Linda Broday - Give Me A Texan

“Please let me help. I’ll-”

“I’ve got it. Go wash that off before it burns your hands.”

Apology etched her face. “I wasna thinking. It was hotter than…Ye can take it out of my first wages or ’tis another I’ll buy ye at-”

“It can’t be replaced.”

Her eyes rounded. “It was Katie Rose’s?”

“Our wedding bowl.”

When the bowl was empty, he placed it gently in the trash. “Tell Violet to wash her hands before she comes to the table. That will give me time to make sure we didn’t get any on the floor so none of us will slip on it.”

“I’ll send her in, but please doona set a plate for me. I-I canna eat.”

Mina yawned. It had to be three in the morning, but at last she was done. It had been difficult working in the dark, but she knew if she had turned on the light she might awaken Violet. She only hoped the glue on the tureen would hold and that the mixture of flowers, flax, and candle wax was enough to hold the porcelain together. She’d used flowers and candle wax for glue before, but the idea to add some of the blue flax to hide the crack had come to her about an hour ago. She’d taken the bowl apart again, gathered some of the flowers from Briar’s backyard, and altered the mixture. Just as she planned, the color of the flax blended perfectly with the bowl’s design and the crack was no longer visible. Now if the glue held, she would be able to present the bowl to Briar almost in its original shape. Almost.

She decided to check on Violet before turning in. Mina tiptoed to the child’s room, hoping not to wake her. The rascal had a bad habit of not really being asleep. Briar had returned to the station hours ago after doing the dishes. She’d started to help him, but then thought better of it. She’d broken one of Katie’s precious belongings. If she harmed another, he would never forgive her.

Mina smiled as she saw all the treasures Violet had found now laying about her room, all with a piece of paper and the person’s name to whom she planned to give the treasure scrawled across its surface. She leaned down to press a kiss against Violet’s brow only to discover a wisp of hair had fallen into the lass’s eyes. She smoothed it back, then gently kissed the tiny forehead.

“I ’member somebody doing that,” Violet whispered. The bruised eye opened slightly as she yawned. “I think it was my mommy.”

Mina pulled the covers up and tucked the child in, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Do ye remember much about her?”

“Only that she smelled nice and she sang pretty.”

“Did she give you this?” Mina lifted the silver baby rattle that lay on the stand next to the bed.

“Nope. That’s Daddy’s. His godfather gave it to him, and he gave it to me.”

“His godfather?”

“Mr. Corbett, the newspaper man. He’s the one who helped Daddy meet Mommy, I think. ’Least that’s what Daddy said.”

“What else has yer da told ye about her?”

“Nothing. He said it would just hurt me to know. But you know what, angel?”

“What, sweeting?”

“I think he hurts when he talks about Mommy, so I don’t ask him.”

“Maybe someday soon he willna hurt anymore, then he’ll tell ye all about her.”

“You really think so?”

“Ye can be sure of it, love.”

“Jimmy told me my mommy’s buried in the graveyard, not in heaven like Daddy said. Did you see her when you went there?”

“No.” Mina was glad she could answer that question honestly, but she would not lie to the child. “People who get sick and go to heaven usually go to the graveyard first.”

“I don’t believe you. You and Jimmy are talking jive. I want to see her.”

“Yer da will have to take ye there, Violet. I promised him that I would leave that to him. Now close those sleepy eyes and go to sleep or ye’ll be too tired to fly yer kite tomorrow. Ye doona want another hot, dry day, do ye? We could sure use the rain.”

The child reluctantly went back to sleep. Mina waited until she was sure her steps would not reawaken the lass, then tiptoed out into the hall. A shadow shifted just as she sensed a presence in the hallway. “How long have ye been standing there?” she asked, her heart pounding in her throat.

“Long enough to tell you to stop discussing Katie Rose with my daughter.”

Mina moved past him and took a seat in the parlor, needing to sit to stop her trembling. She had forgotten about his occasional check-ins to make sure Violet was all right. His anger was almost palpable; she didn’t need to see it on his face.

“I didna discuss her,” she countered, electing not to turn on a light. “I merely asked Violet what she remembered and, frankly, ’tis a sad lot she recalls.”

