The Visit by Margaret P.
(With thanks to my betas, Terri Derr and Suzanne Lyte) (Words: 4,655)
Chapter Two
In the morning Scott rose at dawn as usual. He met with Cipriano and helped some of the men load the last of the timber and nails needed for the new bridge onto the wagon ready for the following day. By the time the first bell rang for breakfast, his stomach growled for oatmeal with eggs, bacon and biscuits to follow.
He cut across Teresa's garden towards the kitchen door. What would the Eliots make of mealtimes? It had taken him a while to get used to fewer courses and plainer fare. Poor Teresa: she'd made such an effort. If she only knew how Spartan the table looked to him when he first arrived.
Scott had almost reached the arch into the courtyard when he saw Beth sitting on the bench seat beneath the old orange tree. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap as she gazed at the rose climbing the adobe wall; the first soft-apricot blooms of spring nestled in the greenery.
"Good morning. I've always like that rose too. It has the most wonderful scent in the evenings."
"I know. Your mother planted it from a cutting I sent her from my mother's garden. I'm so pleased to find it's survived." Beth smiled up at him and patted the seat next to her. "I miss Catherine even now. It's comforting to find a symbol of our friendship flourishing here."
Scott sat down and removed his hat. He fingered the brim as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I never knew about the rose. Murdoch didn't say."
"It's possible he doesn't know. I sent the cutting to Catherine during her first year at Lancer, after she wrote of being a little homesick. Your mother wouldn't admit feeling that way to Murdoch. She was always afraid he'd think she regretted marrying him. She never did of course. Your mother loved your father and her life here. She was just a little lonely at first, being so far away from all her friends and family. Murdoch was working most of the time, and neighbours lived so far away in those days; she had to learn to entertain and occupy herself."
"The ranch must have seemed like another world from her life in Boston. I found it hard to adjust at first, and I'd some experience of roughing it in the army. For a young woman, especially one from high society, it must have been ten times as difficult." Scott gripped his hat more tightly. Would she have come if she had known what it was like? Would any young gentlewoman from Boston?
"She was in love and determined to make her new life work. Never underestimate what a woman can do when she's in love."
"But she never told my father how she felt, about being lonely or homesick?"
"I think he guessed and did what he could, but no, as far as I know, she never admitted it openly."
"I always imagined my parents' marriage to be a good one without any arguments or secrets."
"I was your mother's best friend and confidante before and after her marriage, Scott, and I can assure you it was a good marriage, one of the best. All husbands and wives argue occasionally and keep small secrets from each other. Some would say that's what makes for a happy marriage."
"You don't mean that. You don't argue with Dr Eliot or keep secrets from him, I'm sure."
"You make me laugh, Scott—and cry a little—that you might really think like that. Your grandfather cared for you in every way money could buy, and he loved you, but you have missed out on so much by not being part of a normal family. I'm sorry. I should have found a way to include you more in our lives." Beth took his hand in hers and ran gentle fingers over the calluses. "You have a rancher's hands now, strong and honest like good leather. It was one of the things Catherine loved most about your father. She used to say she always felt safe when his hands held hers."
Scott stared at his hands. They had hurt like hell the first few weeks at the ranch, but he had struggled through the splits and grazes until they'd toughened up. Now they served him well and he barely noticed them at all. "I wonder…" There was insistent clanging, and they both looked towards the house. "The second bell for breakfast—we'd best go in."
He offered his arm to Beth and they joined the others at the table. Scott couldn't quite work out whether it was because almost everyone had had a decent night's sleep or for some other reason, but they all seemed more light-hearted. Even Murdoch, who had dozed by Johnny's bedside most of the night, whistled an old Highland air as he and Scott got the carryall ready to take them to church.
Aggie and Buck Addison had invited them to dinner afterwards. Everyone went, except for Johnny and Emily. Scott thought it very neighbourly of the Addisons to invite the Eliots so soon after their arrival; likely it was a subtle attempt by Aggie to take the pressure off the family while Johnny was so unwell.
