Jonah was Esther’s brother, not her son. Though Jenny spared her friend that thought, she felt certain she had a greater right to grieve the boys’ departure than Esther did. She wondered whether their friendship could survive this trial.
Jenny spoke little for the remainder of the visit. Hannah and Esther discussed their farms and families. While they talked, Jenny grieved for herself and for Will, and for the loss of innocence they had both suffered at the hands of Jacob Johnson, his father, and her stepfather. Why had the vile felon appeared in Oregon to haunt her? Why couldn’t he have stayed in Missouri?
That evening, Mac listened to Jenny describe her conversation with Esther and Hannah. “Why would Esther accuse William? Why would she say such terrible things about me and about him?” Jenny cried. She sounded as emotional as she had in the days right after Will’s departure.
“She’s hurting also, Jenny,” he said, trying to soothe his wife.
“Yes,” Jenny said. “But to say it’s William’s fault—we don’t know that. Sometimes, I wish Esther would hold her tongue.”
“She’s always been forthright,” Mac said. “More so than she ought to be.” Privately, he thought Esther’s theory was quite possible. Will was distraught after learning of his paternity. And angry after Mac chastised him for kissing Maria. The boy had acted irrationally all year—he might well have initiated the boys’ disappearance.
“You must be careful,” Mac warned Jenny. “We still haven’t located Jacob Johnson. I suspect he’s in the area, maybe even in town.”
“Why can’t he leave us alone?” Jenny moaned. “He’s destroyed my life for the second time. And this time he’s destroyed William and our family as well.”
The next morning, Jenny heard Rufus barking in the entry, then Mrs. O’Malley answered a knock on the front door. Fearing it was Jacob Johnson, Jenny reached for her sewing scissors. When she heard Hannah Pershing’s voice, Jenny gave a sigh of relief and escorted Hannah into the parlor. Then she asked Mrs. O’Malley to bring tea and muffins.
“I’m sorry about Esther’s comments yesterday,” Hannah said after Mrs. O’Malley left the room.
Jenny shrugged. “I was upset, but Mac calmed me down. Our greater worry is Jacob Johnson, not Esther’s inability to curb her tongue.”
Hannah smiled. “I love my sister-in-law dearly, and I know you do as well. But we both know what assault feels like. Unlike Esther, who can be quite outspoken.”
“She worries about Jonah, as I do about William.” Jenny said as Mrs. O’Malley walked in with the tea tray.
Jenny poured a cup for Hannah and handed it to her friend. “How are your children?” Hannah spoke about her daughter Hope and little boy Isaiah. Hope relished her school lessons, and Isaiah caused trouble, just like his Pershing uncles had as boys. “So Hope might be another teacher, as you and your niece Faith were?” Jenny asked.
“That is my dream for her,” Hannah said. “I do not want her to rush into marriage. And what about Maria? Are you still teaching her at home?”
“I haven’t had much time for Maria,” Jenny confessed. “And without William here, she mopes about the house—she misses him as much as I do. She is a great help to me, of course. But sometimes I wish I had not let her quit school.”
“Why did you?” Hannah asked, then sipped her tea.
“She was not treated well by the other girls.” Jenny sighed, remembering Maria’s frequent tears.
“How so?”
“Because of her parentage.”
Hannah looked at Jenny quizzically.
“Her mother was Spanish. And Indian.”
“Ah,” Hannah said with a nod.
“And no one knows who her father was,” Jenny continued. “Though he was probably white. At least, that’s what Mac says.”
Hannah took another sip, then said, “You know the rumors about Mac being her father.”
“He says he isn’t,” Jenny said. “I trust him.”
Hannah sighed. “That’s all you can do.” After a pause, she asked, “What about sending Maria to board with Abigail Duniway? Lafayette might be far enough to give her a new start. I had a letter from Abigail yesterday. She is still looking for a girl to help her.”
Jenny couldn’t let another child leave her. Swallowing hard, Jenny said, “Oh, Hannah, I rely on Maria so much. Her presence at home is a comfort, particularly with Will gone.”
“But what is best for Maria?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know,” Jenny whispered. “I’ll have to think on it.”
Jenny tried to occupy her days with her children. They were all growing so fast. There was Maria’s schooling to worry about. It seemed Cal and Nate needed new trousers and shirts every time she turned around. And she and Maria had let down Lottie’s and Eliza’s skirts twice already this year. Maggie learned new words daily and used them to ask question after question. Jenny was hard-pressed to keep up with the toddler.
But at nights, she often lay awake long after Mac slept. Her scare with the coming child seemed behind her. The baby now kicked and rolled as soon as she laid down for the night, and she couldn’t relax. While Mac snored softly beside her, Jenny’s mind flashed back to her assault in Missouri. And she fretted over William. Where was he? Was he safe? Healthy? She had no way of knowing.
Still, she had a family at home, and they needed her attention. Mac was distressed about something—a business matter, she assumed—but he didn’t talk to her about it.
Mac put on a cheerful face around Jenny and kept his concerns to himself. Jenny didn’t need to know how worried he was about his new investments.
He’d received a letter from Byron Pengra after their discussion in Eugene:
July 8, 1864
Dear Mr. McDougall,
My competitors are moving ahead with other road projects. I need your answer on increasing your investment in the Oregon Central Military Road within two weeks, as I hope to begin the survey shortly thereafter. I must know how much funding is available before I start the construction. . . .
Mac sighed as he read Pengra’s urgent request. He didn’t agree with the Eugene surveyor, but the man had the backing of state leaders and financiers such as William Ladd. Maybe Mac was too cautious. But he didn’t like investing his money when he couldn’t see a path to a profitable return. Could Pengra convince Congress that a railroad into Eugene made more sense than one into Portland or into the Rogue River Valley nearer San Francisco? Mac had his doubts.
And then there were the problems facing the People’s Transportation Company. Mac had recently met with the McCullys, the owners of that steamship enterprise. Asa McCully told him of the cutthroat competition the P.T. Company encountered from the Oregon Steam Navigation Company. “O.S.N. is more established, and can undercut our prices,” McCully said. “If we are to compete, we need funds to outlast their fare war.”
The McCullys wanted to buy another boat to run on the upper Columbia River. If they could expand on the Columbia, competition with O.S.N. would lower shipping costs between the ocean ports of Portland and Astoria and the Willamette River towns. That would benefit both businesses and residents in Oregon City. But should Mac invest more money in the P.T. Company?
He didn’t have the cash to invest in all the opportunities before him, Mac told himself bluntly. He had to finish stocking his warehouses in San Francisco, and until they produced a profit again, he wouldn’t have more cash. He had to choose between competing projects—Pengra’s road and possible railway, Ladd’s bank in Portland, and helping the McCullys’ steamship company.
Frankly, the bank appealed to him most. Lowering the costs of river traffic would be of immediate benefit, more roads were necessary in the near term, and trains were the way of the future. But the bank would allow him to increase his correspondence with his brother in Boston.
He was long overdue to repair his relationships with his family back East. It had not seemed important for most of the years he and Jenny had resided in Oregon. But since Will’s departure, Mac thought more about his own fractured ties with his father.
