Banking on Temperance (3 page)

“Regardless, this is a hundred times better than what they currently have. If you’re certain it will be all right with your parents, I’ll tell the Jones family tomorrow about the place. Thank you, Joseph.” Basil stepped out of the soddy.

Ginger clapped her hands together. “How delightful that we’ll have new neighbors to get to know over the winter. Tell me about the family. What are the ages of the children?”

“There are three boys and three girls, ranging in age from eighteen down to four. They are all named for virtues — Justice, Valor, and Noble are the boys. The girls are Temperance, Prudence, and Faith.”

Ginger grinned. “Ah, so it’s Temperance, is it? She’s the real reason you want to help the family.”

Basil shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. His sister understood him too well. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I know you, and I know there must be a woman involved for you to care. And there was something in your tone when you recited her name. Is she the eldest one? She’s eighteen?”

Basil rolled his eyes at his sister’s comment. “Yes, she’s the eldest. And very attractive. But she’s not going to appreciate any help I can give them, since she’s a proud and stubborn woman. No, it’s not because of Temperance that I want to help. If anything, it’s in spite of her. They simply remind me of our family. Strong and caring for each other. Their circumstances are just a bit different from ours. More challenging. If the tables were turned, I would hope someone would do the same for us.”

“Good Lord, I do believe my brother is starting to grow up.”

Basil laughed and held up his hands. “Possibly so.”

“Maybe you could offer the mother a job at the bank. Cleaning it or something,” Joseph said.

“No, I think she needs to stay close to her husband. I’m thinking of offering it to Temperance.”

“So it
is
Temperance! I guessed it!” Ginger declared.

“Only where her family is concerned, dear sister. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ginger whispered, loud enough for Basil to hear. She did it just to bother him. And she was right.

Temperance bent over the washbasin as she put a cloth to the face of her youngest brother, Noble. She sighed as she scrubbed the cheeks of the squirming child, who howled in protest. “How is it one little boy can get so filthy?”

Noble stared up at her, his brown eyes huge. “Did you see all the cats who live here? There must be fourteen-eleven of them. I had to catch and pet each and every one!”

“So, you’re telling me that you not only got dirty, but you also probably have fleas? Dear Lord, what am I to do with you?”

“I don’t have fleas!” Noble’s little hand formed into a paw and he hissed at Temperance as she reached for his ears.

Smiling at his boyish behavior, Temperance danced the wet rag in front of his face. “Be a good kitty now, Fluffy.”

“Fluffy’s a girl’s name! I’m Bob. Bob the Bobcat. Meow. Meow.” Noble’s eyes gleamed as he batted at the cloth.

“Looks as if you’ve got your hands full there, Miss Jones.”

Temperance’s spine straightened as her head snapped around to gaze up into Basil Fitzpatrick’s deep blue eyes. Despite the fact he had been helpful to her family yesterday and didn’t treat them with the same disdain his employee did, she was aware of his type.

She’d seen him on the street in the afternoon, and he nodded and smiled at every woman he came into contact with. Some of them even clung onto his arm or dropped a hankie in his path in the hopes of getting his attention. And none had been disappointed. Even Pennsylvania farm girls were familiar with smooth-talking men such as Mr. Fitzpatrick, and she had to shield herself from him. Noble took advantage of the interruption to scoot away from Temperance and her washcloth.

She scowled at Basil. “Aren’t you afraid of getting your shoes dirty back here in this alley, sir?”

“Please, call me Basil, not ‘sir.’ That’s what I call my father.” Basil glanced at the ground and his shoes. “And I’ll be certain to scrape my shoes before I enter the bank. Thank you for reminding me. I wanted to check on your family and see how you fared. I know the alley’s not the best place to spend the night.”

“We managed quite well, Mr. Fitzpatrick. And I’ll not be calling you by your given name.” She ignored him and began to fold the washcloth and towel to put them away.

Basil sighed and put his hand to his heart, taking a fake stumble backwards at her words. “Your words have pierced my heart, Lady Temperance.”

Temperance fought the urge to smile at his foolishness. He and Noble were two of a kind. She was certain his undeniable charm worked on most women.

