There was no way to rebut the truth he spoke so I just sat quietly as he went on.
“I understand that you’re old enough to be doing such things, but I’ll have you know, those activities are best left for the marital bed. Can you imagine the mess you’d be in if you put your seed in that floozy’s womb?” He made a nasty face that was almost humorous. “No grandson of mine is going to lay his seed where he isn’t around to tend it, either. You aren’t going to do to no woman what your drunk of a father did to your mother.”
Shaking his head in disgust, he recited the tale I’d only heard once before, but had remembered plenty well. “Robert Hale worked here on my farm, he did. I treated him fair and paid him well, but here on my land, out in the barn that I built, that handsome devil worked his sinful magic over Maryanna’s rebellious soul. Respecting him as I did, I might have forgiven the trespass had he stepped up to marry her once she told him she was carrying his child, but rather, he ran off for the sea. I trusted him once and I was wrong. I’ve harbored a deep rooted hatred for the bastard ever since.”
“Grandfather,” Lace gasped. “You said it isn’t good for the heart to hate.”
“I speak from experience, my child. I know firsthand that it isn’t good, because to this very day, my tired ol’ heart swarms with blackness when I think of that man. And when he shows up on my doorstep, as he does every few years, drunk and whining about his woes, I do all I can to tame that devil on my shoulder that tempts me to shoot him between the eyes for doing what he did to my girl.
So, in case you’ve ever wondered, that’s why I never let him in. If he was sorry, he’d be sober, and if he truly gave a shit about you two, he’d come bearing more than his sea weathered, battle scarred face. But he don’t care about you two one bit. He’s a spineless, heartless coward who only cares about himself and what he has to gain. And I never wanted to risk your safety or your good conscience in his presence.
I’m sorry to trail off like that, but the point I mean to make is that unless you want to marry Bridget Dudley, and care for every breath of life she takes thereafter, then you shouldn’t be bedding her.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to marry her.”
“Then what are you doing with her, Mason?”
“Being an idiot.” I scratched my head.
“You’re better than that, my boy. And I expect you to make better choices in the future.”
“I will, sir.”
“Good. You’re growing to be a mighty fine man, Mason Bentley, and I want to see you do good things with your time here on earth. You do a fine job working these fields, and normally you take good care of your sister. Though I work you hard, I also like to give you a bit of freedom, but let it be known that it is not a birthright. It’s a reward. And I can revoke the privilege at any given moment. In fact, I reckon it’s going to be a while till you leave the property again.”
“Fair enough.” I accepted my punishment. “I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.”
He flicked my forehead. “Think with this head, my boy. Now, with that out of the way,” Grandfather leaned back on his stool, “I want to tell you what it was I went to town for, and it wasn’t just to buy that nice new shovel I chased them scallywags away with.” He looked at Lace. “This topic is for you, sweetheart.”
Her eyes brightened and she perked up with interest.
“Well, during our visit to Bristol last month, one of the men there found himself with a fancy for you. He rode all this way to find me just so he could ask for your hand in marriage.”
“ No!” Leaning back on her stool, she started scratching her arm.
The panic in her eyes made me want to ask Grandfather what he was thinking by upsetting her with this news, but not wanting to get hit again, I kept quiet.
“Who is he?” Lace asked.
“Mister Nathan Huxley, the man who owns the Stone House Inn, where we stay during our annual trips to Bristol. Remember him?”
“Yes. He’s old and has no teeth.” She touched her teeth with her shaky hand.
“Ah, he isn’t that old. It’s just all that grey hair makes him look aged beyond his years. But the teeth, well, there’s nothing I can say about that.” Grandfather laughed. “Still, The Stone House Inn is a nice place and everyone who knows Nathan says good things about him. I’ve enjoyed his company every time we’ve visited and I think you might want to consider the offer. You told me yourself how much you liked it by the big fireplace, and the walk along the harbor, so you might be able to have a nice life with him there.” The way he rambled on sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good idea. “In exchange for your hand, he offered me free room and board every time I visit.”
