McKenzie

by Penny Zeller

  “That’s the truth. Wouldn’t that be an utter disgrace if the woman Zach chose was a disagreeable sort?” said Diane.

  “I’m sure that Zach, with the Lord’s help, will choose a woman who not only treats him with respect, but who also treats his help the same way,” said Myrtle.

  “I certainly hope so, y’all. Rosemary is one of the sweetest people I know,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “It’s a shame she couldn’t be here today, with her not feelin’ well and all.”

  “It’s that nasty bug that’s been going around since late fall arrived. My husband said he’s been seeing quite a bit of it in these parts,” Diane added.

  “Well, I say that once we get Zach married off, let’s focus on that ranch hand of his, Jonah, and find a wife for him,” Marie suggested.

  “I do agree with you, Marie. Jonah is such a friendly fellow. I may have to talk him into placing an advertisement in a newspaper,” said Lucille.

  “You might be able to start your own business, at this rate,” said Wilma. “I can see it now: Lucille’s Love Connections.” She pretended to write the words in the air.

  Lucille grinned, adoring the attention. “I might just have to do that, Wilma. If Zach’s union is a success, I may be arranging marriages for the long term.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Figuring that this might be the only day this week he’d be able to make a trip to town, Zach hitched up his horses. The weather was threatening snow, and he wanted to pick up a few supplies before any storms hit.

  As he drove along toward town, he pondered the turn his life was taking. He’d spent much time in prayer seeking God’s guidance and knew that McKenzie’s letter was the only choice. However, since he’d made his decision to pursue McKenzie, he’d put off responding to her letter for several days. Something deep within him had continued to nag at him until he’d relented and decided to proceed with the plan that Lucille had so carefully and confidently outlined. He acknowledged that he needed to respond to the one letter that had intrigued him, the letter he felt God was leading him to choose, even if his letter made McKenzie choose never to respond again.

  It wasn’t that McKenzie’s letter said anything special compared with the others, or that it was unusual in any way. But each time he read the letter, the words jumped out at him, and he could almost hear what he imagined McKenzie’s voice sounded like reading it to him. What’s more, her letter had seemed so gracious, and when he’d prayed about making the right choice, McKenzie’s name had come to his mind every time.

  Three of the letters had been easy to weed out. Dovie’s letter, of course, was absurd. There was another letter like it that he had dismissed. It had resembled Dovie’s so closely that her own sister could have written it. Another letter had demanded that wealth be a part of the matrimonial equation. One letter was too short and provided no personal information, almost as though sending it had been an afterthought for the woman. Of the two remaining letters, one woman was nearing fifty years of age, and the other one was not a Christian. These details had made his choice even easier.

  He may have been rather ignorant about the rules of courtship, but Zach at least knew he needed to purchase some attractive stationery on which to write back to McKenzie. Unfortunately, the only place to purchase such stationery in town was at Granger’s Mercantile, and doing so would invite many questions. Still, Lucille would meet McKenzie one day if she came to Pine Haven to marry Zach. And, if the outcome was a success, Zach would have Lucille to thank for making the suggestion in the first place. Therefore, he knew it was futile to think Lucille would not be involved in just about every step of his mail-order adventure. He figured he might as well purchase the stationery from her and not give it another thought.

  The snow was beginning to fall when Zach reached Granger Mercantile. Winter’s arrival was not far off, and, before long, the harsh weather would make his trips to town less frequent. Zach would venture there on Sundays to attend church, as well as once during the week, if he needed to purchase absolute necessities at the mercantile. He enjoyed his trips to town—they gave him a chance to pray and spend some quiet time with the Lord—so he would welcome spring for more than just the nice weather.

  When Zach reached the mercantile, he climbed down from the wagon, hitched his horses, and entered the store. As usual, Lucille was leaning over the counter, engaged in a deep, private conversation with a customer.

  “Can I help you, Zach?” Fred asked, looking up from the shelf he was dusting. For a moment, Zach was tempted to ask Fred for help in locating some stationery, but he changed his mind. Fred probably knew even less than he did about fancy writing paper.

