Elias Wyatt obeyed like a whipped pup.
Lorena's volcanic anger seemed to suck the oxygen from the room to take on a life of its own: “Jesse McCann...what dirty business have you with our attorney? Tell me what you have said and done. Are you hell -bent on ruining us?”
Jesse was quick to respond: “My agreement was with your father and is none of your business whatsoever. But I think you already know. I think you listened in behind the door while pretending to go about your business.”
Lorena slapped Jesse's cheek, the very one which bore the scar from their encounter on the night of the fire. The room grew quiet once more. Mrs. Morgan went breathless and reached for a heart pill.
“You do much more damage with a whip, Lorena,” said Jesse. “Did you forget to bring it today?” At that, Lorena raised her hand to strike him again, but he grabbed her wrist and gave his warning through clenched teeth: “Say another word to Annie... or against Annie...and I'll forget those agreements and release that document...even if it destroys all parties involved...even if we all burn together.”
Upon overhearing this, Annie's chin trembled, and her eyes welled with tears: “Jess, what's all this about? What is it you haven't told me?”
Jesse let go of Lorena to kneel at Annie's side.“ I can not... just yet...tell you everything. I'm asking you to trust me to do what's in your best interest.” Jesse had spoken to Annie quietly and evenly, yet her chin came up as her shoulders squared off. All eyes were on the newly engaged couple who stared intently into each others eyes, as if trying to examine each others souls . With this lull in the storm, a frazzled Mr. Gill reached for his briefcase and delivered his parting words to Jesse:
“Just remember the conditions regarding Annie's inheritance. Mr Morgan was an old fashioned man...in some ways at least. As is sometimes the custom, a husband is placed in charge of a woman's wealth and tends to her investments. That's how he saw it. So remember...the will becomes effective the day you bring a signed marriage certificate to my office.”
After listening intently to the conversation, Lorena's eyes glowed from a newly ignited fire. She was far from finished. The fury she had just directed to others had turned inward to form a cold steely resolve: “If there is really ever a wedding, Mr. Gill,” she whispered.
The meeting had ended, and Jesse and Annie went on their way in silence, each feeling uncertainty and confusion hanging heavily, like a dark cloud between them.
With the maelstrom that had just swirled about them, it was little wonder that Lorena's last words had gone unheard and thus unheeded.
XIX: Wedding Day
Buck Hennessy loudly proclaimed himself to be Jesse's best man, and Jesse conceded that Buck was indeed, always, exactly that. That choice being settled, it was left to Annie to determine who would stand beside her on that day. With all the young women in town, Annie insisted on Minna being her matron of honor; and her grandmother was touched at the thought of being welcome in a church where she was often reviled. That decision seemed to be the only one Annie cared to make, with the exception of one other: the wedding ceremony should be performed by Brother Wyatt. Jesse was unhappy with that idea but gave in without thinking through the ramifications. Annie responded to all other plans with “... whatever you think is best, Granny.” Minna nodded and did as she pleased.
Jesse, however, was disturbed by his prospective bride's lack of involvement in the most important day of their lives. She confused him. Annie was a no-nonsense, straightforward girl on ordinary issues; but now, in matters of great importance, she held her tongue, as if weighing the heaviness of her words. Jesse knew her attitude had to do with his disregard of her need for truth. He had answered her questions, after the feud at the Morgan mansion, in an disingenuous manner: “If you love me, trust me. I will explain when the time is right.”
Even so, by the end of April, Annie became caught up in her special day despite her misgivings. Yet still, at night, when Tahsha sent her lonely call across the woodlands, Annie became restless and went for long walks and disappeared for hours. Had she regressed to the formative years, or was it simply her true nature to run from intimacy? Minna's words came back to haunt Jesse. Part of Annie would always remain unfathomable and free-spirited. Eventually, however, Annie settled down and did what millions of women had done before her: she put aside her concerns for the sake of her man's happiness. She was committed to the idea of marriage and rebuilt that bridge between herself and love, though its support was shaky and its timbers fragile.
