1863 Saratoga Summer Page 24

  When Connor placed him on the ground, he continued to hold him close with a hand on the young boy’s shoulder.

  Thereafter, throughout what seemed like a long voyage, Robbie’s little arms reached for Connor at every opportunity. Each time the lad returned to his place in the carriage, he would hug Sinead with gleeful, boyish intensity. “I love you Mama Jane. I mean, Mama Sinead. I like that better.”

  His outlandish giggles when Connor was around forced her to reevaluate the worth of this hurried trip out of the city and into the country. Perhaps, it wasn’t such a poor idea, after all.

  Connor lifted Robbie from the ground, whirled in a circle and deposited him in the carriage. Connor winked at Sinead, a broad smile on his face. Robbie hugged her then whispered, “Mama, I love my new da.” His bright laughter soared in the air.

  They made it to Albany in a matter of days, camping out or staying at inns along the route. Past Albany, the lower humidity and slight westerly breeze made the journey on the main road to Saratoga more comfortable. Sinead relaxed. She showed more patience with Robbie’s boyish antics and total inability to remain quiet for more than ten minutes at a time. In fact, she was beginning to enjoy the journey.

  She had a chance to think on the slow ride north and, on the subsequent nights huddled together in one big room, at inns along the way. Many thoughts surfaced in her mind, most of which she pushed aside for a later time or mentioned to her da.

  ~*~

  “Robbie seems terribly fond of Connor, already,” she said one evening while viewing the incredible sky, filled with starts of every magnitude. “Look at them cavorting down by the river.”

  “Aye,” Bowes responded, “skipping stones. ‘Tis almost hard to tell who the bigger laddie is.”

  Sinead laughed. “I think perhaps Connor fits that bill.” One small ray of hope surfaced. “I’m just glad they get along.” She put her arm on Bowes’ and they strolled together down toward the two who were playing.

  She shivered and pulled the shawl closer around her shoulder. Her mind taken with the upcoming lawsuit over Robbie, she hadn’t given proper attention to the big step she took in getting married to a stranger, sight unseen.

  Bowes poked her arm. “Look at them. Chasing each other, it is.”

  “Da, deny as I might like to deny, I saddled myself with the encumbrance of a husband. Being concerned about other things, I said little in how the marriage took place, or where, or even when. ‘Tis my own fault, I guess.”

  “Nae, lass, I’m thinking I forced the decision on ye. But it was because of me own worry over the lad.” He patted her arm. “’Tis glad I am to be having this talk with me favorite lass.”

  She chuckled then mumbled, “I’m determined to have a say in how and where this unwanted marriage is to continue. Perhaps the short sojourn in Saratoga will work just fine, but I have no intention of staying there beyond August.” She added the fact to the list of demands written in her brain, a list her new husband would need to follow if he wanted her cooperation.

  “Telling a man where and how he’s going to live is not the way to get on his best side, daughter. Ease back a bit. Let yerself see his true value. Look closely…” Bowes watched his daughter out of the corner of his eye.

  She saw the look her da flashed and smiled. “I’ll try. My feelings about him changed since the day I met him at the dock, a week ago.” What she didn’t say to her father, Connor’s strong and distracting presence, was an attraction of sorts.With no intention of ever admitting her plans to him, she’d decided he was worth the bother and the risk of marriage.

  Heat rushed up her body, her face growing hot with the strength of her thoughts. Confusion over revitalizing something never thought of—respect, admiration and possibly love—was a negative force. It stopped her thoughts in their track. How might she gain his interest?

  A swirling wind tossed a few fallen leaves up in the air. Robbie ran, trying to catch them in his hands. He laughed when they fell onto his bare knees and tickled him. Laughing, Connor picked him up, tossed him in the air once and slung him over his shoulder on his belly.

  Robbie pounded on Connor’s back, screeching, “I’m gonna’ get sick. I’m gonna’ get sick.”

  “You better wait until I bounce you around a bit,” Connor said as he heaved his shoulder upward.

