A Matter of Love and Virtue – Extended Epilogue

“September really is a lovely time to hold a wedding.”

“Oh, I agree. Not too hot, not too cool. Perfect.”

“I’m so happy they chose The Church of the Spanish Mists for the ceremony. So nicely decorated, with all those beautiful stained glass windows.”

“And the Rev. Sterling is such a love. So compassionate toward all the members.”

Half a dozen members of the Needles and Thread Sewing Circle were sitting together in a group at the front of the church, so as to catch and comment upon every detail. Dressed in their finest for what they considered the event of Davis’s season, they were happy to spread gossip and cheer to all those in the vicinity.

“What a pleasure to go places without having to worry about being accosted by that dreadful Hillen Dale Gang!”

“Judge Cavanaugh gave all of them short shrift, didn’t he? Ten years in prison for the lot. And the trial didn’t even run that long.”

“I know. Some folks were wishing it had gone on longer. More entertainment value, I suppose.”

“Can you imagine, those Huttons pulling off all those horrible crimes and living here, right under our very noses?”

“She didn’t get as much of a sentence as her husband. Probably the jury felt sorry for her.”

“Hardened criminal, I say. Didn’t you read the things she ranted about, when Morgan Fry interviewed her for the Daily Register? My, my, such words out of a woman’s mouth!”

“Well, we can certainly thank our sheriff and our stalwart men for finally wiping out that nest of vipers. All of us are able to sleep better at night. That is one fine lawman.”

Topics shifted and changed like the waves of the sea. The whispers were made loud enough for the whole group to hear, along with others in the surrounding pews, although occasionally excitement or annoyance raised someone’s voice a tad.

“I hear she’s having Nancy Brannigan as her matron of honor.”

“Well, she really should. After all, it was through her efforts that Will finally got up the courage to take the plunge.”

“Did you know she’d asked that pretty little sister of the sheriff’s to be an attendant?”

“Really? Well, that’s fine. I must admit, I had my doubts when the girl first began being introduced around town, but she’s turned out real well, hasn’t she? No trouble a’tall.”

“Still, one of those savages…why, you can’t tell what might happen.”

“Oh, now Lila, you let her alone. She’s just as nice as she can be. Clementine has brought her to the Circle a couple of times, and we were all amazed at the jewelry she’d made.”

“Shush, there’s the music starting. Look, they’re walking down the aisle.”

First Kai, in a simple green lace dress with modified leg o’ mutton sleeves, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers; then Nancy, dressed in a similar style. The color was immensely flattering for both, with their dark hair and eyes. They were fast friends already; with the fall school session just begun, Kai was attending every day and devouring every book she could lay hands on.

Sheriff Channing, standing at the altar with both Will Brannigan and Mayor Ashley Fox as support, paid no attention to the whispers and softened buzz of conversation. He could hardly be interested in any member of the congregation, or anyone attending today, when he had eyes and heart only for the girl he was waiting for.

Impatiently he shifted position. How much longer? Sometimes he wished they could have just eloped two months ago, as he’d wanted. Then all this folderol would have come to nothing. Except that friends and family insisted they do this right, so that the town could help them celebrate. Also, he felt that Clementine probably secretly deamed of a church wedding with all the trimmings.

Who was he to gainsay her dreams?

Of course, if they had run away, he could have gotten her into his bed a lot sooner.

Sighing for the impiety of such lascivious thoughts in a holy sanctuary, he shifted again to ease constriction.

Where was she? Had she gotten cold feet at the last minute? Had she changed her mind?

The organist took on a new melody. And there she was.

His bride. His soon-to-be-wife. Beautiful as a white rose in something slim and satiny, with a small bustle at the back over which a fingertip veil cascaded.

Logan, with his sister’s delighted assistance, had begun getting the cabin in shape for occupancy of a couple. The good doctor, Will, and even Mayor Fox, on occasion, had pitched in to enlarge this room, add a window to that room, build an additional room onto the back, put an extra fireplace here and another there. It would be snug and comfortable to weather whatever storms might come along once they settled in.

While his thoughts had meandered, upon considering their lives together, Clementine had reached him. He took her cold fingers in his, she smiled tremulously, and each, given direction by the pastor, repeated their vows.

