“Follow me, please,” the maid said, leading them up the broad staircase.
Not a speck of dust covered any surface of the immaculately kept house. More boughs of Christmas greenery decorated the mahogany banister, giving off a fresh, outdoorsy scent. Once they reached the landing, the maid veered right and scratched lightly on the door at the end of the hallway.
“Come in,” a muffled feminine voice said from within.
The maid opened the door and stepped back. Daniel’s gut twisted, and he did his best to prepare himself as Meredith preceded him into the parlor.
“Danny!” a young girl cried. “Danny, you’re finally home!” A small form hurled into him.
“Emily?” His breath caught as he peered down into his little sister’s face. Like him, she had their mother’s strawberry blond curls. Her blue eyes were lit with excitement and happiness. “Emmy, you’ve grown so—”
“Oh, my boy,” his mother cried, and he soon found himself engulfed between his sister and mother. “We’ve missed you so.”
“Mam?” He hugged them both fiercely, his eyes stinging. “I … I don’t understand,” he croaked as he looked around the room to see if there was another woman present. “The maid said Mrs. Flynn awaited us.”
He disentangled himself and reached for Meredith’s hand again, his thumb playing over the pink diamond ring she wore next to her wedding band. Touching Meredith kept him grounded, and he needed anchoring at present. “Mam, this is my wife, Meredith. Meredith, my mother, Edith.”
“We’re so thrilled to meet you, my dear. You cannot imagine our excitement at receiving Dan’s note yesterday.” His mother kissed Meredith’s cheek. “Come, sit.” She gestured toward a grouping of loveseats and upholstered chairs set near the hearth.
The south facing bank of windows gave the room a light and airy feel. Thick rugs covered the polished wood floor, and a cheery fire burned bright in the ornate hearth of embossed, enameled iron. This was a warm and welcoming room. A few books rested on the scattered end tables, and a basket of knitting needles and yarn sat within easy reach of one of the richly upholstered chairs.
“I’ve ordered tea,” his mother said. “We have quite a bit of catching up to do.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both,” Meredith said.
“And you, ma’am.” Emily curtsied. “You look very well, Danny,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “Like a fine gentleman.”
He laughed and drew his sister in for another hug, lifting her off the floor. “So do you, Emmy, only like a fine young lady of course.” He took in the quality of the woolen dress she wore beneath the crisp, white pinafore. Her ankle boots were of fine leather, and she also had on thick, warm stockings. Hair ribbons the same color as her dress held back her hair, which reached the middle of her back.
Daniel joined Meredith on one of the loveseats. “How are you, Mam? You look to be in fine fettle as well.” She also wore a richly made gown. Hers was dark burgundy, obviously tailored and not at all the sort a servant might wear. She wore her hair swept up in the popular style. Still, her complexion was smooth but for the laugh lines around her eyes.
Mostly he was struck with the fact that she no longer bore the gaunt, ever-present grief and worry she’d carried since his father and sister had died.
“Thank you. I am well.”
Daniel glanced at the ring on her left hand. “I’m confused. You’re now Mrs. Flynn?”
“I am.” His mother’s eyes held a pleading look. “I did write you about George’s wife taking ill six months after you left.
“Aye, I remember,” he said. He hadn’t given that news much thought, a moment of sympathy perhaps. At the time, they were preparing to leave New York City for the wilds of Montana.
“Mrs. Flynn died of a lung fever shortly after I wrote that letter. George and I … Well, we were drawn to each other in commiseration. Having both been recently widowed, we shared our mutual grief. He and I became close friends during his year of mourning. We depended upon each other for company and solace, and we discovered we had a great deal more in common than grief.” Her expression softened. “George and I married a little over a year ago.”
“Why did you not write to me with such happy news?” Daniel frowned.
His mother’s eyes widened. “I did write, and when I heard nothing back, I wrote again. Both letters were sent to Charles Hannigan’s Uncle Robert in New York. Both times I asked that he forward my letter to you as we always did.”
Edith bit her lower lip, and her eyes glistened. “When I didn’t hear back, I feared something had happened to you, or you were angry with my decision to remarry.”
Daniel shook his head. “I never received either letter.”
“Mail reaching the territories has always been unreliable. Anything could’ve happened to your mother’s letters.” Meredith twined her fingers with his. “I’m just glad we’re together now.” She smiled at his mother. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
The door opened and a maid carried in a tray laden with tea and a variety of pastries, butter, and jam. Daniel’s mouth watered as she set it down on the table in front of his mother.
“How do you take your tea?” his mother asked, her gaze on his wife.
“A splash of milk and a little sugar, please.” Meredith leaned forward to accept the teacup. “How shall I address you, Mrs. Flynn?”
“Edith or Edie is fine. I hope we’ll become great friends. May we call you by your given name as well?”
“Of course. We’re family now, and being so far from my own parents and siblings, I’m thrilled to have you nearby,” she said.
Far from her family was quite the understatement. He longed to tell someone of the extraordinary events that led him to this moment. Perhaps he would write