  “Ugh…”

  Bowes and Sinead laughed and began running down the slight incline to the river. “Wait for us,” Bowes cried. “We’ll all play.” He pulled on Sinead’s arm until they fell and rolled down the hill to the others.

  Connor put Robbie on the ground and went to help Sinead rise. Her face was flushed with excitement and lovely to look at. He took a deep breath.

  Robbie ran to her and grabbed at her skirt. “Look Mama.” He pretended to box the leaves away all the way back to the carriage.

  Sinead’s laughter shot out like a bolt of lightning. Connor turned around and smiled down at her. “I like the sound of your laughter. It pleases me.”

  “I’m thankful,” she responded. “I think ‘tis time we got on the road again, if we intend to make Saratoga before midnight.”

  “I still need to stretch my legs. Would you be of a mind to walk a bit with me, lass?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in an effort at playfulness. His smile was easygoing, almost sheepish.

  “Aye, I might like a walking spell myself,” she replied with a quick, staccato beat. Her heart raced at the deep, masculine timbre of his voice. A prickling at the back of her neck worried her but she nodded.

  A broad smile on his face, Connor turned, kneeled on the driver’s seat and reached over into the back for Robbie, who immediately went into his arms, small hand cupping Connor’s shoulders. “You have a choice here, laddie,” Connor said in a stern voice, pretending grave seriousness. “You can either ride up here with your Grandda Bowes or you can walk with your mama and me.”

  “I don’t want him sitting on the driver’s bench,” Sinead shouted, her attitude flinty, her breath blasting out in a rush. “He’s too small.” She wagged her finger at her father, giving off signs of her temper brewing. “What if he falls off, gets entangled in the horses’ legs and crushed beneath their feet?”

  “Och, daughter, stop yer fearful ways.” Bowes met his daughter’s furious stare. “I’ll keep the laddie on me lap. Nothing will happen to him, for sure, no more than anything happened to you when you were young and I carried you on me lap.”

  “I don’t remember ever doing that,” she retorted, her good mood spoiled.

  Bowes ignored her and poked Robbie on the arm. “We’ll drive this old carriage together,” he said, looking at Robbie and shaking his head in affirmation. “Come here on yer grandda’s lap, me young boyo. Sit with this old codger and we’ll drive all the way to Saratoga together.”

  Robbie let Connor settle him on Bowes lap then giggled. He reached his short arms and hands back around Bowes’ neck and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Grandda. Even when I was very little I’ve wanted to drive the horses, but Mama never let me.” He looked at his mama, put his hand up to cover his mouth and whispered into his grandfather’s ear, “She’s afraid of horses, you know.”

  Bowes nodded. “I know, laddie, I know.”

  “Why is she so afraid?” His childish words hung in the quiet.

  Bowes weathered face crumpled. “It’s a long story, lad. I’ll be telling ye someday.”

  Intrigued, Connor cocked his head to the side. “And a story I’d like to be hearing myself,” Connor interjected, smiling and nodding to them both. He leaped from the carriage before Bowes stopped it completely and opened the door to the back section. He scooped Sinead up into his arms, swung her around and set her on the ground with great gentleness. “There ye go, lass. I’ll just hold your arm for a moment until you get legs under you.”

  “Och, I’m fine already,” she said, easing out of his grasp, a tingle racing up her arm to her shoulder. His eyes held hers in a strange way.

  Robbie cla
sped the reins in his hands, his grandfather fixing them properly with the correct placement. Bowes turned in his seat and spoke, suddenly shattering the silence. “We’re going to take a bit of a run down the road here…”

  “No!” Sinead spun around. “Da, you can’t be taking Robbie if you’re going to go fast.”

  Bowes scowled down at her. His lips twisted ruefully in a plea. “Ye’ve got to stop yer caterwauling, lass. The boyo has to grow to be a man. Take care of yer own problems of the moment.”

  Sinead inhaled sharply. “Problems?” Her voice throbbed low. “Da, I don’t have problems.”

  “Aye, ye do, and he’s walking right next to ye.” He waved a hand, dismissively. “See to yer man, Sinead.” With that, he snapped the reins and the horses moved forward at a quicker pace, leaving Sinead and Connor in a fine puff of road dust.

