Chapter 85: Telling Their Stories

 

Mac and William explored the barn thoroughly. William talked the whole time and squealed with delight when the goat butted him softly in the stomach. He called Wags and searched for his cat, then brought them both to Mac to show off proudly.

Mac chuckled as he responded to the boy’s incessant questions. The infant he remembered was gone, and an inquisitive young lad had emerged. The child looked like Jenny.

Mac moved Valiente into his former stall next to Poulette. A fine spotted black colt occupied the stall on the other side of the mare, and a pair of mules filled two other stalls. Mac filled all the animals’ feed bins with hay, including the nanny goat’s. The farm was indeed prospering under Jenny’s care.

As Mac milked the goat, William asked, “Why don’t you have a cow?”

“The goat travels better,” Mac replied.

William wanted to know why, and Mac answered as best he could.

The simple barn chores eased his anxiety, until his mind wandered from William’s chatter, and he wondered what Jenny was thinking. She’d said so little since he arrived. She’d come into his arms easily, but hadn’t responded when he proposed marriage. He’d hoped she would immediately accept, smiling her joy.

Had he already bungled their reunion? But he hadn’t even started to tell her how he felt. At least she wasn’t married.

When they returned to the cabin, Jenny told William, “Bedtime,” and the boy slowly climbed the ladder to the sleeping loft, peering down at Mac from every step. A few minutes later, William popped his head over the edge of the ladder and asked, “Where will that baby sleep?”

Jenny sighed and said, “Go to bed.”

“Is William in my old bed upstairs?” Mac asked Jenny.

Jenny nodded.

“I’ll sleep in the barn tonight. May Maria stay in the cabin with you? She sleeps through the night. If I give her more milk before I go to bed, she shouldn’t bother you.”

“The cradle’s in the loft.” Jenny gestured toward the ladder.

“I’ll bring it down.”

“Bring a blanket, too. So she won’t be cold. And one for yourself.”

Mac climbed the ladder and saw the cradle he and Tanner had made three winters ago. It sat in a corner, filled with blankets and old clothes. William watched him cross the loft.

Mac emptied the cradle except for two blankets, and felt his way back down, grasping his load in one arm and hanging onto the ladder with the other. He set the cradle near the foot of Jenny’s bed. “She can turn over, but I don’t think she’ll fall out,” he said.

Jenny tucked Maria into the cradle, nestled the blanket around the sleeping baby, and set the cradle rocking gently. Then she sat at the table and asked, “Why are you here, Mac?”

Mac took a deep breath. The time had come to plead his case. Could he convince Jenny to marry him? “I missed you. I’ve realized I was happiest when we were together. I want to marry you.” He sat in a chair beside Jenny and took her hand. “A real marriage, if you’ll have me.”

“You left me.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny. About how I behaved that night.” He rubbed her fingers. She didn’t pull away. “About frightening you. And leaving you.”

She shook her head at him. “I wasn’t scared of you. Not after the first surprise. I was only afraid of being alone.” Then she looked at him. “I came to understand why you left. And I learned I can take care of William and myself without you. Without Zeke. Without anyone.”

“Don’t you want me here? Wouldn’t your life be easier if we were together?”

“If I wanted easy, I would have married Zeke.” Now she did pull her hand away.

Mac swallowed hard. She still wasn’t responding like he’d hoped. “But you didn’t marry him. Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” she said. “But I’d rather be alone than live without love.” She frowned. “You always said you’d leave. I knew you would. But how could you tell me you were dead? That I cannot excuse.”

“I wanted you to be free of me. I hadn’t yet admitted to myself that I love you, Jenny. It took me time to realize it.” Too much time, he thought, gritting his teeth.

“How do I know you won’t leave me again?” She looked down at her hands, but Mac saw her eyes brimmed with tears.

He tipped her chin up so she looked at him, then he brushed a tear off her cheek. “I love you, Jenny,” he repeated. “I won’t leave. If you say you’ll have me, I’ll never leave again.”

Jenny stared at him for two long breaths, then broke their gaze and pulled away. “What have you been doing all these years?”

Mac touched Jenny’s cheek again, wanting to touch far more, but knowing it wasn’t time yet. Then he stood and paced the room. “Mined for gold with Joel and a man named Huntington. We did all right. Worked for Lansford Hastings drafting the California Constitution. Opened a store. That did all right, too. Tried hauling gold to market. I have plenty of my own money now. I’m not dependent on my father or my brothers.”