It was a grand wedding.

And a grand party of celebration after.

One so happy, so gratifying, that Mayor Fox, suddenly having to contemplate a house empty of his daughter’s wonderful presence, decided to start considering the possibility of beginning his own romantic relationship. Depending, of course, on the number of single ladies living in Davis.

*  *  *  *  *

Change, whether positive or negative, is inevitable.

Both Logan and Clementine had withstood a number of major changes in their lives, from childhood on. Now, whatever happened, they would be together to confront those changes.

During the following year, Clementine moved the focus of her being from the Davis mansion to their cabin in the woods. It was near enough to town that she could still easily walk back and forth to the Sewing Circle, to church, to meet Nancy for dinner now and then, or to visit with her father and Josephine Landers.

There, too, changes had been taking place.

Due to school work and distance, Kai often spent the night at the Fox house. Her presence there helped add light and joy, as somewhat of a replacement for the loss of Clementine; her absence at the Channing house gave the newlyweds privacy and a strengthening of the bonds of companionship. Rather than feeling uprooted, as if she had no place at all, Kai considered herself blessed that she had two homes to call her own.

It seemed, for all concerned, a very satisfactory arrangement.

True to his earlier ruminations, Ashley Fox had placed himself upon the matrimonial block. He could choose among several fortunate and generous ladies to squire about, but, more and more, he was becoming enamored of a widow named Dorothea Roberts. It might not be long, he had hinted to his daughter on more than one occasion, before he gave her a stepmamma. What did she think of that?

Clementine had been able to find nothing wrong with Mrs. Roberts, who seemed quite a likable, if a rather talkative, person indeed. If the woman could make her father happy in his waning years, so much the better.

Still, this was just one more change.

“Welcome home, Logan, dear,” she greeted him one evening, with, as usual, a fresh cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

He pulled her into his arms for a fervent kiss. “I never get tired of you sayin’ that, sweetheart,” he told her huskily. “Sit down and talk to me for a bit. Whadja do today?”

“Oh, worked in the garden, mostly,” she answered, following him onto the warm Mexican tiles out back. He had added a bench and a couple more chairs, since they often spent summer evenings there, watching the stars, feeding a small bonfire off to the edge.

Clementine loved her gardens almost as much as she loved her house.

A huge plot had been given over for vegetables, where she planted and weeded and cultivated and harvested. This fall, Kai had promised to help her in the fine art of canning, with an eye toward beans and peas, tomatoes and sauce, applesauce from a neighboring farmer’s orchard and beef from a neighboring rancher’s herd.

Who would ever have thought, she sometimes joked to her husband, that this city girl would take hold of country life with such zest?

Besides the several rain barrels, which caught and held water for their use, he had built a series of small chutes as a conduit, so that she wouldn’t have to fill and carry pails.

Her flower gardens were something else.

She would admit she had gone slightly mad for flowers. Now she could understand Josephine Lander’s enthusiasm for going out to dig in the dirt. Beds of red and orange zinnias, colorful moss roses, purple yarrow, brilliant blue larkspur – they were not only pleasing to the eye but attracted a variety of butterflies. Then there was the herb section, with English lavender and hyssop. She had even devoted one small area to a few cacti and succulents.

The Needle and Threads were already discussing the possibility of forming a splinter group just for gardening, with Clementine as president.

Logan didn’t really know what she did all day. He only knew that the house was always clean and full of the delicious scents of flowers and cooking and Clementine, herself.

He also knew that he hadn’t ever understood true happiness until Clementine had entered his life. Coming home to her every night was the best present in the world.

Until the next change.

“I sometimes get a little lonely,” she confessed now, snuggling into the curve of the arm that fit her shape so perfectly.

“Do you, darlin’? I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, I just miss you so much. I am all alone here, you know.”

“Kai sometimes complained about the same thing,” he realized, struck. “Does it make you that unhappy? B’cause, if it gets too bad, I reckon we can find a house in town to buy. I don’t ever want you feelin’ unhappy, Clem.”

