Connor growled in frustration. “I’ve finally put much of it together. Bowes’ description of the accident, the loss of his wife and their family’s troubles thereafter, set me to remembering and worrying about things. Dreams of the accident, and my part in it, haunted me for years. Still do to some degree, I guess.”
“I can remember yer nightmares, and Ma running to yer room to calm ye down, while ye fought with yer inner demons.” Egan leaned over and patted his horse on the neck. “Och, laddie you’ve been such a good mount.”
Connor sighed deeply. “I remember it, too, all too well. But I blocked the most of it out of my mind the day Bowes took off in the wagon with those wee lasses sitting atop all their worldly goods. Their wee faces haunted me for years.”
Egan shook his head. “Funny, little as I was, I remember that day meself. I remember ye holding on to me while I cried.”
Anger surfaced in Connor’s voice. “Our da’s complicity in the lottery scheme perturbs me. What if you or one of our brothers won the damned thing and were forced to go to America for a deed I did?”
“You did nothing.” Egan suddenly howled with laughter and turned in his saddle to face Connor. “And all the time…I thought you thought…it was a punishment. This coming to America, to marry a lady sight unseen.”
Connor smiled. Egan’s ability to make him laugh at himself was good medicine. “No more…”
Still chortling to himself, Egan moved ahead of Connor and cocked his head to one side. “Con, listen. Over there.” He waved his hand. “On the other side of the road. Hear it? ‘Tis a stream bubbling away.” Egan pointed to a splash of silver they could see from where they were.
Connor brought his horse to a stop and got off. “’Tis better we walk our horses over. In case something jumps out of those trees,” he said, pointing to a small path through the field. He started moving in the direction of the stream, cutting across a broad field, his gaze focused on the ground. “Thanks be to God in all His glory for that moon.”
Egan followed and the two tramped swiftly to the water, keeping their horses close. Connor slid the bit out of the bay’s mouth and controlled him with the reins around his neck. The animals were eager to reach the stream and drank their fill of the cool water.
Connor put the bit back in the bay’s mouth and handed him to Egan. “Here, hold him for a minute.”
He moved to the creek, cupped his hands to reach down into the cool water and drank. He lifted more liquid into his hands and tossed it over his head and neck. He rubbed more on his face then held Egan’s horse. When finished, the brothers walked back to the road with the two animals.
Connor put his foot in the stirrup and eased himself above the horse’s saddle. He slid into it softly. “We’ll walk the horses a bit more.”
Watching Egan swing up and on with ease caused Connor to smile broadly at his youngest brother. “’Tis glad to see you I am. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed your fiery temper, your constant joking and teasing.”
“’Tis glad I am to be with ye, too. I’ve missed ye. Had to take a leave from me duties on the force, ye know. I didn’t plan to leave the City for Saratoga, not so soon, Not even for the racing. Although I admit, I’ll be glad to be watching some of them.”
Egan sighed with no posturing or pretense in his demeanor. “Wish we had one of our horses in the field of those races. It would almost make staying in America worth it.” Egan chuckled to himself. “Who’d ever think I’d say I miss the grand beasts?”
“Me.” Connor supplied. “Now, tell me something. I know you didn’t want to say too much in front of Bowes. How did you find out about the stolen money?”
“Morrissey,” was Egan’s swift response. “He’s had dealing with Ludwig Dewitt for years. The man owes him a great deal of money. Ludwig gambles, in big chunks, if what I heard, from Morrissey and the banker, is true. Neither one would have cause to lie to me.”
“And that’s what the Dewitts have been using young Rob’s money for? Gambling debts? I know our too-trusting Sinead never considered the idea there was wealth involved in transferring the lad to her custody.”
“The Dewitts must have kept the terms of Cavanaugh’s will from her.” Egan looked sideways at Connor. “Do ye intend to tell her?”
