***
Kiowa was still peeved when he pulled the horse and buggy up to the blacksmith shop. He jumped off and stomped into the shop, not surprised Mary had gotten her things by herself and was back at the door. Maybe it had been a mistake to help her with everything. Well, from now on, things were going to be different.
But a divorce? Not in his lifetime. And they wouldn’t come back to town until her mind was changed.
Kiowa picked Mary out of the chair and walked back to the buggy. “Catch yourself after I sit you down,” Kiowa growled as he tried to carefully set her on the buggy seat instead of tossing her on it.
Then he walked around the buggy, jumped up to sit beside Mary, leaving as much space as possible between them on the buggy seat, and flicked the reins to start the horse out of town…without saying a word to his lovely bride who was sitting beside him, with a pinched mouth and staring straight ahead.
Kiowa started to relax as the cottonwood trees along the river came into view. By the time he’d parked the buggy under the shade of a tree, he was ready to talk, but not look at her yet.
For a moment he listened to the rustle of the leaves overhead and the chirps of the birds noting the horse and buggy had invaded their sanctuary. He turned to watch the slow flow of the muddy river water below them and felt anchored to nature again. Kiowa had missed his trips out to the prairie this past month while caring for Mary.
And Mary had missed everything from her normal life to her apartment, let alone take a single step by herself. But it was time they reconnected as husband and wife, not caregiver and patient.
“I did not say ‘for better, for worse, until death do us part’ out loud—in front of God and a preacher—without meaning it, Mary,” Kiowa said to break their silence.
“I know. And I meant my vows too, Kiowa. But because of my fall—and my fears…”
Kiowa turned to her then. “I think you can add frustration for the situation too. It’s been on the top of my list while I’ve tried to remain strong for you and the children.”
He wrapped his arms around Mary and pulled her to his chest. She looked up at him and sighed.
Kiowa kissed her tenderly on the lips and forehead before pulling away slightly, so he could meet her eyes. “I love you, Mary, and I want to be your husband forever, no matter which one of us is injured, ill, or…insane.”
Mary tried to contain her surprised laugh by biting her smiling lips. “Insane? I know people think we’re insane for marrying, but I’m still glad we did. I love you too, Kiowa, and in some ways, my fall has been a blessing.”
“How in the world can you say that?” Kiowa asked, although he knew what she meant. It had forced them to publicly acknowledge their marriage.
“Now we get to be together all the time, instead of secret rendezvous to each other’s bedrooms,” Mary grinned and wiggled an eyebrow.
“That added a little spice to our honeymoon phase though,” Kiowa said as he tucked a ring of curls behind her ear which had escaped her bun. “It’s so good to see your humor coming back, Mrs. Jones.”
“And I think we need to escape to the country more often. Just feeling the breeze on my face and viewing the horizon makes me feel…” Mary trailed off while lifting her shoulders.
“At peace. Balanced for me, to get back to my native roots,” Kiowa sighed as he stared out across the prairie with Mary.
“I love driving out into the countryside,” Mary commented.
Kiowa let the silence settle over them for several minutes. They needed time to soak in the peace the view gave them. They both sighed, almost in unison, when they felt better.
Mary laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed his forearm. “I can’t imagine how heartbreaking it was for you to be pulled off this land and stuck in a school when you were young,” Mary lamented, pulling Kiowa back in his memories.
“Although I hate to admit it, my father sending me to a school near my grandfather saved me from a worse life, and maybe even death. He knew the wave of soldiers dismissed after the Civil War and immigrants coming to claim land, would push the Indian tribes off the Kansas prairie.”
“But you came back later, when you could have stayed in New York,” Mary said.
“The visions of the open land of my childhood filled my dreams, until I had the way to return as an adult.”
“Even though it’s different from when you left? There are established towns marring the prairie now, instead of the teepee villages I’ve seen photographs of.”
“But this area of Kansas still feels like it was part of my past—once I drive out of town a ways. Who knows, maybe my Indian family camped out in this very spot when they roamed the plains while following the buffalo.”
“Why didn’t your parents marry and live together? You’ve never talked about that.”
“My father said it was because of his military commitments, but I sense my mother refused to leave her family, knowing what was going to happen when the government invaded the land.
“And shortly after I was entrusted to my grandfather’s care, my father sent a letter stating that my mother and her family had died in a conflict.”
That was hard for a ten-year-old boy to come to grips with, that his native family was gone. And a half year later, Kiowa’s grandfather received a notice that his own son, Kiowa’s father, had perished as well.
On a whim almost a decade ago, Kiowa traveled back to Kansas to find the sites where his parents had died. There had been a grave marker in the fort cemetery for his father, but none for his mother, who would have been buried in a mass grave at the attack site.
And when the train was at a rest stop in Clear Creek, Kansas, Kiowa had eaten at the Clancy Café and heard there was a blacksmith shop for sale in town. That chance conversation with Dan Clancy made him settle in Kansas again.
Kiowa paid cash for the blacksmith shop, then returned to New York to set up managers in his business. A few months later he settled in Clear Creek, only traveling to New York about twice a year for business.