  “Hi, Fred. I think I’d better ask for Lucille’s help on this one,” he said, reaching forward to shake Fred’s hand. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing well. How about you? I hear you’ve had some responses to your advertisement,” Fred said with a wink.

  “Word travels fast in these parts,” Zach answered. “Yes, I’ve had a few responses. But only one that strikes my interest.”

  “Oh? Are you sure that Lucille has heard that yet? You know how that beautiful bride of mine loves the latest news.”

  “I’m afraid I know all too well about Lucille’s love for sharing information. I feel like I’ve been helping her these past few months in her quest to make sure everyone in Pine Haven is kept current on events.” Zach grinned. “I’m here to ask her opinion about some stationery.”

  “Glad you’re asking her. I’m afraid I don’t know much about things like that.” Fred scratched his head. “Come to think of it, I can’t say I’ve ever written on nice paper.”

  “Did I hear someone say my name?” Lucille asked. Her head was cocked as though she had a special type of sixth sense to let her know that she was being summoned. She finished with her customer, then came out from behind the counter and scuttled over to Fred and Zach.

  “Zach here just needs some of your expertise,” said Fred.

  “Is that so? What can I help you with today, Zach?”

  “I was wondering if you had any fancy stationery so that I could write to one of the women who responded to my advertisement.”

  “I’d heard that you had chosen one of the women! Do tell me about her. What’s her name?” Lucille asked.

  “Now, Lucille, you’ll find out in due time. Right now, I just need some stationery. If she happens to be the one I choose as my bride, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Oh, all right, Zach. I usually have a nose for news and don’t give up quite that easily, but I’ll give you some mercy today. Now, let me see. I have four designs for you to choose from.” Lucille spread the selections on the counter in the shape of a fan.

  “Which one would you recommend?” Zach asked.

  Lucille held her right hand to her heart. “You’re asking my opinion, Zach? I am so flattered.”

  “I figured you’d be knowledgeable about such matters,” said Zach, winking at Fred.

  “As a matter of fact, I am, indeed.” Lucille paused. “I believe that if I was receiving a letter from a man who was courting me via the mail system, I’d most expect to see the pale blue stationery.”

  “Then the pale blue stationery it is,” said Zach.

  “Very well, then. I’ll add that to your bill.” Lucille busied herself with writing the charge down in the appropriate place. “Will that be all for you today?”

  “Rosemary needs five pounds of sugar, too.”

  Lucille fetched the sugar and wrapped both it and the stationery in brown paper, then placed the packages in a burlap sack to protect them from the elements. “Do let me know, Zach, if she writes you again, would you?”

  “I’ll do that. Have a good day, Fred and Lucille.” Zach tipped his hat and headed out the door. He wondered to himself what Lucille would do if she didn’t have the townsfolk of Pine Haven to keep tabs on every day. He figured she’d probably be bored.

  ***

  Zach watched from the
kitchen as his four-year-old son, Davey, carried the brown crocheted blanket from the rocking chair by the fireplace, went out the front door, and began searching the yard for his dog. “Duke!” he called. “Where are ya, boy?”

  The retriever walked slowly around the edge of the house in response to his owner’s voice. “There you are, boy! I’ve been lookin’ for you!” exclaimed Davey. Dropping the blanket on the frozen ground, he ran toward the dog and wrapped his chubby arms around his neck. Then, Davey stepped back to pull a piece of jerky from the pocket of his trousers. “I’ve been savin’ this for you all day.” He giggled as Duke reached up and bit the jerky from his fingers. Duke finished it, then covered Davey with slobbery kisses in appreciation for the special treat. “I like jerky a lot, too, Duke. That’s why me and you, we are the best of friends and always will be.” Duke wagged his tail, as if to confirm Davey’s vow.

  “Now, Duke,” continued Davey, deepening his voice to enhance his authority, “me and you, we got things to do today. See, today, we are in the Pony Express, and we have to deliver the mail. We have to take it all the way from Missouri to Sackermento.” Davey paused and pushed his cowboy hat firmly on his head. “Don’t be afraid none, Duke. I’ve got my gun here in case any bears come after us.” Davey lifted his wooden, toy gun from his makeshift holster. “Now, there ain’t no time to waste, Duke. Pa told me all ’bout the Pony Express and how quick they had to ride for their ’portant job.” Davey bent down and whispered something in Duke’s ear.