Connor nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis the lad’s money and hers to use as they need. The decision, of where they might want to live and how, belongs to them, regardless of how it might affect me.” He cast an anxious glance at the sky, the diminishing stars and descending moon. His desire to set things right for Sinead, down to the smallest detail of her life, urged him on. Perhaps, then she could love him freely. He legged his horse and shouted to Egan in almost a challenge. “Let’s pick up the pace…”
Egan shouted back over the sound of fierce hoof beats on the hard packed road. “Have ye made up yer own mind, Con? About Sinead, I mean.”
“Aye. But first things first,” Connor shrieked into the wind made by the fast pace. “Let’s see the judge, hand Sinead the papers, rightfully hers, and see what she has in mind for the rest of her life.”
“Do ye love her?” Egan screamed to his brother.
Connor let loose with a laugh that traveled backwards to Egan and his horse. It bounced off the misty woods near the road. It sent both horses to skittering and picking up their pace another notch.
“I think the question is, how much?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monday, August 3, 1863
Sinead passed the remainder of the night going from the house to the tent and back again. Every muscle ached from all the excess walking, climbing the stairs and struggling through the spongy grass of the field, not to mention the lack of sleep. Memories warred with her misery and impotent fury with herself. It was difficult to keep the slowly sagging spirit up.
Dawn came and left the makings of a glorious day for the race program. Shortly, it too was gone in a blaze of hot, bright sunlight. Still no sign of Connor.
With a measure of mercy, Robbie was quiet, not questioning everything, as if he sensed the unease. In a state of mindlessness and, while blinking back tears, Sinead went through the motions of motherhood and fed both Robbie and Essie breakfast. She ate nothing herself but sipped several cups of tea. Between each cup, she stood, stared out the living room window and watched the activities below. No Connor in sight.
She took a bath and changed her outfit several times, in an attempt to look like nothing was wrong in her life. Now, it was time to pull herself up by the laces on her short boots. She played with fire by getting herself entangled in a poor scheme and got burned, but life went on and on and on…
By nine in the morning, Bowes and Pegeen returned to the house. Pegeen made Sinead change to yet another dress, one more appropriate for a race day. Pegeen picked out hats for the both of them, telling the girl, “Shade will be a necessity, child.”
When Sinead continued to move through the room, a broken puppet on a string, Pegeen asked, “What’s wrong, child?”
“Nothing…nothing is wrong,” Sinead responded like a sulky child.
Pegeen stared at her strangely. “Well, I can understand you might not want to confide in me. Perhaps, it would be better to wait for your da and the men. Let’s retire to the main room to wait for them.”
“There won’t be any men, other than my da,” Sinead said quietly as she left the bedroom and hurried to the front of the house.
No sooner than she settled in a hard-backed chair, her da flew through the door Robbie, no doubt, left open. “Where are the boyos? I searched the barns for them. Looked everywhere, called out…”
“They’re gone,” Sinead replied.
“Gone? What in hell’s name do ye mean, gone?”
Pegeen came into the room. “Bowes, hush, man.”
“What do ye mean ‘hush’? The lads are gone, she’s been saying,” he said pointing to Sinead. “I sure as hell am wanting to know what she did to the glorious gentleman I picked out for her.”
> “Bowes, please. The lass is hurting. Can’t ye see for yerself, man?”
Sinead decided to end the conversation, the discussion going on about her. “’Tis not what I did, more like what I didn’t do…”
Her father glared but the expression changed. She knew her eyes were red-rimmed, her face haggard, but she didn’t care. Nothing meant anything at the moment. She just wanted to get through this day to the next.
“Well, let’s us go ahead to the races. I’m sure the lads will show up before the end of the first day,” Pegeen said. She took Bowes arm and practically dragged him out of the house.
Sinead called, “Robbie. Essie. I’ll see you after the races…”
Robbie ran into the room for a hug. Sinead kissed the top of his head. “My darling boy. At least, I have you.”
“Where’s my da? He usually comes to tell me goodbye.”
“Well, he’s gone missing today,” Sinead responded, hearing the tears in her voice. “Go out and kiss your grandda Bowes instead.”
“I want my da. He’s going to get me a dog. A red and white one. He told me so.”
