San Joaquin Valley, California
For me to truly understand the relationship shared by my father and the woman who has been a mother figure in my life I would need to go to the days before I was born. To the best of my knowledge, Mr. Verne calculated the requirements needed to be shot to the moon but not back in time. So, I am left with two people who are more tight-lipped about their feelings for each other than Jelly revealing his secret fishing hole.
In the beginning, I believe Winnie contributed to the resentment that ruled in the Garrett household. This young man “fell off the boat” and enticed her little lass away from a safe and loving home. Hidden on the back stairs from the kitchen, I would overhear her story, customarily when Jameson left the pantry to visit Winifred and a few of the help. I was still a child when I made the connection; the young man and little lass were my father and my mother. Winnie’s familiar story was repeated often until one day she asked me what the Good Lord had blessed me with. My reply - “I’m blessed I didn’t fall off a boat.”
Even though Jameson still came out of the pantry occasionally, I never heard Winnie retell the story of the young man and the little lass again.
As the years passed, Grandfather encouraged my resentment towards my father, while Winnie exchanged her resentment for regret. She knew the life I was given was grand but not reality. However, the fact remained she was in the employment of my grandfather and so she kept quiet. I'm certain it was a struggle to admit I had replaced the little lass she had lost, but the thought of encouraging me to seek out my father was unacceptable.
From the beginning, Murdoch's source of resentment has been crystal clear; my grandfather. His feeling towards Winifred has also been clear; total and complete dislike. This dislike was only matched by Winnie’s for my father.
What little I can gather, the dislike surfaced the moment they laid eyes on each other and over time has flourished into a name-calling, finger-pointing, eye-rolling, battle of wills. I think the main reason for the “dislike” is due to the fact they are so much “alike”; stubborn, opinionated and blunt.
Their solution to tolerate each other was by silently putting three thousand miles between them. And all was working well...until Kinsey, in her infinite wisdom, decided to be the voice of reason. Surprisingly, she managed to dance admirably to Murdoch's tune when he found out about the visit from Boston. Perhaps the young lady has more insight than I give her credit for. I am certain of one thing. The “little lass” hasn't a clue to the reaction Winifred McLoughlin can deliver when dissatisfied over a broken rule. If memory serves me correctly, “Deception” is number four.
~ S.
Teresa was the first to welcome the visitor from the east as the entourage arrived in the courtyard.
“Oh, Mrs. McLoughlin! I've been looking forward to meeting you. Scott and Kinsey have spoken so highly of you.”
Assisting Winnie off the wagon, Scott officiated the introductions. “Winifred McLoughlin, I am pleased to introduce you to the enthusiastic Teresa O’Brien.”
“Come here, child. Let me have a good look at ye.” Similar to the inspection Kinsey received, a weathered hand held the chin of the surprised recipient for scrutinizing. “Lovely! And O’Brien. A good family name.” With a nod and a wink, the friendship was sealed. “Call me Winnie, my girl. I shall be answering to nothing else.”
Helping his older brother with the traveler’s bags Johnny whispered his observation of the current situation. “Looks like Teresa passed the test. That leaves Jelly and the old man.”
Scott glanced up to spot his father striding towards their guest. “Why do I wish that was Jelly?”
Each of the patriarch’s “children” were reminded of something different as they watched the two adversaries meet after years of silence. Scott remembered the look his grandfather would get right before he fired an employee. Teresa swore the one sour nun at the local parish was Winnie’s sister. Kinsey recalled two poker players at the Government House staring at each other for five minutes straight. Johnny would have said he was the most accurate when thinking back to the cockfights he saw as a kid.
“Winifred.”
“Murdoch.”
Silence.
“I trust your trip was...satisfactory.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Silence.
“Your home appears to be... lovely.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Silence.
“Harlan send his regards.” A grunt was the best Murdoch could offer. “I will certainly let him know ye were pleased to hear he’s in good health.”
Silence.
“Well, Winifred, this ranch doesn't run by itself. I will see you at the evening meal.” A few steps into leaving, the host turned to extend an additional friendly welcome. “Six o’clock...sharp.”
Slowly, Winnie turned and rested her gaze upon the blonde haired young man. “Well, ScottyGarrett, I believe you and I will be having a conversation sometime in the near future. Now, can someone show me to my room so I may loosen this corset and…”. Blessing Kinsey with a sweet smile, Winifred McLoughlin finished her thought. “Relax and ponder.”
They no longer had the luxury of three thousand miles between them so the length of the dining area would have to do. Murdoch was seated at the head of the table, however, depending on one’s perspective, Winnie may have considered herself in charge at the opposite end. The middle ground was occupied by four hungry participants who were making every effort to keep a light-hearted conversation in constant motion. At the stroke of six, Maria commenced the delivery of what appeared to be every Mexican dish she knew how to prepare.
“Winifred, I thought you might enjoy dining on our more traditional fare.” Murdoch’s warm smile was convincing.
Johnny let out a low whistle. “WinnieMae, darlin’...you need to visit more often.”
As the father raised an eyebrow to his youngest son, his oldest son’s brow began to furrow as his mind began to calculate what dishes were being served. Chiles rellenos, menudo, enchiladas, pambazos, mixotes...every spicy entrée in Maria’s repertoire of cooking was laid out before them.
‘Dear God, the old man is trying to kill her the first night.’ Scott cleared his throat. “Winnie, you may want to approach some of these dishes...cautiously. A few can be an acquired taste.”
An admonished look from his friend told Scott he needed to stop talking and eat. One bite of rellenos disappeared into Winnie’s mouth. Gradually, her eyes shifted from Scott to the man at the end of the table; the man who was still wearing a warm and convincing smile. Silently, the morsel of the pepper stuffed fire was chewed and swallowed.
“That was inspiring, Murdoch. My compliments to Maria.”
The next morning’s breakfast table occupied the father and his two sons but no one else. All three we're on the verge of asking about the missing females when one appeared from the kitchen placing a basket on the table.
“Winnie baked her biscuits! Extraordinary!”
Teresa was next with a platter of thinly sliced beef and fried potatoes smothered in a rich gravy. “The eggs are coming!”
On cue, a large dish of scrambled eggs arrived courtesy of the cook. “Good mornin’ gentleman. Time for ye to eat heartily! The Good Lord has blessed us with a fine day.”
“What in the Sam Hill is going on here?" Murdoch’s gruff inquiry reflected what the younger men were thinking. “Where’s Maria?”
It was Winifred McLoughlin’s moment to express her warm and convincing smile.
“Do ye know that woman hasn't seen her two sisters in over six months. Shame on ye, Murdoch Lancer! I told her to be takin’ the week off while I was here. We helped her pack.”
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