Honey's Grace

by Indiana Wake

  “Trying to belittle you.”

  “Yes, but as it turns out, he’s right.” He took a hold of her chin and tilted her head so that she was looking at him. “Because now that’s exactly what I am, Honey. My father has turned me out and that’s his choice, I don’t blame him for it. It isn’t anybody’s responsibility to fund my dreams but my own, and that’s just what I’m going to have to do.” He closed his eyes and looked as if he had something shattering to say to her. “Honey, as things stand now, I’m not much of a prospect. I’m the new guy at Lowry’s ranch learning the ropes, a man who now lives in a room in a boarding house he can barely afford. A man who will have to spend the next ten or twenty years saving every penny to get to where he’s going. What I’m saying is, things have changed. I’ve got to do this, and I can’t expect to drag you along behind me. It’s not fair to you; you deserve more than this.”

  “Deserve more than what, Marshall? Tell me, who in this world deserves more than a fine man with a good heart? Who in this world deserves more than the greatest love they’ve ever felt? Wherever it is we go in life, whatever route we take, we take it together. That’s what marriage means, Marshall Thornhill. I just love you and that’s that. Good times, bad times, somewhere in the middle, it’s all the same to me. I don’t care if you’re rich or poor, all I care about is spending the rest of my life with you. I love you, Marshall. I love you.” Honey peered into his bright blue eyes and hoped against all hope that she was reaching him.

  She meant every word that she said, knowing in her heart that she couldn’t live without this man. She loved him too much to let him slip through her fingers now. But he said nothing, he stared down at her as if he was a man about to break his own heart.

  “Marshall, please. Why can’t we be a team? Why can’t we work together from the very bottom just like my mama and daddy did? You forget, I already have a job and pay, and we can do this between us. We can save the money we both earn and we can get this ranch together one day. Please, please don’t leave me,” she said and, as tears filled her eyes, she could see that his were shining also, like glassy blue pools.

  “Well then, I guess it’s time for me to go to your father,” he said in the same tone of voice he might have used to announce his first step on the gallows. “And quietly hope that he’s a much more understanding and reasonable man than my father. The truth is, Honey, I wouldn’t blame him if he chased me out of Oregon for even daring to ask.”

  “Not so long ago, I underestimated my parents. Don’t make the same mistake, for they sure will surprise you,” Honey said and threw her arms around his neck, looking at him and waiting for him to kiss her.

  Chapter 18

  “It was a wonderful day, Honey,” Trinity Goodman said for the hundredth time. “I never saw a bride as beautiful as you in all my life.”

  “Mama,” Honey said, feeling pleasantly exhausted by the day.

  It had been a wonderful wedding, well attended by so many of the town, and the Goodmans had laid on a very fine spread for anybody who cared to go back to the house to celebrate.

  The house had been full, with two of the fiddlers who usually played at the barn dance keeping everybody entertained and on the move. It had been a whirlwind in which Honey was certain she had spent time with each and every person who had witnessed her nuptials that day. Her father had laughed and joked that for Honey, it was just like another busy day in the warehouse, a day in which she was determined to have a few minutes conversation with every single person she laid eyes on. Honey had laughed, it was true. She loved being a part of the town, an integral part given her position at her father’s merchant warehouse. She loved that everybody had come to celebrate, had come to wish her well, and she felt that great warmth of community enveloping her and Marshall, willing them to have a long and happy life together.

  The day could only have been improved if Mr. and Mrs. Thornhill had given in and decided to attend. It wouldn’t have changed anything, she knew that. Marshall was determined now to be his own man and, with Honey at his side, he seemed to be relishing the challenge of building up his own world without his father’s help. But still, it would have been nice for him to feel his own family around him, even though he had assured her that it certainly wasn’t anything he’d experienced before and, as such, not something he was likely to miss. Honey, however, wasn’t convinced.

  “Did you have a good day, Marshall?” she asked, joining him at the door as he bid farewell to the last of their guests.

  “The very best day,” he said and stared into her eyes.

  She slid her hand into his and they continued to stand side-by-side at the open door staring out across the small piece of land between the Goodman home and the warehouse. Honey knew she would enjoy every day at work more than ever, knowing that she and her handsome husband had a common goal, something that they were working towards.

  “And it’s going to be the very best life,” Honey said and then turned when she heard her parents coming back into the sitting room.

  “Is that the last of them?” Dillon said and flung himself down into his old armchair with a sigh of relief. “I reckon I’ll sleep for a week.”

  “And me,” Trinity said, sitting down on one of the couches with a little more decorum than her husband. “I thought I’d never get that dress finished in time.”

  “Mama, I’ll keep this dress for the rest of my life. I’ll wrap it in paper and every year I will get it out of its little box, put it on, and remember this wonderful day. Thank you,” she said, smiling her thanks at the parents she loved so much.

  “Yes, thank you both. It was a wonderful day and we would never have managed such a fine celebration without you,” Marshall said genuinely as he closed the door.

