Jesse McCann: The Journey (The McCann Family Saga Book 1)

by Jeanie Freeman-Harper

  “Thank you, Mr. Morgan,”

  “Don’t thank me, McCann. It's a business deal, not a favor. But do consider taking Buck's position when it comes available. That would be my favor from you...that and your silence.”

  “It doesn't seem right that the penitence was paid by you, seeing as how it was my father who committed the crime. It doesn't feel altogether proper.”

  To his surprise, Morgan chuckled. “You must have inherited your mother's conscience. I assure you my son in law has less than a tomcat. If it eases your mind, that reprobate will pay. He's lost the very thing he has lived the last twenty years of his life for...my money! That's all he saw in my daughter in the first place. They both have alienated me to the point that I've cut them from my will.” Morgan paused for a moment and lit the cigar. “There's another matter. When you see my granddaughter...and I'm sure you will...tell her absolutely nothing about anything.”

  “How did you know about....?”

  “...about you and Annie? I didn’t get where I am without my sources. I have no problem with the idea. She could do much worse. If you marry her, I'll sign over the deed to my lake house as a wedding gift. Mrs. Morgan is bedridden, and we no longer use the place. There's room enough there to raise your children and live out your days in privacy.”

  “I couldn’t accept...”“ You don't understand. It is my gift to my granddaughter, and you have nothing to say about it.”

  “ Alright...assuming she will have me...and... at this point that's a big leap. I'm sure Annie would be pleased with your wedding gift. She has struggled all her life, as you know as the outsider in your family”

  The arrow did not miss its mark. Jesse knew by Morgan's disregard of the comment and his uneasy smile.“Nevertheless, I will dance at my granddaughter’s wedding. Do we still have a deal?”

  “We have a deal.”

  How can I ever tell sweet Annie now? What else can I do but forever live with secrets?

  Jesse walked from Morgan's office with the reality that he had paid far more than Morgan for a resolution that brought no lasting comfort. He had paid with a piece of his soul.

  Yet he blocked the thought from his mind and rode Belle out to Annie's cottage. He had just enough time to think. He would find something to say that would explain his disappearance on the night of the fire, just enough but not everything. He was now deep into the game, and it was all or nothing.

  XVII: A Time to Remember

  Little white lies always seem so harmless, as does the keeping of secrets and the omission of truth. It was so simple for Jesse to explain away his disappearance on the night of the fire. Annie believed what he told her: he had gone to recruit more fire fighters on the other side of Boggy Slough and got lost in the swamp; after all, as Annie knew, unless one grew up in East Texas, it was easy to lose your way in that woodland wilderness where towering pines shut out the moonlight. Jesse decided it was pointless to tell her what really happened that night: the run-in with Domingo and Lorena and Tahsha's life saving intervention. He had even explained away the slash from Lorena's whip as a scrape against a low lying branch; and although Annie did seem skeptical of his explanation of the scar, she did what women who love always do. She chose to believe the man against her better judgment.

  As far as Jesse was concerned, the dust had settled, and why stir it back up? After all, the rumor around town was that the thug Domingo had gone back to New Orleans; and Jesse believed it was from fear of prosecution. For whatever reason, Lorena's henchman was gone, and that was all that mattered. Or so he thought.

  Who will do her devil's work now? Surely there is no one.

  As for the deep secrets surrounding Brother Wyatt, Jesse simply kept them, as was his deal with Reese Morgan. He told himself it had less to do with that agreement than from his desire to spare Annie pain . He had to consider Annie's feelings about her kin and also a minister whom she had relied upon as a father figure and spiritual adviser. She had relied upon Wyatt and upon Minna, since she was taken from the woods as an uncivilized five year old raised by a she-wolf.

  Oh how easy it was to rationalize: You are doing the right thing and the only thing you can do...so that you can live your life in peace. Another voice whispered: Forgive me Mama. I do what I must... just as you did on the day you married a man you did not love.... to give me a better life.