  Next, Davey walked over to the brown crocheted blanket. Stooping down to open it to its full size, he spread the blanket on the ground and smoothed away the wrinkles. With determination, he folded it, matching the corners until it was a perfect square. “There we go, Duke. That took some doing, but I think I got it. Reckon I have to get one more thing, and then we’ll be ready. Now, you wait here, Duke, and I’ll be right back.”

  Davey scanned the area, clearly looking for something. Zach saw him run over to one of the large, flat rocks by the side of the barn and attempt to lift it. Clearly, it was too heavy, but Davey wasn’t daunted. That’s my boy, Zach thought.

  Davey came back to where Duke was waiting. “That rock is too heavy, but I have a plan,” he said, stooping to pick up the folded blanket. “Now, you follow me, boy, to that flat rock over yonder.”

  Duke followed Davey to the rock, where Davey positioned Duke just so. Speaking to the dog again, Davey stood on the rock and threw the blanket over the back of his dog.

  Not a good idea. Zach decided to head outside before one of them got hurt. As he approached, he could overhear Davey saying, “Now don’t move, boy; we’re almost done.” Standing on tiptoe on the rock, Davey attempted to climb on to the back of Duke. “Now, don’t be scared none, Duke. You’re gonna be my horse, and I’m gonna be a Pony Express rider!” Davey stretched his short leg up and over the dog until he was sitting on his back.

  “Davey?”

  Davey looked up. “Hey there, Pa,” he said.

  “Davey, what are you doing?”

  “I’m a Pony Express rider, and Duke’s my horse. This blanket here is the saddle. I have a long way to go to deliver that mail, Pa, so you’ll have to ’scuse me now.”

  Zach began to chuckle. There was never a dull moment with Davey. Kneeling down so he was the same height as his son, Zach put his hand on Davey’s shoulder. “Davey, you can’t ride Duke, son.”

  “But why not, Pa? He’s my horse, and I’m a Pony Express rider.”

  “Davey….”

  “Are you worried for me, Pa? Iffin’ you are, don’t be. I got my gun right here in case a bear comes after us. I’ll be just fine. Besides, we got to get the mail to Sackermento before suppertime.”

  “Davey, you could really hurt Duke by putting your weight on him,” said Zach. “Here, I’m going to help you get off now.”

  “But why, Pa?” Davey stood up, and Zach knelt down once again to face him. “Dogs aren’t meant to be horses, Davey,” he said, his voice gentle. “Their backs just aren’t strong enough. I know how much you love Duke, and that you wouldn’t want to hurt him.”

  “But I was just pertendin’,” Davey pouted.

  “I know you were, Davey. But, you see, dogs aren’t meant to be ridden, especially Duke. He’s getting old, and his bones aren’t as strong as they used to be.”

  “How old is he?” Davey asked.

  “He’s about eleven years old by now,” said Zach.

  “But how can I play Pony Express if I don’t have a horse?”

  Zach scratched his head. “Well, Davey, it’s like this,” he began, searching for words. “You can still play Pony Express, just change it a little.”

  “How’s that?” asked Davey.

  “Duke is a special horse in the Pony Express.”

  “A special horse?” asked Davey, his eyes brightening.

  “Yes, a special horse. You see, he doesn’t carry riders. Instead, he carries the mail.”

  “He does?”

  “Yes, he does,” Zach said. “I’ll tell you what. I have a small, leather pouch in the barn. Let’s use that for the mail. I know we can find a couple pieces of paper in the house. We’ll put the papers in the pouch. It will be Duke’s job to carry the pouch. It weighs less than two pounds. We’ll fold it over his back so it stays on, and it’ll be just like the real Pony Express.”

  “Thanks, Pa!” Davey exclaimed.

  Zach smiled. Never in the world would he have wanted to miss out on the child God had so unexpectedly placed in his life and under his care.

