1863 Saratoga Summer Read online

  “One yellow-haired girl cried out, “Bowes, you’re here again. Will you stay a while this time?”

  A dark-haired beauty screeched, “We didn’t get to see enough of you last summer.” She tittered into her hand when Pegeen glared at her.

  Somewhat embarrassed, Bowes nodded and introduced his family amid much noise and exuberance. Several of the young women eyed Connor quite brazenly, and Sinead grew annoyed over his preening in front of them. His instant rapport with them was ridiculous, she thought to herself. He acted as if he had known them for years.

  With almost no trouble, for they brought little luggage with them, the tired O’Malley family and Bowes settled into their upstairs rooms. While Sinead and Robbie ate a cold meal in their room, Connor and Bowes took the tack off the horses, brushed them down then fed and watered them. They would be ready for the short jaunt to Bowes’ house overlooking the shores of Saratoga Lake, which supposedly was only a mile or so away.

  Although tired from their long journey, Connor, Sinead and Robbie climbed up into the carriage. Pegeen, whom Bowes had invited, sat next to him on the driver’s seat. The horses grew a bit frisky for they sensed they were nearing a place they enjoyed. They entered the rutted road to the property with high-stepping energy, to the sound of Pegeen’s laughter, almost a chortle, over something Bowes whispered to her.

  The sun was almost down but it was still light outside by the time they reached the part of Bowes’ land where they could see the outline of the house from the road. A brooding straggle of stone, all gray and brown in the soft pink of fading light, clung to a grassy knoll overlooking a valley of green fields. The shape of the house seemed to move in many directions at once, to the naked eye.

  A bulky wedge of forest, with massive oaks, huge maples, several sturdy elms and hundreds of fir trees surrounded the back and sides of the house. Smaller trees grew at the front, just enough to shade the house yet grant a good view of the green fields below. A fast-moving, rocky stream ran through the largest and most level of the lower fields.

  “My God, Bowes, what a wonderful place for the raising of horses.”

  “Aye, that’s always been my dream. The winters are a bit rough on the beasts but they grow stronger, and most often healthier,” he said, looking at his daughter under his lashes. “Just a dream o’ mine, one I couldn’t possibly do all by meself.”

  “If this is where you’d rather be then why have you been wasting your time in the city for all these years?” Sinead asked, annoyed that he must have confided something of his dreams to Connor and left her out. It was not the first time he’d done that on their journey here, and she didn’t like it.

  “I would never be leaving Robbie or ye with those Dewitt vultures. Now, would I, darlin’? I had to get yer problems reconciled first.” A foolish grin spread across his face, asking for forgiveness.

  “Well, now I have a husband in my pocket, so to speak, do you intend to be leaving me alone, to the vultures, now?” In the space of a heartbeat, her anger surfaced. Her voice got more strident. “When I still don’t know which end is up?”

  “I think I’m leaving ye in competent hands. Don’t you think so?” His shoulders hunched forward as if protecting himself. He cast a glance at Connor, who, with Robbie on his lap, only shook his head and grinned. Bowes sputtered, “Those hands certainly look big enough to do a man’s job from where I’m sittin’.”

  Sinead shrugged, disgusted with their bantering. “Och!” She stood up in the carriage, her hand blocking what was left of the glare of the dying sun from her eyes. “The house doesn’t really look like it’s been lived in, Da. It’s got a sad, lonesome look to it.”

  “Sit down, child, and I’ll drive straight up to it.”

  Sinead plopped back in place. She refused to look at Connor, wanting to wipe the silly grin from his face and her da’s. She sat on the edge of her seat and scrunched her face each time she was jostled in her seat by the action of the carriage on the rutted roadway. She clutched the door at the side of the carriage.

  Connor said nothing but stared at everything. “Bowes, the place does have a deserted look to it. There must be some reason for that. Why haven’t you lived here?”

  “I couldn’t just move up here by meself. I don’t like living alone.”

  Pegeen chuckled. “You can say that again.” She poked Bowes in the arm. “Do ye, man?”