  With the coming of Spring, Jesse continued his courtship in earnest, even as he stepped into Buck Hennessy's role as mill employment and pay officer. His first order of business was to hire, in conjunction with the railroad men, laborers for the laying of the rails. Buck was pleased with the transfer of power and upon his retirement, bought himself a small home by the lake, where, he vowed, “the catfish jump up to meet the hook 'fore you get it baited.” Life hummed happily along with nothing but bright horizons ahead. Added to Jesse's bliss were the easy quiet evenings spent before Annie's fireplace after long hikes, hand in hand, through the rolling hills. And sometimes there, in the shadows, they spotted the lone wolf Tahsha, who watched Annie like a mother watches her child.

  On one such peaceful night, Jesse asked Annie to be his wife. Her eyes were alight with his answer before her words were spoken. Yet she had one condition that seemed uncharacteristic for such an independent and modern girl: “Will you take Granny and me to the native village to see my father...so you can ask him for my hand in marriage?” Of course Jesse agreed. He would have promised her the moon and the stars if only to kiss her lips. And that he did, as well as her eyes and her hands and her fragrant hair. He wanted to declare his undying love and crush her tightly against him, so that she could never leave his side. Yet he knew her. He knew that only with open arms could he hold her at all. It was enough, for now, that she had answered yes.

  “Leave me tonight, so I can think of our future together,” she whispered “... and soon you'll never have to leave again.”

  Jesse felt it had all gone just as he had planned. It had been so simple, so perfect. Those haunting secrets, had they been released from their Pandora's box, would have spoiled the most important and joyful night of their young lives. And so he locked them up and threw away the key.

  When the weather warmed, Jesse kept his promise and took both his fiancee and her grandmother to the secret native village, deep into thickets of land north of Morgans Bluff. Only Minna knew the way. They rode half a day in Buck's wagon to reach that hiding place of renegades from the reservations in Oklahoma, as well as those of mixed blood who chose to follow the native side of their heritage. There were members from the Woodland Tribes of Texas: the Caddo, the Wichita and the Cherokee, working together to create a community of dome shaped grass huts and flat topped wood cabins, according to the traditions of each. The houses were formed in ever widening circles around a smooth savanna, where underbrush was burned away to allow green shoots of grass for deer to graze. Constant fires kept the bears and wolves at bay and served as cooking stations for families. In Jesse's mind, it seemed a little bit of Paradise.

  Jared Morgan came out to greet them. He was a tall, dark -skinned man with hair braided in the Caddo way but wearing the clothes of a Caucasian. The first thing Jesse noticed as Jared approached was that, like Annie, he had inherited the strange gray eyes of Reese Morgan. There could be no question as to his paternity; and therein, lay Lorena's distaste for her half brother. He welcomed them into his home, and what an unusual place it was. There were chairs, a table and a bed carved from the hard wood of a Boise 'D Arc tree and animal hide rugs and bed cover. It was nothing like Jesse had imagined but was comfortable and cozy as any house in town.

  The women sat down behind Jared as he offered Jesse a plug of tobacco and a clay spit pot. Jesse hesitantly accepted, realizing it might be bad manners to refuse.

  “What is your purpose here today, McCann? Have you brought my mother and daughter for a visit?”

  “More than that.” Jesse paused while his words worked their way around the wad of tobacco. “I have come to ask for your
daughter's hand in marriage.”

  “...because you feel it is proper....or because my daughter wishes it?”

  “...because Annie asked me to.”

  “Tell me...what is it about my daughter that makes you love her enough to do this?”

  “Annie is a fine woman with a strong character.”

  “One could say the same of one's mother. What is it that makes you love her in the way that a man loves his woman?”

  “The truth is I can't help myself. When she's near me, I'm happier than I ever thought possible. When she is out of my sight I feel empty... until I see her again.”

  “Would you protect my daughter against anything and anyone who would bring her harm? Would you be honest with her in all things?”

  Jesse choked and spit the tobacco into the pot. How do you answer that one? Have you truly been protective and honest? Do you answer with another lie on top of others?

  When he gained his composure, Jesse's words were deliberate: “I will...to the best of my ability do just that. I promise.”