On May 1, 1888, the wedding day arrived bright and warm. The jonquils and honeysuckle were in full bloom, and the dogwood's white flowers decorated the roadway leading to the church. The hills were filled with sounds of workers completing the railways; and in the valley, the saw mill hummed with a life of its own. Life seemed good and prosperous and full of hope for the future of the bride and groom and Morgans Bluff.
“Yes sir. A good day for a wedding,” Buck Hennessy said out loud to himself, as he hitched the mules to his wagon to collect and deliver the bride as had been planned. Following the ages old tradition, Minna had forbidden Jesse from seeing Annie until the moment she walked down the aisle. Buck, however, appeared just as Minna buttoned Annie into her white satin gown with embroidered nosegays bordering the neckline. The best man had surprised them both by walking in on a new, modern prosthetic leg that he had ordered just for the occasion. He couldn't wait to show them how well he could do a jig without falling down, and he almost accomplished that feat.
Annie was breathless with laughter, then stood straight and turned slowly, waiting for Buck's reaction to her dress. He didn’t disappoint her: “You remind me of my dear Charlotte on our wedding day. Won't Jesse be happy to see you lookin' like his own little princess.”
“Thank you, Mr Hennessy. Can you believe it's actually happening? Today I'll become Mrs Jesse McCann!”
“Glad you youngsters finally figured it out. It was touch and go for awhile.”
To that, Annie's words came softly: “Maybe I've learned to place my trust where it belongs, and if I ever forget, you can remind me. Nothing can prevent this wedding now!”
Minna caught up Annie's hair and pinned her curls with rosebuds and then checked the length of her gown as she slipped into her shoes. Buck flourished his straw plantation hat and bowed from the waist. “Are you ready, Your Highness? Your wagon awaits.”
“Oh no. I'm sorry, Mr. Hennessy, I can see Granny needs to raise the hem ever so slightly. Go on to the church, and be there for Jesse. I expect he'll be needing your support by now.” She then handed him her bridal bouquet and issued her orders:“Take my flowers with you, as I'll be on horseback...and please...Mr. Hennessy... be careful with them. A girl gets only one bridal bouquet you know.”
“I'll protect this your bouquet with my life,” Buck announced with a flourish of bravado.
Earlier, an hour before the wedding, Annie's father Jared talked Jesse into having just one pre-wedding toast at Percy's. He could see the young man was nervous to the point of distraction. Inside the tavern, everyone seemed to be on an honor system, dropping company tokens into a jar and pouring their libations themselves. Jesse followed suit with his saw mill tokens and poured two glasses of the Muscadine wine. Mr. Percy was nowhere to be seen. When asked about the barkeeper's absence, the old regular lifted his head and muttered: '''Can't rightly say where Percy is...not like him to leave the tavern wide open to a bunch of lumberjack jackals.” Then as if in afterthought: “You'd never guess who sashayed in here just before he left...none other than Lorena Wyatt. Can't believe she lowered herself to come into a saloon. Her and Percy was whisperin' in the back room.” Then the old man winked and raised his eyebrows. “You don’t recon' those two are canoodlin' ...do ya?”
“Are you sure it was Mrs. Wyatt?”Jesse asked.
“It ain’t late enough for me to be that addled, fella. I know who I saw. Percy lit out of here right after she left... like he was on a mission with sweat poppi
ng out on that bald spot...you know...like it does when he's in a stew.”
Jesse felt the blood rush to his head. He turned to Jared with words clipped and urgent: “Sir, get your horse and follow me..now...please!”
“Slow down. We still have time before the wedding,” Jared said. “Mr. Hennessy and Annie would just now be heading to the church.”
“Exactly. I'll explain on the way. Right now...we need to hurry.”
The old man eyed the men's half full glasses as they left and turned up each to empty the contents. “No need to waste good wine,” he mumbled.