“It’s none of your business, Miss McCoy. I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”

“And when is that? When ye’ve withdrawn so far into yer-self that ye canna teach her how it is to love and be loved? She’s a little girl expecting her mother to return. She needs to know Katie’s never coming back. She needs to know that doesna mean she was never loved while Katie lived. Violet has a right to know her mother fully so she can treasure that memory. ’Tis the greatest legacy ye can give her.”

“How much of this is your own need, Mina?” His voice softened slightly as he took a seat opposite her. “Don’t you know why your mother abandoned you? Are these all the things you need to know from her?”

Mina’s back stiffened as if he’d lashed her with a quirt. “Me da told me nothing other than she left him…us…when I was two months old, and that every day of my life since then I reminded him of her. That’s the sum total of what I know.”

“And how long did he stay around?”

“Until I was twelve. And he was not the one who left. He kicked me out.”

“On the streets?”

“A far better place than the so-called home he provided.”

“Care to tell me why you were kicked out?”

“As ye said. Some things are just no other’s business.”

“Then we agree. You don’t talk to Violet any more about her mother and I won’t ask you about your father.”

“I’ll not lie to the child. If she asks me and I know, I’ll tell her.”

He stood. “Then I may have to ask you to leave.”

“And that choice, Briar Duncan, may one day break yer daughter’s heart as well as yer own.”

Nothing had gone right for Briar all day. The 8:10 was late. One of the cows broke out of its holding pen, and Violet had ignored his warning of the past three days about flying her kite too close to the Eclipse. She’d tangled it in the windmill’s blades and destroyed the toy beyond repair. Violet and the windmill had been cranky ever since.

Mina’s mood was no better. The woman had been curt to him ever since he scolded Violet and said she should take such nonsense elsewhere. Mina retaliated with her own reprimand, telling him to quit yelling like a banshee and take his anger out on the person at whom it was truly directed.

Damned if she wasn’t right and damned if she hadn’t been ever so courteous to every male who’d walked into the telegrapher’s office since she’d hired on. He was glad it was time for her to be off duty so he could concentrate on what he should be doing instead of what everyone else was trying to do with her. Briar was damned mad and he didn’t care who knew it.

“You two ready to head home?” he asked, irritated that three men waited in front of Mina’s desk to send a telegram. Violet sat behind her on the cot, using some of the glue Mina had given her to repair the treasures she’d found along the roadside.

When had news gotten around about his new telegrapher? He never seen this much participation from male members of this community in sending wires. The men usually sent their wives or sisters to do this kind of triviality, spending their time on heavier tasks. But, if he’d watched one man go into the telegrapher’s office, he’d seen twenty. You’d think they never saw a beautiful woman before.

And Mina was beautiful, the more he looked at her. The more he knew about her. The high color of anger on her cheeks had only made her eyes look more golden. The stiff arch of her back every time he walked in to check on Violet had only defined Mina’s voluptuous figure.

Voluptuous. The word echoed in his brain and sent his blood coursing with heated memories. Hell, he’d been reading too many fashion books lately. No man should have to gauge the difference in buying full-figured, voluptuous, and petite clothing. That was women’s work!

Mina laughed so hard she snorted.

What the hell did Harris say to her that made her laugh so hard? Briar listened closer to the conversation she was having with her current customer, irritated that his mind had drifted from the task at hand. Damned if he hadn’t been unfocused all day.

He reminded himself that he usually found Brett Harris a likeable soul. Why couldn’t he have inherited more of his dad’s height and a little less of his mother’s good looks? “I said, are you ready for us to change out hands, Miss McCoy?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen, it seems I must get off the clock.” Her smile could have melted the snow atop the Rockies four hundred miles away. “Me boss is of a mind to save the railroad a few pittance. He or Sam will be helping ye now.”

She stood and moved with such fluid grace that all four men’s heads turned in unison to watch her. “Are ye ready for a bite to eat, lassie?” she asked, helping Violet gather her things and stow them into the pouch.

A doughboy stepped out of line behind Harris and offered to carry the pouch for Violet. “We can’t have a little thing like you carry such a big old bag now, can we, miss?” He tipped his hat to Mina. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you and the little lady home or, better yet, could I interest the two of you in joining me for supper?”

Mina shook her head. “Perhaps another time, sir. ’Tis other plans I’ve made for the evening already.”