Sister's Choice

by Judith Pella

  “How—?”

  “It wasn’t hard to guess. Every girl in town has been after Colby at one time or other.”

  “What about you?” Maggie asked.

  “Even me.” Mabel shrugged. “I gave it up when I saw how serious he was for your sister.”

  “Now that he’s free . . . ?”

  “No . . .” She got a dreamy look on her face. “Stanley Driscoll is paying court to me. You probably don’t know him, but his father owns the Driscoll Steamship line. I met him last summer when we were in Astoria.”

  That was indeed a perfect match for Mabel—a rich city fellow. But Maggie was surprised she hadn’t heard anything but vague rumors about this. The gossip from the Sewing Circle always managed to drift down to the daughters eventually.

  “I hadn’t heard, Mabel,” Maggie said, then added politely, “Congratulations.”

  “It’s not official yet, and Mother wants to keep it quiet until . . . well, just for a bit.” Then Mabel went on, returning to the earlier direction of the conversation. “You won’t have much of a chance for Colby with Tamara around.”

  Maggie nodded dismally.

  “And my brother won’t have a chance at Tamara with Colby around.”

  Feeling suddenly reckless and honest, Maggie said, “I’d be happy to remove Colby from the field.”

  “You could, you know.” Mabel gave Maggie a careful look. “All dressed up like you are, you could give Tamara some competition.”

  “Ah . . . no . . .”

  “Honestly, you could.” Mabel rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “You and Evan should join forces. Of course you would have to do the lion’s share of manipulation. Men can be so dull regarding romantic matters.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Maggie said. “I’m no good at it, for one thing. I tried when Zack was the minister, and I failed miserably. I’m glad I failed because he and my sister belong together, but still, I know I’m not good at scheming.”

  “I wouldn’t call it scheming. But if opportunities were encouraged for Evan and Tamara to be together and likewise for you and Colby, what is wrong with that? It’s just like giving nature a little push.”

  “How well does your brother know Tamara?” Maggie asked, growing uncomfortable with Mabel’s suggestions, though intrigued at the same time.

  “Her family went to Boston last spring, as did we, for the Harvard graduation. Apparently the Brennans had visited their son in Boston on a few other occasions. Evan had opportunity at these times to socialize with Tamara, because he and Tamara’s brother, being from the same state and all, had become friends. Poor Evan was besotted with her but too shy to do more than bask in her presence.”

  “Did she give him any encouragement?”

  “They were friendly to each other, but she was being courted by a man at home. My brother must not have made a strong enough case for himself, for she became engaged to this other man upon returning to Portland. It didn’t last. I haven’t been able to ferret out the reason, but the engagement was broken off. When Evan found this out, he gave up all his Boston prospects and hurried home.”

  “Does he realize the mothers are trying to match Colby and Tamara?”

  “I’m sure he does, but if you haven’t noticed, Evan isn’t what I would call an aggressive sort. Nor has he the kind of charms that would woo a girl from the likes of Colby.”

  Maggie thought about the clumsy, average-looking fellow who had dumped punch on her dress and had to agree. “I suppose he could use some help.”

  “Do give it some thought, Maggie. You could benefit, as well.”

  Maggie wondered what was in it for Mabel to see these matches succeed but could only discern that she truly wanted to see her brother happy with the woman of his dreams.

  “We best get back to the party,” Maggie added. She wasn’t ready to make a commitment.

  Back in the Parker parlor Maggie kept thinking about her conversation with Mabel and grew more and more intrigued. As they were leaving for the evening, she thought of a way to get to know Evan better and perhaps search him out about these matters.

  “Evan, may I speak with you sometime about a friend of mine who is having some legal problems?” she asked.

  His momentary hesitancy concerned her, but then he replied, “Yes, of course. I could come by your house sometime, if that would be convenient.”

  “Thank you. How about tomorrow?”

  “I have some family obligations, visiting some relatives and such who couldn’t make it tonight. I will be gone several days to Scappoose and Columbia City. Would sometime next week work?”