  ***

  That night, after the chores had been finished, supper had been eaten, and Davey had been put to bed, Zach sat down to write to McKenzie. He’d pondered the words on his way from Pine Haven so many times that it should have been easy for him to write them on the pale blue paper. Instead, what he wanted to say had become increasingly confused and muddled in his mind, and he sat in the silent room, dark except for the illumination of the candle on his desk, tapping his pencil on the desk and staring at the package of paper. He’d even washed his hands twice to make sure he wouldn’t smudge the fine stationery.

  Worries and questions filled Zach’s mind. What if she didn’t respond? What if she found him to be unintelligent and unworthy of her time? What if she came to Pine Haven and didn’t like him after she met him? What if she didn’t accept Davey? What if she was an unbearable woman who was only posing as a distinguished young lady in her letters? What if she’d lied about herself in her letter? What if…? “Lord, I’m having a hard time with this,” he prayed. “If it’s Your will that I write this letter, would You please help me and give me the words to say? Without Your help, I don’t see how I’ll be able to write it.”

  He sat in the stillness for a while longer before bending his head toward the paper and beginning to write:

  October 28, 1881

  Dear Miss Worthington,

  Thank you for your correspondence. Please, call me Zach.

  Have you ever been to the Montana Territory? Pine Haven is a lot different from Boston. We do have several business establishments for a population of 232. There is a church, a school, a telegraph office, a café, two saloons, a lumberyard, a millinery, a Chinese laundry, a one-page newspaper, a dressmaking shop, a blacksmith, a bank, and a dry goods store.

  It is beautiful here. The good Lord has certainly outdone Himself with the mountains He created, which are within view of the house and are only a few miles away. There are also two rivers and many trees.

  I own a ranch two miles from town. We have cattle, horses, chickens, pigs, and a dog named Duke. Besides my home, there is also a bunkhouse and another house. Sometimes, the work on the ranch is hard and seems never ending. Would this be a problem?

  I look forward to further correspondence with you.

  Sincerely,

  Zach

  When Zach had finished writing, he addressed the envelope before setting down the pencil. With rugged hands more used to drivin
g cattle and planting crops that folding paper, he gently pressed on the folds of the paper once more before placing the letter into the envelope.

  He would mail the letter when he went to town next week. Until then, Zach would do all he could to dismiss the anticipation in his heart at the thought of the woman who might be interested in becoming his wife.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The horses’ hooves clip-clopped on the cobblestone streets as the carriage took McKenzie and her friend, Helen, home from a tea party at the Kirkbride Estate. “That was so much fun!” exclaimed Helen.

  McKenzie giggled. Helen thought every party and ball they attended was fun. Her exuberance was contagious, though never imitated, and, at times, McKenzie found herself wishing she possessed the same vivacious demeanor. Perhaps, then, she would be married by now instead of on the verge of becoming an old maid. As quickly as McKenzie allowed the thought to enter her mind, another thought competed with it. Still, McKenzie reminded herself, you won’t be an old maid for long if a man by the name of Zach Sawyer responds favorably to your letter.

  “I’m going to have to take the long way to your house, Miss Helen,” said Lawrence, the Worthingtons’ driver. “It appears there’s an obstacle up ahead.”

  “That’s fine, Lawrence. We’re having fun discussing the tea party, anyhow,” said Helen.

  While Helen didn’t mind taking the long way to her home, McKenzie’s opinion was quite different. She felt a lump form in her throat at the thought of taking 18th Street instead of Clearmont Avenue to Helen’s house. Taking the alternate route would resurrect old memories that were better left laid to rest. Yes, memories of a broken heart and a friend’s betrayal were better left buried.

  “McKenzie, are you all right?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Helen looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh, McKenzie, I’m sorry. I forgot.” As fun-loving as Helen’s personality was, it was equally matched by heedlessness. “This is the way that takes us past Louis and Pearl’s house, isn’t it?” Helen reached over, put her arm around her friend, and gave her a quick hug. “Let’s just glance the other way when we pass. That way, you won’t be thinking at all about what might have been.”