by Kit Morgan
She smiled in relief. At least he didn’t think her some sort of hellion.
“Oh, Majorrrrrrr!” a woman called shrilly from inside.
Honoria watched his shoulders slump and his face droop. She tried to look past him, but she already knew who was calling his name. He stepped aside and, sure enough, Miss Lucretia Lynch hurried over and grabbed his arm. “Major honey, come look at this fabric! Why, it’s just about the prettiest thing I ever did see.”
A chill went up Honoria’s spine as she watched the woman pull him from the door. But his eyes never left hers until he was forced to turn as he followed Miss Lynch to a display table stacked with bolts of fabric. That was a good sign … she hoped.
She stood and watched the pair until the sound of the noon stage caught her attention. She turned and waved as Willie the stage driver pulled up in front of the mercantile and brought his team to a stop. He had a huge grin on his face, and she hoped he had some mail for the ranch – maybe even a letter from Uncle Duncan and Aunt Cozette. She finally stepped inside but left the door open for Willie.
“Well, if it ain’t Honoria!” Grandma Waller said as she watched her approach the counter. “Welcome back.”
“Hello, Grandma,” Honoria said as she watched Miss Lynch giggle, still latched onto Major’s arm like a prison iron. She tried not to be sick and looked at Mr. Dunnigan instead. “Willie just pulled up.”
Wilfred checked his watch. “Huh. He’s late. That doesn’t happen often.”
Grandma shrugged. “It’s not like we’re waiting for anything special to arrive.”
“Not even me?” a man called from the doorway. Honoria looked up at the unfamiliar voice, to see an unfamiliar man standing there.
But he wasn’t unfamiliar to Wilfred, who immediately gasped. “Great jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, what are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The man took a few steps forward. He was huge, very well-dressed and spoke with an accent. His eyes locked on Grandma. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
Honoria watched in shock as Grandma’s lower lip trembled. She sobbed, “Why you … you old polecat! Ya never write! We hain’t heard from … from you in ages, then ya go and …” She stopped, overwhelmed by her tears.
The man approached and opened his arms wide. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Andel Berg, you surprised me all right! I’m surprised ya didn’t give me a heart attack!” Grandma ran into his arms and wrapped her own around his waist, resting her head against his broad chest.
“I missed you too, Grandma!” He lifted her off her feet, spun a full circle and began to laugh himself silly.
“Mr. Berg…” Honoria whispered in recollection, a smile on her face. The Mr. Berg?!
Footsteps stomped down the stairs behind the curtain. “Uh-oh! You’re in trouble now!” Wilfred laughed.
“Who’s that?” Irene Dunnigan barked as she came down the stairs. “Who’s down there?” She burst through the curtains, stopped and gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. To everyone’s amazement she didn’t say another word, but launched herself at the giant. Once she had her arms around him, she joined Grandma in weeping – something Honoria had never seen her do.
But then, Honoria had never seen Andel Berg, former royal guardsman, former Clear Creek blacksmith, now Prince Consort of the Kingdom of Dalrovia, come to town. She’d only heard the stories. And as she watched him hug the two old women, a happy smile on his ruggedly handsome face, she suspected that all the stories were true.
Chapter 8
When Andel finally let the women go, Wilfred came around the counter, held out his hand and offered it to the big man. “Tarnation, but it’s good to see you!” He looked past them to the door. “Where’s Maddie?”
“Outside, bossing everyone around. I’ll go get her.”
“No need, I’ll do it.” Wilfred laughed and went outside.
Honoria stood and stared. Her mother described Mr. Berg to look as if he’d been carved out of marble and he certainly did. His golden hair was shoulder length, his jaw laced with golden stubble. Mr. Berg noticed her staring at him. His piercing blue eyes glinted with surprise. “You look familiar, young lady. Should I know you?”
Grandma slapped his arm. “That there’s little Honoria Cooke!
Mr. Berg took a step back. “Harrison’s daughter? I’ve not seen you since your parents brought you to Europe as a babe.”
Honoria curtsied. “How do you do, Your Highness?”