“Ma spent the night in the doctor’s office with my da, but we can’t keep him there any longer. This alley isn’t the best place for him to continue his recovery, though. It stinks of rotten food and the contents of too many chamber pots. I don’t know what Ma has planned for us now, but we’ll find something.”

“I understand your concerns and hope I have found a solution. Not just for your father, but for all of you. After all, I wouldn’t want your lovely skin to be exposed to the sun for too long.” Basil’s gaze lingered on her face.

Temperance bristled and a blush of color rose to her cheeks. “You’ve done quite enough already, sir. We appreciate your help yesterday, especially taking care of Da, but we don’t expect you to do more. We are used to making our own way.”

“I’m sure you are. And I never meant to imply otherwise. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head into the doctor’s office before I open the bank and talk to your mother for a moment.” He turned and glanced down at Noble, who was standing nearby and watching Basil with great curiosity. The other children huddled in a group near the wagon, but Noble’s curiosity got the better of him. Basil gave him a wink. “I’ll let you get back to cleaning up the bobcat.” He tousled the boy’s hair before he left the alley.

Temperance’s gaze followed him as his strong, long strides ate up the ground between the buildings. Noble turned to his sister. “He’s a nice man, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Noble, he’s quite nice. Now, come back here and let me finish up with you.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

Temperance smiled. “Heavens, no. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. I’ll still be here to clean out your ears for years to come.”

Despite the good qualities he’d exhibited yesterday, Temperance was aware that Basil Fitzpatrick and his fine bank were in a much different social class from her. The ladies he spent time with would all have soft hands and pretty dresses with corsets underneath to make their waists look tiny. Not faded homespuns that had patches over patches and did nothing to show off her figure. She tried to imagine him taking her hand as he led her to a carriage, and how he would recoil from her rough, callused fingers. No, she was not the type of woman he usually dallied with. Thank goodness he would pay her no mind.

With a small sigh, she turned back to her work, cleaning and feeding her younger siblings. She most definitely had little time to spare and it was better spent scratching out a living, not daydreaming about any man. Especially a ladies’ man, which she was sure Mr. Fitzpatrick could call himself. But yet, she couldn’t resist one final glance at his retreating form.

• • •

Basil found Martha Jones at her husband’s bedside. Based on the bowl of water and damp towel at the bedside table, he guessed she had just finished giving him a sponge bath. She finished putting her husband’s arm in the sleeve of his shirt. Basil hurried to her side and helped to support the man’s weight as the Reverend got out of bed and onto his feet. Basil placed his arm around Samuel’s shoulders, while Martha kept her arm around her husband’s waist.

As Basil helped Samuel Jones from the doctor’s office into the alley and then back into the bed of the wagon, he noticed a bit more color in his cheeks and he wasn’t coughing quite so much. But he was still far from well. And, Basil was certain, if he spent more than one night in the open wagon in the stinking, dirty alley, he’d be right back where he started, health-wise. Basil shook his head. Even with the small comfort that the soddy could offer, he had doubts if Samuel Jones would live to see next spring. But having some type of roof over his head was still marginally better than their current plight.

“Mrs. Jones, may I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Martha’s eyes blinked once before she gazed up at him. “Certainly, Mr. Fitzpatrick.” Basil directed her away from the wagon, out of earshot of her husband and the children.

“You know your husband’s health will disintegrate further if the wagon is your only shelter.”

Martha sighed. “Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick, I know. Yet I can’t think of a way out of our situation. I can find work, but it will take time to put together enough money to rent a place for the winter. So, until then, we’ll have no choice but to find a place to camp, and use the wagon as our home. My poor Samuel.” She wrung her hands together and glanced back at the wagon. Basil’s heart lurched at the worry and devotion etched on the woman’s face.

“I may have a solution, at least temporarily.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “My brother-in-law, Joseph, has an old soddy house on his family’s property and he’s willing to let you use it at no cost. It’s very crude and small, and needs some repair, but it will at least provide some shelter for your husband. Would you care to see it?”

Martha’s eyes filled with tears. “It would be a god-send, however crude. Of course I want to see it.”