  He and Honey sat down side-by-side on one of the other couches, and Honey felt every muscle in her body begin to relax. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, unable to do anything about the big smile on her face. She was a married woman now and married to the only man she would ever love. Life was something to be looked forward to, every bit of it, even the hard work. Honey thought it was amazing how having the right person by your side made all the difference; it made everything right, even the tough things.

  “You’re welcome, Marshall,” Trinity said and stretched. “You’re part of the family now.” She looked sideways at her husband as if giving him a cue of some kind and Honey felt there was something coming; something good and exciting.

  “Yes, you’re family now, Marshall,” Dillon began and sat up a little straighter in his armchair as if he was about to conduct a bit of business.

  “Thank you,” Marshall said again and Honey turned to smile at him.

  “Which is why we have something to tell you, don’t we, Dillon?” Trinity said and began to sound impatient.

  “Yes, all right, sweetheart, I’m getting to that,” Dillon said and began to chuckle. “Just you remember, Marshall, you’ve got years of this,” he said and humorously tilted his head in his wife’s direction. “Like mother like daughter, believe me.”

  “I couldn’t be happier,” Marshall said but chuckled mischievously to play along with his new father-in-law.

  “Anyway,” Trinity said, peering at her husband and raising her eyebrows.

  “Anyway, what your mother is so keen for me to get to is the fact that we have a gift for you, something to celebrate your new life together.”

  “Oh, Daddy, thank you so much,” Honey said and felt her eyes begin to prickle with warm, emotional tears, even though she had no idea what the gift was; it didn’t matter, she would love whatever gift her parents had for them with all her heart.

  “Many years ago, when we first arrived here in Oregon, all ragged and exhausted from The Trail, we had nothing,” Dillon began and Honey, despite having heard the story over and over again in her life, was pleased to hear it again; it was like a warm, familiar blanket. “Your mama and grandma went off to work for Marshall’s grandfather and I set myself
up in lodgings. But I wanted my life to start straight away; The Trail does that to you. Oh, and I wanted to marry Trinity Pruitt so much I couldn’t think straight. Or that was my excuse, anyway, when I entered myself in the bucking bronco competition.” He chuckled and Trinity rolled her eyes. “She was madder than a rattlesnake that day, and rightly so; I could have killed myself. But it was one heck of a purse and that’s the truth. It had gone on and on without anybody winning it. Nobody could tame that horse, until I came along all full of a young man’s pride and confidence. I sure did think twice about it as I threw my leg over that creature’s back and that’s the truth, but it was too late by then.”

  “Mama, you must have been terrified.”

  “I was terrified, but I was furious too, and the fury won out. I could have strangled him.” Trinity was chuckling.

  “Anyway, I somehow managed to cling on for long enough to quieten the horse down and take the purse. Without it, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I had nothing, your mama had nothing; in fact, all we had between us were dreams. But I reckon that’s a good starting place.”

  “It sure is, Daddy,” Honey said sleepily.

  “But I want you both to have the chance that your mama and I had. That’s why I’m going to give you enough to get a small ranch started. That’s your wedding gift from the two of us.”

  Honey was suddenly propelled to her feet by an unknown force. Her hand covered her heart and she stared at her parents open-mouthed; she would never have expected such a thing and she could hardly believe she’d heard her father properly.

  “What did you say, Daddy?” Honey asked, a startled look on her face.

  “We’re going to help you get started, the two of you,” Dillon said and looked at his wife who sat silently, a look of contentment on her face such as only a mother can have.

  “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Goodman.” Marshall was on his feet too, and Dillon was forced to stand so that the two men might shake hands. “I’ll pay you back every dollar of it, sir. As soon as we start turning a profit, I promise.”

  “It’s a gift, Marshall.” Trinity patted the seat beside her for her new son-in-law to sit down. “It will only be enough for a small ranch, and the timber for a small house. So, your profit, when you make it, can be put to good use in buying more land and more livestock. This gift is nothing more than a steppingstone to where you’re both going, that’s all. The real success will be your own making and we both know that the two of you have what it takes to get along in this world. Side-by-side, just like we did.”

  Honey hugged her father tightly, little tears of happiness streaming down her face. She’d had the best day of her life and, as the exhaustion had begun to hit her, she would never have believed that it could have got better still. Her life was really to begin at last; her own home, her handsome husband, and something to work towards. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t get any better than this.

  Epilogue

  “It’s a good turn out again this year,” Trinity Goodman said as she and Dr. Carrie Macey laid yet another white tablecloth over yet another trestle table. “I just hope the weather holds out nice for us.”

  “It should do. The breeze is picking up a little, though. Maybe we should weight down these tablecloths before they fly off.” Carrie immediately set about putting jars of pickles and preserves on the corners of each table. “At least until we set the food out.”

  “I wonder if we should start moving this celebration of ours to September, or August. Folks would still come.”

  “They would, Trinity, but it wouldn’t be the same.”

  “You’re right, it wouldn’t.”

  “What wouldn’t be the same?” John Shepherd, sent by his wife, Josie with the first of many plates of cold meat, wandered over to the two women.

  “If we moved our Trail celebration back into the summer months,” Trinity said.