"Everything looks delicious, Aggie. You really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble on our account." Beth helped herself to peas and carrots and passed the serving dish along to Murdoch.
"I must confess I have an ulterior motive." Aggie moved the potatoes to where her guest could reach them. "I'm chairwoman of the Green River branch of the American Women's Suffrage Association. Forgive me, Beth, but I was hoping to persuade you to say a few words one day during your stay—an open lecture?"
"Well, I hadn't planned on making any speeches while I was in California."
"I know, but I couldn't believe our good fortune when Murdoch told me you were coming." Aggie smiled her appreciation in his direction, but Murdoch was engrossed in a conversation with Buck about the merits of Yellowstone National Park. "I had to ask. I've admired your work for abolition and women's rights for years, and several younger members are interested in what Katie can tell them about educational opportunities."
"Oh, please say you will." Lowering her wine glass, Teresa cut across Murdoch and Buck's conversation to add her support for the idea. "I'm sure ladies would travel to hear you from other towns as well."
Beth laughed at the eagerness in her face. "You make it very hard to refuse. How do you feel about the idea, Katie?"
Sitting between Buck and Scott, Katie appeared reticent. "I'd rather leave the speech-making to you, Mama, but I'm happy to talk with those who want more information about colleges or training afterwards."
Scott gave Katie a look of sympathy and offered her the gravy. He had been at the wrong end of both Aggie and Teresa's enthusiasm before. It wasn't easy to say no. Dropping her eyes to her plate, Katie gave a little shrug and avoided looking at him again for some time. He was sorry about that, but he was glad she'd refused to stand up before an audience at a public meeting. He was not sure he approved of women speaking in public. He didn't think badly of Beth. She was older and had come from an abolitionist background. He knew she'd only ventured to speak outside the salons and private gatherings since the war. For a more mature woman, public oratory was perhaps acceptable, but there was something unseemly about it for younger women.
"That's settled then. We're here until Monday week, Aggie. Name a day and if it's all right with Murdoch, we'll both be there." Beth placed her hand on Murdoch's wrist as she spoke and he turned from his discussion with Buck. "Can you take us to Green River on…?"
"Friday, Murdoch." Aggie beamed around the table. "I took the liberty of provisionally booking the reception room at The Occidental for the afternoon. Charlie Foster has the type set for tomorrow's Gazette to say two o'clock. I need to let him know today if the day and time suits."
Speaker and transport confirmed Aggie slipped out between the apple pie and the coffee to ask one of the hands to ride into town with a message for Charlie Foster and The Occidental.
"Trust Aggie to have everything pre-arranged," Murdoch chuckled later as he described the dinner-time ambush to Johnny and Emily. "I hope you really don't mind, Beth? I should have warned you Aggie can play dirty."
"But it's such a good idea, and I'm so looking forward to it." Teresa stood at the end of Johnny's bed, gripping the brass bed knob. "I only joined the AWSA a few months ago, and there is such a lot I don't know."
"And exactly what sort of things do you want to know, my dear?" Borrowing one of Johnny's spare pillows, Beth twisted around in the armchair and put it behind her back. "What should I include in a speech to a Californian audience?"
Her request opened a floodgate of feminine conversation; the men could hardly get a word in edge ways. Certainly, Scott had never heard Emily talk so much. She was as eager as Teresa to hear Beth speak, and was actually prepared to abandon his brother for the afternoon. "Maria would see you didn't starve and Jelly could see to anything else. As long as you have a bell or some way of signalling when someone is needed, I think you could be left on your own for a while by then." She pecked Johnny on the cheek and followed the other women and Murdoch from the room.
"Thank you, Beth!" Johnny raised his arms to the ceiling as soon as the door closed.
"Looking forward to being on your own, brother?" Scott sat down in the armchair. "I can't say I blame you."