The big man burst out laughing. “Oh, none of that ‘Your Highness’ here – if you’re a Cooke, you’re family. And I’m doing very well, except I’m hungry.” He looked at Mrs. Dunnigan. “Any chance you’ve made that famous pot roast of yours?”
“Just happen to have one in the oven,” she said through her tears and hugged him again.
Honoria noticed Major and Miss Lynch were staring at the scene, just as fascinated.
Mr. Berg finally noticed them. “And whom might you be?”
“Major Quincy Comfort, at your service sir.”
Mr. Berg bowed. “Andel Berg, at yours.” He straightened. “And the lady?”
Miss Lynch gripped Major’s arm tighter, making him wince. “Miss Lucretia Lynch.” She stared at him, obviously trying to make sense of his recent words with Honoria. Finally she said, “My, what a funny little accent you have!”
“Indeed,” Mr. Berg replied. And he did, but Honoria knew he would. He was of some sort of Scandinavian descent, she recalled.
The bell above the door rang and Wilfred re-entered, a pretty blonde-haired woman on his arm. “Look who I found outside!”
Grandma and Mrs. Dunnigan left Mr. Berg for the newcomer, throwing their arms around her and speaking at once. “Maddie!” And the waterworks started all over again.
“Why can’t they do that outside?” Miss Lynch objected. “Such emotional displays are hardly dignified!”
“You’ll have to excuse us, ma’am,” Wilfred said. “We hain’t seen the Bergs in years. In fact, this is the first time they’ve set foot in Clear Creek like normal folks since they left us back in ‘59.”
“Like … normal folks?” Miss Lynch repeated, still confused.
Grandma and Mrs. Dunnigan let go of Maddie. Honoria watched as she joined her husband and gave him a hug. “It’s good to be back,” she said. Honoria smiled at their height difference – Queen Madeleina Van Zuyen barely came up to her husband’s chest.
Mrs. Dunnigan wiped away her tears. “Don’t you go away – I’m gonna run upstairs and check on that pot roast!”
“We wouldn’t think of it,” Mr. Berg said with a smile.
“Land sakes, I gotta find Doc!” Grandma cried. “He’ll want to know you’re here!”
Mr. Berg laughed. “We’ll come by the house for a visit, I promise. I’ve missed your cookies.”
Grandma held Maddie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll start a batch for him right away.” She kissed the younger woman on the cheek and hurried from the mercantile, tears in her eyes.
“Well, we really must be going,” Miss Lynch said trying to pull Major toward the door.
But all she succeeded in doing was losing her death-grip on his arm. Taking advantage of his new-found freedom, he went over to Honoria. “How are you?”
Honoria’s eyes darted between the two. “Very well, thank you.” She fixed her gaze on him. “And you?” She was afraid to ask, but did it anyway. So much for the need to find Fanny Fig to obtain information – it was obvious the pair were courting.
“I’m well,” he said, his eyes locked on hers as he rubbed the feeling back into his arm.
Miss Lynch sighed in annoyance and pretended to study the goods behind the counter.
“And your brothers?” Honoria asked, if only to keep him talking. Maybe she’d find out if they’d set a wedding date.
“They’re all fine. Michael and Darcy are in town, down at the livery stable.”
“So is my father. I’m sure they�
��ve said hello.” She glanced at the Bergs, who along with Wilfred were watching them with interest.
“Major!” Miss Lynch said with a frown. “We really must be going!”
“You can go on if you’d like,” he replied, not even looking at her. “You know the way back to the hotel.”
Her mouth dropped open as she gasped. “Well, I never! What has gotten into you?” She looked at Honoria, then muttered, “I see. Well, I’ll just wait for you at the hotel, then. I’m sure you’re not so ungentlemanly as to cancel your lunch with Daddy and me.”
He still didn’t glance at her. “Of course not. If you must know, Miss Cooke took a horrible fall a few weeks ago and I wanted to know how she’s doing.”
“She just told you how she’s doing. What else did you want to know?”
He finally looked – glared – her way. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”
Mr. Berg shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest, still listening with interest. He looked at each of them in turn and arched an eyebrow.
