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1863 Saratoga Summer Page 5
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Page 5
Connor had the address in his pocket. Across the thoroughfare, carriages lined the street. “I wish my newly acquired wife sent someone to meet us as she said. Her letter didn’t sound like she was eager for a new husband, or a new life, and her comment, about disliking horses, doesn’t bode well for our future together.”
“Let’s wait a bit longer then. At least, until late evening. That’s when we have to be off the ship.”
Con.” Egan pulled on Connor’s sleeve like a child. “Connor, look over there,” Egan shouted, pointing in the direction of a milling crowd.
“What is it ye see, laddie?”
“See.” He tugged Connor’s sleeve again. “Nae, over there. A wee man. He’s carrying a sign that has our names on it. And he’s weaving in and out of the crowd, fast, coming toward this steamer.”
Connor sighed in relief at the sight of the placard the man carried. He’d never been to a city this size before, a city with so much activity, so much pushing and shoving, and he didn’t like it at all. He had his plans ready. He would consummate this marriage quickly and hurry back to Ireland and the family he loved. His father was right. The beloved horses would still be there.
~*~
Bowes stopped at the ship’s gangplank and called up to the first officer, who stood at its head. “Hey there, officer, can I come aboard? I have some passengers to find. I know they were coming on this steamer.”
“Aye, you can. But be careful. Don’t be pushing those who want to get off, or I’ll toss you into the drink,” the man replied in a stiff, superior tone.
“I wouldn’t be thinking of doing a thing. I have me own calling. As long as I find the men I’m looking for. Do you know the O’Malleys?”
“O’Malleys? Oh, the big one, dark is he? And the other, a mite smaller, fresher mouth and red-haired?”
“If they still look somewhat the same, that would be them, I suppose. And where would I be finding them?” Bowes asked with a bit of deference.
The officer pointed his finger at two men who stood at the rail, away from those departing the ship. “Those be them. At the other end of the railing.”
Bowes glanced over. A fiery-haired lad, looking a bit peaked, stood talking to the huge dark-haired fellow standing next to him. Bowes experienced a short flash of memory of them as children but couldn’t remember which one was which, so mixed up they were in his mind.
After twenty years, what could he expect? Which one had married his daughter? The redhead might tickle her fancy. The big one, handsome under that straggly hair, might scare his poor daughter half to death. He chuckled to himself. But not for long, if he had any guesses left to him about men and women.
“Ho, O’Malleys. If that be you two, ‘tis Bowes Brennan at your service, lads,” he called in a loud, raucous voice. “Are either of ye ready to meet the bride? I’m her da.”
“Och, Lord,” Connor commented, poking Egan again. “Me new wife’s father. We certainly weren’t expecting him. There’s something about him that looks familiar. I wonder what he wants here.”
“Probably to check you out, Connor. I’m sure he feels his daughter is worth more than you do. And that’s a fact, for sure.” Egan grinned. “And ‘tis fitting, he looks familiar. He looks only a mite bigger than a leprechaun and ye’ve seen a million Irishmen who look just like him.”
“Aye, you’re right.” Connor slapped Egan on the shoulder for good measure. “Mr. Brennan? ‘Tis us, sir, the O’Malley brothers, Connor and Egan,” Connor said, drawing himself up to his full height.
Bowes Brennan marched toward them but stopped about three feet away, wondering if they might recognize him somehow. He carefully studied them then tossed the placard over the side and into the water, where it splashed and bobbed away on the current. “Well, ye don’t look like much now but I suppose ye’ll do better with a bit o’ cleaning up. Which one of you is Connor, me son-in-law and husband to the only daughter I have left to me?”
“And good day to you, Mr. Brennan,” Connor said in a voice filled with annoyance at the man’s suspicious stare. “We’ve just come over the pond from Ireland. It was a long and tedious journey. We spent most of our time caring for those who sickened on the journey. ‘Tis lucky you are I didn’t bring my horses with me…”
Bowes stepped closer to the two younger men. “Horses? Me favorite animal. I would love to see an O’Malley-raised horse. I’ve been driving a common carriage here to the docks and back again for so long, I’ve almost forgotten what good horse flesh looks like.” Bowes smiled, loving the effect he had on the two youngsters, who stood rooted to the deck, glancing at each other and looking utterly bewildered.