Taking a notebook from his pocket, he contemplated the problems of the day ahead. How much timber and rock would they need to construct the new bridge? His pencil scratched at the page as Johnny tried to help by calculating the quantities in his head. Eventually, though, Johnny's eyes closed, the muscles in his face relaxed and his breathing became slow and regular.
Murdoch relieved Scott just after ten o'clock. "Get to bed. You've a big day tomorrow." Scott got up and stretched, and his father took over the armchair. "With luck he'll sleep through the night. The pain wakes him if he rolls."
It wouldn't if Johnny would only take a decent dose of the medicine the doctor left for him, but even Doc had given up pointing that out anymore. Johnny declared the laudanum tasted foul and dulled his head as much as the pain. He would take a small swig when nature called so he could get up to use the commode rather than the urinal bottle, but otherwise he preferred to suffer and keep his wits about him.
"It's up to him, Scott. I've no concerns now. You've all done a marvellous job. Stop worrying." Dr Owens descended the stairs to the entrance hall the following morning and accepted his hat from Emily. Since Johnny had been brought home he'd called every second day, but that would no longer be necessary. "I'll come again at the end of the week. By then I should be able to take the stitches out."
"Does he still need to be watched during the night?" Beth appeared in the archway from the great room.
"Beth, I didn't see you there." Murdoch reached out his hand and led her forward. "Allow me to introduce Dr George Owens from Green River. He's the surgeon who saved Johnny's life."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Dr Owens."
"The honour is mine, Mrs Eliot." Dr Owens bowed. "My wife has been telling me of your visit. I understand you are to give a speech on Friday in support of women's suffrage, a subject very dear to her heart."
"And to yours too, I trust?"
"I love a peaceful home too much for it to be otherwise, Ma'am."
Beth's eyes danced. "You and my husband would get along very well, I think, Dr Owens. He is a surgeon too and his answer would be very much the same."
"Your husband is Dr Robert Eliot, the Head of Surgery at Massachusetts General Hospital, I believe? I was reading an article in The New England Journal of Medicine written by him only the other day. Please pass on my regards." The doctor gave another small bow and picked up his bag from the hallstand. "To answer your question earlier: as long as someone looks in on Johnny now and again and makes sure he follows my instructions—in particular that he remains lying down—there is no longer any need for a constant vigil, day or night."
"We should perhaps tie him to the bed then, Murdoch, when we want to go out, but you'll be able to get a proper night's sleep tonight." Beth smiled and slipped her arm through his as everybody laughed.
Overnight supervision was duly abandoned, Emily was persuaded her presence by Johnny's bedside was not essential every minute of the day, and the ranch returned to a degree of normality. It seemed to Scott that without obviously imposing her will on anyone, Beth called the tune.
She began to treat Scott more openly like a nephew—or even one of her own sons. "At the start I looked out for you for your parents' sake. Every time I saw you, Catherine stared back at me. I see her in you now: the way you are with people and how you stand up for what is right. I grew very fond of you as a small child, but when Murdoch started to write in his letters that he would soon be able to bring you back here, your grandfather prepared for a siege. Contact between us was one of the casualties, and it didn't ease up again until you were nearly ten years old. Not long after, you were off to school and then the army and Harvard. It was too late and always too risky to do anything but watch over you from a distance. You'll never know how often I wanted to scoop you up, and make you one of my own."
Scott was touched by Beth's words. In a way he'd sensed the link between them. Beth had been the mother-figure in his life for as long as he could remember, even if, as she said, they'd both been obliged to keep their distance. What intrigued Scott more was how she now extended the role of mother hen to include Johnny and Emily—and what absolutely astounded him was that they allowed it.
Beth and Emily talked a lot during the Eliots' stay, and Scott witnessed the benefits to Emily in the spark in her eyes and the colour in her cheeks. They were discussing the fact that Beth's suffragist friend, Lucy Stone, had graduated from the same college in Ohio as Emily when they discovered an even closer connection.