  Jared turned to the smiling women. “Mother Minna and little Shiwa, you have a wedding to plan...and today, we have a celebration to prepare.” The women squealed with delight.

  And what a perfect day it was. The entire village turned out and wished the couple well. Pots of deer stew and fry bread bubbled, the men sat smoking rabbit tobacco and telling bawdy stories in their native languages, while the women danced around the campfires. Annie sat cross-legged, shoulder to shoulder with Jesse, content to also be in the presence of her long estranged father. Now Jesse understood her purpose.

  “What was it your father called you?” Jesse whispered in her ear.

  “Little Shiwa...little squirrel in Caddo.”

  Jesse could not contain his laughter.

  “Don't underestimate the squirrel, Jesse McCann. The squirrel is smart and resourceful and looks ahead. It is not such a bad thing to be Shiwa!”

  Jesse laughed again and hugged her to him. It was then that he gave her a ring, one he had ordered from the catalog at the Mercantile weeks before. Annie caught her breath and held out her hand to examine the solitary little diamond, whose clarity gave it the sparkle of a star caught up in firelight. “We must always be just this happy... forever,” she whispered.

  The next day, the celebration ended. They made the trip back and basked in that once in a lifetime, golden euphoria created by first love. All the misery and unhappiness of the past year dissolved like dandelions blown by the wind. Jesse felt reborn.

  If only it could always be this way

  It was then, upon entering town, that they learned Reese Morgan had dropped dead of a heart attack.

  XVIII: A Last Will and Testament

  The day after the betrothal feast in the village of the native renegades, Jesse and Annie and Granny Minna returned to a town whose citizens were in shock. The Morgans Bluff Gazette ran the afternoon's headline on its front page: “Reese Morgan, Member of Town's First Pioneer Family and Founder of Saw Mill Empire, Found Dead Today”.

  Morgan's heart stopped on the day he crafted a new will formalized by the town notary. The document had been sealed until after the funeral which was attended by railroad people, business investors, mill workers, loggers, and a few state legislators. On that day, Annie was inconsolable over the sudden loss of her grandfather, and she wanted Jesse by her side every moment. Granny Minna seemed introspective, as if she relived the days when she and Reese Morgan had defied society with the romance that ended with the birth of their son Jared. If the State of Texas respected the business man, it was perhaps Minnie and Annie who loved him.

  Percy's Tavern was abuzz with speculations about the altered will and who would benefit. There was much at stake now especially with the lumber industry boom and the arrival of the railroad, which would allow speedy shipment everywhere. Millions more were involved; and no one would know anything until the unsealing and reading of that document which Morgan had rewritten just hours before his death. The event was set for the day after Morgan's burial. Mr. Gill, the family and company attorney, gave invitations to the named heirs and even requested that Jesse be present.

  “What have I to do with family matters?” Jesse asked.

  “It was Mr. Morgan's wishes that you be there. I see by the ring on Miss Morgan's finger that his expectation of your marriage to his granddaughter are soon coming to pass. You are involved whether you like it or not. Four o'clock sharp at the Morgan estate.”

  If the Wyatt home was gracious, the Morgan home was grand. The rambling main house was an antebellum plantation, a style rarely seen in that part of the state, where shot gun houses and tar paper shacks were more the norm. Located on the outskirts of town, the home sat within a compound that included guest and carriage houses, spacious manicured grounds, and centuries old spreading oaks that lined the drive.

  Once inside, the heirs were invited to the upstairs sitting room where Mrs. Morgan sat propped against pillows with medicine bottles upon a nearby table. It was the first time Jesse had seen the woman, and he was stunned by her appearance. Long a recluse, she reminded him of a frightened bird, she with her bony skeleton, wispy fuzz atop an oversized head, and immense protruding eyes. If she had once been a beauty, as some said, she had been robbed of all traces by illness and an infirmity of both mind and spirit. Even her voice lacked a depth of normal timbre and came out in a whispered squawk :“Get on with it Mr. Gill. I am unable to sit more than an hour at a time, and I wish to return to my bed.”