Jesse led the way to Dead Man's Creek, the route Buck and Annie would have just taken. The two men reined their horses in hard and short at the sight of the collapsed bridge. They found Buck, unmoving, in the dry creek bed under the bridge which had apparently broken with the weight of his wagon and mules. Buck's head had smashed against a large rock, and his skull had fractured. The mules had long since pulled the remnants of the wagon up to the bank and had taken off toward home.
Annie? What has happened to Annie?
Jared and Jesse rushed down to render aid to an unconscious Buck, and all the while Jesse was calling Annie's name. “Where can she be? Her bouquet is here with Buck! You know he was to deliver her to the church.”
In fact, Annie's wilted and bedraggled bouquet was gripped in Buck's beefy fist. It was the thing he had tried to save before toppling twenty feet down as the beams gave way. It was obvious that the center supports had been sawed just enough to break with weight, without being obvious from above. The timing had been flawless, but Jesse knew it had been Annie someone wanted to delay or stop for good.
Sabotage! They stopped at nothing to interfere with this wedding. There is one who had good reason to stop the wedding. This time it was not Domingo who was her puppet but someone no one would ever suspect. But it's the same evil person pulling the strings behind the curtain. What have they done to Annie? I should have told her everything. I tried to protect her feelings and left her unsuspecting and vulnerable. God forgive me.
Annie's father shook his would-be son-in law to bring him to his senses:“Think. Calm down and think. Listen to me. I've got to get this man to the doctor if he is to make it. I can make a sled from limbs... and whatever else I can find...so I'll bring him into town while you search for Annie. Now go!”
Now Jesse was desperate. Riding in a wide radius from the bridge, he looked all around for clues. Had she been taken by horseback? But all he found were obscured human footprints that ended in a smeared trail of blood. Someone had been incapacitated and dragged away. Beside the trail of blood were the large paw prints of a lone wolf.
Tahsha!
Jesse found nothing more. The blood trail stopped abruptly at the edge of a bluff. Annie was nowhere to be found; and it occurred to him that somehow, some way, God-willing, there might have been a change in plans, and he might find her at the church waiting for him! He prayed that it would be so and pushed Belle as hard as he dared. The big mare responded, sensing his urgency, and they were at the church in record time.
As he reined Belle in, he could hear the babbling of voices beneath organ music through the open doors. His boots hit the ground almost before Belle came to a halt; and he rushed in, barely feeling his feet on the earth beneath him. There, in the vestibule, was Annie, looking like an angel in white. Her brow was lined with worry; her bright gray eyes were filled with unanswered questions. All Jesse could do was grab her up and hold her to him. “Thank God you are here and safe,” he murmured as tears of relief filled his eyes. And the organist began the wedding march for the second time.
“Jess... I've been here all this time. Of course I'm safe. It was you...and Mr. Hennessy... and Papa who had disappeared! And my flowers. I have no flowers!”
Then came a reassuring voice behind them:“This is the best I could do on short notice, Shiwa.
Now let the wedding begin.”
Suddenly there was Jared who had just arrived after delivering Buck to the doctor in town. He brought his daughter wildflowers: daisies and bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush tied with a ribbon. “Mr. Hennessy has been detained... so we must go on without him. Now take my arm, Shiwa...my Little Squirrel.”
Jesse slipped in the side door to stand in the groom's place, and whispers undulated like waves cresting and falling. The groom is here after all. Where is Hennessy? Where is the best man?
Minna lit up at the sight of Jesse and blew him a kiss. The wedding march droned on once more.
Then a collective “ahhh” rose from the guests as each head turned to see the bride who did indeed looked like a princess, just as Buck had said. The guests were stunned to see her on the arm of her long lost half- blood father; and what a unique bouquet she carried. So there was to be a wedding after all. At last, Brother Wyatt stood before them and began the ceremony. His wife Lorena was not present, but then Jesse had not expected her to be. Nor was he surprised at the absence of Mr. Percy who he figured might never be seen again. Now Jesse knew. He knew everything.
