been parted since she jumped from the train.

  “That’s a good idea, Ma. I’m ready to enjoy the bed in my new home too.”

  “You’re welcome to stay in your old room in the parsonage, at least tonight. Please, son?”

  Fergus glanced at the two women. Was his mother sensing Iris wasn’t ready to be away from her protector yet? Iris’s eyes seemed almost desperate to connect with his, begging him to stay with her.

  But then he’d be across the hall from Iris, and not able to sleep well because of it. Why? Because he’d been sleeping on the floor beside Iris in the wagon’s bed, and might feel compelled to sleep near her tonight too. It wasn’t the thing to do in his parent’s home since he and Iris weren’t wed.

  “All right.” Fergus couldn’t help cave in to these women’s wishes. They were both important people to him.

  Chapter 9

  Iris sat in the workroom of the studio, realizing this was the first time she'd been alone in over a month since she left Kentucky. Morris had constantly been at her side until she jumped from the train, and then she'd had Fergus, his family or friends with her instead.

  And now she could finally say she felt safe and content.

  This last week had been a busy whirlwind of unpacking since they drove the sleigh back to the Bar E Ranch and retrieved the photography wagon.

  Iris had enjoyed seeing the route across the snow-covered prairie in the daylight, marveling at the difference between Kansas' treeless prairies compared to Kentucky's topography. Fergus pointed out more ranches and homesteads of people she'd meet this Sunday in church if the weather were nice for their trip into town. Sounded like several families were related to Dagmar Hamner, the tall Swede she’d met at the Bar E Ranch, or Marshal Wilerson here in Clear Creek…or maybe brothers had married sisters? She was meeting new people every day and felt comfortable with the story Mrs. Reagan had concocted for how Iris had met Fergus.

  The pastor's wife was good at spinning a story, never quite lying though. Iris smiled the first time the woman had introduced Iris to the storekeeper, Mrs. Taylor.

  "When Fergus met Iris, an artist from Kentucky—in between employment in Nebraska—he immediately asked her to be his assistant in his photography studio. Her artistic touch with oil painting brings Fergus' black and white photographs to life."

  Kaitlyn worked in where Iris was from, where she and Fergus met, and why she was working for Fergus in two sentences. And no one questioned the pastor's wife, so Iris shook people's extended hands, smiled, and murmured a greeting back to the person.

  Only the Reagan family and their close friends knew of how and why Iris was with Fergus, and she was happy to keep it that way. She was finally feeling like her connection to the Kerns Plantation and Morris was a bad memory, being erased in this quaint and friendly frontier town.

  Mack had built three separate rooms in the downstairs studio. The front room, with large plate glass front windows was where photographs were taken. Fergus had bought an eight by ten feet painted canvas backdrop that he and Mack hung on the back wall.

  Iris suggested she could add touches to the mural of columns in the future, but in the meantime there were two wicker chairs, and three wooden stools at different heights that people could sit on to pose for the photographs. In the future Iris would like to add a potted fern on a stand as an accessory, and a rocking horse for children to sit on.

  The corner of the large room also had a wooden desk and swivel chair, with two wooden chairs opposite the desk, so she and the customers could sit down while she recorded information for the photograph session.

  Behind the studio was the workroom with tables and shelves for their supplies. In the coming weeks, Iris would spend most of her time matching the dozens of glass plates to develop with the logbook Fergus wrote on his trip.

  Fergus developed the plates in the third small room connected to the workroom, that served as the darkroom. Iris had worked with him only once so far in the dark room, enjoying the intimate space and red light glowing from the Kodak-glass darkroom lantern. It was fascinating to watch the image of people showing up on the paper as it developed.

  She caught herself daydreaming, already thinking of the future with Fergus here in the studio, and maybe as his wife upstairs? Iris blushed at the thought but she was most definitely attracted to the quiet, kind man—as well as his family.

  After growing up in a huge house, being a combination of household servant and shunned daughter, she craved the closeness the Reagan family had. Iris had not been without want of material things. She cleaned the house as a servant, but was given time off for piano and art lessons. Her clothes were fitted for the current fashion, worn when she was out trailing behind her family, in hopes a man might take her off her family's hands. She lived and worked in the house, but was prepared for marriage or as a man’s concubine.

  The bell attached above the front door dinged as someone pushed the door open and walked in.

  "Hello?" A woman's voice echoed after she shut the door.

  "I'm coming," Iris called as she smoothed down the skirt of her dark green dress and straightened her posture. She was representing the Reagan Studio and wanted to look professional.

  "Hello. May I help you?" Iris asked cheerfully as she walked into the front room to see a middle-aged man and woman standing near the door.

