by Caryl McAdoo
She’d missed that excursion, the trip of a lifetime. Stupid, her staying to run off with Caleb. Saying goodbye to her daddy on the porch that morning traipsed across her mind, how she’d stood up to him.
Thinking she was so grown.
Oh, how she prayed Jethro was right, that Daddy would open his arms wide.
Father God, please, let it be so.
Dressed and downstairs, her own breakfast smelled so good, but she could only pick at it. Francy, too, ate like she had caught her and Jethro’s apprehension. As always happened, a good third of the Donoho’s patrons nodded at her, but no one who knew her too well.
Bless God, none of them approached.
Had she matured so much they weren’t exactly sure?
Possibly, they’d mistaken her for Rebecca sitting there in broad daylight with a strange man and two unknown children. Maybe Francy’s age threw them off. Oh well, whatever it was, Mary appreciated the privacy.
She would not lie and neither would she be rude.
The truth would come out soon enough.
Just not this day.
Should have insisted on room service.
Jethro put his napkin beside his half-eaten plate. “The horse and buggy’s waiting outside.”
“Yes, it is.” She forced a smile. “Actually, you just told us that not three minutes ago.” How could he be more nervous than she was?
“Right. So are we ready?”
“Yes, sir. I believe we are.” She stood, took the baby from Francy, then looked at him and managed a real, albeit weak, smile. “Shall we?”
He jumped to his feet. Soon she traveled the road she knew so well. Several new saw-board homes had sprung up along the way, until the buggy reached her father’s property. She pointed to the pile of rocks that had been there her whole life, and she couldn’t remember when he said he claimed this block.
“How much farther? We getting close?”
“About another three miles before we turn off the road.”
“Wow, how much land does your family have?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, forty something here and half again that much along the Llano River.”
“Forty what?”
“Thousand acres, silly. Each headright is over four thousand, and between him and Levi, they bought all they could get their hands on.”
“You’re talking over sixty thousand acres, Mary. How much of it is in cotton?”
Staring at him, she burst out laughing. “How would I know? Only thing I do know about cotton is that I hate picking it.”
“You had to pick cotton?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve done it all. Planted it, chopped it, picked it, and skinned the mules. Once upon a time, Daddy worked me hard, then.…” She giggled at the look on his face. “It wasn’t all that bad. We all helped, and he made it fun. Then the more slaves he bought and freed, the more he wanted us girls to concentrate on our studies.”
“After he emancipates them, he hires them?”
“Yes, sir. Pays a good wage. Lets them build their own home if they want. And there’s a bunkhouse, too, for the ones who don’t.” She spotted the lane that led to the big house; filled her lungs, then exhaled slowly.
The hour she been dreading was upon her. She pointed again. “That’s our turn. Right past that little block of plowed black dirt.”
Jethro turned where she told him to, then fell deathly silent. Seemed his lips moved some. Was he praying? Good idea. Past the eight, down by the smokehouse, then up through the seventy-five acres that once was the home block.
Steady climbing got them up on the hill, the bottoms stretched out for miles to the north—all the way to the Langford Creek.
Home.
Her bottom lip quivered. Even Francy sat silent. Movement to her left must have drawn him to look, too. A gang hoeing on the far end. One of them took off running toward the house. She nudged Jethro.
“Pick up the pace, please, sir.”
“Why? Someone after us?”
“No, that man who just now took off running is headed toward the house; I’d like to beat him there.”
He slapped the reins over the rent horse’s back, but the old boy had a mind of his own. She stiffened. Never could sneak up on him. Levi said as hard as he tried, he couldn’t either. On the other hand, Daddy always appeared just as the play-fighting got good.
Maybe he’d saved her over the years, but he sure could be a kill-joy.
Jethro slapped the reins again, with the same results.
She put her hand over his. “Never mind. We’ll be there when we’re there.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The horse rounded the last corner. The water tower came into view first then the house’s top story. Her heart flipped, pounding against her ribs.
“Is this where your daddy lives?”
She looked back.
Francy sat wide-eyed, holding the baby.
“Yes, ma’am. This is where I grew up.” She had to swallow a wad of cotton before she cleared her throat and could go on. “That little house back a ways? That’s where I was born, but Daddy built the first wing pretty quick after that.”
She looked back again. The horse strained a bit climbing the last hill to the house. New Blue stood in the yard all bristled and barking.
She put two fingers to her lips and whistled. “Hey, Newly! It’s me.”
The dog abruptly stopped then raced toward her. The front door sprang open. Her father stepped out onto the porch. He took one look then bolted toward the buggy. “Mary Rachel! Is that you, Baby? You’ve come home!”
“Stop the buggy.”
Jethro did, and she climbed down, careful of her tummy, and ran toward him. Newly met her first. She bent enough to give him a quick rub without ever taking her eyes off her father.
He loved her! He still loved her!
“Oh, Baby. You’re home.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. He slowed and held his arms out. She ran into his embrace.
“Daddy!” She sobbed and held him tight. “Daddy, I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you! You’re home. Nothing else matters.”