  “That would be fine.” Maggie tried to hide her impatience with waiting, but she couldn’t very well badger the man. She also remembered that her family had received a letter from Mama’s mother that morning. She would be arriving on Monday, and Maggie shouldn’t make other plans until Grandma had been here at least a day or two. “How about after lunch on Wednesday, then?”

  Giving his spectacles a push up the bridge of his nose, he said, “I will look forward to it.”

  Maggie wondered what she was getting herself into. Could she really maneuver, or as Mabel put it, “give nature a little push,” in this situation? Tamara was obviously not interested in Evan, since she had spent very little time with him all evening. And Evan appeared helpless to rectify the matter. Could Maggie help him? It seemed she had no other choice. Though Tamara hadn’t been with Evan, she had all but monopolized Colby.

  FOUR

  There were other things in life besides husband hunting. Maggie knew that while she had lately been spending an embarrassing amount of time on just that, she’d been putting off something far more important, and now she must rectify the oversight.

  She had to visit Tommy Donnelly in jail. Dad didn’t like the idea. He’d never had a high opinion of Tommy. He only saw that Tommy had picked up many bad habits from his father. Dad couldn’t see, as Maggie did, that Tommy had a good heart and wanted to do right. The fact that he’d returned to Maintown after first fleeing following the death of his father proved his good intentions. Maggie only hoped it didn’t get him hanged.

  Zack mentioned as they were leaving Evan’s party that he had the next day, Saturday, off work at the sawmill. He said it would be a good time to go see Tommy, which they had been talking about doing for some time.

  Maggie told her parents about her plan to visit Tommy when they got home from the party last night. Since Mama supported Maggie’s plan, Dad agreed, as long as she didn’t go alone. She quickly informed them that Zack had agreed to accompany her. She would rather have Zack’s company than her father’s because Zack knew her secret and he was Tommy’s friend. Ellie asked if she could come along.

  “Not because I don’t trust you with my fiancé,” she had added quickly. “I just need some things in town.”

  Maggie laughed. “I was hoping you’d come. It’ll be fun.”

  The next morning, before Zack came, Mama almost wavered in her encouragement of the visit. Tommy’s mother might be Mama’s best friend, but she still didn’t like the idea of Maggie visiting the jail.

  However, when Mama voiced her doubts, Maggie reminded her of Grandma Spooner’s visit in a couple of days and pointed out that the flour bin was getting low. That got Mama thinking of all the other things they would need for Grandma’s stay. Now the trip to town became imperative, for Mama had a long list to fill.

  It had been a long time since they had seen Grandma Spooner. She lived over in Deer Island, practically on the other side of the county. She had said in her letter that she regretted missing Ellie’s quilting bee, and though Ellie’s wedding was months away, she hoped she could help out with preparations for it and for Boyd’s wedding, as well, which was next month. Besides, she wanted to meet Ellie’s fiancé.

  “But she’s already met Zack,” Maggie said. He’d been the minister of Grandma’s church in Deer Island, after all.

  “She knows Reverend Locklin,” Mama said. “N
ow she wants to get to know Zack.”

  Maggie didn’t think there was that much difference between the two, but she knew some folks disagreed. Though most liked Zack as much as they had liked Reverend Locklin, there were still many who thought he had to prove himself. He had, after all, pretended to be a minister, deceiving them for months.

  Grandma added in her letter that she wouldn’t be able to wait for a reply to her letter because her friends, the Busfields, were going to visit their daughter in Bachelor Flat and had offered her a ride, since Maintown was not far away from their daughter’s place. They planned to arrive Monday in the late afternoon.

  Maggie didn’t know why Mama was in such a dither over the visit. Grandma Spooner was not the critical type, unlike Grandmother Newcomb, Dad’s mother. Grandma Spooner wouldn’t care if the house was clean or if the larders were full. Mama was probably just excited.

  Zack came early. Maggie was a little groggy after being out late at the Parkers’ the night before, but she was excited, as well, not so much about seeing Tommy—that made her a bit nervous—but the outing with Zack and Ellie would be fun.

