Kiowa thought a second, and then pulled his jeweler’s loupe glasses from his vest pocket.
“I’m a silversmith, specializing in jewelry.”
“The anniversary rings our sons gave to us at Tully’s wedding! Did you make them?”
“Yes, I did. But most of my work goes back to New York.”
“When do you have time to work on fine jewelry? Doesn’t the smithy keep you busy?”
“Far from it, and that was the plan all along. I needed a front to work on my real career while I lived in Kansas,” Kiowa said with a shrug.
Pastor shook his head in disbelief, and then asked another question.
“Why not sell your jewelry in Kansas City, or somewhere closer than New York?”
Kiowa tented his fingers, wondering how to break the facts to the man.
“Have you heard of the KW Jones Silversmith Company? You might check the church’s silver collection plates as they may have the company stamp on the bottom. The company makes shallow ware—dishes, candlesticks, vases, etc., and flatware. Their silver jewelry is sold in most of the finer jewelry stores in the Northeast.” Kiowa said, then sat back to let Pastor figure out Kiowa’s connection to New York. He’d never told a soul in Kansas, except for Mary and then later her children.
Pastor huffed as he smiled widely. “I’m guessing that’s your grandfather’s business?”
“It was until he died ten years ago. Then the business was bequeathed to his grandson, Kimball William Jones III.”
Pastor slummed back in his chair, his mouth slack-jawed with surprise.
“Good Deuteronomy, Kiowa! How rich are you? And why are you hiding out living here instead of in the high society of New York?”
“After two years of running the business, I needed to escape to a simpler life. I have good managers in place and I didn’t need to be in house all the time.”
“And you’ve lived a double life for the past eight years.”
“Yes, and part of the time even married to Mary, although we kept it a secret, fearing what people would think of a white woman married to me.
“Mary’s children have always known, but the rest of Mary’s Kansas family didn’t until Mary’s fall. Her accident prompted me to recall our wedding vows, and I stepped up to care for her—with her blessing, of course—since it affected her family.”
“We’ve been silent about it to our friends, pretending Mary is staying with the Shepards to recover instead of my home.”
Pastor nodded. “Yes, you should put your wife, family, and marriage first. Mary’s family is upset, rightfully so, but they’ll get used to it. After Mary and Burdette are able to move back to their apartment, how will you handle your marriage? Back to secrecy or tell your friends and live with her in their apartment?”
“No matter if Mary would like things to go back to normal, I fear they won’t,” Kiowa confessed. “She has no movement or feeling in her right leg, Pastor. And I’m afraid she might be paralyzed or handicapped for the rest of her life.”
Shock and concern changed the pastor’s expression. “Oh, no! I pray to God she’ll walk again, but time will tell. What does Doctor Pansy say about Mary’s condition?”
“We need to be patient. It could take weeks of healing before we know if there is permanent damage to her spine, which is causing the problem.”
“Could you travel to Kansas City, or Back East to see a specialist?”
“It’s only been four days. I might be fearing the worst too soon. But yes, we’ll travel to get help, if she doesn’t improve.”
Kiowa was wealthy and could afford the best doctors and care for his wife, but that still might not be enough for Mary to walk again.
“And in the weeks to come? Are you keeping Mary isolated to keep your secrets?”
“I think we need to announce our marriage and start living as a family, even if the kids need to stay at the Shepards for a while longer. I don’t feel comfortable carrying Mary up and down the steep steps of her apartment in her fragile state, and I don’t think Mary is ready to face them yet either.”
“Then Mary needs to have her friends visit her at your home, which I’m guessing isn’t just the single room the Anderson’s used to live in?”
Kiowa couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I think you and Kaitlyn need to come over soon to visit Mary. The storage section everyone thought I added to the blacksmith shop? Mack and I built it, and Mary furnished it into an apartment instead.”
“My son, Mack, has kept a secret from me too? The old room is just a ‘front’ to keep people from knowing the truth?”