About like Jethro figured, except for the tears. He’d not expected the man to cry like a little girl. Francy stepped into the seat Mary had vacated, handed him the baby, straightened her dress, then took her back.
“Is that Mama’s daddy?”
“It is.”
“So that makes him my granddaddy. Think I should get out and go give him a hug?”
“Let’s wait. They haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“Like me and Amos. I’m missing him something terrible. Can you believe it? I’ll probably cry, too, once we get back, and I see him again.”
Stifling a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Maybe worse.”
Folks stood on the porch, gawking at Mary and her father, then three young ladies burst from the confab and ran toward her, had to be Gwen, CeCe, and Bonnie. Mister Henry sure marked up his babies. Three boys cold trailed them.
What had to be the ranger himself, Levi Baylor and his Rose grinned, but only looked on.
Where was Wallace Rusk and Rebecca? He wanted to see for himself if it was possible for another female to be more beautiful than his Mary, except he liked the way her father put the Rachel with it.
Maybe he’d start calling her that, too.
Henry released his oldest to her sisters then turned his attention to Jethro. The man strolled toward him. Though tears stained his face, the steel in his eyes shown cold even from ten feet or better.
He threw a nod, smiled, and extended his hand. “Thank you for bringing my baby home.”
Francy handed Jethro the baby then jumped down and ran around to the elder’s side. “Hey, I’m Francis but everyone calls me Francy. Like fancy, isn’t that too cute? I like it. So, sir, if you’re my mother’s daddy, then you’re my granddaddy!”
She wrapped her arms around him and hu
gged him hard, while the man screwed his face into disbelief, but patted Francy’s back and pressed her with a one-handed hug. “Good to meet you, young lady.” He laughed. “I’m Mary Rachel’s father alright.”
She turned from Henry. “This here’s my daddy. His name’s Jethro, and he and Mama are getting hitched as quick as possible after you say it’s fine.” She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “We’ve come all the way from California just to ask you.”
“All that way?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t know why they couldn’t figure out it’d be fine.”
He looked from the girl to Jethro and smiled. Not exactly how he intended to spill the beans, but…. Anyway, it’d do. He slowly let the breath out that he’d been holding, tightened his hold on Susannah, and climbed down. He extended his hand. “Like she said, Jethro Risen, sir. Pleased to meet you.”
“So Caleb went and got himself murdered?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Wasn’t there. Mary Rachel knows more about it than I do.”
The man he hoped would soon be his father-in-love touched Susie’s chin and smiled. “She’s beautiful. Your baby?”
He shook his head. “Caleb’s, sir.”
Before he could grill Jethro more, Mary Rachel and her sisters came for the baby and Francy. How could a gaggle of girls giggle and laugh so much while the tears still flowed freely?
Henry got swept up in the mob that now included the beautiful redheaded Rose and a lady who had to be Mama May. All moved like a swarm toward the house, his Francy in the midst with the young boys darting in and out, punching one another.
He followed close, thankful that he still drew breath, but the real test lay ahead.
Henry Buckmeyer hadn’t even got warmed up. Jethro was sure of it, just like he knew the sun would set that afternoon. Hopefully he’d live to see it rise in the morning.
Chapter Thirty
Jethrodrifted amongst the sea of strangers, speaking only when spoken to, saying as little as possible, while Mary Rachel—everyone called her by both her given names—laughed, hugged, and showed off Susannah and Francy.
The ten-year-old played the belle-of-the-ball part well for all her new aunts.
Dinner was served, although he had no idea when anyone had time to cook, by all the ladies. Jethro sat between his loves. The food tasted exceptional, but he still couldn’t eat much. Then afterward, the men and boys cleared the table and washed the dishes—all the males—even Mister Henry took part.
Jethro tried but was restrained. Guests were not allowed, little brother Houston informed him.
Then the grand inquisitor and his lovely bride invited him and Mary Rachel into the library, except the invitation sounded more like a summons. Mama May took a chair next to her husband, who sat behind his desk.
How many times had Jethro’s father done the same?
“Francy says you two came to get my blessing for your union.”
The man didn’t waste any words. Jethro liked that. “Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
Mary Rachel nodded. “We’d like to be married as soon as possible, Daddy.”
He leaned forward. “Why the rush?”
Time had come for the hard part. Jethro put his hand over Mary Rachel’s and waited for her to tell her father. He almost wished he could, but it was her story and her daddy.
“Daddy, Mama May…” She ducked her head. Tears trickled down her cheeks, then her hand went to her belly. “Please just say yes, and let’s call the preacher.”
Henry jumped to his feet and glared at Jethro. “What have you gone and done?’
“No, Daddy!” Mary Rachel raised her head, wiped her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. I am with child, but Jethro’s not the father.”
“Then who is? And why isn’t he the one who brought you home?”
“Sir, your daughter has been deceived, twice now; the first culprit has gone on to his reward. The other turned out to be a married man, and Mary chose not to inform him of her condition.
“I love her, sir. And with God’s help, I’ll be the best husband possible for the rest of our lives. I’ll provide for her, Susannah, and the baby coming. I hope to grow old with this lovely lady.”