“Well, enough o’ that. Follow me, Connor, me boyo. Leave yer brother here to guard yer things or ye won’t be having them when ye leave the ship.”
Connor started after the man but turned back. He stared at Egan, opening his eyes wide then staring up at the sky. He made the sign of the cross and smiled when Egan laughed, nodding and gesturing him to go forward.
Bowes Brennan, thinking Connor was behind him, continued talking. “…bringing yer bride and the Mrs. she’s staying with to the docks here. We got caught up in some unusual traffic, more than on most days. Got the feeling there’s something afoot. Maybe ‘tis cause of the heat.”
He stopped, turned and looked Connor over once again. His voice carried over the water. “Well, I guess ye’ll have to do. To be honest, there was no one else I could call upon but yer da, with such a short notification and all.”
Egan chuckled into his scruffy beard. “Well, I guess you’re in for it now, Con. Seems as the widow has a randy-like da.”
Connor swung around to face his brother and said behind his hand. “I’m thinking this is not a funny situation. If my wife looks anything like her da then I’m in for more serious trouble than you think. Our mares are finer looking.”
He turned back to Mr. Brennan. “Listen, man, if you want, I can get cleaned up. But, I’ll be wanting one evening to myself to do it in. Can you get us a room at an inn?”
“There’s no time, laddie. Ye’re a married man now, and ye need meet with the woman ye married…Even if ye do look like the hordes of hell.”
“Well, you’re no raving beauty either. If the woman looks like you, I’ll be hard put to make it right.”
Connor stepped toward the man. Egan followed them a bit. “Let’s get the deed done. If I scare the poor woman to her grave then I’ll be a free man, ready to turn right around and go back to Ireland. Now, let’s march and have done with this bloody mess.”
Bowes spun around and stomped toward the gangplank. “Hurry up, laddie. The sooner this part is over with, the happier I’ll be. Try not to scare the lass.”
“’Tis not the lass I’m worrying over.” Connor turned back to Egan and shouted to him. “You stay here. Guard our things. I’ll go find out what I can.”
“Aye,” came Egan’s reply, muffled from the laughter he was holding in. “Go ahead now, Con.”
Connor frowned at his brother for taking this entire affair so lightly. “I don’t even know what the woman looks like.”
“Didn’t she write you about her appearance?” Egan asked, in an abortive attempt at seriousness.
“You know what lasses say when it comes to how they fancy themselves. Besides she told me more about the boy than herself. All she said having to do with herself, is that she would meet the ship.” Connor groaned with great vigor. “Have your fun now, Egan. There might be the devil to pay later.”
“Och, Connor, I’m thinking you see only the bad in things in life. For myself, I think we’d be better to wait until she sets her eyes on you. Sure an’ ye’d scare the devil himself, looking all wild with that dark beard, long hair and those dark-eyes. Go on with ye now.” Egan turned away and went back to the rail, murmuring softly to himself in Gaelic.
Connor wondered what he was doing here in America, a place he never desired to see. He spent countless days from the day he drew the long s
traw until the day he left on the ship, haranguing his brothers, pleading for one of them to take his place. Even during goodbyes he tried to weasel one into going in his stead.
His old da wouldn’t allow him to go back on his word. The man was well aware Connor didn’t want to participate in this fiasco. But the marriage certificate bore his name and he had to go.
His dread of the woman with whom he must share the rest of his days, regardless of what difficulties they might find, made him shuffle his feet in a slow then even slower march. And she hates horses? That was the most stunning blow of all.
Once on the gangplank, he looked about, hoping beyond hope the widow wouldn’t be displeasing to the eye, enough to put him off. Plus, he would have preferred their first meeting be in a somewhat secluded area, so they might be able to conceal their initial distaste for one another.