  Honoring her request, the attorney sat down at a writing desk and opened a folder containing Reese Morgan's last will and testament. Before him sat Lorena, Brother Wyatt, their children, and Annie and Jesse. Conspicuously missing was Minna and Jared, but no one had expected them to come. The family cook had often repeated Mrs Morgan's vow never to allow the “Caddo concubine and her half blood bastard” in her house. Nor did the Morgan matriarch want Annie included; yet Mr. Gill had invited her any way, in respect for his client's regard for all of his grandchildren.

  The first part of the will included no change. Mrs. Morgan was entitled to ownership of current money accounts, the house, and half interest in Morgan Mills, as was the agreement before marriage. The Wyatt grandchildren, all seven listed by name, were set up with protected banking accounts for their personal needs, and trust funds to be awarded upon their twenty-fifth birthdays. Morgan's tract of two hundred wooded wilderness acres were left, as stated in the will: to the woman known as Minna and my son Jared Morgan, so that they can live out their days in peace.

  At last Mr. Gill paused, adjusted his eyeglasses and finished reading Reese Morgan's final words:

  I hereby leave nothing to my daughter Lorena Morgan Wyatt, for reasons surely known to her. Out of concern for my grandchildren, I will allow her and her husband to continue to live in the house on Main Street, which remains in my name. My daughter shall not receive proceeds from, nor shares to Morgan Mills nor any other interests. Knowing her mother as I do, she will be able to rely upon her charity when in need, but she will inherit not one penny from me. Should my daughter file a protest, the house on Main Street shall be sold on that day and the profit placed in her children's trust funds.

  The remaining half ownership of Morgan Mills and the vacation house by Piney Lake, I leave to my granddaughter Annie Morgan, who has worked her entire life with little assistance from me or anyone and who has devoted herself to the ill and poverty-stricken. It is she of whom I am most proud. The conditions of Annie Morgan's inheritance are that she be married, so as to have a proper guardian of her affairs and protector of her person.

  Mr. Gill laid down the papers, and dead quiet settled over the room.

  Suddenly Lorena emitted a shriek and lunged forward to snatch the will from Mr Gill who blanched ghost white: “I do not believe you! My father would never disown me! You are mistaken!” Clutching the document in trembling hands, Lorena read hastily and then ripped it to shreds and let it fall to the
floor. She then whirled around to point at Annie: “I will not have her, of all people, take my birthright, do you understand? This is a fake... a forgery... by persons who wish to exclude me.... out of jealousy...sheer jealousy. It will not happen. Do you hear me?”

  Annie sat with head bowed and then slowly looked up and spoke calmly and softly: “Aunt Lorena, I have never heard you speak in such a hateful way. I hate see you this distraught. I'll forfeit my inheritance... if it is possible. After all, I've had little all my life. I'm not used to wealth or privilege, and I am...in some ways...the outsider still.”

  Mr. Gill was quick to respond: “No, Miss Annie. You have a duty to carry out your grandfather's wishes. You must accept your inheritance.” He then pulled himself up to full height and faced Lorena. “Mrs. Wyatt, I have known you since you were a toddler creeping about on in this big old house and pulling fits when you didn't get your way. You haven't changed. You were a disturbed child, and you are obviously a deranged woman. My business here is finished, and just so you know, I have an extra copy of the will locked in my office safe.” Then turning to the others: “You may each visit my office to expedite matters...at your convenience...and one more thing. Jesse McCann, if you need that sealed document unsealed, I'll be more than happy to see it published on the front page of the Morgans Bluff Gazette.”

  At that announcement, Lorena turned to her mother: “Did you hear what he said? Say something for once in your life! Don't just sit there, you mealy-mouthed old crow!” Now beyond control, Lorena began to shake her mother, whose eyes rolled in stark terror . The younger Wyatt children screamed and then cried. “Papa don't let Mama hurt Granny!” pleaded one of the smaller girls.

  “Lorena..please...you're upsetting the children,” whined Brother Wyatt as he loosened his collar .

  “Shut up, you lying, horse-thieving bigamist. Get out of my sight and take the children home.”