Chapter 62: Another Sighting
On Tuesday, November 15, Mac received a letter from William Ladd in Portland. The banker wanted to discuss Mac’s individual participation in the bank and other investment opportunities, even if the McDougalls in Boston weren’t interested. Ladd wanted Mac to meet him in Portland the next day. Mac dashed off a telegram to accept and gave it to a messenger boy to take to the telegraph clerk to send.
Just as Mac settled back into his office to deal with other correspondence, Sheriff Thomas arrived. A cool breeze through the open door alerted Mac to the sheriff’s entrance. He rose and shook the lawman’s hand.
“Your boy came to see me yesterday,” Sheriff Thomas said as he slumped in a chair across from Mac.
“Oh?” Mac was surprised.
“He wants a job.”
“A job? With you?” Mac cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s wise. He’s only seventeen.”
“That’s why I’m here.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair as if he planned to stay awhile. “I wouldn’t hire him without your approval. But I think we should discuss his future.”
“Why should you worry about his future?”
The sheriff shrugged. “Will has the makings of a fine young man, but he don’t have a way to use his smarts and gumption. If you can’t give him a job, maybe I should. Otherwise, he might turn his talents to less savory activities.”
“What would you have him do for you?” Mac asked. He didn’t like the idea of Will working with the sheriff, but he hadn’t found anything else for the boy to do.
“Mostly checking out reports of petty crimes.” The sheriff tapped his steepled fingers against his lips. “Maybe make him a junior deputy. I ain’t given it a lot of thought yet.”
“After his militia experience, I thought of sending him to work with the road surveyors out of Eugene,” Mac said. “But they won’t start again until next spring. Plus, his mother probably won’t countenance his leaving home.”
Sheriff Thomas chuckled. “Mothers can be that way.”
Mac sighed. “I suppose I could assign him something with the P.T. Company.”
“The steamship operation?” The sheriff raised his eyebrows. “Are you a part of that?”
Mac nodded. “I provided some of their financing. Enough that their boat would hire Will on as a dockhand if I asked.”
“That’s rough work,” the lawman commented. “Maybe rougher than looking for thieves in town.”
“Maybe,” Mac agreed. “Give me some time to think about it. And to talk to Jenny and Will.”
“All right.” Sheriff Thomas stood. “There’s another thing I need to tell you. That man Johnson is in the area again. The one who invaded your house last spring. I heard tell he was in Myers Mercantile recently asking about your family.”
Mac stood at that. “What did he say about us?”
The sheriff shrugged. “I didn’t get any details.” He frowned at Mac. “I asked you before—does he have a reason to go after your family?”
“As I said, I killed his father. But that was in self-defense. And it was eighteen years ago.”
“It appears Johnson hasn’t forgotten.” Sheriff Thomas turned to go. “Let me know if you or your family have any trouble with him.”
“I’m going to Portland tomorrow. Will you or Albee ride by our house while I’m away?”
The sheriff nodded.
Mac rode out to the country that afternoon. He had business with both Zeke and Daniel. He went to Zeke’s house first and found the farmer mending leather harnesses in the barn with the help of his younger brothers.
After they concluded their business discussion, Mac took Zeke apart from the other Pershings and asked, “That man I told you about last spring—Jacob Johnson?”
“Yes?” Zeke said.
“The sheriff says he’s back. Have you heard anyone asking questions about me or Jenny or Will?”
Zeke shook his head. “Not a word. What’s he look like again?”
Mac described what Jenny and Will had told him last spring. “Most notable thing about his appearance seems to be a damaged left arm. He doesn’t use that arm much.”
“I’ll keep a lookout.” Then Zeke grinned. “Didn’t you tell me the arm was Jenny’s doing?”
Mac nodded grimly. “She shot him back in Missouri. Maybe that’s why he’s hanging around.”
“Or it could be young Will.” Zeke’s face turned serious. “Johnson might not let up until he’s had it out with the boy. Who might be his son.”
“I hope to hell that’s not it,” Mac said.
He mounted Valiente and rode to Daniel’s claim, where he had a similar conversation with Daniel.
That evening, Jenny listened to Mac describe his conversation with the sheriff about Jacob Johnson. “Johnson might come by here again,” Mac said. “So be careful. I’ll tell Will to stay here also.”
Jenny’s heart raced and her stomach clenched. “Oh, Mac,” she said. “William won’t like that—he feels so confined anyway.” She was afraid of Johnson, but she also worried about Will’s reaction. He was like a caged beast most days, standing at the windows gazing outside and pacing when he thought no one noticed.
“I can’t risk Johnson hurting you or the children, Jenny,” Mac said. “Will’s grown since the spring, and he’s had the militia experience. He’s the best protection I can provide for you, other than myself.”
“Where will you be?” she asked. She felt safer when Mac was home.
“I’ll stay here as much as I can. But I told William Ladd I’d meet him in Portland tomorrow. I’ll leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone two days, and I’ve asked the sheriff to keep an eye on the house. But up here on the cliff, it’ll be hard for him to get here much.”
“Can’t you delay your trip?”
Mac shook his head. “I would if I could. But I failed Ladd before, and I don’t want to do so again.”
That night, Jenny lay awake for a long time. What would happen if Johnson returned? She’d keep a loaded pistol in her pocket, though she hated to with little children around. If anyone was going to shoot Johnson, she wanted it to be her, not William or Maria, and certainly not one of the younger children. The dreadful memory of Maria holding the rifle on Johnson last spring was etched in Jenny’s memory.
As was her long-ago memory of the first time she’d shot the brute.
Will lounged in his room, trying to read, when Mac knocked on the door. “Come in,” Will said, and sat up.