Having become accustomed to the motion of the ship, the lack of it made him shaky as he stepped off the plank and followed the short man in front of him. The mass of people gathered between the sailing vessel and a grand steamer in the next berth did nothing to ease his frame of mind.
He felt out of place here, in a city. His former life was one of farms and animals. He knew he looked like a stable lad, not the heir to a fine Irish home. He looked down at his clothing and tried to brush it into some semblance of cleanliness.
The outfit was faded from washings in the ocean waters and grimy in spots. He took a cloth from a pocket and tried to wipe some of the grime away. When that didn’t work, he shoved the cloth back into the pocket. He really didn’t care. His one dark suit would stay wrapped in its package until he was more comfortable in his new surroundings.
If he were to have something worthwhile to do in this country before traveling back to Ireland, only the horses would do it for him. He had to find some horses. He mumbled an oath to himself. “Raising horses is what I know and what I understand. I’ll work with some horsemen here then take their knowledge back to Ireland with me.”
Ten or more carriages lined up on the nearest street to the docks. Several of them contained women, but none contained only a single woman. It never occurred to him that women did not travel alone in the city like they did in the villages back home. He glanced at the crowded wharf, at the people who jostled and elbowed each other.
All at once, a great cry arose from the crowd. It seemed to be directed at someone emerging from the steamship. Connor turned in a circle as people surged toward the steamer, crying and shouting a name he couldn’t understand. Either they were excited to welcome a family member or it was some kind of celebrity.
Bewildered, Connor rushed across the wooden beams beneath his feet toward the carriages parked along the roadway. He kept Bowes Brennan in view. In one carriage where the man seemed to be heading, three women, their faces turned in his direction, stared across the thoroughfare.
He stopped in his tracks. One of the women was a bit older than the other two. Her sophistication, seemingly regal bearing and tight lips made Connor nervous. Afraid she was his bride, his heart plunged. He stepped back and sharply looked around. Egan, standing on the deck, waved to him. He started toward the ship but stopped himself before he had taken two steps. He made himself smile and whirled around to face the carriage.
The two younger women in the carriage looked like servants. Neither was dressed any better than the other. The one furthest away stared at him boldly. The lass in the middle acted shy and partially hid herself behind the older woman. To his practiced eye, she seemed virginal, unsure of herself, like an untouched village lass.
Bowes Brennan stopped at that very carriage. Connor straightened and moved forward. He dragged his feet, reluctant to hurry up this meeting. With every step he took, the bones in his body ached. He longed to be back on the steamer, sailing to Ireland and his horses.
The closer he got, the more outrageous the entire situation seemed to him. His mouth turned down and he half-closed his eyes. But as an O’Malley, he promised he would make the best of it, no matter what.
~*~
All of a sudden, Sinead spied her father shoving his way through a crowd of people toward the place where she waited in the carriage. He had a broad smile on his face and his chest was puffed out like a peacock’s. He turned back and motioned to someone.
The women in the carriage gasped. Oh, no, Sinead thought. This can’t be my new husband.
A dirty-looking man, all dark beard and dark eyes, followed closely behind her da. His hair stood up like a rumpled haystack. He was a giant Irishman with icy dark brown eyes, like those of a gunman.
He must be her new husband’s groom from the looks of him and the state of his clothing. Of course, that was it. A laird’s son wouldn’t be traveling alone across the ocean without a manservant of some sort. Laird O’Malley did mention his sons were horsemen. Naturally, a horseman would have someone crudely vulgar as a hireling.
The man was muscular, fit as a groom should be, and totally Celtic looking—a black Irish thug, for sure. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks. A straggly beard hung down below his chin and obscured much of his face. His hair touched his shoulder and was pulled back with a cord. His clothes, worn-looking with the colors faded, were wrinkled as if he’d been sleeping in them.
Her emotions raw, Sinead had no stomach for the first meeting with either this groom or his master. She wished the entire business of the marriage hadn’t happened in the first place. Wanting to hide her distaste, she slid further behind Adelaide and pursed her lips into a sneer. The approaching rogue’s master should have seen fit to come to her himself, to introduce himself properly.