"Your maiden name was Rust? My goodness, your father wasn't by chance Arthur Rust?" Beth reached out and took Emily's hand. "My father is James McIntyre of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society."
"The lawyer who defended Micah Daniells and prevented his return to slavery—really? My father wrote regularly to James McIntyre all through my childhood."
"What a small world we live in." Scott sat between two conversations, catching snippets from each. He had worked a long day, and his mind was by now more focused on the way the firelight reflected off Katie's hair, than on Oberlin College or the household routines of a ranch. "Did you hear that, Katie? Your grandfather and Emily's father used to correspond."
"I think they met at a convention in Philadelphia," Beth added. "What a pity your father didn't live to see his life's work come to fruition. I know it was one of the proudest days of my father's life when the Thirteenth Amendment was ratified. He made a special trip to Washington to witness the vote."
Before the topic of Arthur Rust and James McIntyre's friendship was exhausted, Scott and Katie went upstairs to spend time with Johnny. Jelly had been playing checkers with him, but he came downstairs early saying he was tired.
"You've got to let him win occasionally, brother."
"I do usually." Johnny stared up at the ceiling. Scott did understand. When the rest of your body didn't work, it was hard to rein in the one part that did. Johnny had a strategist's brain and it was crying out for exercise. "Open that window, will you. It's stuffy in here."
Scott got up from the hard-backed chair he was sitting on and opened the sash behind him. A strong breeze lifted the curtains. The rain had stopped now, but the air felt cool and damp. Johnny inhaled deeply and grimaced as he changed position under his blankets.
"Do you want me to take that extra pillow away now?" Katie rose from the armchair beside the bed. She helped Johnny to some water and then rearranged the pillows so he was lying flat. Scott smiled at Katie's thoughtfulness, and just for a second his wished he could change places with his brother.
"Thanks." Johnny closed his eyes, but kept talking. He had just finished reading Oliver Twist and was surprised by how much he'd enjoyed it. Who would have thought? Confinement had a silver lining if Johnny was tackling books worth reading. Scott and Katie talked about the story with him and suggested other books they thought he might like until eventually they received no response. They continued between themselves, discussing Dickens in whispers. Then Johnny snored softly and they fell silent.
After several minutes, Katie glanced in Scott's direction. He smiled back, and she blushed.
His heart missed a beat. "Do you…?"
"What's that?" Startled she looked towards the window. A long lonesome howl cut through the darkness.
"It's only a coyote. It's a long way off. Nothing to worry about." Scott rose and went to close the window.
But Katie looked frightened. "They don't come near the house, do they?"
"No. Sometimes they try to steal chickens or calves, but I've never known them come close to the hacienda. The night watch soon scares them off."
"By shooting at them?"
Damn. He hadn't meant to remind her of guns again. He'd been so careful since the first day. He even took his gun belt off and on in the barn.
Before he could think of a reply, the door opened, and Emily came in to check on Johnny.
"Asleep already? This is getting to be a habit." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and he smiled in his sleep. "Your mother is determined to send me to bed early."
"Mama is a great believer in sleep as a cure-all." Katie got up from the armchair. "It's time I said good night too." She nodded awkwardly to Scott and followed Emily into the hallway.
He watched the door close behind them. Damn, damn, damn.
But by morning Scott was relieved to find no lingering signs of distress. Casual chatter resumed over breakfast and before he left for the bridge, Emily was fielding questions about her work.
"Beth and Katie were really interested," Emily said when he came in at midday. Getting an enamel bowl from the kitchen cabinet, she put it on the tray with the bandages and iodine she needed to re-dress Johnny's wound. "I hope to take Katie to see the herd of wild horses I'm studying before they return to San Francisco."