“Oh, my darling girl.” Mama May burst into tears, coming around the desk, and hugged Mary. “I am so very sorry for all your heartaches, my precious.”
“Sweetheart?” Mister Henry sat back down and nodded toward him. “Do you love his man?”
She turned toward Jethro and smiled. “Yes, I do, Daddy. At first, I couldn’t stand him. He was too bossy.” She glanced at her father then back. “He’s a lot like you, Daddy. He’s so wise and knows so much. Claimed his love would be enough, that I didn’t have to love him. But…” She turned back to her hero. “I’ve definitely fallen deeply in love with him. You are a good man, Jethro Risen, and I do love you.”
His heart swelled until his chest was sure to burst.
She loved him.
He swam in the pools of her eyes and drank her in. She’d confessed it to her father. She loved him. He never expected it so soon, wanted to jump up and do a jig or shout or something. Instead, he rose.
Mama May stepped away, and gave him room, tears flowing.
He kissed her cheek then knelt beside her. “Praise God.”
She threw her arms around his neck and wept. “I love you. I do, Jethro!”
He only smiled, couldn’t speak. His mouth must be about to split his cheeks in two. He’d never been so full of joy in his whole life. And things were about to get better! How could he be so blessed? How could God love him so?
“Ladies.” Henry stood. “If you would be so kind, I need a few minutes alone with Mister Risen.”
Mama May took Mary Rachel’s hand and helped her stepdaughter up. She had seemed on the verge of interjecting herself into the conversation several times, but only blew her husband a kiss.
Like the dutiful wife she appeared to be, she ushered Mary Rachel out. The heavy oak door closed. Jethro stiffened his back and faced his last obstacle to the desire of his heart.
“It’s my understanding that you and Mary Rachel are owners of a Mercantile.”
“Yes, sir. My partners and I bought out John Wheeler’s half when he went north.”
“Tell me about your partners.”
“Moses and I are equal, and Elijah Eversole has a smaller portion, twenty percent. And then a couple who’d been helping Mary with the store traded their shop for a percentage of our part in the Mercantile.”
For the next few minutes, he filled in the man on his relationship with Moses, Elijah and the Wingates.
“You mentioned with God’s help. Are you a believer?”
“Yes, sir. I was lost when I first met your daughter.” He chuckled. “Probably why she took no shine to me and my arrogant attitude. But now I’m found, blood bought, and heaven bound.”
“Been baptized?”
“Yes, sir. Have a Methodist preacher, Brother Paul, who accepted that job. He likes giving Bibles away, and I’ve been doing my best to keep his supplies up.”
“So you and your partners have a gold claim?”
“Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“I’ve heard the easy pickings are gone. Is that why you bought into my baby’s store?”
“No, sir, not at all. We’re hard rock miners, and I bought the store for Mary’s sake. John wanted out. He loved her, guess every man who knew her did. But she wouldn’t marry Caleb’s cousin.
“He said he couldn’t stand being around her, hurt too much. She wanted to borrow money to buy us out, but by then, I was smitten myself, and…” He shrugged. “The Lord had sent Francis and her brother Amos to me and…”
‘How’s that?”
“When I first met them, Amos—he’s sixteen—was dressing his sister as a boy. She went by Shorty. Dirty enough to fool me. But the Lord spoke to my heart that she needed Mary.” Jethro chuckled. “What a day that was.
”
“You’re rambling, son. Let’s get back to your mine.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“What is it producing? You and your partners making wages?”
Jethro smiled. So that’s what the man wanted to know. “Much better than that, sir. It’s been successful beyond my dreams. We have over fifty thousand on deposit, not counting the five kegs of nuggets that the bank is holding in its vault for us. So, yes, sir. You could say we’ve struck it rich.”
Henry smiled. “So you don’t need her store?”
“No, sir, but she loves it.” He grinned. “She’s got about the best business sense—man or woman—around. Drives a hard bargain, but is fair to a fault.”
“You been married before?”
“No, sir.”
“Sired any children?”
“No, sir.”
“Bother you she’s carrying another man’s child?”
“Of course it does. But I don’t know how I could love Francy more, and Susie’s little smile melts my heart. How can I not love this baby as well? She’s innocent.” He grinned. “I’m in love, sir. Your daughter’s condition is regrettable, but it’s also why she agreed to come here with me. I knew she needed to reconcile. She was sure you hated her.”
“What?”
“I told her that couldn’t be true. But she never would’ve come or agreed to marry me, if there hadn’t been a time element due to the pregnancy. So I count it a blessing.”
“What are you planning on doing with your money?”
“I’ve put half of my shares into trust for the orphanage we’re building. I found this little valley, a little over five hundred acres and bought it. Carpenters were just starting on the main building when we left. If I can be reconciled with my father, I want to open a miners’ bank, get him to California to help me run it on the grubstake principle.”
“Wouldn’t think the gold rush would’ve produced many orphans.”
“You’d be surprised the number of kids living on the streets. God sending Francy is what started the wheels turning. Plan on setting up a dairy on the property for the kids to help with, teach them to work and a means to support themselves. Above all, show them God’s love.”