  Bowes smiled at her then turned his back. “I bought the place for Sinead and me grandson. It’s for the time when they’d be free to live their own lives, away from the nastiness of the city. The Dewitts put a stopper on me dream, I can tell ye. I couldn’t leave New York City without my daughter and her son, now could I? What kind of man would ye think me to be then?”

  The truth burst on Connor with startling clarity. He saw the need in Bowes face, in his posture, in his voice.

  Sinead did too. She snapped, “Then it’s me you’re blaming for not realizing your dreams?”

  “Nae, lassie. ‘Tis not yer fault that ye tried to be decent to the Cavanaughs and those others who have little to do with decency.”

  Connor interrupted. “Let’s not argue amongst ourselves. There’s much to be done to make this family a real and loving one. We’ll all have to work at it and slinging vicious thoughts won’t be helping.”

  The silence gave confirmation of their thoughts. The closer they got to the house, the more Sinead realized how big it was.

  Suddenly, Connor saw the shape of it. A longing stabbed through his chest. He was shocked. “Bowes, it looks like O’Malley House at home. Different stone but so much like it. That’s very strange,” he murmured and stared at Bowes more closely. “Very strange, indeed…”

  The carriage pulled up in front of the house. Bowes pulled back on the reins and murmured a soft, “Whoa.”

  Robbie, who was quiet for a change, asked in a soft voice. “Mama, can I go up to the house? It’s like a castle. I like it and Grandda Bowes said it was for me. And you, too,” he added.

  Connor leaped down from the carriage and lifted his hands. “Aye, son. Come down.” He set Robbie on the ground, held his hand out and approached the porch at the main entrance. “This house is like my home in Ireland, only this porch goes all the way across the front. Mine in Ireland is smaller.”

  Bowes watched them circle the house. When they finally reappeared on the other side, he took mental note of Connor’s expression.

  “’Tis a lovely home, Bowes. You should be proud to live here, like a grand duke or something.” Connor smiled up at him.

  “Nae, ‘tis not for me, laddie. ‘Tis where Sinead and ye will raise young Robbie and the rest of yer family that’s to come. ‘Tis a house for a young person, a young family home to build on,” Bowes said.

  His mouth hung open and knowing his skepticism showed, Connor stared at Bowes in total disbelief. One didn’t give away property and houses. They were the very things that sustained a man. “Why would you be giving a house to us?”

  “Ye don’t have one here, do ye?”

  “Nae, but I have one in Ireland that belongs to my family. When Sinead, Robbie and I go there it’ll…”

  “What do you mean, when Sinead and Robbie go there?” Sinead stood in the carriage, her hands fisted and set on her hips. With teeth clenched and voice dropped low, she asked, “Whoever said I’m going to Ireland, now or ever?”

  Her nasty reaction drew Connor’s complete attention and pushed him to the brink of anger. Why was she being so difficult? A horrible truth pierced deep into his soul. He tipped his head toward her, losing every bit of desire he felt for her, no matter how lush and vibrant she seemed. “You’re a married woman now, lass. You’ll go where your husband goes,” he growled softly.

  The message wasn’t lost on her. “First of all, I’m not your lass. Second of all, going to Ireland was never part of this marriage scheme to my knowledge.” A derisive smile crossed her face. “I married to save my son, who was given to me by his darling mother at his birthing
then by his father who became my first husband. I will not leave Robbie somewhere nor shall I take him away from everything he knows.”

  “Be careful what you say, Sinead. You may regret it more than you expect,” Connor whispered between tight lips, his anger at the forefront.

  His whisper was a sinister reminder of all she stood to lose, but Sinead pretended to ignore the jab. She climbed out of the carriage and strode directly at Connor, shaking her finger up into his face. “I’ll not be staying here in this Saratoga, with you or anyone else. I’ll fix up this house for you, for my da. Then I will go somewhere and make a life for myself and my child.

  Anger flooded her voice and lodged an ache in her heart. She looked at her father. “And I won’t ever be living here in your house.” She rounded on Connor. “You go back to Ireland by yourself if that’s your desire. I’ll not be going with you, for sure.”

  Bowes swung around in his seat. “Be quiet, the both of ye. Robbie is coming off the porch. I don’t want him to hear yer tongues tripping over themselves. He’s been through enough without the two of ye spitting in front of him like two fuming cats.”