“Partly. It’s also another layer to secure my jewelry workroom and keep jewels safe. And that secret, Pastor, needs to be kept. A few people know I ‘dabble’ in making rings, made from a worktable that is in the old living quarters. No one knows the extent of my profession or inventory behind the locked doors of my workroom.
“I expect this part of my life to be kept in your confidence, because it truly is no one’s business. I am Clear Creek’s blacksmith, and that’s all. And I don’t want a robbery to happen if word gets out about my inventory.”
“I’ll agree to that. But can I tell Kaitlyn? I swear she won’t tell another soul,” Pastor grinned as he leaned forward with excitement.
At least keeping the secret of his wealth was better than the sorrows and grief the Reagans have had to bear in their congregation over the years.
And Pastor and Kaitlyn had been so good to him, not judging him and accepting him as a friend, even if he didn’t sit in the congregation every Sunday.
“All right. I know you have a Bible, or two, she can swear on.”
Kiowa stood up, feeling better than he had since Mary had fallen. Whatever happened with Mary’s condition, the pastor and his family would be available for support and help.
Pastor Reagan lifted his hand to shake Kiowa’s, but he didn’t let go as he said, “I sense you came to my office to get a little advice beside unloading the burden resting on your shoulders. The best suggestion I can give you is to follow the wedding vows you spoke to your wife, and in front of your step-children. Those three are the most important people in your life and you should be that to them too.
“Ignore the remarks ignorant people make and enjoy the family life you should be embracing.”
Pastor gently squeezed Kiowa’s hand and let go.
“Thanks, Pastor. You’re right. It’s time we become a family.”
“Which means I expect you to sit with your family at every Sunday church service from now on,” Pastor added, pointing his finger at Kiowa.
Kiowa laughed, feeling the weight on his chest lift a little. His friends in town, especially the Reagan clan, outnumbered the prejudiced people he worried about hurting Mary, Burdie, and Nolie. He and Mary were committed to each other, and it was time to show Mary’s children that love conquered all.
Chapter 8
“Mary, you need to let people in to visit you. You’ve never been one to shun friends. They just want to help cheer you up, help pass the time as you recuperate,” Darcie pleaded, but Mary kept her face turned to the wall.
It had been two weeks since her fall, and Mary still couldn’t move her right foot. She knew she was wallowing in self-pity, but the reality that she may never walk again depressed her. Why couldn’t her mother realize how devastating this was?
Or, Darcie was denying it too, pretending tomorrow would be the day Mary would stand on her own two feet and walk to the commode—instead of Kiowa having to carry her. Mary knew it still upset Darcie that she was staying with Kiowa instead of at the Shepard house.
Kiowa had been very supportive through the ordeal, turning away people who wanted to visit her, and to snoop around Kiowa’s home. He’d also closed the blacksmith shop to stay inside with her, and he rarely left the premises except to run errands around town.
He said it was fine with him to lock the blacksmith doors, as he preferred to work on his new line of silver brooches anyway
, but still, Mary had disturbed Kiowa’s life.
He locked the home door though, not wanting anyone to enter when he had the workroom door open. Security of the inventory was priority. When someone knocked, he took off his special glasses, closed the work door, then invited people in.
Now Kiowa leaned against the door frame of the bedroom, his hands in his pants’ pockets, quietly listening as Darcie begged her to be…social. But Mary didn’t feel like doing anything anymore. The reality of her situation had crushed her soul.
The three of them turned toward the sound of someone knocking on the front door. Mary eased her shoulders, recognizing Doctor Pansy’s rap on the wooden door. The woman faithfully checked on her every day.
Kiowa disappeared for a second to let the doctor in. Mary strained to hear what they were saying as they walked to the bedroom, but their voices were too low.
“Hello ladies. Darcie, if you don’t mind, I’d like to examine and talk to Mary privately?”