Scott smiled, and refrained from saying, 'I told you so'. "Maybe you can help Katie become less wary of the countryside. She seemed quite frightened last night when she heard a coyote howl." Scott stepped back to let Maria get to the dishes she needed. He was in the way, but he'd been thinking about this most of the morning. Emily might be able to help Katie feel more at ease, and he might not get another chance to talk to her privately about it. He glanced over at Maria, but she was busy by the sink again. "It's strange she's so unsettled by the idea of wild animals. Her sister is fanatical about every kind of animal imaginable. You and Victoria would get on very well in fact. She once brought a snake into their house. Katie must be used to all sorts of creatures appearing unexpectedly. Though I suppose she did know the hognose was harmless."
"Yes, I expect that could make a difference, but I think her anxiety is a combination of things. She's used to paved streets and buildings with people everywhere. I found it strange coming from Ohio and that must be a lot more like here than Boston." Emily picked up the tray and headed towards the back stairs. "Don't worry, Scott. I'm sure she'll get used to the ranch in time, and if she doesn't, well, she's only here for a visit after all."
Scott felt the heat rise up the back of his neck. Emily's look of innocence was noticeably teasing. Her staying at the hacienda definitely had pluses and minuses. They were more comfortable with each other, and he was becoming better at reading her moods. Unfortunately, it seemed she was also getting better at reading his.
As for Katie, she appeared perfectly at ease when he saw her later in the day. He came in shortly before supper and followed the sound of laughter to the annexe. The ladies were exploring the rooms Johnny and Emily would live in after their marriage.
"We decided to do up the O'Brien's old living quarters, but also take in two adjoining rooms." Emily stood in the centre of the main room, combining living, dining and kitchen. "We added the hallway to link them to the rest. The smallest room will be my study so Johnny doesn't have to trip over all my papers and books. The next smallest will be a proper bathroom. Johnny ordered the bath when he was in San Francisco, but it hasn't arrived yet."
"I presume this bedroom will be yours? The view to the hills is breath-taking." Katie emerged from the door on the left. She was wearing a cream muslin dress with green leaf-pattern and an emerald sash that hugged her waist. Oh to trade places with that sash. Scott slumped back against the exterior wall next to the doorway, and breathed deeply. He tried to bring his mind back to more gentleman-like thoughts, but he was thwarted by every sideways glance.
"And the spare bedroom is just in case." Scott's eyes were all for Katie, but he heard the teasing in Beth's words.
And the blush in Emily's reply. "It can be used for storage in the meantime."
"I'm impressed. Any woman who can persuade those men to spend money on plumbing instead of cattle has my seal of approval." Beth tested the faucet. There was a gurgle in the pipes, a splutter and then a satisfying stream of cool, clear water.
"It's working! I hadn't even checked. The hacienda was connected up before Johnny was injured, but the plumber ran out of copper pipe." Emily cupped her hand under the faucet and drank deeply.
"I do like the fabric you've chosen for the curtains; I love the way they float up in the breeze. And your cushions are gorgeous." Katie sat down on the sofa and examined the needlepoint more closely. "These scenes must have taken you hours. The horses look almost alive."
"They do, don't they?" Emily plumped down beside her. "Maria made the cushion covers for us after Johnny showed her some of my sketches. All her needlework is beautiful."
"Really? I must ask her to show me more. And you must show me your drawings. Why don't you frame one or two for the walls?" Jumping up, Katie started to circle the room. "You could do with something between the window and the dresser—and there; though perhaps a mirror would be better by the door so you could check your appearance before heading out. Wouldn't you agree Mr Lancer?"
His presence discovered, Scott came in from the porch and leaned against the doorframe. He tipped his hat in agreement, his eyes returning her smile.
"Thank you both for your suggestions and praise. It's refreshing." Emily got up from the sofa and winked at Scott. "As my future brother-in-law will confirm, arguing the finer points of construction and home decorating with a man who never even had a bed to call his own until recently has been a little challenging."
Beth opened the oven door and peered inside; her interest curious given she'd probably never cooked in her life. "Johnny may not like to talk about fabric and paint colours, but I'm sure he'll appreciate a few home comforts as much as the next man."