Honoria hoped the giant didn’t butt in. “I don’t want to keep you if you have somewhere you need to be,” she told Major.
“You’re not keeping me from anything important,” he said.
“Not important!” Miss Lynch huffed. “Major Comfort! You … you … oh, forget it! I’ll see you at the hotel!” She went to the door and turned, one hand on the knob. “And don’t be late!” She left, slamming the door behind her.
“Patience is not one of that woman’s virtues, is it?” Mr. Berg stated to no one in particular. He smiled at his wife, kissed the top of her head and turned back to Honoria and Major. It was clear he didn’t mind reminding them that they had an audience.
Honoria begin to fidget. “Perhaps I’d better go, too. I have to meet my father.”
“You ain’t given me your list yet,” Wilfred pointed out. “You did come in here to buy something, didn’t you?”
Honoria closed her eyes and held her breath. Could she have made herself look any more foolish? Well, probably, but better not to think about it. She opened her eyes and reached into her reticule as she turned back to the counter. “Sorry, Wilfred.”
He chuckled and took the paper from her hand. “I’ll get right on this.” He looked at them. “Don’t stop talking on my account.”
“Heaven forbid,” Major said. He glanced at the Bergs, then turned back to Honoria, looking much more relaxed now that Miss Lynch had departed. “We’re getting along, my brothers and I. Pleasant is in town as well – she should be here any minute.”
“Good, I’d love to see her. I haven’t been in town for quite some time.”
He lowered his voice. “Your punishment?”
She felt her cheeks grow hot. “You could say that.”
“I’m sorry. I guess this means there’s no chance for a rematch.”
She giggled and shook her head. “My poor father would have a heart attack.”
Major’s eyes flicked once more to the Bergs and back. “Are they going to stand there and watch us the entire time?”
“I think they’re just being polite.”
“I think they’re being nosy,” he whispered with a low chuckle. “Who are they?”
“Close friends of my family. They’ll probably be at the ranch tomorrow. My father’s going to be so excited when he sees them.”
“Now there’s something I’d like to witness,” he said with a smile.
She smiled shyly, feeling ten years old again. “Mr. Berg is kind of famous in these parts.”
“Famous?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper again. “How so? What did he do?”
Wilfred leaned over the counter. “He was the blacksmith,” he whispered. “And he can probably hear you.”
Major and Honoria both glanced at Mr. Berg, who stood, a happy smile on his face. He nodded and grinned in acknowledgment. Major straightened, went to him and offered his hand. Mr. Berg took it and gave it a healthy shake. “I hope you don’t mind my checking on Miss Cooke’s welfare,” he said.
“Not at all. I can see you are concerned over her.”
“Have you lived here long?” Maddie asked. Honoria noticed her accent as well, but that was to be expected.
“Only since last spring,” Major explained.
“Him and his five brothers,” Wilfred tossed in.
“Five?” Mrs. Berg said with raised eyebrows.
“They all live at the men’s camp outside of town,” Wilfred continued.
Major glanced over his shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of informing Mr. and Mrs. Berg of my affairs, Mr. Dunnigan.”
“Just trying to help,” Wilfred chuckled.
“So you’ve settled here,” Mr. Berg said. “You and your brothers must like Clear Creek.”
Major glanced over his shoulder again, this time at Honoria. She blushed and started to shop around the mercantile. “Yes,” he said. “We do like it here. Clear Creek is a nice little town.”
“That it is,” Mr. Berg agreed. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around. I look forward to meeting your brothers.”
“We’d best take care of business,” his wife said.
“Yes, I suppose so. Wilfred?”
“Yes?”
We have some business to take care of at the hotel but will be back in time for supper.” Mr. Berg looked up at the ceiling and said loudly, “tell your lovely wife I can’t wait to enjoy her pot roast again!”
“I heard that!” came a muffled reply from above.
Mr. Berg laughed, bowed, turned to his wife and headed toward the door.
But before they could open it, Paddy Mulligan came bursting through. “Bless me soul, it’s true! Ye really are here!”