What could one expect of the ignorant son of an Irish laird, who was probably spoiled by far too much undue attention?
Well, there was nothing she could do about it now, being already in the soup with the deed done.
She stole a peek at Adelaide, whose eyebrows were raised almost to her hairline. The bird on her hat was sitting at her ear. Her eyes bulged out and she leaned forward over the carriage door. Sinead wondered what the woman thought of this spectacle of a groom coming to meet them instead of the man himself.
Her da, so short and wiry, moved swiftly across the crowded wharf, wending his way between people and carts. The giant, towering over most people on the wharf and dodging wagons, vendors and sailors, continued to step closely after her da. Several times, the big man wheeled around and darted one way or the other. He scowled at every person who bumped into him.
The closer the two incongruous men came to the carriage, the harder Sinead’s ribs moved in an out in an erratic rhythm, the warmer she became. Her ribs slammed against the boning in her corset. She drew closer to Adelaide, as if for protection, and grew faint.
Sinead’s head throbbed. She had an odd, dizzy feeling. Little spots like insects danced before her eyes. No doubt it was due to the heat. Bile rose to her throat and lodged there. Then, an old Irish statement flew into her mind, ‘the devil ye know…’ She almost swooned.
When her da stopped at the carriage, the tall man did, too. The black-haired giant pulled in a bit of air through clenched teeth, frowned then he straightened himself. He seemed to grow even larger, more intimidating, but tried to look pleasant, by leering at them.
His dark eyes looked directly at Adelaide. He tilted his head and nodded, saying, “Sinead O’Malley, I presume?” He extended his hand as if expecting someone to take it.
With a wave of heat, the atmosphere choked her. Dizziness assailed Sinead, thick as the damp mists of Ireland. She couldn’t speak. The devil had filed down the edges of her tongue. She pressed her hands against her chest in prayer or supplications then couldn’t move.
Adelaide gasped and fell back against the carriage seat, her mouth opened wide. She gulped and asked, “Are you the Laird O’Malley?” Her mouth opened wider. She made a choking sound.
“Well, madam, not until me da’s gone to his rewards…”
~*~
Connor studied the three wom
en in the carriage. One hid behind the older, more ugly woman, the one he assumed was his wife. From what little he could see of her, she was far more attractive than his wife but seemed to be struck dumb.
The buxom lass with straight hair the color of wheat looked him over carefully. She seemed to like what she saw, for she fluttered her eyelashes at him in a decidedly coy manner. Rather a brazen hussy at that, but one he was sure Egan would find amusing.
Connor waggled his eyebrows back at her, figuring the two younger ones were probably daughters or servants. He glanced at the woman he assumed was his wife. He wondered why she looked at him with such wild, stricken eyes.
He knew he needed a bath, a shave and a change of clothing. He groaned into his beard and looked at the ground for a moment to gather himself. He scuffed his feet in the dust of the roadway. His wife seemed somewhat older than the other two but none the less, extremely well-dressed and rather attractive. Connor tried to smile.
A fight broke out, not far from the carriage. His wife shrieked, the buxom lass laughed at the antics of the men battling. The one in the middle sat with her eyes and mouth open. She stared vacantly at the fisticuffs.
Totally bewildered by the amount of noise and activity emanating from the surrounding environs, Connor turned to scan the area as if he could quell the chaos with a look. Then he realized that no one had spoken in minutes. The women in the carriage and the driver, his wife’s da, merely stared at him.
His wife asked, “Are you the Laird O’Malley?”
He tried to smile at her but could only sputter. “’Tis a strange question you’ve asked me. Am I the Laird O’Malley? Well, I’ll tell you as I told you in me letter. Not until my da meets his Maker. Is it a problem?”
His wife spoke up yet again. “We were led to believe…” She turned to the younger woman next to her and yanked her forward impatiently. She put both her hands behind the girl’s back as if to hold her upright. “I’m Adelaide Dewitt. This is your Jane O’Malley. This girl here. She’s your wife.”