He kept a low profile his first years here, blacksmithing during the day, making jewelry at night. The Clancy’s and Reagan’s were his first friends pulling him into their circle of friends.
And then Mary and her children moved back to Clear Creek when her banker husband, Abram Jenkins died. Why he was smitten with Mary at first sight still puzzled him. And that the attraction was mutual startled them both.
When Nolan Clancy left the military and traveled from Montana back home to take over Dan and Edna’s café, the older couple tried to push Nolan and Mary back together, as they’d been sweethearts in their youth. But Nolan brought Holly, his future wife, home with him, and he wasn’t interested in reconnecting with Mary.
Slowly over time, Kiowa and Mary spent time together, unbeknown to the townspeople, until Mary and Burdette’s accident.
The accident. Oh, yes. The reason for this ride.
“Now that the scenery has calmed us down, we need a frank talk about our future, Mary. First, I do not want a divorce,” Kiowa stated and held his breath until Mary answered.
“I don’t want a divorce, nor do I want to live apart either,” Mary affirmed, causing a considerable weight to lift off Kiowa’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Mary. So now we need to face the fact you might not get the full use of your leg back, next week or next year. I hate to think it, let alone say it out loud, but we have to face the truth.”
Chapter 11
Tears slowly trailed down Mary’s cheeks at Kiowa’s statement. She wanted to protest, but she knew they both had to face it.
Kiowa handed her his handkerchief and wrapped his arm around her shoulder when she started to sniff back her tears.
“But why me? Why, Kiowa?” Mary sobbed as she turned to him and let all her sorrows release in his arms.
“I’m sorry, Mary. There’s no rhyme or reason for accidents. I’m just thankful you didn’t die…”
Kiowa’s arms squeezed her ches
t against his as he sniffed back his own tears.
He lost his home and his family growing up. Thank God she was spared for his sake as well as her children’s.
“I know I’ve been balking about talking about our living arrangements. I hated to let go of our apartment, but I need to.”
“You still might regain your leg strength, Mary,” Kiowa suggested as he gently wiped her cheeks.
“Maybe, or maybe not. Either way, I can’t have you or the children helping me climb those steep steps every day. I’m ready to look at the houses you mentioned which could be added on to.”
Kiowa and Mack had looked at the two houses in town that were for sale, but Mary had refused to look at them up to this point.
“I’m glad to hear that. I dreaded the thought that you might fall again…”
“Then let’s talk about the possibilities, because we need a bedroom and a bathroom on the first floor for me,” Mary said, determined to make a new home for the four of them.
“And we have the option of building a brand new house too, if you prefer,” Kiowa suggested again.
“But that will take more time than just building an addition onto the home. I want all of us to be living under the same roof,” Mary said impatiently. Apparently, now that she’d made the decision, she wanted to combine their households into one home.
“Right now, there are only two houses for you to look at. The Marsh’s house on Second Street, and the Goodman’s house on the end of First Street.”
“I haven’t been in the Marsh’s house, but I have been in the Goodman’s years ago, because their daughter was a classmate.”
“Either lot has enough room to add on to the back of the house. The Goodman’s house would be just two houses down and across the street from your parents though. In the long run it might be better for us to live close to them,” Kiowa said, but held up his hand to stop her protesting.
“Not only so your parents can help you, but also so we can help them when they age.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but Clancy’s had to add on to their house for Dan and Edna’s limitations. And here I have to think of it for me now, instead of forty or fifty years down the road,” Mary muttered, trying not to let herself get mired down in her depression again.
Kiowa pulled Mary close again and kissed her temple.
“And I’m just happy we’ll be growing old together, instead of me putting flowers on your grave now.”
“I’m sorry. I forget I gave you a scare, since I was the unconscious one,” Mary apologized.
“It’s not something I’ll forget soon,” Kiowa replied. The scene of Mary unconscious and Burdette screaming in pain still flashed as nightmares in his mind.
“Too bad we can’t build a house by the river here. I’ve always enjoyed this spot.”
He didn’t comment that Mary had changed the subject, because his mind was already flashing back to Mary’s accident.
“Would you prefer to build out of town?” Kiowa hadn’t thought Mary would want to give up the conveniences of living in Clear Creek.
“No, although you might want the peace of the country. Away from the crowds of people,” Mary said.
“Clear Creek is not crowded compared to where I lived in Buffalo, New York. Besides, it’s better to be in town for our businesses, and the children.” Although looking across the waving grass to the distant horizon was tugging at his soul.
“All right. Now that I’ve calmed down, come to my senses, and accepted my future, can we go back to town? I’m excited to look at the houses now,” Mary asked.
Kiowa relaxed his shoulders while studying Mary’s sly smile. Mary might have grown up with money, but that didn’t prevent her rough childhood, or keep her from losing her first husband. She’d learned to accept and adapt, and she would again with this latest challenge. And he’d be right by her side this time.
*
“What do you think, Burdette?”