“Noooo, not so much that.” She played with the top button of his shirt, then with a little tendril of hair underneath. “I just thought — well, sometimes I would appreciate company.”

Startled, he looked down at her. “You want me to come home for dinner more often? Ouch, Clem, that hurt.”

“Sorry. It’s simply—oh, you can be so obtuse at times!”

Shifting position, Logan took her face in both hands. “What is it, honey? You know I’d do anything I can for you. I’d give you the moon if you wanted it.”

“Logan, my love.” Tears glimmered as she leaned forward to kiss his lips. “You’ve already given me everything I want. We’re going to have a baby.”

*  *  *  *  *

By 1873, Clementine Fox Channing had become, without her even intending to do so, the acknowledged leader of society in Davis, Nuevo Mexico Territory.

Her beauty and figure were beyond compare, as was her intellect. She was known far and wide for her compassion for anyone or anything weaker, helpless, vulnerable; and her instant decision to make matters right, no matter what it took, only added to her reputation. She worked through her church and through the Community Center for charity and every good cause that came along.

She was the proud mother of two-year-old Philip, a tawny-haired toddler with his mother’s blue eyes, and the very proud wife of well-respected Sheriff Logan Channing, whose claim to fame (did he but choose to use it) was the capture of the Hillen Dale Gang.

Flaws? She would be the first to admit, with a laugh, that she possessed many. She still tended to act first and think later, and some teasing remark made by her husband could sometimes throw her into a tailspin. Which resulted in an argument, which resulted in a fight, which eventually resulted in a make-up session.

Kai had graduated from the Davis Academy and was currently debating her options. Should she seek out a college back East? Should she try for some sort of occupation in the area? Or should she consider accepting the hand of one of several very responsible young men who had made their interest in her known — and were quite persistent about it?

Nancy and Will were expecting their first little angel any day now. The nursery was ready, the Brannigans were ready; now all that child had to do was “kindly get with it!”, according to a breathless and much-put-upon Nancy.

Ashley Fox had wed his Dorothea last year, in a quiet ceremony with no fuss or feathers. They seemed quite happy together, in the house that Mrs. Landers had created. Since Josephine’s nose was then put just a bit out of joint, she ended up moving away and into the boardinghouse run by Mrs. Burns. The two ladies got along, so everyone said, fabulously.

“Clem, Logan.”

She looked up from the bowl of mashed turnips she was putting on the table. “Yes, Papa?”

The couple had been invited over for Sunday dinner, and Dorothea was making much over Philip and his new puppy.

“I have a small announcement.”

The Channings exchanged a wary glance.  This sounded serious. Bad news?

“No, don’t look like that.” Ashley chuckled. “Dotty complains that I work too much, and she wants to spend more time with me. So I’ve decided to retire.”

“Retire? Good heavens, Papa, that’s a relief. You had me thinking—”

A brush of hand, as at something inconsequential. “Sorry, honey. But, here’s the thing. I figure we ought to keep the office of mayor in the family. What do you think?”

“Keep it how?” Logan removed the dog’s furiously wagging tail from his son’s mouth.

“Well, this is my idea. You can run for the position, Logan. It would be perfect. The townsfolk know you and love you; why, you’d be a shoo-in for the job.”

He dunked a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee cup. “You forget something, sir. I’m currently Sheriff, and I happen to like this job. Why trade it off for somethin’ political?”

“Because you could do so much more as mayor, son. Trust me. You could work forward on a lot of projects we both want for this town.”

“Ahuh,” said Logan dryly. “And have who take over as sheriff?”

“Why, Will Brannigan, of course. It’s perfect.”

The spoon stopped stirring; Logan’s gaze shifted to the brilliant sky as seen through the window, and contemplated. “You think so?” he asked, after a bit.

“I know so.”

Logan turned toward his wife, seeking, as always, her opinion on the matter. “Dunno, sweetheart. What do you think?”

A whole vista could open up. Challenges, conquests, and changes. And, hopefully, all for the better.

Clementine, eyes shining, assured him it was a brilliant suggestion. And she would support him every inch of the way, until he had won his campaign.

And so she did. And so he did.

Life is full of possibilities.

THE END

---

Readers who read this book also liked