âYes, Pa?â
âIâve been talking to you. Did you clean out the horse stalls today, like I asked?â
Guilt descended on Will. Heâd meant to do the chore in the late afternoon, but Jonah had come to visit, and heâd forgotten. âNo, Pa.â
âWell, do it now. Itâs dark, so take a lantern.â Pa sounded irritated. âAnd donât burn down the carriage house.â
âYes, Pa.â Now that the spring sun had set, the carriage house would be cold. Heâd have to don a coat and gloves. But the horses needed his attention.
âWhy canât you keep your mind on your responsibilities?â Pa called after him as Will left the room. âLike Cal does.â
That wasnât fair, Will thought. Cal shirked his chores often enough. Though his younger brother was glib enough to finagle his way out of trouble. It simply wasnât fair.
Not for the first time, Will wondered why his parents had named Cal after Pa. Will was the oldest sonâwhy wasnât he named after Pa?
Will had asked Mama one time why theyâd named him William. Sheâd hugged him. âYouâre named after my fatherâWilliam Calhoun. I loved my father, and I wanted to name my first son after him.â
âAnd Pa agreed?â he asked.
A far-away look came over her face as she answered, âYes, he did.â Then sheâd focused on Will again. âAnd so you became William Calhoun McDougall.â
But she named her next sonâCalâafter Pa.
Â
Chapter 9: Another Birthday
Mac was up early on Tuesday, April 5âhis birthday. He dressed silently and crept downstairs so as not to wake Jenny or the children. There, he found Mrs. OâMalley preparing breakfast. He took a slice of ham on a biscuit from her, nodded his thanks, and strode down the hill to his office in town.
He had a meeting scheduled with Daniel Abercrombie this morning to discuss a loan. Daniel said he needed money to tide him over until harvest. Many of the stores in town offered farmers credit on their accounts, but for some reason Daniel wanted a cash loan. Mac was one of the few men in Oregon City willing and able to loan money to farmers.
Mac invested in real estate and kept abreast of which landowners farmed their fields productively and which men were too shiftless to get paying crops to market in the fall. Daniel was a good risk, as well as being a friend. Mac would gladly help Daniel if the manâs plans were viable.
Macâs business had not completely recovered from the floods of 1862. It was expensive to purchase goods during wartime, though his California warehouses should be built and filled soon. Plus, Oregon farmers were now paying Mac back for earlier loans. He could afford to take a chance with Daniel.
Daniel arrived not long after Mac settled in. He rose to shake Danielâs hand. âWhatâs on your mind, Daniel?â he asked.
âI want to build another house on my land,â Daniel said, sitting across from Mac and fidgeting with his hat. âNot large, but big enough for Jonah to start. Iâm thinking of deeding him forty acres with the house.â
âJonah?â Mac was surprised. The boy was only sixteenâsame age as Will, and Will was nowhere near ready to live on his own.
âHeâs done with schoolinâ,â Daniel said. âTruth be told, he ainât gone to class much for the last two years. He prefers farmin.â Heâs as tall as me and almost as heavy. He can plow and reap as well as any man in these parts. And heâs started talkinâ about a wife.â
Mac chuckled. âDoes he have a girl in mind?â
Daniel grinned back at Mac. âQuestion is, does any girl have him in mind? If he has a girl, he ainât told me. But heâs a growinâ lad, and heâll sow some wild oats soon enough. Iâd rather he did so in his own house, rather than under my roof with all my youngâuns.â
âWhat land do you want to deed to him?â Mac asked.
Daniel described a wooded parcel of his land claim with a small creek running through a corner. âWater donât flow there all year round, but a well wouldnât need to be too deep.â
Mac recognized the description. âThatâs a nice piece. Is Jonah aware of your plan?â
Daniel shook his head. âHis birthday is in July. I want the deed ready by then. Iâm startinâ with you. I need funds to have the lumber milled, buy nails and glass, and the like. I wonât start the house until after Jonahâs birthday, but I want the house built between his birthday and harvest time.â
They talked and came to terms. Mac shaved a bit off the interest rate for an old friend like Daniel. âIâll draft the loan document and a deed from you to Jonah dated in July,â Mac said. âMind if I ride out to view the parcel before we sign the loan?â
âOf course not,â Daniel said. He sat back in his chair, then turned the conversation to small talk. âI hear tell more deserters been seen in these parts.â
âAre they causing any trouble?â Mac leaned back and put his feet on his desk, ready to chat.
âNothinâ much. Men camped in fields where they shouldnât be. One man scared a settlerâs wife when he come into their yard while she hung out her wash.â
âYouâve told Esther to be careful, havenât you?â Mac asked.
âOf course. And told her to keep the youngâuns close to home.â Daniel tapped his hat on Macâs desk. âYou best tell young Will to watch himself when he rides out to visit us. Particularly if heâs bringinâ Jenny or Maria. Yâall should be safe enough in town, but the country roads is another story. Some of them deserters are dangerousâwhether they be Yankee or Confederates. If they couldnât make it in the Army, they ainât worth much.â
Later that morning, Mac rode Valiente toward Danielâs claim. He inspected the parcel Daniel wanted to deed to Jonah. It was a handsome giftâa sign Daniel truly treated Jonah as his son. Mac hoped he could ease Willâs path in life as Daniel was planning to do for Jonah. Will hadnât seemed keen on a Harvard education. Maybe Mac should help him invest in a business.
As Mac turned to leave the property, he spied Danielâs father Samuel trotting toward him on his old nag. Mac didnât relish an encounter with the blowhard, but he didnât want to be churlish, so he greeted the older Abercrombie.
âWhatâre you doinâ on Abercrombie land?â the old man demanded.
âI talked to Daniel about a loan this morning, so I came to inspect the collateral.â
âWhyâs my boy need a loan? He ainât said nothinâ to me âbout no loan.â