Kiowa watched as mother and daughter eyed the rooms in the house for sale. It didn’t matter that one was in a rolling chair and the other on crutches, they were on a mission to make this house a home.
The women, including Mary’s mother, Darcie, and her grandmother, Flora Donovan, had quickly dismissed the house on Second Street.
“I like the large windows in the front room and kitchen,” Burdette answered as her crutches thumped across the wooden floor.
“Mama? Grandma?” Mary asked the other women in the room.
Kiowa kept silent, knowing his opinion didn’t matter against these four. And that was all right. He wanted Mary and Burdette to have the house they wanted. Kiowa and Nolie would be fine living in anything, as long as it had a roof. As long as the womenfolk were happy, so would they be.
Darcie touched the door frame between the living room and kitchen. “The house is only twenty or so years old. The rooms need painting and some cosmetic fixing, but it’s a solid house.”
Kiowa could tell Darcie was excited her daughter and family might be living just down the street, but she was wise in letting Mary make the decision instead of her pushing it.
“Plenty of room to add on the back of the house, and even plant some shade trees along the alley,” Flora added her own thoughts. With all of them living back East at some time in their previous lives, they all thought of adding trees whenever possible.
“Kiowa? Your vote?” Mary turned her chair to see him. He’d been leaning against the far wall of the living room letting the women talk to their heart’s content.
“Whichever one you and Burdette want. I don’t think Nolie cares.” The boy ran up the stairs when they first walked into the house and still hadn’t come back down. Kiowa could hear Nolie’s footsteps as he explored the empty upstairs. He was probably hanging out of the attic’s front window by now.
Mary and Burdette looked at each other and broke out in grins. “This house!” they said almost simultaneously.
Kiowa loved the look of two, no, make that four happy women.
“The bank is taking care of the house sale for the owners, so I’ll go close the deal. Mary, do you want to go with me now, or do you want to wait here until I get back?”
Mack had built a temporary ramp to get Mary and her rolling chair up the front porch steps and front door. It was steep enough that a man had to push the chair. Now that they were going to buy the house, Mack would build a long ramp on the side of the house that would end on the side of the porch.
“Can we pick out room colors now, Mama?” Burdette asked anxiously.
“I think we’ll still be talking about decorating even after you’re done at the bank, Kiowa. Please come back later.” Mary’s smile and twinkle in her eyes melted Kiowa’s heart.
Things would work out for their family after all.
Chapter 12
Pastor Reagan stopped mid-sentence of his sermon and turned his head to look out the side windows of the church building.
Because it was a cool morning, the windows and front doors of the building were closed, but Mary could hear something ringing in the distance.
“Somebody go outside and check! I think it might be the fire bell!” Pastor called to the ushers.
As soon as the front door was open, the frantic and constant tones of the bell was obvious.
“It is the fire bell! Get to the station!” yelled the pastor as he jumped down the pulpit steps and tore off his preacher’s coat as he ran for his office door to the side of the sanctuary.
“I’ve got to go, Mary. Someone will be sure you and Burdette get safely outside,” Kiowa hurriedly told her as he climbed over her chair and ran for the door.
Mary hated her rolling chair was in the church aisle, blocking the hurried exit of every man who’d been sitting in the pews for the Sunday morning service, but it couldn’t be helped.
Mary grabbed the back of Nolie’s jacket as he scrambled over her lap.
“Stay out of the way, Nolie. Only help with the fire if the men in charge direct you
too.”
“Yes, Ma,” was Nolie’s answer as he rushed past with the rest of the congregation pouring out of the church.
Darcie and Amelia waited in the pew in front of Mary until the crowd was past them.
“Let’s get you and Burdette out of the church now,” her mother said as they watched the last of the people exit the building.
Mack had built a ramp over part of the church steps to give Mary access to the church without someone having to lift her and the rolling chair inside. The ramp was narrow though, so Amelia guided the front of the chair down as Darcie pushed from the back, getting Mary down to the boardwalk in only seconds. Burdette went down the steps with her crutches and was walking in front of the rolling chair as they followed the crowd.
About two years ago a fire station was built to hold fire-fighting equipment, buckets, ladders, and a horse-drawn water wagon. It was manned by volunteers to fight any fire that threatened a structure in town.
“I wonder who was ringing the bell at the station?” Amelia asked as they walked past the schoolhouse.
“Who wasn’t in church this morning?” Mary asked, wishing she could run to the fire instead of being carefully rolled to the scene by her mother.
The Shepards sat toward the back of the right side of the church and had a good view of the congregation. A person could see who was missing because everyone usually sat in the same pew each Sunday.
“I can’t say I noticed anyone in particular, other than Doctor Pansy wasn’t by Mack, and Edna wasn’t in the Clancy pew,” Darcie answered from behind Mary.
“It would take someone strong to flip the latch to release the rope to even ring the bell,” Mary answered. It had been a concern to secure the bell to keep children from ringing it as a prank.
“Why not just run to the church to get help?” Amelia asked as she lifted the handle of the chair to help it get over a bump in the boardwalk.
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