“Please don’t trade me, Grandfather.” Lace pleaded with tears in her eyes.
“We don’t need a free place to stay,” I barked defensively.
“Ah, calm your senses, both of you. I’m not exchanging anything without your consent, my girl.”
“I don’t want to marry Nathan Huxley.” She shook her head.
“All right.” Grandfather easily agreed, “I understand. I’ve told you both plenty of times that I want you to marry for love. That’s why I married your grandmother. Oh, how I loved that woman.” He drifted off for a moment, the way he always did when he thought of her. “It’s hard to believe she’s been gone twelve years now, but not a day has passed that I haven’t walked out to her grave to talk to her spirit. It’s important to me that the two of you find love like that. One you can’t imagine living without and one where you wonder why you’re still living once it’s gone.
Mason, you aren’t going to find that kind of love with a loose legged tramp, and Lace, you aren’t going to find it through a business trade. But I’m not going to be around to hold your hands forever, so I reckon you both get to looking. Especially you, Lace. One day your beef-witted brother will find himself a wife, and I’ll sleep better in my grave knowing that you have a good man to care for you when he and I can’t anymore.”
Standing up, Grandfather stretched out his long, muscular arms and yawned, “Now, if that isn’t a chuck load of good advice, I don’t know what is. But all these life lessons have made me a bit drowsy. I’m going to take a nap while you two get to work.”
He headed down the hall, and Lace pulled out the pot to start making stew, but before I made it to the door, I heard the dogs barking at the fence. Pulling back the curtain to take a peek, I thought of how only rich people had glass windows, but grandfather had made a trade with a glassblower years ago, so we were fortunate enough to have one. Now, I was able to peer through the framed glass, and across the yard to see the family of three heading up the road. “Shit. It’s Billy and his parents,” I whispered to Lace.
Having heard the dogs, Grandfather halted his stride and headed for the window he was so proud to own. After nudging me out of the way, he looked out and shook his head. “That ol’ gobermouch better not be interrupting my nap to cry about you marring the handsome face of her precious angel.”
Knowing how Mrs. Winston babied her youngest son, Lace and I both laughed.
“Snicker all you want later on, but keep your chops shut while I deal with this.” Grandfather went for the door.
Lace and I huddled together by the window, and watched through the lacy curtains as he opened the door and greeted Billy’s father. “Well, hello there, Mister Winston.”
Mister Winston—who never said much unless his wife was prodding him with her elbow—offered my grandfather a curt hello.
“Mrs. Winston.” Grandfather smiled at the short, round woman. “You look as lovely as the daffodils blooming by the fence.”
Knowing Grandfather was buttering her up, Lace and I looked at each other, wishing we could laugh.
Mrs. Winston’s fat, white cheeks reddened as she batted her eyelashes at my handsome grandfather. “I do appreciate the compliments, Sterling, but I came over to discuss a very important matter with you.”
“Oh, and what might that be?” He glared at Mister Winston, obviously preferring to discuss the matter with the man of the house.
“Look what your boy has done to our boy!” Mrs. Winston framed Billy’s battered face with her plump little hands.
His face was so red and swollen that I hardly recognized him.
Grandfather looked Billy over carefully. “Ah, looks like Mason cleaned him up good, aye?”
“Cleaned up?” Billy’s mother shrieked. “Mason beat upon Billy’s precious face like a dirty ol’ rug.”
“Hence, the cleanup statement.” Grandfather slapped his own knee.
“This is not a joke, Sterling Bentley! I know you’re raising these children on your own, and I’m sure it’s difficult for you at times.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Especially since your girl isn’t all there in the mind. But you can’t just let Mason go around beating on every boy she’s kissing, which seems to be every boy in town.”
