Jenny laughed. “Cake she understands already.”
“And Maria?” Hannah asked. “Does she feel slighted to play second fiddle to her little sister this weekend? After all, this party is for her also.”
Shaking her head, Jenny said, “Maria never acts slighted about anything. She’s such a docile girl. Grateful for everything. Sometimes I think she doesn’t trust that we are truly her family.”
“But she’s lived with you since she was a baby,” Esther said. “How can she think you aren’t her family?”
“Mac has always made it clear she’s adopted,” Jenny said.
“That’s just to squelch the rumors he’s her father,” Esther said. “You’ve never thought he was, have you?”
“Of course not.” Jenny shook her head. “He told me he wasn’t, and that’s enough for me.”
Mac rubbed his forehead after spending the morning in his town office catching up on correspondence. His investments finally seemed to be on a path to growth. He’d written bank drafts to cover the building expenses in Sacramento. But those costs were offset by income from his mining interests in California and from Oregon farmers repaying the loans he’d made them.
He glanced at his pocket watch. Time to head home for the noon meal. As he left his office, he remembered today was Maggie’s birthday. How had he forgotten? The household had been in an uproar all week with preparations for the party tomorrow afternoon.
And Maria’s birthday came later in the month. He smiled, remembering Maria as an infant. Her mother Consuela, part Spanish and part Indian, had been Mac’s friend in California. She’d been a stubborn and independent woman who returned to whoring soon after Maria’s birth, only to have a customer kill her. On her death bed, Consuela pleaded with Mac to take the baby. So Mac brought Maria home to Jenny to raise. Jenny loved the baby as soon as she saw her, and they’d become a family.
Mac locked up his office and stopped at Myers Mercantile on his way home. He found a cloth doll with a china head for Maggie. While he browsed the store for a gift for Maria, he overheard a small group of men talking as they sat around the stove near the counter.
“Confederate deserters been flocking to Oregon,” one man said.
“They ain’t all Confederates,” another said. “Union men, too.”
“Some ain’t even soldiers, just men looking for a quick fortune in the mines, or easy labor,” said a third.
The first man chortled. “Ain’t nothin’ easy ’bout any labor. Least ways, not any I ever found.”
Mac picked up a roll of lace. A piece of this might do for Maria. “Are the deserters dangerous?” he asked the men.
“No more so than other men with nothin’ to do,” came the reply.
“But most of ’em absconded with their Army weapons,” another said. “So they’s armed. I’d keep an eagle-eye on my farmland and barns if I was you.”
“I live in town,” Mac said. “But I’ll pass on the news to my farming friends.” Many of his guests tomorrow would be farmers, and he’d make sure they were aware of potential intruders.
Chapter 5: A Party for Two Sisters
The party for Maria and Maggie had barely begun, and already Will wanted to leave. There were too many people for him to enjoy the occasion. But his parents had pressed him into greeting guests and taking their wraps. “Why can’t Maria and Cal help?” he asked Mama.
She reached up to pat his shoulder. “It’s Maria’s party, she shouldn’t have to work. Cal can carry the coats upstairs. I need you to man the door.”
Cal was nowhere to be found. After carrying one load of cloaks to the girls’ bedroom, the brat disappeared. So Will grabbed Nate by the collar as he passed through the hall from dining room to parlor. “Stay here,” he ordered. “Help with the coats.”
The younger boy pulled away. “Can’t. I’m taking this plate to old Mrs. Abercrombie.”
Jonah’s grandmother Harriet was a nice old lady but didn’t stray far from her husband Samuel Abercrombie. Samuel was a right old bastard—as Will heard Pa say often enough.
The Abercrombies weren’t really Jonah’s grandparents, but Harriet treated him like a grandson. Samuel mostly ignored Jonah.
At least Jonah had the semblance of grandparents in Oregon. None of Will’s grandparents had come West. Pa’s family all resided in Boston, and Will had never met any of them. He also didn’t know Mama’s family. Mama’s father died when she was only a girl. Will was named after him—William Calhoun. Mama’s mother remarried and lived with her husband and their son in Missouri. Mama didn’t speak of them often, though she and her mother exchanged letters from time to time.
It might be nice to have family around. Particularly a grandfather, if he were nicer than Samuel Abercrombie.
Nate raced back toward the dining room. Will collared him again. “Sorry,” Nate said. “Now Mr. Abercrombie wants some ham.”
Family? Will grumbled to himself. They were more trouble than help. The door knocker sounded, and he greeted the next guests.
After all the company had arrived, Will and his friend Jonah found chairs in the dining room near the laden table. They could keep their plates full of food and hear the conversations flowing around them. “You been goin’ to school?” Jonah asked Will.
Will nodded. “Mama and Pa make me.” His face brightened. “But they say this is my last year at the academy. Don’t know what I’ll do when the term is over.”
“I ain’t goin’ to school no more,” Jonah said. “Daniel wants me workin’ with him on the farm.”
“Does Esther agree?”
“She says if I don’t want no more schoolin’ and Daniel’ll keep me busy, that’s fine by her.”
“Are you going to file your own land claim once you’re old enough?” Will asked. Some of the Pershing men had filed claims, others worked as hired hands. The original Pershing claims were six hundred and forty acres, before the Homestead Act reduced the maximum size of a claim to three hundred twenty acres. Six-forty was enough land to support several families.
Jonah shrugged. “I ain’t decided. I still have several years afore I can. Maybe I’ll prospect for a while first. Like Joel.”
