Jenny put a piece of steak on Cal’s cheek. Cal whimpered when the meat touched the bruise. Jenny looked at Mac. “We need to talk to Will,” she said.
“I’ll do it,” Mac said.
“You gonna whup him?” Cal asked, his expression brightening.
“We don’t whip children in this family,” Mac replied. “But we also don’t hit each other, and Will should not have hit you.”
Mac climbed the stairs slowly, wondering how to talk to Will. He would have to get the older boy to apologize to Cal. But there was a bigger issue. What were he and Jenny to do with Will? The boy’s anger against Cal was out of place, but there was something more going on in Will’s head, and Mac needed to find out what.
He knocked once, then entered Will’s room. Will lay on his back on his bed, staring at the sloped ceiling above his head. He sat upright when Mac came in.
Mac sat at Will’s desk chair. “Tell me why you hit Cal.”
Will blew out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know.” He paused. “I didn’t mean to hit him.” Will’s jaw jutted out, reminding Mac of Jenny when she turned stubborn. “But he ruined Maria’s horse. The horse I gave her.”
“He shouldn’t have hidden it,” Mac agreed. “It was a silly prank. But he did apologize.”
“So he gets off scot-free?” Will looked defiant.
“You didn’t give your mother and me a chance to punish him. Your fist did the punishing,” Mac said. “What more do you think he should have to do?”
Will stared at the floor. “I don’t know.”
They sat silently for a moment.
“What’s wrong, son?” Mac asked. “You haven’t been happy all year. I know school isn’t suiting you, but you need an education.”
Will shrugged. Then he reached under his bed, pulled out a wrinkled paper, and handed it to Mac. “I failed on the essay.”
“Failed?” Mac was shocked—the boy had written a fine essay. He read the teacher’s comments, then looked at Will. “This man doesn’t know what he’s talking about. A personal story about your experience is a fine theme for an essay.”
“Doesn’t matter to him.” Will sighed. “I want to quit school.”
“Seems you’ve done as much as you can at the academy. After seeing what this man said about your essay, I’d support your wish to leave the school. Though I should talk to your mother before we decide.”
“Thanks, Pa.” Will’s face relaxed.
“Are you ready for Harvard, do you think?” Mac asked.
Will stared at him. “Harvard?”
“We’ve talked before—you know I’d like to send you to Harvard. The college was the making of me, a time to be exposed to great teachers, good fellows as companions. A time for growing up.”
“When do you want me to go?”
“Sometime this summer, perhaps,” Mac said. “The autumn term begins in September. I could take you to Boston, see you settled, and visit my parents and brothers.”
“Just you and me? Not Mama or Cal?”
“We’ll see.” Mac paused, wondering why the boy cared who accompanied him East. “Do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” Will said. “Could I go into business with you?”
Mac nodded. “You could. Or you could farm—I have plenty of land. But those endeavors could wait until after you further your education. You’d learn a lot at Harvard, maybe find a calling of your own, rather than following me. The law—you’d be good at that, better than the bit of scrivening I’ve done.” Mac had obtained a law degree at Harvard, and he wrote some contracts and other legal documents for friends in Oregon. But practicing law had never appealed to him.
Will was silent.
“Think on it, son,” Mac said. “And I expect you to apologize to Cal before you go to bed tonight. To your mother and Maria as well.”
After Pa left, Will sat on his bed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Pa let him off too easy. He should be punished more for hitting Cal. Even if Cal deserved it.
Instead, Pa had given him leave to quit the academy, which is what Will wanted. Though Pa said he should go to college.
Did he want to go to Harvard? He’d been truthful when he told Pa he didn’t know. Boston was so far away. Did Mama and Pa want to get rid of him? He’d been at loose ends this past winter, though he didn’t know why. Nothing suited him. He didn’t understand his own restlessness, so how could anyone else understand? He yearned for something he couldn’t identify, something impossible to find.
The only time he felt happy was with his friend Jonah. Sometimes with Maria—like when she’d smiled at him when he gave her the horse.
He’d have to fix the horse for her. Or make her another one. He could do it, and she’d love the new one.
But it wouldn’t be the same, thanks to Cal.
Will sighed and stood. Time to go apologize to Cal. Even if the little dunderhead didn’t deserve it.
Chapter 8: A Letter from Missouri