  The morning started off cloudy and chilly. Maggie feared rain might interfere with their plans, but the clouds had dispersed a little by the time Mama fed Zack breakfast. Dad threw a canvas tarp into the back of the buckboard, just in case. At least they could cover their purchases. As for the passengers, well, they were Oregonians and weren’t afraid of a little moisture. There were a few sprinkles during the six-mile drive to St. Helens but not enough to deter their plans.

  Rain was the least of Maggie’s worries as they neared town, and nerves assailed her. Would Tommy hate her for waiting so long to see him? Zack had visited him a few times and tried to assure her that Tommy held nothing against her. What would she say to him? As friends they had fished together, hunted together, swam in the pond, hiked over the countryside. But they had never visited each other. And most of the things they had done never involved much talking. Tommy was, well, rather a simple-minded boy. Most of the kids in school called him far worse than that—dummy, bonehead, moron were among the kinder names. He’d never done well in school, probably couldn’t read beyond the first primer. Same with all the other subjects. Maggie had first befriended him when Mrs. Donnelly had asked her to help him with arithmetic in third grade. He never could get long division or fractions.

  Tommy was not a refined conversationalist. The few times he talked to Maggie about anything of consequence, he complained about his father. Tom Donnelly was a drunken, illtempered layabout. He regularly beat Tommy and ridiculed him. It seemed Tommy could only please his father when he drank with him and shirked responsibilities. No wonder Tommy got such a bad reputation, but he had only been desperately trying to please his father.

  Zack parked the wagon in front of Dolman’s General Store, where Ellie went to begin the shopping. Since she didn’t know Tommy that well and her presence might make him uncomfortable, she’d shop instead. Maggie was glad that Zack had agreed to go with her to the jail. She not only wanted his company during the visit but hoped that his presence would give her courage should the sheriff be there and think to question her.

  Thankfully, only the deputy was present, and he wasn’t interested in asking questions. He led Maggie and Zack back to the cells—he didn’t even bother to search them first! He did take a look under the covered basket Maggie held, and his eyes glinted at the sight of the plump muffins Mama had baked for Tommy.

  Tommy jumped up from where he’d been lying on his cot when he saw his friends.

  “Hey, Maggie, Zack!” he said, clearly thrilled to see them.

  “Now, you remember who brung your friends in when you open that there basket,” the deputy said.

  “What basket?” Tommy asked.

  “Mama made you some muffins.” Maggie held out the basket.

  Tommy grinned. “Thank you very much.” He glanced at the deputy. “Come on back later, Chet, and I’ll give you one. Mrs. Newcomb is the best cook ever, ’sides my mama, that is.”

  The deputy let the visitors into Tommy’s cell and locked the door behind them. With an apologetic shrug he said, “I gotta lock it.” Then he shuffled away.

  The other cells, three in all, were empty. St. Helens was a fairly peaceful town.

  There was one chair in the cell, and this Tommy offered to Maggie, doing his best to be a proper host. He and Zack sat on the cot, which sagged with their weight.

  “Maggie, I am mighty happy to see you,” Tommy said, “but I sure don’t like seein’ a well-brung-up lady like you coming to a place like this. You know, a jailhouse and all.”

  Maggie laughed, relaxing a bit seeing that Tommy was still the same old Tommy. “Whatever gave you the fool idea I was a lady?”

  “ ’Course you are! Ain’t she, Zack?”

  “Yes, she is,” Zack agreed. “But she is also your friend and is concerned about you.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, Tommy.”

  “I didn’t expect it. Like I said, this ain’t no place for a lady, even one who wears overalls.”

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “It ain’t so bad. They feed me real good. The food comes from Welton’s boardinghouse, and that Mrs. Welton is a fine cook.” Tommy scrunched up his face in thought, as though wanting to give a thorough reply. “It’s mostly bein’ cooped up inside that’s hard. And I get fearsome bored. Chet plays checkers and cards with me—he owes me five dollars, but I told him it’s just for fun, and he don’t have to pay me.”