“Mr. Mulligan!” Mr. Berg released his wife and let the other man hug him.
Mr. Berg smiled as they slapped each other on the back, Mr. Mulligan grunting each time. “It’s good to see you.”
Mr. Mulligan took a few steps back, coughing. “Not half as good as it is to see ye.” He turned. “Maddie!” Mr. Mulligan pulled her into his arms and hugged her as well, sans the slapping. “What a sight for sore eyes ye are. Wait until the Missus sees ye.” He looked up at Mr. Berg. “She’s baking pies today,” he said with an exaggerated wink then glanced around. “Have ye brought the wee ones with ye?”
“No, not on trips like this,” Mr. Berg said. “Perhaps when they’re older.”
“We’re sorry, Mr. Mulligan,” Maddie added. “Maybe next time.”
Mr. Mulligan sighed. “I understand. And gratified to know there will be a next time!”
The Bergs nodded and gave Mr. Mulligan another hug. “Wilfred?” Mr. Berg said.
“I understand. You get your business at the hotel taken care of and I’ll see you later. How about I invite Doc and Grandma?”
“And me and the Missus?” Mr. Mulligan asked, hopeful.
Wilfred rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right”
The others laughed as Maddie smiled. “That would be wonderful. It will be a nice visit with all of you.”
Mr. Berg guided his wife to the door alongside Mr. Mulligan who began chatting about the saloon. Once they left, the mercantile fell into silence.
Major and Honoria stared at each other a moment or two as Wilfred gazed longingly at the door. After a moment he straightened, wiped a tear from his eye and returned to work.
“Wilfred?” Honoria said. “Are you all right?”
“Got dust in my eye is all. You two go back to doing whatever it was you were doing.”
“Well,” Major said. “There are interruptions, and then there are interruptions.”
“Mr. Berg was hardly an interruption,” Honoria said. “Everyone in town will be talking about this. There’ll probably be a big party at the saloon or hotel this week.”
“A party?” Major said in surprise. “For the old blacksmith and his wife? Wait … you did say something about ‘Your Highness’ …”
Wilfred snort
ed in amusement behind the counter but continued to fill Honoria’s order.
“Yes, he’s not just a blacksmith.” She took a moment to think. “Well, it’s rather a long story. The short version is, he was a palace guard who lived here as a smith before I was born. But he’d been sent here to keep an eye on Maddie, who didn’t know she was the heir to the throne of this little country in Europe called Dalrovia. While he was here, he helped rescue my aunts, Mrs. Dunnigan and my mother from some outlaws. He and Maddie married – that’s a whole other story in itself – and now she’s a queen and he’s her consort. But I guess things are going well enough back home that they could afford the time to visit here again.”
“Is that so?” Major rubbed his forehead in surprise. “That is quite a story. Do you often get such … odd occurrences around here?”
“I suppose we do. My uncle Duncan inherited a duchy in England – my father and Uncle Colin can tell you all about that. There’s the Scotsman and his wife who show up now and then …”
“That would be Mr. MacDonald,” Wilfred said as he continued his work. “Ain’t seen him around since Duncan and Cozette came to visit the first time. Tarnation, that had to be back when Newton got married.”
“Newton Whitman Holmes,” Honoria elaborated. “You’re right, that’s when I met them. There was an African couple who came through a couple of times – not just Negroes, but actually from Africa. And of course, the time a mail-order bride arrived in town followed by her six brothers – that was a little odd, too,” she added with a smile.
Major laughed at that, then stopped. “Newton Whitman Holmes … I’ve heard the name before, but I’ve never met the man.”
“He and his wife Arya moved to England. They live with Duncan and Cozette now. So do Amon and Nettie Cotter – Nettie is Newton’s sister. Their father, Cutty Holmes, still lives in the area.”
Major glanced between them. “I knew this town had a heavy British influence, but is everyone planning to move to England?” He smiled wryly, indicating he was joking.
Honoria laughed. “I can’t imagine living anywhere but America. I’d love to visit England one day – I haven’t been since I was baby – but I don’t see it happening any time soon.”