DATE: 16 SEPTEMBER 1864
TO: CALEB MCDOUGALL OREGON CITY
FROM: OWEN MCDOUGALL BOSTON
FATHER DECEASED MOTHER HYSTERICAL ADVISE YOUR ACTIONS
Mac rubbed his forehead, his head spinning with regret. He’d been right that morning—it was too late to forge a relationship with his father. Should he return to support his family? He’d seen his mother hysterical before, and he didn’t care to deal with her in that frame of mind again. Owen was closer to her—let him handle the situation. Mac couldn’t do anything from Oregon, no matter how much remorse he felt.
He would plan a trip to Boston some other time. After Jenny delivered their child. After Will returned home. Perhaps after they’d found Jacob Johnson and dealt with him. If he convinced Will to go to Harvard next year, Mac could accompany him to Boston then.
He sent another telegram, specifying it should be delivered with a black border:
DATE: 16 SEPTEMBER 1864
TO: OWEN MCDOUGALL BOSTON
FROM: CALEB MCDOUGALL OREGON CITY
TELL MOTHER I GRIEVE WITH HER LETTER TO FOLLOW
As soon as she saw Mac’s face that evening, Jenny knew he was in turmoil. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He told her about his father’s passing. “Oh, Mac,” she said, embracing him and resting her head on his solid chest. “I’m so sorry. I wish you’d gone to Boston as soon as you heard he was ill.”
“What’s done is done,” he said, sighing. “I wouldn’t have made it in time to see Father.” He laid his cheek on her hair. “I’m not leaving you now. Not until the baby comes. Not until we get Will home.”
“When will that be?” she murmured, her heart pounding as it did every time she thought of her boy with the militia.
She felt Mac shrug. “Who knows? Probably not more than another couple of months. They’ll return to Fort Klamath before winter, I would think.”
Winter. Now Jenny had a new fear—William could freeze in the Cascades. Those mountains ran right into the Sierra Nevadas, where the Donner party had starved to death so many years ago. She sighed.
“Don’t worry, Jenny,” Mac said, rubbing her back. “If Will isn’t home by the time the baby arrives, I’ll go after him. Once I know you’re well.”
“Caleb is troubled also,” she said. “He told me he and Will had a disagreement before Will left. He said he told Will he hated him. You should talk to Caleb.”
“All right,” Mac said. “Though there’s nothing we can do about it now. They’ll have to make up once Will is home.”
Jenny’s womb tightened again. She’d felt it frequently in recent days, but it was too early for the baby to come. It was only false labor, she was sure.
Chapter 49: A Present for William
Jenny went to bed right after supper, then lay in bed praying. The pains were stronger, more regular. It was too soon—the baby wasn’t due for another month. But the pains continued through the evening until she couldn’t contain her moans.
Mac heard her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the baby,” she whispered. “It’s coming. Now.”
“I’ll get the midwife,” Mac said, already donning his coat. “And call Maria to stay with you while I’m gone.”
Jenny lay groaning and praying. Maria sat by her side. Mac seemed to be gone forever, but then he was back with the midwife.
“Go to bed, Maria,” Mac said. “The midwife and I will be with her.”
“But Mama—” Maria said.
“Go to bed,” Mac said again.
After that, Jenny gave into the pain. Wave after wave of pain. She’d been through this so many times now, how could she forget? But each time it seemed new again.
Pain. More pain. Then more waves, faster and faster.
Now, as with all her births, Mac was beside her, soothing her. “Go away,” she yelled at him in the worst of it, wanting only to be alone. But he stayed.
And throughout the ordeal she moaned, “It’s too soon.” She remembered poor Hattie Tanner and the little girl she’d borne too soon, a baby who never took a breath. Was this baby destined to return to heaven just as quickly? “It’s too soon. Please, God, it’s too soon.”
“Push, Mrs. McDougall,” the midwife ordered. “It’s time.”
She bore down. “It’s too soon.”