  “No, Doc’s right, it wouldn’t be the same. It has to be as close to the arrival as possible. Don’t ask me why, I just know it.” John set the plate down and nodded before wandering back to his wife for the next plate to come off the wagon.

  “Bread.” Gavin Swain, another man sent by his wife to bear food, was carrying six solid -looking loaves on a large wooden board. “Anywhere?” He was grinning at the ladies; that seemed to be what husbands did on this day every year.

  “Just down on this one, Gavin,” Carrie said and leaned forward to sniff the bread. “My goodness, Polly sure does know how to make a tasty bread.”

  “And there’s more to come yet.” Gavin grinned again and wandered off.

  As Trinity looked up, she could see Charlotte and Marlon Horton approaching carrying the punch bowls that they always brought with them for the celebration. She could hear a clank and knew that, deep inside the bowls, were the unopened bottles of liquor that would be used to make their yearly Oregon Trail celebration go with a swing.

  “Charlotte, honey, did you bring the fruit too? Or was I supposed to bring it?” Trinity asked and winced.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all here.” Charlotte peered down into the bowl she was carrying before looking up at Trinity. “I think you have enough to do without worrying about fruit, Trinity Goodman.” She giggled.

  “Every year, I worry if we’re going to have enough. It just seems that every year our numbers get added to, don’t they?” Trinity looked all around her at the gathered families, people she had known ever since the wonderful, terrible days of the Oregon Trail. “It seems like only yesterday that it was just a few of us and now look; there’s our children, their husbands and wives, a grandbaby or two. We might need a couple of extra trestle tables next year.”

  “The more the merrier I say.” Carrie said warmly. “I must say, Honey and Marshall look so happy, don’t they? With all our kids getting married, it seems like we always have something to celebrate these days. Who would ever have thought that life would be normal again all those years ago? Certainly not me.”

  “We were all fresh from some loss or other back then, weren’t we? Losses out on The Trail, losses when we got here, and for some, losses before they even left the east for good. Sometimes I think we are a town built on loss.” Despite the melancholy of her words, Trinity was smiling. “Which just goes to show you how strong we all are, how far we’ve all come.”

  “The truth is that anybody who makes it over the Oregon Trail in one piece can make it through anything.” John Shepherd had returned with another plate of cold meat.

  “Never a truer word spoken, John Shepherd. Goodness, Josie must have been busy cooking meat all week.” Trinity laughed when she looked down at the next plate, which was piled high.

  “She did a little baking too— this isn’t over yet,” he said with an exaggerated sigh as he turned to make his way back to his wagon where his wife was busily sorting through food for the celebration.

  “Ah, there’s Daniel,” Carrie said, turning to look over her shoulder to the far end of the field where her husband was walking arm in arm with the aged Jeannie Stanton. “Dear Jeannie, I was worried she wouldn’t make it this year. But she always comes through for us, doesn’t she?”

  “She was a welcome sight when we all first arrived, wasn’t she? I think we all went to that fine woman for advice over the years, men and women alike.” Trinity smiled.

  “My daughter still goes to her.” Polly Swain appeared bearing yet more bread. “I hope she goes on forever.”

  “Sometimes, arriving here, coming down off The Trail, all of it, seems like a lifetime ago. Other times, it’s just like the blink of an eye,” Trinity said, and they all nodded.

  “To this day, when I hear rain in the middle of the night, I always have that little sense of panic that I’m going to get wet. Those old oiled tents were awful, weren’t they?” Carrie laughed. “But we survived, didn’t we?”

  “We sure did. We survived, and now our kids are here, and the West is transformed, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is, Trinity. As
hard as it was, I’ll always be glad we made the journey,” Polly Swain said wistfully. “For all the ups and downs out there in the wilds and here when we first arrived, I don’t think I’d change any of it now. It’s like something that has to be done, something that has to be faced, to get to the good part of life on the other side.”

  “And there’s the good part of life, just look at them all,” Trinity said with a slow, contented smile.

  They turned to look at their assorted children, all of them adults now with their own lives and their own responsibilities.

  Suki and Sonny Reynolds, Joe and Amanda Macey, Katie and Clay Horton, Jenny and Arlon Hurst. But Trinity’s eyes were, quite naturally, drawn to her own daughter. A chip off the old block in everything but appearance, Honey Thornhill was talking up a storm in the middle of the large group of Pioneers’ children. This was their place now, all of them. They belonged to Oregon; they hadn’t walked here; they’d been born here. In Trinity’s heart, this yearly celebration was as much for them as for those who had suffered, lived, and died out there in the heart of America. They were the result, they were the reward for all the back-breaking, heart-wrenching effort.

  When she saw a man she recognized in the gathering crowd, she knew she had to make her way over to where Honey and Marshall were. She hadn’t set eyes on Kirby Thornhill for a very long time, choosing to stay out of his way for year upon year, even now that their children were married.

  He looked a little tired, ageing as they had all done, but there was more; she thought he looked a little sad. Excusing herself from her own chattering group, Trinity surreptitiously made her way over. By the time she arrived, Kirby had already sought out his only son.

  “Marshall?” he said and, despite speaking quietly, Trinity could swear she could still hear the old hint of a commanding tone in that voice.