“And Maria?”

“Her mother was Consuela Montenegro. The woman who wrote you. A friend. She worked in my store for a bit.”

Jenny paused, then asked in a tight voice, “Did you lie with her?”

Was she jealous? he wondered. “No.”

“So Maria isn’t yours?”

“No. Consuela was a prostitute. Maria’s father could be any of dozens of men, even Joel Pershing. But not me.” Mac hesitated, but he wanted Jenny to know how he felt about Consuela. “Despite her profession, she was a good woman, and I won’t hear ill spoken of her. But you deserve to know the truth.”

Jenny’s shoulders relaxed, and her voice was softer when she asked, “Why do you have Maria now?”

“Consuela died. Stabbed by a customer.”

He heard the harsh hiss of Jenny’s inhale. “Poor woman.”

“Before she died, she asked me to take her baby. I couldn’t say no.”

“Like I asked you to take William if I died?” she whispered.

Mac nodded and grinned. At least she remembered his promise to her at Whitman Mission. “I’m a sucker for a pretty lady with a baby.” He took a deep breath. “And you, Jenny, what have you done for three years? Besides raise William. He’s a clever boy.”

“Managed the farm. Taught school in the winters. I had help in the fields. First Tanner. Then Zeke, after Tanner left. And Robert O’Neil—an ex-soldier who worked for me until he married Rachel Pershing. Doc and Mrs. Tuller are nearby, and Esther and Daniel. They have two children now, plus Jonah. I managed.”

“So many changes,” Mac murmured. “Yet our friends are still here.”

“We had some hard times. William had smallpox. I was so afraid I’d lose him.” Jenny sighed, then shrugged. “The farm provides most of our food. The crops did well, and I sold the grain. The students pay in kind also. Your money helped, but I’ve replaced nearly all I took.”

“I left the money for you.”

Jenny stuck her chin in the air. She’d always done that when she was being stubborn. “I didn’t want anything from you. Not if you weren’t here.”

“So you’ve built a home in Oregon, like you wanted.”

“It’s a good life.”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Lonely? All my friends are here.”

“Did you miss me?”

Jenny’s eyes filled with tears again, and she rose to face the fire. “It isn’t fair for you to ask that,” she said into the flames. “You weren’t mine to miss.”

“I missed you.”

“Why did you come back, Mac?”

Mac frowned. She kept asking—she didn’t believe him. Mac searched his mind for a way to convince her he meant what he said. He reached in his pocket, felt William’s tattered bootie, and pulled it out. He handed it to Jenny.

She gasped. “William’s baby sock.”

“I picked it up the night I left,” he said. “I’ve carried it with me always. And now I’ve brought it back. Will you marry me, Jenny?”

“You never wanted to marry me before.”

“I was a fool, Jenny. Such a fool. I did want to marry you when I asked the first time. But you turned me down, and I didn’t want to push you.” Mac moved to stand beside her at the fireplace. His hands gently turned her to face him. Again, he wanted to touch more of her. “I can’t stay the way we were. The last night before I left proved that. If I stay, we have to marry. I want you as my lover and my wife.”

Jenny caught her breath and stared at him, her eyes searching his.

“If you won’t marry me,” Mac continued, “then Maria and I will leave—Boston, or back to California, it doesn’t matter if I’m not with you. But I can’t stay here without having you. I love you, and I want to marry you.” He tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Will you have me, Jenny? Can we put the past three years behind us?”

“Maybe,” she whispered.

“Can you have me as a husband after what happened to you in Missouri? After I left you here alone for all this time?”

Mac felt Jenny’s tension ebb away and she softened in his hands. “I’ve always loved you, Mac,” she said in a rush. “Before I knew what love was. From the first day we met and you saved me.”

Jenny stepped into Mac’s embrace. His heart swelled when she continued, “That night three years ago, I knew as soon as you’d gone. I’d rather have you as my lover than have you leave.” Her voice was muffled in his shoulder, but he heard every word. “You surprised me then. Scared me a little. But I’ve always loved you,” she repeated. “I trust you, body and soul. So yes, I’ll marry you.”

Mac raised her face to his and kissed her deeply. She fit so well in his arms, and her mouth tasted sweet and soft. He was home.