  "Are you Miss Kerns?" The southern drawl in the accusing woman's voice make the hair on Iris' neck stand up out of wariness.

  "Yes. May I help you?" Iris asked a second time, more to th
e point this time.

  "Miss Iris Kerns from the Kerns Plantation in Louisville, Kentucky?" The woman's right eyebrow slid up the same time as a smirk surfaced after her words.

  Dread filled Iris' chest. This woman knew who Iris was and looked happy to reveal something vindictive about her.

  "We recently moved here from Louisville. My husband is the new barber in town. My sister mails me articles for The Louisville Times so I can keep up with news from home. One of the articles that caught my attention in today's mail was the announcement that the daughter of the late Master Ruddell Kerns was to marry Milton Morris and then leave on their honeymoon trip to San Francisco. This event happened about a month ago."

  Did Iris meet this woman in church? Otherwise, how would she know who she was? Anyway, she was going to ruin Iris' reputation without any real facts or care in the world.

  “We lived in Louisville for years and I don’t remember Master Kerns having a daughter, except for the illegitimate child he had with a slave woman.”

  "Mr. and Mrs. Tolbert. Welcome to my new photography studio. Did you want to schedule a family portrait? Or one in front of your new barbershop?" Fergus must have slipped in the back door of the building and heard the woman questioning her.

  Iris sensed Fergus presence with relief. Luckily, he knew all about Milton Morris so this Mrs. Tolbert couldn't spring anything new on him.

  "Um. No."

  "Why not? I'd love to capture the images of you two and your dear children." Iris looked at Fergus trying to figure out his syrupy words to the negative woman.

  Oh yes, they had two bratty children. Both thought they were above the other children to play together with them after church.

  Mrs. Tolbert took a big breath before bursting out, "Mr. Reagan, do you know this woman is an illegitimate mulatto? And she's run away from her husband?"

  Iris cringed at the woman's vile words and accusations. Iris wanted to run into the darkroom and never come out.

  "Mrs. Tolbert." Fergus sternly ground out the woman's name to get her attention. "I never want to hear you use those words to describe my assistant again."

  "But—"

  "Mr. Tolbert, please take your wife out of my business if she's going to be rude to my employee."

  "Well, why is she here in Kansas when the newspaper said she was married and on her way to San Francisco?" Mrs. Tolbert was still sniffing for answers.

  "Plans change, Mrs. Tolbert, and I strongly suggest you never utter a bad word about Miss Kerns again."

  "But she's a—"

  "Single woman, now living and working in Clear Creek, Kansas." Fergus glared at the older woman. "Mr. Tolbert? I believe you and your wife were leaving?"

  Iris had never seen Fergus mad, but he was obviously furious that he had to rationalize Iris being in his studio to other townspeople.

  Iris fled to the workroom, not able to stand the accusations in the Tolbert's eyes or the pitying in Fergus'. She waited to hear the bell's announcement that the Tolberts had left before turning around, knowing Fergus was standing in the room close by her.

  "I'm sorry Mrs. Tolbert attacked you, Iris. She's had a chip on her shoulder since arriving in town."

  Iris kept her arms wrapped around her middle, unable to turn toward Fergus for fear he'd see her shame.

  "I know why you left Morris, and I don't blame you. The bruises told me the story of your time together even if you didn't spell out the details. But..."

  "No, I told you the truth. I didn't marry Morris in Kentucky. I wouldn't even 'jump the broomstick' with the man much to my brother's dismay." Iris shivered remembering the preacher arriving at the plantation with Morris, her brother setting up the "exchange" without her knowing it.

  "Why was the announcement in the newspaper? I thought you said you were an 'exchange' for a debt." Iris turned to answer his questions. Fergus looked confused but not angry with her. Would he understand?

  "My brother put the announcement in the paper to force Morris to accept me instead of money." Iris waved her hands trying to explain it. "You know if you see it in print, it's supposed to be true, just as Mrs. Tolbert insisted."

  "But why didn't Morris insist on the wedding before you left then?"

  "When I balked, he thought he could convince me on the trip to marry him before we reached our honeymoon destination."

  Iris tightened her posture when Fergus placed his hands on her shoulders, but then relaxed, knowing Fergus was giving her comfort.

  "I'm guessing the Tolberts knew about the Kerns Plantation. Was it a big place?"

  "One of the biggest in the area. I told you about the plantation's horses being in the Kentucky Derby, so my father and brother were well known in the circuit."

  Fergus turned her to face him, and then motioned for them to sit down on the chairs by the worktable. He rubbed his right hand over his mouth, a trait Iris noticed he did when he was worried.