  Sinead arched a brow, watched the carriage move away at a walk then waved her hands around to dispel the dust settling over her. In doing so, she turned her face away from Connor and squared her shoulders.

  “Come, walk on the grasses. It’ll be more comfortable for your feet and the dust won’t be as bad.”

  Sinead hesitated, shuffling her feet on the grass behind him but not responding verbally. She merely did as she was instructed and looked up at Connor through narrowed eyes.

  The two walked silently along the grass strip of the road. Connor reached and pulled a leaf from a low hanging branch. He held it between his thumbs and tried to make it whistle. Content with not speaking, Sinead studied his every movement.

  Conner possessed powerful shoulders and arm muscles. The column of his neck was strong and sinewy, his mouth sensual, his nose long and aquiline. He was a handsome man, she thought, refusing to admit that to anyone much less herself, and continued walking slowly beside him.

  Everything about him was hard, though. He was a fit figure of a man but contained too much inner strength for her. She didn’t want to be a lesser figure in this marriage. She sighed deeply, instinctively knowing he had kept Robbie and her safe. She coughed to get his attention.

  Connor didn’t notice. Other than a strong pang of homesickness for the lovely green fields of his Irish home, which he tried to overcome, he strolled companionably along the road with his wife. Wife. The concept was difficult to fasten in his mind, other than his having a responsibility for her. He stared down at her, wondering what her thoughts might be but afraid to ask.

  He enjoyed looking at her smooth body and the lovely warm flawless texture of her skin. He intended to be careful, to speak in guarded words about the issues they needed to discuss. He didn’t want to rile the temper of which he’d seen flashes. Not now, at least.

  “You know, lass, there are things we need to straighten between us in order to make things right for the boy.” Silence followed his opening gambit into serious talk. But her body betrayed her. It tightened with the expectation of a confrontation she was not ready for.

  “I know you want to be kind…”

  “Sinead, do not mistake kindness for weakness,” he said, his tone harsh.

  Her eyes flared with emotion, their color deepened. Her eyebrows rose. She leveled her gaze at him. “We don’t know each well enough to converse about any subject, unless you wish to discuss the riots in New York.”

  Connor was taken aback. He sighted her like a hunter his prey and let his penetrating gaze bore into her, relentlessly. “Now why would I be wanting to discuss something I found most horrendous, an evil thing I prefer not to recognize in people, especially in those of Irish descent. It has spoiled all my illusions about my own people.”

  “But it happened, with most of our Irish folks doing great damage to a fine city, with some of the German’s thrown in.”

  “I know nothing of their discontent with the original populace who lived there. I only arrived there a few days ago, and I’ve not experienced a pleasant day since. I can neither condone nor sympathize with their actions.”

  “Then just be quiet about it,” Sinead said.

  There was an edge to her voice that surprised him. It was a quiet reminder that the peaceful conversation he envisioned had become just another battleground for them. He wondered why it bothered him so much and knew he needed to break the tension. He raised his head and sniffed the air. A clean, fragrant scent of pine filled his nostrils and the sound of running water ruffled his ears.

  “I hear a stream across the road. Perhaps, we should be stopping here for a bite of food.” he suggested.

  His hand dropped to her arm in order to stop her movement forward. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression and a half-hearted smile. An intense desire to touch her rippled through him. The desire to posses her flashed and burned within him. His hand tightened on her arm. He pulled her a bit closer but concentrated on what was missing from her smile.

  She recoiled and rubbed her arm. He awakened something inside her, but what that might be was a mystery to him. There was a pull there, an attraction. At least on his part, he knew.

  With no sign of her feelings, she scampered up onto the road, put her hands on each side of her mouth and shouted, “Da…”

  Bowes had already turned the carriage around to wait for them. He shouted back, “Sinead, the laddie says he’s hungry as a bear.” Robbie tittered into his hand then waved to his mama.