Darcie only hesitated a second, and then stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in by Mary’s bedside. “Of course, Doctor.” Darcie bent over to lightly kiss Mary’s forehead.
“Please consider what I asked, Mary,” Darcie whispered before leaving the room and letting Kiowa usher her out.
Doctor Pansy stood listening to the sound of the outer door closing before turning to Mary.
“And what was that about?” Doctor Pansy asked as she sat in the chair Darcie had just vacated.
Mary turned her head toward the doctor. “My mother was lecturing me about my not hosting guests for tea and refreshments.”
Doctor Pansy gasped in mock horror “How dare she! Doesn’t she know every woman in town would like to see the blacksmith’s hidden love nest and would fill this bedroom beyond capacity?”
Kiowa was back inside the bedroom, trying his hardest not to snicker.
Mary volleyed her stare between the two of them, but then tried a smile of her own. She’d had so little improvement that she’d turned sour on everything.
“She means well, Mary. That’s what mothers do, right? You try to encourage your children too.”
“Yes, I would, if I could be with them,” Mary muttered as she felt the veil of depression weigh on her chest again. Nolie and Burdette, now proficient on her crutches, visited Mary every day but it wasn’t the same as living together.
“Well, your chance is coming up tomorrow. It’s the end-of-school picnic and Burdette wants you to be there with her. She gets around fine on her crutches but is self-conscious about them.”
“No. I can’t go out,” Mary vehemently shook her head.
“Kiowa ordered that top-of-the-line wicker rolling chair for you, and I bet you haven’t sat in it yet,” Doctor Pansy commented, and pointed at the chair in the corner that Mary had ignored on purpose.
“Even though you can’t walk, the rest of your body is functioning just fine, and you need to get in that chair and get outside in some sunshine and fresh air.”
“No, I’m not ready—”
“Is that an official doctor’s order, Doc Pansy?” Kiowa interrupted Mary, quietly challenging the doctor.
“Yes, it is, Mary, but not only for your sake. Your children need you to resume your family life together, even if it means you’re sitting in a chair watching them. I dare say this has been hardest on Nolie, because he feels your accident was his fault. And Burdette is still feeling pain in her broken bone. Even though she’s twelve, she needs her mother to ‘kiss and make it better.’”
Mary pressed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. She couldn’t keep wallowing in her grief when her children needed her.
“But I can’t walk!” Mary wailed.
“Not yet, and maybe not ever as well as you did before your fall. But life goes on, Mary,” Doctor Pansy quietly told her as she stood to leave.
“You’ve got to face your situation. Other than the exercises—which I hope you’re doing every day—you have to be patient as your body heals as best as it can. You can always travel to see the specialist, but I’d give your body a few more weeks before tackling a bone-jarring train ride.
“I hope to see both of you tomorrow at the school picnic,” the doctor said as she left the room, Kiowa following behind to let her out.
Mary heard their low voices before the door closed and Kiowa came back to the bedroom. He stood by the bed, looking down at her.
“Exercises? Why hadn’t I heard about that?”
Mary ducked her chin, embarrassed that she hadn’t told him.
Then she looked up to challenge him. “Why would I say anything about it? What good will it do if I can’t move my leg to begin with?”
“Maybe one limb won’t cooperate—yet—but you still have three others that need to keep moving so they don’t atrophy. Sitting in the rolling chair and moving yourself around will strengthen your body.”
Mary gave him a rude stare, but Kiowa crossed his arms across his chest, ready to argue with her.
“Do you want your daughter to walk again, without using crutches?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course, I do!”
“I imagine your daughter would like for you to do your best to walk again too. And until then, exercise and the rolling chair will help you.”
Mary bit her lip, knowing Kiowa was right. He’d been so patient with her the past two weeks, even though living twenty-four hours together was a new experience, and sometimes trying for them. Until her fall, they only spent time together after nightfall covered their quick trips to each other’s homes.
