“I am sure Mr. Doogan is a very nice man.” Clover could see from the look on Mabel’s weathered face that her polite response did not satisfy. “All I want is for my mother to be happy. As my father made her happy.”
“Ah, I see.” Mabel spat, hitting the spitoon with herusual accuracy. “Child, ain’t nothing wrong with your ma wanting to cure her loneliness.”
“Loneliness? How can she be lonely living in a household of nine people?”
“I reckon you know demmed well what kind of loneliness I be talking of. If you don’t, then Ballard MacGregor ain’t the man I think he is.” She cackled when Clover blushed deep red. “Your ma loved your pa. I hear it clear when she talks of him. But your pa done took himself away from her. I suspect she is still grieving, but she has the sense to know that life goes on. So does Colin. Now, those two flirting and laughing like they are might raise a few eyebrows back where you come from, but out here we ain’t bothered by such petty and useless niceties. Agnes and Colin know they are in the autumn of their lives, and neither of them wants to spend those years with just memories.”
“Of course. Then again, they could be acting just like any two friends who have not seen each other in years.”
Mabel snorted. “That sure as hell was no ‘let us be friends’ gleam I saw in old Colin’s eyes.”
Clover caught sight of Molly and Jonathan Clemmons sitting close on a bench, their heads together as they talked. She smiled at Mabel. “And what kind of gleam do you see in your son’s eyes?”
“I demmed well hope it’s a marrying sort of gleam. The fool ain’t getting any younger, and I have a hankering to see a grandchild or two before I die.”
Clover restrained a laugh. “Well, Mollyisdetermined to find a husband.”
“Good. I reckon Jon needs a determined woman to get his backside afore a preacher.” Mabel lookedClover over carefully. “Just when are you and that long-legged Scotsman gonna start a family?”
“You are a rude woman, Mabel Clemmons,” Clover said genially.
“Demmed right, and proud of it. It is one of the few good things about getting old. You can speak your mind and be crotchety and nobody troubles you about it.” She winked at Clover. “I got a soft spot for that Scot of yours, but don’t you go saying nothing to him about it.”
“Of course not. We would not want him to get too puffed up.”
“Exactly. Now, that’s why I’m asking you about starting his family. I know he wants one.”
“Yes. He was very clear on that matter. So do I. If God is willing, there will be a babe started before too long.”
Mabel nodded. “Reckon that boy is doing his best.”
“Definitely his best,” Clover drawled, and they shared grins that turned into hearty laughter.
Mabel had an odd effect on her, Clover mused, then frowned when the old woman scowled at the dancers. Clover looked to see what had caused Mabel’s dark expression, then grunted when she jabbed her in the side with a bony elbow.
“What is wrong? I see nothing but people dancing.”
“Then you ain’t looking hard enough. That hussy, Elizabeth Brown, has dragged your man onto the dance floor.”
Clover could see Ballard’s head, but it was not until the crowd parted a little that she caught sight of Elizabeth. The woman was dressed in a red gown, tight and low-cut, and she was pressing herself scandalously close to Ballard. Clover fought a swell of fury at seeingElizabeth reap the benefits of the dancing lesson she had just given Ballard. After taking a deep breath to steady herself, Clover tried to see how Ballard felt about Elizabeth’s actions, but there was little expression on his face.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go after your man, child,” said Mabel.
“He is only dancing,” she murmured, silently cursing the fact that she even cared who was in his arms.
“That slut is clinging to him like a limpet. Go and tear her off him.”
“Perhaps he likes dancing with her.”
“Balderdash! I know that boy. He don’t get that cursed stone face on him when he’s having fun.” She frowned at Clover. “Don’t you care that she’s trying to steal your man right afore your eyes?”
“Mrs. Clemmons, it is not a matter of caring. It is a matter of dignity. I do not wish to act the jealous, interfering wife.”
“Maybe where you come from you sit back and let such nonsense go on, but ‘round here we do something about it. Ain’t you seen how the other women are looking at you to stop the hussy?”
Clover did notice, but that did not change her mind. All her life she had been trained to be dignified, not to cause scenes. Such matters, if mentioned at all, were to be dealt with in the strictest privacy. She ached to go and yank Elizabeth away from her husband and throw the woman to the floor, but everything she had been taught told her not to succumb to that raw emotion.
“Lookee here, girl,” Mabel continued, grasping Clover’s arm and giving her a little shake. “Elizabeth wants your man and you know it. Hellfire, the wholecursed county knows it. That hussy got into his breeches once and liked what she found. Ballard had the wits to button himself up tight after that, but it ain’t stopped her. ‘Tis clear his marriage ain’t gonna deter her neither, especially not if his wife just sits by twiddling her thumbs. Do you think that Scot would sit idly by if some man was lifting your petticoats?”