  Maggie imagined how someone with Tommy’s limited interests could be bored absolutely silly in this situation. If she were in jail, she could read and even sew if it got really bad. Everything that interested Tommy was outside.

  “Have they set a date for your trial?” Zack asked.

  “They said the next time the circuit judge comes through.

  He was here last week, but my lawyer still weren’t here from Portland yet, so they had to put it off. I still don’t like my mama spendin’ so much on a fancy city lawyer. But Mr. Cranston has a bad touch of ague and ain’t up to a trial.”

  Mr. Earl Cranston was the only lawyer in the county, and even Maggie knew he wasn’t someone into whose hands you’d want to place your life. He spent too much time in the local saloons, so it was a blessing he was sick. Maggie wondered, however, if there was more to his reluctance to take Tommy’s case. Maybe he didn’t want to fight a losing battle. That worried her. She thought of Evan with his law degree from a fancy school. Maybe he would agree to help, but she decided not to say anything to Tommy, so as not to raise his hopes.

  “Your mother can afford it,” Zack said, “so don’t you worry.”

  “Yeah, ain’t that somethin’? Who’d a thought my pa had stashed away so much cash while we lived like poor folks?” He shook his head, looking bemused, then his eyes hardened. “I ain’t sorry he’s gone.”

  “That may be so, Tommy,” Zack said, lowering his voice and looking to the door that led from the office to the cells, “and no one has a right to blame you for feeling that way. But Chet gets bored and has a habit of eavesdropping, so it might be prudent to not say things like that before your trial.”

  “Prudent?” asked Tommy. “What’s that?”

  “Smart,” explained Maggie. “It means the smart thing is to be careful what you say. Folks who don’t know you like we do might take it wrong.”

  “I should lie, then?”

  “No. Don’t lie about anything,” Zack replied. “But . . .” He glanced at Maggie. Apparently he was perplexed about how to explain the fine line between lying and simply not incriminating oneself. “Look, Tommy,” Zack went on when he saw Maggie couldn’t help him, “don’t talk to anyone about your pa or what happened to him—except to your lawyer when he comes. Mr. Werth will know what to do and who to talk to.”

  “I guess I can do that. I don’t care to talk much about it anyway.”

  Taking that cue, Maggie
launched into a report of Main-town news. She told about the various visitors. Tommy didn’t remember much about Evan, except that he was real smart. Thus, with Zack’s help, she managed to fill the next half hour with conversation. She hated to admit it, but she was relieved when the deputy came in to say their time was up. She hugged Tommy and Zack shook his hand; then they were led back into the office. Maggie wasn’t thrilled to see that the sheriff had returned and was seated at his desk.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hartley,” said Sheriff Haynes. He cast a critical glance at Maggie. “I don’t like to have children come into my jail,” he added sternly.

  “I’m not a child!” exclaimed Maggie, momentarily forgetting her trepidation.

  With more of a voice of reason, Zack added, “I’m sorry, Sheriff, but Maggie is eighteen, not really a child.”

  “Does your father know you have come here?”

  “Yes . . . sir,” Maggie replied, finally remembering her manners and the fact that she didn’t want to give this man any reason to question her further.

  Zack asked, “Sheriff, do you know why Tommy’s lawyer hasn’t come to see him? His mother and I went to Portland two weeks ago to speak with him and hire him.”

  “Haven’t heard a word from him. Our backwater town is probably low on his list of priorities.”

  “Well, it isn’t right that Tommy should languish away in jail waiting on the sluggish wheels of justice. I see no reason why you can’t release him into my custody until the trial starts.”

  “You see no reason, Mr. Hartley?” Haynes’s tone was laced in sarcasm. “Only a few weeks ago, you came very close to getting arrested yourself. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you are no longer the respected circuit preacher.”

  Maggie wanted to rise up in defense of her friend, but as awful as the sheriff ’s words were, they were true. She couldn’t argue against them, but she could offer an alternative.

  “My father could take custody of Tommy,” she said.

  Haynes arched a brow. “Your family is closer to Tommy than I thought.”

  Maggie gulped. Now she was in for it.