  Connor stood where he was and watched his wife run toward the carriage. He saw her take out a bundle tied with a dark brown cord and put it down on the road. Then she reached into the back seat again. A rug of sorts, one they used several times before for their lunches, flipped out into the dust.

  Sinead walked away from the vehicle toward the stream, until she came to a small copse of trees. She shook the rug out then laid it on the ground in an area shaded from the sun by giant maple trees.

  She waved to the three standing by the carriage. “Come on, you three. Da, bring the bundle of food over here and I’ll lay it all out on the rug. Connor, would you be taking Robbie for a wash in the stream? Don’t be letting him play in the water.”

  Connor nodded, came forward and took Robbie’s hand in his own. Somewhat disconcerted at his wife’s change of mood, he turned to Bowes. “When do you think we’ll be arriving in that city of Saratoga?”

  “Before dark. We’ll settle into a boarding house there and, if we have time, we’ll go look at the property I have and the small house I’ve put up on it.”

  Connor stared at the man who had become a significant part of his new family. “Is it true what you told me about the racing track they’re figuring on putting up on the way to your place?” Connor asked with great interest.

  “Aye, laddie. Like I told ye, there’s much wealth in Saratoga Springs. Not quite the same as it was before the war started.”

  “What do you mean?” Connor asked.

  “In the old days, people from the South came here to drink and play in the waters. Although, some of them still manage to sneak up here for a spell in the warm weather, ‘tis harder for them now that they’re in the midst of a damned war.”

  Robbie pulled on Connor’s hand and Connor shushed him momentarily. “In a minute, laddie.”

  Bowes continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “An overgrown Irishman, like yerself, by the name of Morrissey seems to have taken over many of the gambling interests and sporting events, like the racing.” Bowes winked and grinned slyly.

  Connor grinned back at him, in agreement with the older man. “Now, Morrissey’s a man I’d like to be meeting…”

  “And I’ll be seeing to that very thing, come morning.” Bowes chuckled, picked up the bundle from the road and stomped off toward his daughter.

  ~*~

  The carriage rolled on though the tidy, vibrant village of Saratoga Springs, stirring up a bit of dust under the wheels. Although anxious to get to the boarding house, the occupants of the back seat stared at everything with wide eyes, craning their neck to see and trying to seem inconspicuous at the same time.

  Lar
ge trees and huge hotels lined the main thoroughfare, like the walls of a canyon. Men in expensive black broadcloth and women in the latest fashion jammed the porches and walkways.

  A parade of grander carriages than their own all carried carriage blankets of crimson velvet, lined with satin and edged in gold lace. They led a processional advance of even more elegant, well-dressed people, riding and strutting about, conversing, nodding to friends. Music floated over the avenue.

  Having made Connor sit in the back before coming into the grander parts of the village, Bowes sat alone, centered on the driver’s seat, his body upright and his gaze straight ahead. However, he did manage to wave at several people who called out his name. Connor looked about with great interest, studying the blatant magnificence of the surroundings and the people who seemed to parade and saunter to some unheard rhythm.

  Sinead dusted off her garments and drew a long scarf around her shoulders. She looked to see if Robbie was presentable. He kept jumping up between Connor and Sinead, pointing his fingers at all sorts of new sights. “Look, Mama. Look Da.” Everything in the town seemed to delight him. “Look here. Look over there.” The barrage of excited words and pointed fingers, to which both Connor and Sinead answered, “I see. I see,” was constant.

  Without stopping, they traveled across the main street and into a quieter section of the village. Shortly, they reached the simple gray and white boarding house where Bowes had stayed while he worked on the house he was building. Even after the house was finished, he stayed on as a boarder, for he didn’t like living alone away from all the action in the village.

  A woman with a round, pleasant Irish face and bright red hair, a bit younger than Bowes, greeted him as a long-lost hero. Her hug was grand, eloquent. “Och, Bowes, me friend, ‘tis happy this Pegeen is to have ye back in the fold. I’ve missed ye, ye old buzzard.”

  Several well-dressed young ladies, who were lounging in the sitting room off the main entrance when they arrived, rushed into the hallway to welcome him, obviously joyful at his return. They surrounded him.