“Now you wait just a minute there, miss. I know you think your Billy is some angel, and I’m not going to tell you otherwise, but you won’t be coming to my doorstep saying cruel and untrue things about my granddaughter.”
“I’m just relaying what my Billy tells me,” she snipped.
“Well, your Billy needs to watch his lying tongue before I cut it out.”
Gasping in horror, Mrs. Winston covered her heart. “How dare you threaten my boy, Sterling! And I’ll have you know that my Billy would never tell a lie. But as for your barbarian boy and your trampy little girl—”
“That’s enough!” Grandfather roared, “Close them bantering ol’ pipes afore I stick a potato down there to clog them up. And Billy, if you ever again lay but one greasy little finger on my girl, I’ll tie you behind my horse and drag you through the dirt so fast you’ll be wishing you were only choking on the rocks you shoved in Mason’s mouth.”
Considering how kind and considerate Grandfather usually was with the townsfolks, I was as stunned as Mrs. Winston looked to hear him saying such things at such a volume. And he wasn’t done. Pointing at the silent Mister Winston, he roared, “As for you, sir, I might do the same with you just for allowing me to talk to your wife and child this way in your presence.”
Mrs. Winston planted her hands on her bulging hips and stared at her husband like she just realized this was a problem.
Mister Winston shook his pale, bony face in dismay. It was plain to see that he was wondering if he feared his wife or my grandfather more. Finally deciding to take his chances with my grandfather, Mister Winston stuttered, “Well, Sterling Bentley, I’ll have you know…”
Just like he had to me earlier, grandfather reached out and popped Mister Winston on the mouth.
Grabbing his face, Mister Winston shrieked like a hurt little lassie, “How dare you!”
Grandfather shooed them away. “Get off my property. All of you. And remember, the pony ride I offered will be looking pretty in comparison to what I’ll do to you if those foul words about my Lace extend beyond this porch.”
Quiet as the night the Winston’s headed towards the gate, but as they walked down the dirt road we could hear Mrs. Winston cursing at her husband. Grandfather stood on the porch until they were out of sight.
Once he came back in, Lace and I jumped away from the window and sat ridiculously stiff on our stools like we hadn’t been eavesdropping.
Knowing plenty well we had watched the whole thing, Grandfather laughed, “You sneaky, sneaky little devils.”
Hopping to her feet, Lace ran over to hug him. “I didn’t kiss them, grandfather. Not one.”
“I know you haven’t. Because you’re a sweet girl, with a good heart, and you respect yourself.” He patted her head and asked her to take a seat.
When she sat down, I asked Grandfather, “Why did you swat Mister Winston like that?”
“Well, my boy,” Grandfather sat on his stool and lit his pipe, “For one, I was infuriated by not only Billy’s actions, but his mother’s nattering defense of them. For two, I simply can’t stand the way that wandought man just stands there like a puppet while his wife runs around sweeping up the dust from under other people’s rugs. Between the three of them, someone had to suffer, so I figured it’d be best to slap the man who isn’t man enough to keep his household in line. But lastly, and most importantly, I did it because I love you two more than anything in this world and anyone who tries to hurt you is going to be sorry they ever thought about it.”
He drew his pipe. “You see, before you came along, I loved your mother just the same. That beautiful girl took her first breath of life in these two arms. After she birthed you two into your grandmother’s hands, she took her last breath in this very same place.” Patting his arms, he closed his eyes like he was still holding her. Opening his green eyes, that were now wet with tears, he said, “You two are all I have left of her, and I reckon I’d fight the devil himself to keep you safe by my side.”
Chapter 2
His Good Name
Dirt. Dust. Mud. Silt. Whatever it was called, I’d never look at it the same now that it had claimed my grandfather’s body.
He died in his sleep last night. I dug his grave next to my mother’s and grandmother’s this morning. Lace made his cross in the afternoon. And now, in the dark of the night, with the cold autumn breeze whipping through the field, I stood by the mound of earth he laid beneath and wondered what in the world I was going to do next. I was now the head of the household. In my mind, I knew this day would eventually come, but my heart never could have fathomed the amount of pain I’d experience when it did.
