Chapter 78: Is It Love?

 

Jenny had little time to think over the next week while the harvest continued. Not only were the grain crops ripe, but her garden produced more vegetables every day to gather and preserve. But whenever she sat for a moment, Samuel Abercrombie’s threat filled her mind.

She tried to tell herself Esther had only done what most wives would do and the gossip between Esther and Daniel wouldn’t harm her. But she couldn’t convince herself that Esther’s loose tongue wouldn’t cause Mr. Abercrombie to make good on his threat to throw her off the land.

On Tuesday, September 10, when Zeke and O’Neil were supposed to be harvesting Jenny’s fields, only Zeke showed up, and he was late. As he rode into the yard, Zeke shouted, “Rachel’s having her baby. It’s coming early. That’s why O’Neil ain’t here. Esther’s gone to help. She needs you to mind her children. I’m off to tell Doc Tuller, soon as I saddle your mare for you. Then I’ll be back to harvest your wheat.”

“I can manage Poulette,” Jenny said. “You get Doc.” No matter her anger toward Esther, she had to help out now.

Zeke rode off.

Jenny gathered a bag of mending to take, readied William, saddled Poulette, and rode to Esther’s house. Esther was gone when Jenny arrived, and Daniel was with the children.

“I hate to leave you with our three young’uns plus William,” Daniel said, a harried expression on his face. “But it’s harvest. I have to get our crops in.”

“We’ll be fine,” Jenny said, smiling. “The older ones can play, and I’ll enjoy snuggling Samuel.”

But Samuel was toddling now and didn’t want to snuggle. Jenny had forgotten how active a year-old baby could be. She couldn’t do any mending, between supervising four children—all under four years old—and cooking first the noon meal and later supper.

Jenny’s mind wandered while she peeled potatoes. This is what her life would be like if she married Zeke. They’d have more children probably. It would be nice for William to have younger brothers and sisters. Could she handle a houseful of babies and a husband—keeping them fed and clothed—even when she was huge with child?

She’d been enceinte for most of the journey to Oregon, then had a newborn, yet she’d cooked and washed and minded the wagon the entire trip. Other women—Esther’s mother for one—had handled many children and been expecting another baby also. But then Mrs. Pershing died of childbirth fever, Jenny remembered with a pang of sorrow. Family life brought risks and burdens along with happiness.

Dusk had descended over the valley when Esther returned. “It’s a boy,” Esther announced with a smile. “Tiny thing, but seems healthy. Named Robert after his pa. Mr. O’Neil’s busting with pride. You’d think no man ever fathered a son before.”

Jenny laughed. “Mr. O’Neil probably never thought he’d be a papa. How’s Rachel?”

“That girl was born to be a mother,” Esther said shaking her head. “Easy pregnancy, easy childbirth, even though it was her first and he came early. Mrs. Tuller’s staying with her tonight. Shall we visit tomorrow?”

Jenny nodded. “I can’t go for long. I didn’t finish my mending today, and I have tomatoes and beans to put up at home. But I want to see Rachel and her baby.”

Esther grinned as she sank into a chair and picked up Samuel. “Now you see what my life’s like. All these children. I’m frazzled by day’s end.” She nuzzled the baby’s nose with hers. “But I love ’em all.”

The next morning Jenny and William returned to Esther’s with the wagon. Esther climbed on the seat beside Jenny and took Samuel on her lap. The other children scrambled into the back with William. The wagon rolled along the rough road toward Rachel’s cabin.

“Visitors,” Mrs. Tuller exclaimed when they arrived. “Just what the new mother needs.”

Rachel was up, though she walked gingerly and had dark shadows under her eyes. She showed the baby off to Jenny. Jenny’s eyes welled with tears when she took the newborn into her arms. “So sweet,” she whispered. “Little Robert.”

“We’re calling him ‘Bobby,’” Rachel said. “So’s not to confuse him with his pa.”

“No one’s going to confuse this mite with his big old pa for a long time,” Esther said, giggling.

Mrs. Tuller bustled near the fireplace preparing meals to leave for Rachel’s family. She and ten-year-old Ruthie Pershing kept the toddlers busy so Jenny, Esther, and Rachel could talk.

“I’m so happy,” Rachel murmured, but Jenny would have known that even if she hadn’t spoken. The new mother looked bloated and worn after labor, but her face beamed with love and joy.