“All right then. After the bank closes today, I’ll take you there. Joseph’s family has a horse farm and it so happens several of his stock are in the livery right now. We can borrow one of them and ride out together. There’s no sense in moving the wagon until you make certain you can live there.”

Basil and Martha strode back to the wagon where the children were standing. Martha stood in front of them as she addressed Basil. “Blessings upon you, sir. Our family is sure fortunate we met you the minute we pulled into town. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“For the sake of propriety, it may be best if Temperance joins us, too. I’ll bring an extra horse.”

The stricken look on Temperance’s face brought a grin to Basil’s. This was going to be fun.

Shortly after the bank closed for the day, Basil saddled up his horse and two others, leading them to the alley. Martha was waiting for him, and giving last minute instructions to Justice and Prudence on what to do in her absence.

“Hello, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Right on time. That’s the mark of a good man, when he does what he says he will.”

Basil tipped his hat to her and smiled. “Well, of course, Mrs. Jones.” He flashed an easy grin in her direction. “My sister, Ginger, will be happy to see both of you ladies this afternoon. She’s longing to talk to another woman her own age.”

Martha’s gaze took in the wagon and all her children bustling around. “Well, I suppose we could stay a few extra minutes and get to know your sister. Prudence can take care of her da while we’re gone.”

Temperance had been hanging in the background as Basil rode up, but when she spied the horses that were trailing behind, she came forward and began to examine them. Her hands glided over their coats. She glanced at her mother. “I’ll take the black, Ma. The gray looks to be docile enough for you.”

Shortly afterwards the three horses and riders left the city behind for the five-mile ride out to the farm.

They rode quietly for a time as the noise of the city faded away. Basil breathed in the scent of freshly cut hay as they rode. He decided to open the discussion. “Tell me about your life back in Pennsylvania, and why you decided to move west, Mrs. Jones.”

She glanced over at him. “My Samuel is a preacher and would never take up arms against another man. With the growing tensions between the north and the south on the slavery issue, he wanted to move himself and his boys out of the controversy, so he got this notion about Oregon being the Promised Land. ‘War’s a’coming,’ he said before we left Pennsylvania. He is aware that, when war does happen, his boys would be pressured into joining the military, and it presents a moral dilemma for us. But he took sick almost the moment we began this journey. We should have turned back, but he would have none of it, fearing as he did for Justice and Valor. So here we are.”

Temperance listened to her mother’s encapsulation of events as she fell in beside Basil. “What type of horse is this? I love her. Such a nice gait.”

“These are wild mustangs that Joseph finds on the open range. His family rounds them up and takes them to the ranch, where they break them in. They do a good business.”

Temperance ran her hand over the horse’s dark mane. “Would you mind if I stretch her legs a bit? I want to feel the wind in my hair.” She let her bonnet slide back off her head and removed the pins from her hair as she talked.

Basil glanced over at her in concern. “However smooth her stride may be, this horse is still a wild animal and only recently broken.”

“That’s all right. I’m an excellent horsewoman.” Temperance nudged the horse with her heels, and took off.

Martha sighed at the retreating form of her daughter. Her image became smaller as she raced down the road, her hair streaming out behind her. “We surely made a mistake when we named that girl. We should not have called her Temperance. Impatience would have been more appropriate.”

Basil fought the sudden urge to race after the spirited, impetuous woman. No good would come of chasing after Temperance, he thought. She was a respectable girl, not someone to make sport of. But his knees quivered as he controlled the impulse to urge his horse to a gallop and go after her.

• • •

Temperance was excited by the blur of the landscape rushing by under the strong horse’s hooves, and the feel of the wind as it whipped her hair around her face. This entire trip, from Pennsylvania to Missouri, had been one arduous, slow grind, and she had longed to break free and run across the plains. Instead, she plodded, along with the rest of her family, one step at a time. Some days they only got as far as a mile down the road. Temperance nearly screamed in frustration. But they finally arrived here in St. Louis and she was galloping down a road, into her future. She took pity on the horse after a mile or so, and gradually slowed her back to a trot.