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An Unlikely Mother

Page 11

by Danica Favorite


  “Father,” Flora said quietly. “What do you make of George?”

  He looked at her, his typical indulgent expression missing from his face. “I think he’s a good man.”

  Then he shook his head. “But it’s a shame, the way things are. I know what you’re asking, and I think you have to ask yourself if pursuing that line of thinking is worth giving up everything that’s ever been important to you. The dances, the parties, the dresses.”

  Her father made her seem so shallow. If she truly loved George, wouldn’t she be willing to give all that up? Isn’t that what the ladies did in the serialized stories she and her friends used to pass around? But the women in those stories also didn’t live in the real world.

  Her friends. Flora sighed. Would she ever have friends like that again?

  “It seems I don’t have most of that, anyway,” she said quietly, hating that the life she wanted wasn’t hers anymore. Not really.

  Though she’d been encouraged by her newfound friendship with Ellen, Flora couldn’t help but remember the way Ellen had warned her off George. That seemed to be what everyone was doing these days. Reminding her that even though she was living in reduced circumstances, it was by choice, and the reality of her station was that once she returned home, propriety dictated that...

  Flora looked at him. “Why do you suppose it is that, despite you saying George is a good man, he wouldn’t be welcome in our parlor?”

  Her father made a choking sound. Flora turned and patted him on the back.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” He waved her away. “What do you mean, George wouldn’t be welcome in our parlor?”

  “I can’t see you inviting him to dine with us.” Flora sighed. “The only employees of yours that I’ve met have all been, well, not the laborers. Why is that? Why such a division?”

  He looked thoughtfully at her, nodding slowly. “You have grown a lot since coming up here. I’m sorry it took George pointing it out to recognize how much wisdom you have. But, you know, if this is about George—”

  “No.” Flora shook her head. “I mean, yes, but...” Flora sighed. “Last night, when Peanut joined us for supper, I enjoyed his company. His stories are so colorful, and I’m finding as I get to know more of the miners, that, despite our differences in social status, they’re good people. I like them.”

  Shaking her head again, she said, “But I can’t see Agnes being happy about any of them walking on our carpets with their dirty boots.”

  Flora chuckled softly as she thought about how persnickety their housekeeper could be. “Do you remember that time when there was trouble at one of your mines, and the foreman came into the house to tell you? I thought for sure Agnes was going to beat the man to death with her broom.”

  Her father also chuckled. “She does run a tight ship. Even I don’t dare go in the front door if I’ve been at one of the mines.”

  In the past, Flora had always privately agreed with Agnes’s horror at the wanton disregard for propriety. After all, it’s what had always led Flora to judge people with such swiftness and cruelty. But living here, in the mining camp, even for a few short weeks, had taught her that many of the things she’d once disdained in others were not their fault, and that she should have looked deeper.

  For example, a miner often only owned one pair of boots, and they lived in such dirt and mud out of necessity. How could she turn up her nose at that? How could she consider someone less than herself because of dirty hands and face, when that person likely didn’t have the same access to clean water for washing? She knew nothing about the people she’d once judged, and she felt ashamed for not being able to see that underneath all the things she’d thought were important existed decent people she was now proud to know.

  So what did that mean for her relationship with someone like George?

  Her father patted her on the knee. “I can see this experience has changed you. And if you wish to invite some of your new friends for dinner, I can smooth things over with Agnes and your mother.”

  Flora took a deep breath. “Would you consider...” She closed her eyes. No, she couldn’t ask that question. George had never asked if he could court her, and as much as she liked him, she still wasn’t sure she could live in a place like this camp forever. Even now, she dreaded going in to sleep on the lumpy mattress that was considered extravagant here.

  Could she do that for the rest of her life?

  Flora shook her head.

  “Never mind. It’s—I’m being silly, I suppose.”

  Her father put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “It’s not silly to think about other people and how you interact with them. In truth, I’m learning a great deal myself. Your questions are prompting me to look deeper at my own values and motivations. I used to be just like the men at this camp, until I found riches and began making more. But it’s been a long time since I’ve spent time with my workers, looking at them as people, thinking about their needs and values. We get so caught up in life that we often forget those who support the life we live.”

  Then he looked at her sympathetically. “I would be a fool not to notice that you’re developing feelings for George. I would just caution you that everything is not as it seems, and you should guard your heart for the time being. Once things are in the open, and you have all the information, we can talk.”

  He gave her another squeeze. “I know it’s difficult, but keep in mind that you’re dealing with a lot of emotions right now—living up here, the changes in your friendships, caring for Pierre, even the difference in how you view things. God is still working in you, so it’s best not to make life-altering decisions in the midst of it.”

  Flora swallowed. “I know George has secrets. There are times I feel like he’s hiding something, but then it’s gone, and I don’t know what to think.”

  Taking a deep breath, Flora looked up at him. “Are his secrets so very bad?”