Walking back to the house, I noticed that the night never seemed so dark, and lying down in my bed, I thought about how Lace’s bed never seemed so far away. It was now my sole responsibility to take care of her. Alone, I had to protect her from danger and her fears. Alone, I had to maintain the farm so she’d have food to eat. And alone, I’d have to keep the house standing solid so she’d have a roof over her head. In part, I had been doing these things all along, but the fact that her life and safety were now in my hands only, scared the hell out of me.
X
Alongside our friends and neighbors—who came and went, paying their respects and offering us any help we might need—Lace and I survived the first week without our grandfather. Throughout the following month, our closest neighbors, the Dawson’s and the Brown’s, did what they could to help us get going on our own. Abraham Dawson and Tom Brown helped me bring the cattle in each eve and assisted me when I fixed the barn door, while their wives made us dinner and helped Lace with the laundry. Well, they did the laundry for her while she hid in our room and mourned.
Even the Winston’s, who Grandfather had recently shooed off his porch in that fitful rage, came by once a week to bring us food, and Mrs. Winston cleaned the house so that Lace wouldn’t have to. Overall, the compassion shown to us during this difficult time assured me that Grandfather left us something far more valuable than his land, and that was his good name.
As the winter frost crept through the valley, I became accustom to my new routine and our neighbors returned to their old ones, but Lace made no such progress. She couldn’t seem to get her wits about her. When she wasn’t crying, she was staring off into space, and hadn’t spoken much of a word to anyone since the day I laid Grandfather’s body in the ground. Her distant behavior left me wondering if she would ever return to her duties, but for me, there was no choice.
On top of my own heavy workload, I ended up having to take on Lace’s chores to keep us afloat. Every few days, I’d have to wash our clothes, and each morning I’d straighten up the house, but worst of all, I had to cook us dinner every damn night. This chore bothered me the most. I despised it because I was so bloody tired after my hard day’s work in the field, but beyond that, I simply had no idea what I was doing. After burning, or over seasoning, and even under cooking my first few attempted meals, I finally started to figure things out, and was able to make som
e decent stew. It wasn’t great, and Lace winced with disgust as she ate it, but she didn’t hate it enough to start cooking again.
After another uncomfortably silent supper with my sister, I cleared the table, washed out the bowls, and went to bed. By this time in my life, I was too tired for mourning. I still missed my grandfather and I was worried about my sister, but sleep would claim my exhausted mind long before I had a chance to shed anymore tears over any of my troubles.
X
Rising with the dawn, I began preparing the fire so Lace would stay warm in the house while I was out feeding the livestock. She was still asleep, so I tried to keep quiet while positioning the kindling, but before I sparked the flint I heard the dogs barking outside. Curious to see who would be visiting so early, I popped up and peeked out the window.
To my surprise, Bridget Dudley was walking along the snow covered road. I hadn’t laid eyes on her since the day I’d promised Grandfather I’d make better choices, but looking at her now—bundled in her winter coat, with her dark hair blowing in the frosty breeze—I knew there was no way I’d be able to ignore her today. I put on my coat and hat and headed out to see what she wanted.
Meeting her at the gate, I opened it and welcomed her in. She instantly threw her arms around my neck. “I’ve missed you, Mason.”
Her face was cold against mine, but as she kissed my cheek her lips were as warm as the sun that hadn’t shone in days.
Though I knew she’d been anything but lonely since I last saw her, I found myself enjoying her affection much more than I should have, and ended up telling her I’d been missing her, too.
“Have you?” She backed out of my embrace. “That’s mighty sweet. Especially knowing you’ve been so busy, since uh, well, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. How are you and Lace doing?”
King of My Nightmare (King of My Nightmare, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 3