“If we go to the picnic together, we’re announcing our marriage. Are you sure you want to do that? We can’t turn back after people know our secret,” Mary frowned as she questioned Kiowa.
“I’m ready to take Pastor Reagan’s advice, which we should have done from the first day of our marriage. Pastor said, ‘ignore the remarks ignorant people make and enjoy the family life you should be embracing.’”
Kiowa pushed the blanket off of Mary’s legs, sat down on the side of the bed and pulled Mary across his lap. He slowly and tenderly kissed her temple, and then her lips before pulling back to stare in her eyes.
Kiowa’s chocolate brown eyes followed his fingers as he traced her jaw. He was such a kind, gentle soul. It was wrong not to acknowledge him as her partner for life.
Mary took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous flutter in her stomach. This first time of her being seen in public after her accident was going to be hard, but nothing like the pressure Kiowa would take for being her husband. Mixed marriages were frowned upon by so many people.
“If we’re strong in our marriage and faith, it helps Burdie and Nolie, now and for the rest of their lives,” Kiowa reminded her.
“That means you’ll have to give me a bath and wash my hair if I’m going outside tomorrow. I’ve been neglecting myself.”
“True, but I’ll enjoy it immensely. Although I’ll have to take another bath afterwards, so I don’t smell like a feminine rose.”
“I do like the bay rum soap you use,” Mary coyly hinted.
Mary knew Kiowa was trying to uplift her spirits and boost her confidence, so she’d go along with his banter. Otherwise she’d sink into her miserable worry again.
“Mr. Jones, which dress should I wear tomorrow for my return to public debut?”
“Your choice, Mrs. Jones, but I’m partial to the lavender lace one. I suppose that means I’ll have to lace you up in your corset again?” Kiowa scrunched his face at his disdain of the undergarment.
Mary waffled on that thought. She still had a tender spot on her back and was afraid the whale bones in the corset might bother it.
“I don’t think my back is ready for confinement yet,” Mary confessed, and snorted a laugh at Kiowa’s comical reaction.
Her husband’s animated demeanor when he was around her was so different than the stoic face he had in public. Besides her children needing her to rejoin life in the commu
nity, so did her husband.
“What questions will people ask us?” Mary asked as she rubbed the black braid down Kiowa’s back. She loved the fact his hair was as long as hers, and that she’d get to braid it after he bathed.
“Why will be foremost on people’s minds. Then when and where did we marry,” Kiowa guessed.
“Someone is bound to ask why we aren’t living together, which I can’t believe we’ve kept it a secret this long.”
“Sheriff Wilerson knows, as he caught me sneaking down your stairs one night on his rounds.”
“And you didn’t tell me? Now I’ll be embarrassed the next time I see him.”
“Just thank him for keeping our secret,” Kiowa said as he nuzzled her neck.
Mary leaned against her husband’s strong chest. At least the accident pushed them together.
But “what ifs” pushed their way back into her mind.
“What if I can’t walk up the stairs to the apartment again? I don’t want to rely on your carrying me upstairs all the time. And your place is too small for the four of us.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. We could build a house in town and rent out your apartment.”
“Would you keep your silversmith business in the blacksmith shop, or move it to the house then?”
“I don’t know. To tell the truth, I haven’t missed the blacksmith work since I’ve been caring for you, but I think the community has. The blacksmith shop did have loyal customers.”
“And Jasper Kerns needs horseshoes for his farriering. Would he be interested in buying the business?”
“He wouldn’t have time to blacksmith because he travels around to area ranches for his horseshoeing business.”
“Maybe sell the business then?” If her back and legs didn’t heal, she’d need his help more often.
“Maybe I should sell the dress shop too. I bought it from Mrs. Ressig when I moved back to town,” Mary suggested.
She bought the business from the older woman when Mary and her children moved back from Chicago. After she was widowed, Mary realized she wanted to be with her family in Kansas instead of remaining in Illinois.
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