What Johnny appreciated most, as everyone could clearly see, was Emily. The rest would follow naturally enough. Scott envied his brother. The relationship he had with Emily was special.
Would Scott ever be so lucky? He sometimes wondered, though not with the same despair or resignation he'd felt a few months ago. Lately, possibilities kept prodding him, and Katie's smile or her laugh or even the smell of her hair made inroads into his mind, often at very inappropriate times. 'It's early yet,' he kept telling himself. 'Today's fire is tomorrow's ashes'. But try as he would to rationalise his feelings, he still caught his breath every time she entered a room. Katie Eliot was amazing, and... No, he wouldn't think about the 'and'. You've been bitten once before, Scott Lancer, and look how that turned out. Be more circumspect.
He was afraid, though, that Emily wasn't the only one to have an inkling of his feelings. Scott was almost sure Beth had a notion. She didn't say anything outright, but that evening when they went for a stroll, Scott got the distinct impression she wouldn't object if his relationship with her daughter developed beyond friendship. Murdoch, Teresa and Katie were walking well ahead, but Beth preferred a more leisurely pace. "I'm pleased you and Katie are on better terms now. I'm afraid she's far too much like me at that age, too ready to go into battle before clearly identifying the enemy."
"She was right though, about my behaviour back then."
"Maybe so, but she was too impatient and thoughtless. If she had used her brains a little more than her tongue, she would have realised you were just going through the same sort of restlessness that a few of her cousins went through, and they worked their way out of it too. Not many men—or women for that matter—know exactly what they want to do with their lives from the age of four like her brother."
"How is Bob?"
"We received a letter from him two weeks ago. He says to tell you he's bringing you a bottle of Jamaican rum when he comes for his cousin's wedding, and he hopes to enjoy another night with you like the one you spent together on Little Brewster Island in '68." Beth laughed as Scott stiffened. "Don't worry; I'm not going to ask what that means. Sometimes a mother is better off not knowing what her sons get up to."
Scott was relieved about that, especially when—if—anything did develop between him and Katie. He suspected if that were to happen, Bob wouldn't be so eager to re-enact their Independence Day escapade either.
Notes:
1. This story is the second in the Eliot Series. The first was Past Imperfect, 2014. The Eliot Series has its roots in From Highlands to Homecoming, 2014, a back story of Murdoch Lancer's life. Most of the significant non-canon characters in the Eliot Series were created originally for From Highlands to Homecoming. The story of Johnny and the bloomers can be read in Chapter 30: Ups and Downs.
2. This story links to Names, 2014, of the Widow Morris Series by Doc. Some of the dialogue and ideas related to Johnny and Emily in this story were provided by Terri Derr (aka Doc).
3. A carryall is a light four-wheeled carriage used in the U.S.A. in the nineteenth century. It seats four or more passengers and is drawn by a single horse.
4. The American Women's Suffrage Association (AWSA) was formed in 1869 in response to a split in the American Equal Rights Association over the Fifteenth Amendment to the Unites States Constitution. Its founders who supported the Fifteenth Amendment included Lucy Stone, Henry Blackwell and Julia Ward Howe. The AWSA founders were staunch abolitionists devoted to achieving the vote for Negro men. They believed the Fifteenth Amendment would not pass Congress if it included the vote for women. On the other side of the split were 'irreconcilables' Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, who founded the National American Women's Suffrage Association (NAWSA) to secure women's enfranchisement through federal constitutional amendment. The AWSA believed the vote for women was more achievable through state-by-state campaigns.
5. Yellowstone National Park opened on 1 March, 1872 and was the first national park in the world.
6. The New England Journal of Medicine has been published by the Massachusetts Medical Society since 1812. It is amongst the most prestigious peer-reviewed medical journals and the oldest continuously published one.
7. The Thirteenth Amendment was ratified on 6 December, 1865. It abolished slavery and involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for a crime. It was the first of the three Reconstruction Acts.