Always and Forever

by Beverly Jenkins

  “We’re not going to get married, Jackson.”

  “Yes, we are. Do you remember the promise you made to me?”

  She did, but hoped to shimmy out of it. “Jackson, that promise was made under duress and you know it. I’d’ve agreed to anything that night.”

  “We’re getting married, Grace. No child of mine is going to be raised without me.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me.”

  “The child needs a father. We’ll marry, you’ll go back to Chicago, and I’ll come and get you when I’m done in Texas.”

  “You are not going to dictate my future, Jackson Blake.”

  “It’s not your future I’m worried about. It’s the baby’s.”

  Their voices had been rising as they both dug in their heels, and soon they were in the midst of a shouting match that could be heard in St. Louis. Mrs. Trundle came running out.

  “Whatever is the matter?”

  Jackson’s face was hard with anger. “She’s carrying my child but she doesn’t want to get married.”

  Mrs. Trundle’s eyes widened and she put her hands to her mouth.

  “Tell the world, why don’t you?” Grace accused angrily.

  “See if I don’t!”

  The next she knew he was saddling the coal black stallion. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to tell the world. Maybe your aunts and your cousin can put some sense into that hard head of yours.”

  “Don’t you dare wire my aunts!”

  He hoisted himself in the saddle and picked up the reins. “I’ll dare anything I damn well please because you’re carrying my child!”

  He turned the horse and headed it toward the road to Kansas City. Watching him ride away, Grace slapped her hand angrily against the porch post and stomped into the house to await the storm to come.

  In Chicago, Tulip and Dahlia read the message:

  GRACE WITH CHILD. WON’T MARRYME. NEED YOUR HELP. JACKSON BLAKE.

  Tulip looked at her sister. Her sister looked at her and they were both so happy they locked arms and did a high-stepping do-si-do.

  “You know what this means, Dahl?”

  “I sure do, Tulip. Prescott sons!”

  “Amen and hallelujah!”

  “Let’s leave on the first train in the morning.”

  “Let’s start packing.”

  “Do you love her?”

  Jackson looked into the steely gray eyes of Price Atwood. Jackson hadn’t been able to find him in Kansas City so he’d waited until Atwood returned They were now sequestered in Price’s study. “I do, yes.”

  Price hadn’t been happy upon learning the news. In fact he was quite angry. He took his role as one of Grace’s male relatives very seriously. “Have you told her?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she doesn’t love me.”

  “That doesn’t matter. The baby needs your name, and so does she.”

  “Not to her way of thinking.”

  “Then she’ll just have to think again.”

  When Price entered the bedroom he’d given to Grace last night, she was seated in a rocker. Her eyes warned him away, but he came on in anyway. The angry argument that followed filled the house and rattled the freshly washed windows. Downstairs, a simmering Jackson listened and waited.

  When Price stormed from the room, the furious Grace wanted to throw something. How dare these men try and run her life! Neither of them would give her any credit for being able to take care of herself and the baby; all they were concerned about was making her conform to society’s norms. She’d not been raised that way. Granted, were her father still alive, he too would probably be trying to make her marry Jackson so the baby would have a name, but her child did have a name: hers. It was a very fine name, as far as Grace was concerned, and had served the family well since the eighteenth century. She’d no desire to be in a loveless marriage and she didn’t think she or her baby should be doomed to such a fate. In her mind, Jackson would only end up resenting her, no matter what he claimed now, and she’d be the one he’d blame. No, she had no desire to put herself through such turmoil. She would not marry Jackson Blake and she planned to stick to her guns.

  Grace spent the rest of the day in her room, alternately pacing and trying to come up with a solution to her dilemma. If Jackson had really wired the aunts, she expected they’d be in town no later than tomorrow afternoon. She’d no idea where they’d stand on the issue, but if they took Jackson’s side, she would resist them too.

  The aunts arrived late the next evening. Jackson and Price helped them bring in their valises.

  “Where is she?” Dahlia asked, removing her gloves.

  “Upstairs,” Jackson told them. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s barricaded herself in by now.”

  “Angry, is she?”

  “Past angry,” Price responded. “Maybe you and Aunt Tulip can talk some sense into her. Morally—”

  Tulip held up her hand. “Enough, Price. If you’ve been quoting chapter and verse, I’d barricade myself in, too.”

  The aunts then turned to Jackson. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

  “For the sake of the child, yes. It shouldn’t grow up being called a bastard.”

  “We agree.”

  Jackson sighed with relief. He’d no idea which side the aunts would take.

  Tulip said, “She’s going to be even angrier once we’re done. Are you ready to take on a wife who will probably resent you for a very long while?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I am.”

  “Then we’ll talk to her.”

  Grace heard the knock on the door and snarled, “Go away.”

  Dahl snapped. “Open this door, Grace Prescott Atwood.”

  The voice put a smile on Grace’s face for the first time since this war began.

  When she opened the door, both aunts hugged her dearly.

  “How are you, dear?” Tulip asked, after she and Dahlia closed the door and took a seat on the bed.