  “He hasn’t killed a man, if that’s what you’re asking. But he has taken me into his confidence, and while I am choosing to keep his secrets, you must know that...” Her father let out a long sigh. “I can only say that it’s not going to be an easy road for him, and until you have all the facts, don’t start making up romantic dreams that may never be.”

  Which told her nothing, except that her father was doing his best to dissuade her without explicitly telling her not to pursue George.

  “Does he know you feel this way?”

  “I have asked him not to encourage you. He understands the situation and why. I believe he and I are in agreement.”

  What made the twist in her heart even more particularly painful, she couldn’t say. Was it that George had been open with her father and not her, or was it more that George actually agreed with him? It shouldn’t matter. She’d already known that anything between herself and George was bound to be an impossibility.

  Ellen approached, a reminder that all of this turmoil should be dismissed. There was no point to putting herself through all this angst. Not when everyone around her had made it perfectly clear that Flora had no future with George.

  Sometimes she felt like a child, gorging herself on her mother’s chocolates, rather than taking just one, because they were so delicious. Even though she’d been warned she’d get sick, she’d gone headlong into disaster, then spent the next day in bed because of it.

  “Hello, Flora.”

  “Have you met my father?” Flora gestured at him.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Father, this is Ellen Fitzgerald, one of my new friends.”

  He stood and took her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Fitzgerald. Am I correct in thinking you’re Seamus’s daughter?”

  “I’m the eldest.” She smiled at him.

  “He’s said many fine things about you
. I’m glad to know my daughter counts you as a friend. Will you join us?”

  He gestured to one of the nearby logs as though it was the finest chair in the parlor. Flora had often forgotten that her father’s roots were not in wealth, but in the same humble beginnings as many of these miners. And whether it be here in the woods or in the finest ballroom, he always managed to put people at ease. She should have paid more attention to him and recognized how he treated others. Now that she thought about it, she’d never seen him act with the same disdain for people in lower classes that she’d once had. Not that Ellen was of a lower station, but he’d treated Peanut with equal consideration.

  “I’d be delighted, thank you.”

  Funny how, even in these primitive circumstances, everyone still managed to have impeccable manners.

  Ellen sat across from Flora, in the spot George had vacated, and Flora mentally kicked herself for immediately making the connection. It wasn’t as if George owned the log. Why couldn’t she get him off her mind?

  “I hate to impose,” Ellen said, looking truly regretful that she was asking. “But I was wondering if tomorrow we could switch jobs at the mine? My dear friend, Diana Jeffries, is coming up for the day, but only the day because she has to get back to her husband and children, and it would be so much more pleasant for her to help serve water than it would be to wash dishes.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Flora said. “Pierre loves to splash his hands in the water and play with the bubbles. It would be my pleasure to help you.”

  “Oh, good,” Ellen said, letting out a sigh of relief. “The other girls were so beastly about trading jobs, I’d begun to despair that I’d find a solution. Everyone hates washing dishes, so I appreciate your assistance.”

  Flora smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Ellen leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I will be sure to let people know how amiable and considerate you’ve been in helping me. I think Sarah is being unfair in her treatment of you, and you’re so busy with Pierre that the others haven’t had a chance to make up their minds.”

  Giving her a smile, Ellen continued. “Tomorrow, when I invite you to dine with us, you will say yes, won’t you? I know Diana will enjoy your company, especially if you tell her how you make those lovely hats. She’s been quite envious.”

  “Of course. In fact, when we get back to town, I’d be honored to have you both over to learn how I do it. People think it’s a silly hobby, but I quite enjoy arranging all of the elements to make a perfect hat.”

  With a twinge, Flora recalled George’s words of admiration about her intelligence and that fashion wasn’t silly at all. Oh, to be able to dismiss him as readily as everyone else wanted her to.

  “Oh, it’s not silly at all. We’ve all long thought you had a talent, but well, in the past, it was too intimidating to approach you, and then...”

  Ellen looked ashamed of where her thoughts were leading, and Flora understood. When Flora became persona non grata in their circles, it would have been social suicide to ask. What Ellen offered her was the opportunity to find her way back into her former friends’ good graces in a way that would be less intimidating to everyone. She’d be doing them a favor, and they’d be thinking they were getting the better end of the bargain. But hopefully, in that space, the other ladies would realize just how much Flora had changed.

  “It’s all right,” Flora said. “I understand perfectly. Not only would it be an honor to share what I know with everyone else, but it might be a less threatening way for us all to get to know one another again.”

  “Exactly.” Ellen smiled warmly at her. “I’ll admit, I never took the time to know you before. I was always too daunted by your status. It seems silly, but I’m grateful that your circumstances changed enough that I could find the courage to speak to you. I daresay many of the other women in our circle feel the same way.”