  “Mama, come see,” Robbie called out to Sinead. “You can look through the windows and see inside. I saw my room. It has a toy horse in it.” Robbie ran to her and hugged her tight. “Is this going to be my house?”

  Sinead and Connor stood toe to toe in a battle of wills done through their eyes. Connor’s gaze bore more deeply into hers before flicking to Robbie. Sinead lowered her hand and kept it on Robbie’s small form, holding him tighter than she might have wanted.

  “Are you angry, Mama?” he asked, tipping his head up to see her.

  “Oh, not at you darlin’,” she answered, about to lash out at Connor again. She bent and put her arms around Robbie. “I’m just surprised. Grandda Bowes gave us his house. We’ll have to do some fixing on it, but it will be yours, for sure, in the distant future,” she said, glaring at Connor but surprised at herself, knowing she never planned on living in the country. “You don’t want to make your other grandparents sad if you left them. You wouldn’t want to do that, now would you?”

  Bowes scowled but said nothing. He just stood back and watched the actions going on about him. Pegeen stared at the two combatants.

  Connor tossed Sinead a baleful look that danced on the edge of a dangerous precipice. “I’ll fix up this house until it’s looking so fine you’ll be wanting to live here forever. Then we’ll talk…oh wife of mine.” He stormed back to the carriage. “’Tis getting dark. We’d better be moving back to the boarding house.”

  “I’ll say it again. I will never live in that house.”

  Connor grabbed Sinead’s elbow. She flinched then snatched it away from beneath his touch. He warred with the hard steel of reserve he’d just erected around himself.

  “Aye, that’s a good idea ye had, Connor. To go. Let’s do it,” Bowes said in a loud, hearty voice. “Come Sinead. Robbie. ‘Tis time to go back to our rooms at the other place. Sleep has a power all its own and I think we’ll be needing a bit o’ that.”

  Sinead climbed into the carriage with reluctance. She was ready to see this battle to its end and send Connor back to his home in Ireland…without Robbie or her. This marriage was a farce. “I may sleep, but I shan’t be changing my mind about staying here or going to Ireland.”

  Connor spun in his seat to face her. “We’ll talk about this on the morrow…”

  Pegeen spoke up from the driver’s seat, next to Bowes. “I know it’s none of my business, but don’t be talking in the presence of the laddie here.” She pointed. “Look at the wee tyke. He’s plenty upset already.”

  “Och, Robbie. ‘Tis sorry I am, love. Your da and I were merely having a disagreement. You know, like the ones the Dewitts sometimes have, and the servants as well. It doesn’t mean anything.” She gathered him in her arms and rocked him back and forth.

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened as she glared at Connor. When she spoke, the words were for Robbie but the look was for Connor. “Don’t you worry, my darlin’, Mama Jane will take care of you. Always and ever…”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sunlight glittered through gaping pocket of air and climbed the tall sash windows. A slight breeze ruffled sheer curtains, flicking them softly against the wood.

  The gentle sound penetrated Sinead’s consciousness. She drifted drowsily from sleep to semi-awake then stretched her arms over her head like a lazy cat. Every muscle in her body ached from riding in the carriage for so many days and the tension she held within her since her husband arrived on the ship. Her groan shattered the peaceful silence of the room. She rolled to one side like a limp rag doll, opened one eye and noticed a delicate tracery of tree branches in shifting patterns on the curtains and shiny wood floor.

  Where was she? Slightly puzzled, she looked around the room at the ornate furniture, the flowered wallpaper and remembered the trip to Saratoga. She sat up in bed and stretched again.

  “Och, Robbie, love, ‘tis a most beautiful morning. Perhaps your grandda was right. A good night’s sleep solves many problems.” Robbie had fallen asleep in the boarding house room as soon as they returned from her da’s property and she not long after. Not wanting to move again, she waited for his answer, but none came.

  She glanced at the small iron bed where she placed him last evening after he fell half asleep in her arms. Her body straightened and tightened up. He wasn’t there. She rolled over and placed a foot on the floor. The child never went anywhere at the Dewitt’s without Isabel or her by his side.