“Later, darling. I’ll get you one. Go play.”
It was ten before they left Essie in charge of Robbie and Harry in charge of the barns. Pegeen, Bowes and Sinead squeezed into the single-horse shay and were on the road to Horse Haven, Morrissey’s new rendition of the former Saratoga Trotting Course.
By the time they neared the track, their progress stopped as carriages flowed up Union Avenue, one after the other in a parade. Large signs nailed to trees proclaimed the opening of Saratoga’s first thoroughbred racing meeting. The occupants of the carriages, dressed in the most splendid finery, vied for position to get through the gate. Those on foot managed get through with considerable more ease.
At the sight of some of the wealthiest people in America, riding to the track with them, Pegeen squealed, “Och, Sweet Jaysus, this is the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t believe I’ve gazed on this many of the rich, all in one place.” She giggled once, brought her hand to her mouth but couldn’t stop the lilting laughter.
Sinead said nothing. She remained motionless, fading away from all activity. She didn’t want to be here, perhaps needing to fend off the questions about Connor’s absence from the sport everyone knew he loved. If she could carry off this day with dignity and skill, she’d survive the experience as she did so many others in her life. Each time her composure left her, she struggled to regain it, yet tears of despair threatened to spill from her eyes at any moment.
Bowes stopped the carriage at the opening gate and paid the three dollars for race cards, handing one to Pegeen. He gave one to Sinead, who let it fall to her lap and put folded hands over it.
The carriage moved ahead slowly, and was caught up in the trail of several others. Dust flew into the air, tossed by carriage wheels. The excitement generated by the noisy racing crowd was a palpable force, moving in undulating waves like the tides of the sea.
Pegeen laughed and clapped her hands together. She pointed to several of the woman who had arrived earlier and placidly sat in carriages along the route. “Look at their outfits. Seems like each one is trying to outdo the other and start a new elegance in fashion. Who would be wanting to wear a ball gown to a dirty, dusty place like the races?”
Sinead looked around without responding to Pegeen’s enthusiasm. There was no place to sit, no grandstand. The three of them would need to stay in the carriage, which Bowes settled as close to the track area as he could get.
Most of the wealthy or famous received the best places to park. Many men deserted their women and strolled about the grounds, exclaiming about each feature.
“The views are terrible,” one husky man, wearing a large, bright diamond pin on his checkered vest, and whose hair was slicked back with grease, shrieked. “Look there.”
His companion, as tall and thin as the other was hefty, wore an almost identical outfit. “Those buildings are in the way. We’ll not be able to see the whole race.”
Another group of men, well dressed, clustered by the rail and discussed the track’s inadequacies quietly. A gray-haired man spoke first. “Those recently-planted pine trees are in the way as well as those barns over there. They’ll need to be taken down if we’re to continue using this track.” He turned to a young man who wrote in a notebook. “Are you taking all this down?”
“Yes, sir, Mister Wheatly. Yes, sir,” said the man taking notes.
“The stables will need to go somewhere else, too,” Wheatly said. “They block the view.”
Another in the same group added, “The track is not laid out too well either.”
“Hell, Anderson,” Wheatley retorted, “What do you expect when the track was built by a gambler, not a horseman?”
Anderson laughed. “At least the opening race will be historic, a winner-take-all sweepstakes for three-year-olds.”
The young note taker added, “Two major races today, starting with the best-of-three one-mile heats and followed by a two-mile dash.” Anderson and Wheatly glared at him and he grew silent.
Wheatly leaned over to speak in Anderson’s ear. “Eight of the owners contributed two-hundred dollars to enter. Morrissey himself put in an additional three hundred. Six of those entered already cancelled and will pay a forfeit fee.” He shook his head and chuckled.
Someone in the crowd jostled him and he, too, grew silent. Nothing deterred the waiting, watching crowds, who moved in great clumps along the rail and the infield, elbowing and shoving others out of the way in their anxiety to see the races started.
Finally, at 11:30, the horses went off at the word, “Go.”