  “I would agree with that,” Flora’s father said, joining the conversation. Flora had nearly forgotten he was there. “It seems to me that so many people would spend more time watching and admiring you from afar that I don’t believe any of them truly knew you.”

  Flora nodded. “I was also never very warm and inviting, certainly not in the way Ellen has been to me. I should have done more to make others feel welcome and included.”

  “It’s an honor,” Ellen said. “I know you’ll do just fine in the future.”

  “Indeed she will,” Flora’s father said, standing. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, it’s time for me to turn in for the night.”

  “We should do the same.” Ellen stood and held out her hand to Flora.

  Flora joined her new friend and her father, feeling more hope in her heart than she had in a long time. It seemed almost too good to be true, finding a friend in Ellen. And yet, it also felt like the most right thing she’d done in a long time. For years Flora had sought out the women with the most standing and worked to keep them in her inner circle, priding herself on surrounding herself with the best of the best.

  She’d never paid much attention to Ellen, because while Ellen was from a good family, it wasn’t an important one. Her father owned a successful hotel in Leadville, but it wasn’t the best. Yet of all the friendships Flora regretted losing, she couldn’t rightly say that any of those friends had the same depth of compassion as Ellen.

  One more perception Flora was finding had changed. Perhaps her father was right. Until she’d sorted out all of the things in her life that were in flux, it was best not to put her heart on the line for something she knew little about.

  Chapter Nine

  Despite his plan to go to bed early, George found himself tossing and turning most of the night. Which left him exhausted the next morning as he worked in the deepest part of the mine. Punishment for getting on Dougherty’s bad side, he was sure. Was there a way he could turn his family’s business around and make a proper offer for Flora?

  But even if there was, what happened if things fell apart again? His father used to say that the market was volatile, and it was important to keep business interests diversified in case one was doing poorly. Except it seemed like everything was in trouble right now, confirming George’s opinion that there was nothing certain in life or in business. Which meant he couldn’t guarantee Flora the kind of life she wanted.

  He shook his head as he turned his attention back to the pile of rock he’d been moving. Running through these ideas for the thousandth time wasn’t going to solve anything. Flora was the least of his worries. How could he think to add to his burdens when he still had his mother to consider? And then there was Julia, Sam and the coming baby. Yes, he knew they were Arthur’s concerns, but sometimes he felt like Arthur was so consumed with business that he didn’t really look at what Julia needed. Personally, George had always thought that Julia could do better than Arthur, but she loved him, and he’d do what he could to support his sister.

  All that to say, why was he wasting so much mental energy on trying to find a way to make a relationship with Flora work? If that wasn’t enough to consume him, he still had Pierre’s father to find.

  “George! You’re back!” Peanut, his face so grimy that George only recognized him by his voice, joined him. “I thought Dougherty wanted you off for a week.”

  “Apparently I was more annoying poking around in his business.”

  George reached for a pick. “But if you notice, he’s got me in the depths of the mine, doing the worst work. I suppose I can’t get into as much trouble here.”

  Peanut grinned, looking more sinister than nice in the dim light. “Just as long as you steer clear of where they’re blasting. It’s amazing how many times people who get on Dougherty’s bad side end up on the wrong end of an accident.”

  Looking around, Peanut continued. “Not that anyone can prove anything. But if he’s mad at you, you’ve got to know
that there’s been a lot of trouble here. Folks don’t talk about it, and I shouldn’t be saying anything, but there’s some of us that believe that the accidents that have been happening lately aren’t accidents.”

  “I was afraid of such.” George also looked around, noting that they were alone, but lowering his voice anyway. “Pierre’s father was listed on the employee roll when I snuck into Dougherty’s office. But when he gave us access to examine the books, it was a different set of books, and the boy’s father didn’t appear. Could he have met with one of those accidents, and Dougherty’s afraid we’ll discover it?”

  Peanut looked somber. “It’s possible. When did you say the man disappeared?”

  “As best as we can tell, based on what Pierre has told Flora, sometime around May 17 is most likely. That’s the last time he saw his father.”

  “Two weeks ago.” Peanut sighed. “I think there was a strange explosion around that time. I can’t be certain of the date, but I’ll ask Billy if he can look at the log. We all thought it odd, since it came from a part of the mine that’s not being worked right now. Dougherty said it was probably from some old dynamite that never went off properly and said it was too dangerous for anyone to go look at. Common story up here, and no one’s stupid enough to go in if that’s what’s going on.”

  “But if someone was killed and Dougherty wanted to cover it up?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first person we thought Dougherty had killed. But why this man? No one here’s ever heard of him.”

  Good question. One that no one seemed to have an answer to. Hopefully John would find something to help. He was supposed to be going in to the office later today to do some more investigating, in the guise of being more serious about purchasing the mine.

  “Based on what we learned from Pierre about their arrival, they were only here a couple of days before his father disappeared. He probably didn’t have time to make friends.”

 

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