  She sprang from the bed, panic rising to her throat, and pulled on the clothes she’d worn yesterday, clothes she barely was able to shake out before falling into the featherbed that beckoned to her. Half-buttoned, she sat on the bed and slipped her bare feet into her dusty shoes. She tried to fix the buttons of her shirt as she flew to the head of the stairs, calling, “Robbie? Robbie, darlin’?”

  Frantic, not quite awake, she raced down the stairs then peeked into the sitting room. Seeing no one, she tore to the small dining room. “Robbie?” She halted just inside the dining room doorway. “Where is my son?” she asked of three attractive ladies lounging around a dark, circular table in the center of the room. “Has anyone seen my wee son?”

  “Wee?” cried one of the ladies, dressed in a feathery fuchsia nightgown with an untied silk robe drawn over it. She took a long, deep draft of a cigar and let it out in a stream of white smoke.

  Sinead began to cough. The other women looked at her as if she were crazy. One shook her head in disbelief then stared.

  Sinead looked down at her clothes. Half the buttons were undone and several were buttoned in the wrong place. The material gaped at inappropriate places and it looked like she had slept in it.

  “Och, my heavens,” she cried. Tears burned in her eyes. Self-consciously, she smoothed the crumbled material of the white cotton shirt.

  Pegeen, the owner of the boarding house who had greeted Bowes so profusely, entered through the swinging door from the kitchen. “Well, and ‘tis a good morning to all you late risers.” She nodded to the women at the table, and liquid from the cup she held in her hand sloshed to the floor. She put the cup down, grabbed a clean cloth from the sideboard and bent to wipe up the wet spots on the floor.

  Sinead stood rooted to the spot and stared at the woman. Something in the voice and relaxed attitude tweaked a memory of the days before America. She tilted her head as if listening but continued to stare with wide eyes.

  “And a right good morning to you, young lady. Did ye have a nice sleep?” she asked Sinead, while her light red curls bobbed with every motion. “Just sit right down at the table and I’ll get ye some breakfast to fill those bones. Ye must be starved. Ye barely ate enough for a birdie last evening, you being so tired and all.”

  “Have you seen my son? He’s gone from my room Do you know where he is?” Sinead asked, her voice accusatory and rising.

  “Why, of course
, I do, darlin’. He’s gone off with the men folk, with yer husband and da. They went into the village to get new clothes and supplies, they said, but I’m thinking they went along to check things out and see what’s going on.” Pegeen smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “This place is a hotbed of elegance during the summer. All sorts of activities go on for those who come to partake of the waters and those who come just to partake.” Raised eyebrows punctuated the remark.

  Coarse laughter erupted from the three women at the table.

  The flush accompanying the embarrassment of being laughed at streaked its way up Sinead’s body. “Why didn’t they tell me?”

  “Couldn’t bear to wake you. They said you were sleeping soundly and far too exhausted. Two kind-hearted gentlemen they are, for sure.” The woman put her hands on her hips and sauntered toward the door to the kitchen. “And very handsome, too, I must admit. Made this old heart flutter with joy just for the looking at them.”

  The women huddled at the table laughed again, somewhat shyly this time, and murmured politely about Connor’s and Bowes’ handsome, masculine looks.

  One woman from the night before said in a husky voice, “And your wee boy is delightful. He greeted us with such seriousness and a bit of a bow.”

  A younger, yellow-haired girl, with her mouth full of scone, added, “A boy that age is usually full of devilment. Your little fellow was so polite. By the way, I’m Esmeralda, better known as Essie. I have a room on the third floor, way in the back.” Essie grinned shyly, her shiny, white teeth a brilliant flash of light.

  Pointing at her ample bust, the brunette stated, “And I’m known as little Loralie or Lorie.” She shot Sinead a big smile and fluttered her lashes. “And let me say that I think your hair is lovely, all soft and curling around your face.” She glanced at the others. “What I wouldn’t give for hair like that!”

  Sinead ran a shaky hand through her tangled hair. “Thank you but yours is equally as lovely,” Sinead replied, a blush stinging her face with heat, “all dark and shiny.”