Esther smiled and touched her sister’s arm. “As you should be,” she said to Rachel. “Enjoy it now, before the cares of mothering wear you out.”

“Are you worn out?” Jenny asked Esther.

“How could I not be?” Esther said. “Three babes, and another on the way.”

Jenny gasped.

“Yes, another.” Esther grimaced. “At this rate, I’ll die younger’n Ma.”

“Esther, don’t say such a thing,” Mrs. Tuller said sharply from the other side of the room. “You have a good husband and lovely children.” Jenny remembered Mrs. Tuller had lost all her sons back in the States.

“Yes’m, I do,” Esther said with a sigh. “But I’m plumb tuckered out caring for ’em. Wish Daniel’d go off soldiering like Pa did, so I could have a rest from birthing. Or to California like Captain McDougall—” Esther stopped suddenly. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I forgot.”

“Never mind, Esther,” Jenny said. “I’m past caring about Mac.” She was lying to her friends and to herself, but Mac had made his feelings clear—he didn’t want her.

“What are you going to tell Zeke?” Esther asked. “He’s fretting about your answer, I know.”

“I told him I’d decide by the harvest dance,” Jenny said. “I want to be certain I’m making the right decision.”

“How can you have any doubt, Jenny?” Mrs. Tuller said. “You need a husband, and William needs a father.”

Jenny glanced over at William and the other children playing across the room. “I can’t talk about it here,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could tell Esther that Zeke had referred to William as a bastard. Esther might side with her brother, rather than with Jenny.

When they were ready to leave, Mrs. Tuller asked for a ride back to her cabin. Jenny drove with Mrs. Tuller on the wagon seat beside her. Esther sat in back with the children.

“Are you really not settled about marrying Zeke Pershing?” Mrs. Tuller asked Jenny quietly.

“I’m not sure I love him, Mrs. Tuller,” Jenny said. “Not like Esther loves Daniel.” She heard Esther snort behind her. “Or like Rachel loves Mr. O’Neil.”

Mrs. Tuller patted her hand. “Love comes, Jenny. When a woman marries a good man, love comes. You don’t have anything to worry about with Zeke.”

“Maybe not,” Jenny said. “But I wish I were sure.”

That evening as she thought over everything her friends had said, Jenny wrote:

 

Wednesday, September 11th—The Tullers and Esther and Rachel all tell me to marry Zeke. There are many good reasons to do so, but something is holding me back. Is it only that he isn’t Mac?

 

It dawned on Jenny that her mama must have been in a similar situation after Papa died. Mama had had a child and a farm to manage and no man around to help. Mama had chosen to marry Bart Peterson.

In Jenny’s mind, her mama had made a terrible decision. Mr. Peterson had been a depraved villain—emboldened perhaps by Sheriff Johnson and his son, but every man is accountable for his own actions.

Zeke was not wicked like Bart Peterson. He’d been loyal to Jenny for years. She might not like what he said about William, but he’d never hurt the boy.

Oh, Mama, Jenny thought, what should I do?

William’s third birthday was September 16, a Monday. The day before, despite the busy harvest season, Jenny took a pound cake and berry compote to the picnic after the church service in Oregon City. She invited all their friends to share the cake, and they all congratulated William.

Zeke stood beside Jenny while everyone sang “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” to the boy. Like a father would do, Jenny thought, tears creeping into her eyes. But Zeke rarely touched William, other than to lift him into or out of a wagon. She’d never seen him hug William.

Would Zeke be a good father to her son? That was the most important question in her mind. She didn’t want her decision to hurt William.

Zeke took Jenny and William home after church. “Won’t you give me an answer, Jenny?” he asked, when he untied his horse from behind the wagon in her cabin yard.

“You said I could have until the dance.” Jenny knew she sounded curt, but she wanted the full time to consider.

“I hate not knowing,” Zeke said, taking her hand. “I want to make plans with you. Where we’ll live. How we’ll handle both farms.”

“I think of little else,” Jenny said. That much was true. “Will Mr. Abercrombie let me keep Mac’s claim, do you think?”

Zeke shrugged. “If not, one farm is enough. It may be all I can manage, with helping Pa also.” He rubbed her palm. “Just let me know you won’t turn me down,” Zeke said.

She smiled at him. “I’m still thinking.”

Zeke leaned over and kissed Jenny softly on the lips. “Think harder,” he said with a grin. Then he swung into the saddle and left her.

Jenny touched her mouth as she watched Zeke ride off.