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “How late are you?”

  “I’m not late at all. Jackson thinks I’m carrying. At this point there’s no proof at all. And even if I am, I’m not marrying him. It isn’t necessary. I can raise a child.”

  “That’s not the issue, dear. The issue is legitimacy. Children can be very cruel. Do you remember how angry you would get when your classmates called you ‘Dot Face’?”

  She did.

  “Imagine being called ‘Bastard’ for the rest of your life.”

  “But Aunt Dahl—”

  “Imagine it, dear. That’s the name your child will wear. It won’t matter that his or her mama is a banker, or that she’s wealthy and smart as a whip. The child will still be ‘Bastard.’”

  Grace quieted.

  Tulip asked, “And suppose the child wants to know why you and her father didn’t marry?”

  “I’ll simply tell her the truth.”

  “What, that you made her a bastard by choice?”

  Grace shot her aunt an angry look.

  “There’s no sense in cutting your eyes at me, missy, it’s you making this choice.”

  “But I don’t want to marry him, and he doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “He does, Grace. Otherwise he wouldn’t’ve wired us for help.”

  “It’s purely out of obligation.”

  “He’s an honorable man, Grace, and that means something.”

  “It means he wants to dictate my life.”

  “It means he doesn’t want his child coming home in tears after being labeled a bastard. We Prescotts can trace our ancestry back to before this nation became a nation. What are his roots, do you know?”

  “Yes, his father was a slave.”

  “Legitimacy means a great deal to those of the race whose families were torn apart.”

  She knew that.

  “And though you may not like it, being with child means doing numerou
s things you might not want to do, that’s why the good Lord put childbearing in the hands of women. Crying babies would be found strewn all over the road if men had that responsibility. They have neither the patience nor the temperament.”

  Grace had to smile at that.

  Tulip’s voice was soft. “Do it for the child, Grace dear. You had your father’s name and your child needs the name of his father, too. And if you find that you’re not carrying, you and Jackson can go your separate ways.”

  Grace could feel the defensive wall she’d built around herself crumbling under the aunts’ even-toned reasoning. Grace sighed tiredly. She knew they were right. It didn’t matter how modern a woman she thought herself to be; society would label her child regardless, and Grace hadn’t considered that part of the balance sheet until now.

  “Well?” Dahlia asked.

  Grace sighed again. “Okay, I’ll marry him, but don’t ask me to like it.”

  The aunts smiled. Their work here was done.

  Chapter 10

  The following evening, Grace tried her best to be cheerful while viewing the brides’ mass wedding at the local AME church, but neither the celebratory air nor the happiness sparkling in the couples’ eyes were enough to lighten her mood. Later on tonight she would be pledging to love Jackson until death too, and she was still adamantly opposed to the idea. It did please her to see the brides so happy, though, and the men looked proud and pleased as well, but she felt as if she had the weight of the world resting upon her shoulders.

  While the brides and their new husbands danced their first waltz, Grace made her way outside, ostensibly to grab a bit of fresh air. She was soon joined by Loreli Winters.

  “You’ve had a fake smile on your face all evening, Grace, what’s the matter?”

  Grace told the truth. “Jackson thinks I may be carrying his child and he’s forcing me to marry him.”

  “Not happy about it, I take it.”

  “No. I don’t like being told what to do.”

  The two women shared silence for a moment, then Loreli spoke. “Could be worse. He could be someone you can’t abide.”

  “But he doesn’t love me, and all I can envision is him resenting me somewhere down the road for giving me his name.”

  “You could be right, but you could be wrong.”

  “No, I’m right. He’s marrying me only because it’s the honorable thing to do.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, I suppose, but I don’t want a husband. My life is fine as it is, and I can raise the baby alone.”

  “The baby should have a name, though.”

  “I know,” Grace conceded. “I know.”

  “Look on the bright side.”

  Grace wished she could. “There is no bright side, Loreli.”

  “Sure there is. He could’ve denied responsibility and left you and the baby high and dry. This way, at least you’ll have someone to help you with those midnight feedings new mothers are always complaining about.”

  “Thanks.”

  Loreli smiled. “Take it from a woman who’s always wanted a steady man and babies. You’re very lucky, Grace, don’t let your pride keep you from finding happiness. Jackson is a good man. The poems alone make him a great catch. You’ll see.”

  Grace cracked sarcastically, “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Setting thoughts of Jackson aside for now, Grace asked, “But what about you? What are your plans?”

  “Tomorrow or the next day I’m hopping a train for California.”

  “None of the men here caught your fancy?”

  She snorted. “Can you see me as a farmer’s wife?”

  Grace said genuinely, “Maybe.”

  She snorted again. “Right. One did ask me, but I turned him down.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “He seemed entirely too serious minded for a woman like me.”

  She quieted a moment as if she were thinking about the man. “Handsome as all get out though. Big shoulders. Taller than Jackson.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider. You did say you wanted a steady man and babies.”

  “Yes, I did and I do, but not him. Men like him want virgins. Once he finds out how ’experienced’ I am, he’ll run for the hills.”