Sinead heaved a sigh, glad the action started and people stopped analyzing each other. Everyone would watch the race, their eyes focused on the track. Hopefully, no one would glance in her direction.
The screaming and shouting all around her, throughout each race, was deafening. She shrunk from the noise. Its cacophony reminded her of the shrieking gangs in New York City during the riots.
Fortunately, after each race, the horses were walked and cooled down before the crowd for about twenty minutes before being tested again by running in the second heat. The noise abated some while folks chattered together in more normal tones.
Sinead knew she, too, would be caught up in the excitement of the crowd if she weren’t looking for Connor. Every tall, well-built man she saw gave her heart a solid kick. Connor was nowhere to be seen on the grounds. The races were nearly over and he missed most of them.
That fact alone impressed upon her he was truly and finally gone from her life. The thought carved at her innards with a vengeance born of lost hope.
Suddenly, a glimpse of bright red hair caught her eye. Her heart skipped several beats. Egan? She wanted to wave to him, to call out but was mummified with fear. Perhaps, the O’Malleys, came to enjoy the races with no intentions of coming to her. If it weren’t for Egan’s red hair and superior height, she might have missed seeing him.
Connor turned away from the track and leaned against a railing, put there to contain the crowd and give horses enough running room. Taller than most, he scanned the crowd.
Sinead stood, put her hand up a little way to wave but pulled it down before Connor saw her. She sank back down onto the seat. It hurt her to look at him.
Pegeen leaped to her feet. “Connor. Egan. Here we are…” She waved with vigor.
Sinead watched Pegeen step out of the carriage with a light step and search for Bowes. “Bowes, wait for me. I need to speak with you,” she called, her voice trailing off the further into the crowd she went.
Connor materialized, at the carriage, his jaw clenched. “Sinead, love…?” His voice sounded breathless, shaky and ground her soul to nothingness.
Her heart flew out to him. Without thinking further, all thoughts of dignity gone to dust, Sinead leaped from her seat and launched herself into his arms to still her trembling. Her lips closed in on his neck, and she mumble
d into it. “Och, Connor. I’ve been so worried. Where have you been? I thought you left. Left me, to go back to Ireland.”
She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t stop talking. “I have so much to tell you. I can’t bear it all.” Standing on the tips of her little boots, she pulled his face toward her and rained kisses on it, afraid if she stopped he would disappear from sight again.
“Easy, love, ‘tis only a moment until the races are over and we can have a private chat. I’ve much to tell you as well.”
Never was she so eager to give herself wholly to anyone. “Connor, there must be hacks for hire outside the track. Let’s take one home. Let Egan stay here to wait for Pegeen and my da. I need to get away from this crowd. I need to be with you. I’m suffocating with the worry inside me.” She kept kissing his face.
“All right, lass. You stay here. I’ll make the arrangement and come back for you.” The kiss he gave her promised more to come—before he was finished with her.
~*~
Connor paid the hack driver and said, “Wait here. I want you to take my son and his nanny to the Bide-with-Us in the village. ‘Tis on Circular.”
He lifted Sinead down and said, “Wait on the porch. Let me handle Rob and Essie.” He disappeared inside the house. Within minutes, he reappeared with Robbie and Essie, both carrying small sacks of clothing with them.
“Mama,” Robbie screamed, dashing to her. He clutched her skirt in a hug. “Da says he’s going to take you to a big party tonight, so Essie and I are going to Grandda Bowes.”
“That’s lovely, darling. You’ll be having a grand old time yourself, with Pegeen, too. Be sure to be a good laddie…”
“I will. And he’s going to get my dog after the races are over,” he said in his squeaky little boy’s voice. Connor went to lift him in and Robbie swiveled around. He stared up at Connor. “I can do it. I’m a big boyo now.”
He turned back, clutched the sides of the carriage and drew himself up onto the step. There he turned and waved at them before jumping up into a seat. Essie followed him up and waved to Sinead. “Have a lovely time.”
1863 Saratoga Summer Page 36