Jenny drove her buggy to Hannah Pershing’s farmhouse. Hannah had invited her to tea to meet a woman who ran a boarding school in Lafayette, a town across the Willamette River from Oregon City. Both Jenny and Hannah had taught country schools in the past. When Jenny arrived, she was surprised to see Esther Abercrombie there as well. Esther had never taught school and had less education than Jenny and Hannah.

After making introductions, Hannah limped about her kitchen as she served her guests tea and cake. Jenny rose to help her, then they sat at the table with Esther and Mrs. Duniway.

“Abigail and I became acquainted at a Women’s Temperance Society meeting a few months ago,” Hannah explained. “She asked me about my days as a teacher in the country before Zeke and I were married. I told her I took over the school from Jenny, and she requested to meet you. She runs a boarding school for girls.”

Jenny smiled. “My teaching was a matter of necessity,” she said. “I was alone while my husband was in California, and the children needed schooling.”

Mrs. Duniway nodded. “I understand. Due to an unfortunate accident, my husband is an invalid. I must support our family. I taught before we were married, though I have only a year of formal education myself. Still, I have read widely, and I kept the accounts for my husband’s business.”

Jenny wondered how a woman with little education could manage a roomful of children, and she asked Mrs. Duniway about her school.

“I teach only girls,” Mrs. Duniway explained. “I have set aside two rooms in our home to house them, and another room for lessons.”

“What do you teach?” Jenny asked.

Mrs. Duniway listed her classes, and Jenny’s eyebrows rose in appreciation. The woman had developed her lesson plans in some detail. Mrs. Duniway instructed the girls not only in the basics of reading, penmanship, and arithmetic, but also in history and household management.

“Do you have books and other materials?” Jenny asked. “Slates, paper, and the like? Those were in short supply on the frontier when I taught, though that was more than a decade ago. Now there are regular ships from the East.”

“The situation had already improved by the time I took over Jenny’s school in fifty-one,” Hannah said. “My problem was that many of my students were not interested in learning.”

Jenny laughed as she and Hannah shared a glance. “Of course, we taught both boys and girls. And half of the children were Pershings.” As she spoke, she felt Esther bristle beside her—the Pershing students had been Esther’s younger siblings.

“My brothers wanted to farm, not spend their time on book learning,” Esther said. “Our mother had died on the trail, and our father died here in Oregon—”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Abercrombie,” Mrs. Duniway exclaimed. “My mother died on our journey west also.”

“Mine died after birthing my youngest brother,” Esther said, her expression softening as she smiled at Mrs. Duniway.

“And mine of cholera,” said Mrs. Duniway. Jenny remembered Mac’s near-death from that dreadful disease, but she let Esther and Abigail tell their stories of grief along the trail.

From there, the conversation flitted from tales of their pioneer journeys to the need for school sessions that accommodated farm schedules to the weather in Oregon. Jenny concluded Abigail Duniway would do a fine job as a teacher.

“But it would be helpful,” Jenny told Mrs. Duniway, “if you had an assistant. I had Esther’s sister helping me. Rachel took the younger pupils while I worked with the older.”

Hannah nodded. “And my niece Faith often performed the same role for me. She later became a teacher herself.”

Mrs. Duniway shrugged. “I can see the class of an assistant, but it would be a squeeze in my household. Plus, I do not know any young women I would trust. Can you suggest anyone?”

Jenny eyed Esther and almost mentioned Esther’s oldest daughter Cordelia. But with a new baby coming, Esther would need her daughter at home. She smiled at Mrs. Duniway. “We shall think on it and let you know. In the meantime, you might find a girl in Lafayette who suits you.”

After his conversation with Samuel, Mac decided to stop by Zeke Pershing’s claim before returning home. He might as well hear Zeke’s side of the water dispute. He found Zeke sowing corn in a field near his home with his younger brothers.

“It’s as Samuel said,” Zeke told Mac. “The creek changed course during this spring’s run-off. Now it flows through my land, instead of formin’ the border between our claims. I’m willin’ for him to take some of the water, but that’s still my land on both sides of the creek, same as always. It’s twenty acres of prime pasture.”

“Then you’d work with him to divert water from the creek to his land?”

“Don’t see why not,” Zeke said. “Unless he decides to make a mountain out of a molehill. But you know Samuel—that might be his preference.”

Mac shook his head with a grin. Then he remembered his conversation with Daniel. “Did Daniel tell you there are deserters in these parts? He said folks should be careful. And after what happened with Hannah years ago, I wouldn’t want any of your family attacked.” Zeke’s wife Hannah had fended off an intruder on their homestead who was later convicted of killing a man.

Zeke nodded. “I heard. I’ve told Hannah to keep a rifle handy. And not to let Hope or Isaiah out of sight.”

Mac arrived home in late afternoon and went upstairs to wash for supper. Jenny followed him. “Happy birthday, husband,” she said.

He turned to kiss her. “Thank you, wife.”

“What kept you away all day?”

“Business. First with Daniel Abercrombie—I needed to inspect a parcel of his land. Then I ran into his father.”

“Samuel?” She sighed. “And I suppose he chucked a problem in your direction.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mac poured water into the bowl on the washstand, then splashed some on his face and lathered his cheeks with soap. “He has another land dispute with Zeke Pershing.”

“Poor Zeke.” Jenny shook her head. “Will you get dragged into their argument?”

Mac shrugged. “I talked to Zeke—that was my last stop before returning to town. Zeke seems reasonable, so I hope Abercrombie will accept his proposal.”

Jenny settled herself in a chair while Mac took out his razor strop and sharpened his blade. “I visited Hannah today as well,” she said. “I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other on the road.”

“Were you alone?” Mac asked, grimacing at himself in the mirror. More and more gray at his temples each week. He supposed that was to be expected—he was forty-three today.

“It was a women’s meeting,” Jenny said. “No need for Maria or the little ones to be there.”

“There are deserters around.” Maybe he shouldn’t worry, but he did.

“I can take care of myself, Mac.” Jenny sounded offended by his concern.

He changed the subject so as not rile her further. “How are the children behaving?”

Jenny sighed. “The boys were unruly again. Mostly Caleb and Nathan, but Cal dragged William into it.”

“Will is old enough to know better,” Mac said.

“Cal knows exactly how to needle his older brother.” Jenny sounded tired. He glanced at her in the mirror—she’d leaned her head back on the chair and closed her eyes.

“I’ve told Will he should go to Harvard this autumn. I’ve a mind to take him to Boston myself.”

“Oh.”

Surprised at Jenny’s short response, Mac turned to face her. “What is it? You’ve always said I should visit my parents. They’re not getting any younger.”