  “You could be right, you could be wrong.”

  “Well, we’ll never know. I’ve already purchased my train ticket.”

  “I’ll miss having you in my life.”

  Loreli’s voice was genuine. “I’ll miss you too, Grace. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

  “You’re very welcome. It was quite the adventure, wasn’t it?”

  “Sure was, but you know what’s been the best part?”

  “No, what?”

  “Seeing Belle. The man she picked doesn’t mind that she’s carrying that cad’s child. It was a love match at first sight. I was so happy when she told me, we were both in tears.”

  Grace had been moved by the sight of Belle and her new husband too. He seemed to be a godsend. “I hope she’ll be very happy.”

  “Me too.”

  The hired musicians were now playing a lively reel and the music floated out of the church and over the night. “Well, I suppose we should go back in before Jackson comes out here to make sure his bride-to-be hasn’t hopped a train and disappeared.”

  Loreli chuckled. “You two will do fine. Just give it some time.”

  “And you should consider that man’s offer.”

  Loreli snorted again. “Let’s change the subject. Did you hear about the Mitchell sisters?”

  Grace nodded. “Trudy told me they were upset because none of the men met their high standards.”

  “That’s the story they spread, but the truth is, they questioned those men so ferociously, the poor fellows fled and no one’s seen them since. Talk is the Mitchells left for Chicago on this morning’s first train.”

  “They shouldn’t’ve left Chicago in the first place, if that’s all they were going to do.”

  “I agree, but with any luck, they’ll never marry and therefore never propagate.”

  Grace laughed. “You are so bad.”

  “I know, now let’s go back inside.”

  At the end of the celebration the brides left with their grooms to share their first night together and Grace and Jackson drove back to Price’s farm. He hadn’t had much to say to her since she’d agreed to marry him and she was content to let things remain that way.

  He said, “Everybody looked happy tonight.”

  “Yes, they did.”

  Jackson knew she was still angry, but he refused to let her have her way on this. The child was as much his as hers and he was determined to be a father. He owed it not only to the child but to his own father who’d raised him with much love. Jackson wanted the opportunity to raise his son or daughter in the same way. “I’ll be leaving for Texas at the end of the week. You can ride back to Chicago with your aunts.”

  “And if you are killed?”

  “Then you’ll be a widow and all your problems will be solved.”

  It was a decidedly cold thing to say; so cold, in fact, they both rode the rest of the way in silence.

  The justice of the peace was waiting for them when they returned. He didn’t have to have second sight to see Jackson’s tight jaw or Grace’s flashing copper eyes. The aunts simply shook their heads at the two young people, then stood beside them in their role as witnesses. There were no smiles and no holding of hands. Jackson and Grace responded to the vows and that was it. When the justice pronounced them man and wife and gave Jackson the traditional permission to kiss the bride, he gave her a chaste peck on her forehead and turned and left the room. The aunts sadly shook their heads again. A furious Grace followed her bridegroom’s example and went up to her room.

  As Grace lay in bed later that night, it came to her that she was not going to let him go to Texas alone. Yes, they were at odds, and yes, his meddling in her life made h
er want to bury him in one of Price’s fields head down, but she loved him, truly loved him. For all her anger and storming around, he was in her soul, and although she knew his feelings for her did not run as deep, she refused to have him shipped back to her in a plain pine box. He’d need her; she could feel it.

  That next morning when she broached the subject of going with him, he told her in no uncertain terms just what he thought of her idea. “No, it’s going to be too dangerous.”

  “I don’t care. I’m going.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  They were at the breakfast table. Price and his bride, the statuesque Tess Dubois, had spent the night at one of the Kansas City hotels and had not returned yet, so Grace, Jackson, and the aunts were enjoying Mrs. Trundle’s morning fare without them.

  Tulip said, “Grace, maybe Jackson is right. You don’t want to endanger the baby.”

  “The baby will be fine. I’m going.”

  His voice was firm. “No, you’re not. This isn’t going to be a walk to church.”

  “I know that, but you insisted on making me your wife, and a wife follows her husband, no matter what.”

  “Not where I’m going.”

  “Well, you don’t have a choice.”

  They were glaring at each other across the table.

  “Why are you so damned hard-headed, Grace?”

  “Because I have you as a husband. So, are we traveling by wagon or train?”

  “You aren’t traveling at all, so eat.”

  Grace’s lip curled as she went back to her plate, but she knew this discussion wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

  After breakfast, while the aunts and Mrs. Trundle looked on from the porch, the brides and their new husbands came by Price’s farm to say their final good-byes. They would be heading back to the Rice County colony tomorrow. With tears in her eyes, Grace gave them all fierce hugs and received strong tear-filled hugs in return. They’d become sisters in the months they’d been together, and as Grace had noted with Katherine Wildhorse, there was no guarantee she’d see any of them ever again.

  Jackson had left for town right after breakfast and so missed the many thanks the women wanted to bestow, but Grace promised to relay them upon his return.