  "I hate to bring this up, but since Morris was looking for you in Nebraska, I'm guessing he doesn't want to go on to San Francisco or back to Louisville without you." Fergus serious stare and words unnerved her. She hadn't thought Morris would keep looking for her once she was out of Nebraska.

  "How could he find me here though?" Iris wanted Fergus to assure her it wasn't possible Morris would find her in Clear Creek. She really liked living with the Reagans and everyone had been so friendly, at least until the Tolberts today.

  "He could say you stole something from him—money most likely—so a wanted poster could be sent out, along with telegrams to the lawmen in Nebraska and the surrounding states. Would he think you'd travel back to Kentucky?"

  "I have no clue what he'd think because I had no plans to do anything but disappear permanently." Iris hated to think how she'd wanted to kill herself that day. Out of habit, she rubbed her left temple. Life was so sweet in Clear Creek now with budding friends and an interesting job.

  "I think we need to be a step ahead of trouble if it comes this way. I'll talk to Marshal Wilerson to alert him of a possible problem with Morris. And I’ll ask Angus and Cullen to be on the lookout for posters and telegrams coming through the post office or depot."

  Fergus was quiet for a long pause and Iris looked up, realizing he was staring at her lips. Why? She knew she had a nervous habit of biting her lower lip, then running her tongue over it to sooth it.

  He quickly darted his eyes when he realized he was staring and stood up.

  "I'll talk to the Tolberts too, to end any further gossip being spread by them." Fergus was already walking toward the back door and reaching for his coat on the hook near the back entrance.

  "Are you sure it's a good idea?" Iris panicked at the thought of what the Tolberts could do to her and to Fergus. They could ruin Fergus' studio business before it really started.

  "Oh, I won't go by myself." A confident, cocky grin spread across Fergus' face. "The Pastor and his wife will be along to be sure they commit no further sins." Fergus settled his black hat on his head and touched the wide brim of it with his finger before walking out the door.

  ***

  "You know you're falling for her," Mack accused Fergus, shaking a finger at him. "Just as well admit it, brother."

  Now Fergus was biting his lower lip so he didn't swing at Mack—or Angus or Cullen—who all sat grinning like fools at him. Or maybe he was a fool for falling in love with a woman "on the run".

  He'd promised to pay for supper at the café if they'd all meet together to talk about Iris' problem. If he had asked to meet at the parsonage, then his parents would have been in on the conversation and Ma would have furnished the meal, instead of him having to pay for it.

  No, that wouldn't have worked, as Ma didn't make big meals anymore, except for Sunday dinner when they were all invited over to eat as a family. Plus Iris would have been at the supper table with them.

  Nope, it was worth paying for his brothers’ supper to keep this conversation between them—and Nolan—who was working in the café this evening.<
br />
  "Iris is a nice woman in a possibly bad situation and you know Pa taught us to help others." Fergus wanted to pound his fist on the table to make his point but then everyone else in the diner would look where they were sitting in the back of the café.

  "And..." Mack rolled his left index finger practically in front of Fergus' face.

  "And I like Iris. There. You satisfied?" Fergus glared at Mack who just smiled.

  "Yep. Brother number three is going to be the next son to move 'to the back of the church'."

  Cullen groaned and shook his head at Mack's announcement.

  "What's he talking about?" Fergus looked between his brothers to clarify Cullen's remark.

  "Back a while ago Pa announced he couldn't see the congregation because of all his tall sons in the front row at church, so we needed to get married and move to the back of the church with the young families." Cullen explained. "Of course Ma is hinting she wants grandchildren too."

  Huh. Well, their Pa did have a point. No senior citizens, children—or anyone under six foot—could see past them when they all stood shoulder to shoulder in the front pew beside their ma. It'd just been that way since they were little and they hadn't thought of how all their tall stature changed the viewing of—or lack of viewing—the altar.

  Actually, he could see himself with Iris in the back. He'd have his arm laying on the back of the pew, wrapped around Iris' shoulders...maybe keeping an eye on the infant cuddled in her arms.

  "Hey, you're daydreaming, Fergus. Play attention!" Mack snapped his fingers in front of Fergus' face, causing him to blink away from his vision.

  "What?" Drat. His brothers were grinning at him again.

  "We were talking about the most obvious solution of Morris not having any 'claim' on Iris." Cullen impatiently explained.

  "Which is?" Fergus rolled his finger in front of Mack's face for spite.

  "Marry her." Mack shrugged his broad shoulders while looking like Fergus was the dunce of the family.