The ceremony had begun, and before the repeating of the vows, Annie’s eyes filled with tears of happiness, and Jesse felt his heart beating like a wild bird against its cage.
“If there be any here today, who can show just cause as to why this man and woman may not be joined in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”
At that very moment came a deep booming voice of dissent as a stranger entered the church and pointed at the preacher: “There is just cause, and I order you to stop the wedding...Clinton McCann!”
The guests turned to stare open-mouthed at a scruffy dark eyed man whose face was grim with determination. Mr. Gill, the attorney jumped to his feet. “Who are you, Mister? State your business!”
“Last name is Crane,” said the uninvited guest. “...private detective. San Antonio.”
XX: Inconvenient Truths
Jesse learned a life lesson on the day of his would -be wedding: Someone else holds the master key to that Pandora's Box of Secrets you keep in the closet of conscience. That someone was the detective whom his mother Kate had hired when Jesse was nine years old. It was he she sent to East Texas to prove, once and for all, that Clinton McCann was dead. After all, Mr Baumgartner wouldn't wait on Kate forever. Jesse's mind drifted back to his childhood, back to that day in Mt. Mission in his mother's stuffy parlor. That was the day his mama asked him to read the court papers that declared his father dead. Mr. Crane, the detective from San Antonio, was the man who brought Kate the convenient lie that spurred the judge to grant that decree. It has been said that the truth will set you free; but it was a lie that opened the door to Kate's remarriage.
Now, twelve years later, the detective had shown up to unload a pack of guilt smack-dab in the middle of Jesse and Annie's wedding . Crane pulled no punches about the identity of the clergyman around whom the intricate web been spun: “This man is neither what nor who he claims to be. He is not “Elias Wyatt” and has taken that identity from a dead man. I'll tell you...again... this man's a fraud and therefore can not be an ordained minister. He can not perform this ceremony nor sign the marriage certificate with a false name. This man is none other than a renegade from North Carolina and one time resident of Mt. Mission, Texas. He was still married to Kate Kessler Mc Cann... on the very day he married Lorena Morgan here in Morgans Bluff! They were still married on the day she died. I repeat my initial statement. This man's true name is Clinton McCann.”
Annie's eyes sought Jesse's with a look of disbelief and disappointment, and that look broke Jesse's heart.
“He said the name 'McCann'” Annie whispered. “Brother Wyatt's name is McCann? Is he...”
“He is my father,” Jesse replied out-loud for all to hear.
One of the church elders took Mr. Crane to task: “For what purpose do you intervene... after all these years? What's in it for you?”
“I'm a man on borrowed time, Mister...a man with a vile growth that gnaws my g
ut away...and I have many wrongs to right before I succumb to this disease. Perhaps it's the long hidden lie that ate at me and made me ill. Now the truth's all that's left. Your judgment here today is nothing compared to the hereafter.”
“Get on with it, Mister. Get to the point,” said the elder.
“Alright. A man named Baumgartner, a German from Mt. Mission informed me of his step son's upcoming wedding. He knew the truth about this so -called preacher. You see, both Baumgartner and Preacher paid me...independent of each other... to bring Kate the news of McCann's death...a bald faced lie I brought her...yet the woman had hired me to bring the truth! One man had a purpose to avoid prosecution for horse theft and bigamy...and the other upheld the lie so he could marry Kate. And for me? It was all about the money. But no man pays me today...no man pays me for this inconvenient truth.”
“Is it true Brother?” asked the elder. “Say the word, and we'll send this so called detective packing. Are you indeed Clinton McCann and the father of this young man?”
“I am the man.”
Silence filled the church . The men stared in stunned disbelief, and the women began to cry softly, as the enormity of the lie sunk in.
“...and to think the man is a bigamist...and Lorena's children are all illegitimate!” came the whispered cry “...and to think we have near worshiped an idol with feet of clay.”
The preacher pretended not to hear the mummers of the crowd and remained stone faced behind the fortress of his pulpit. This man was the revered “man of God” who had baptized their children and delivered sermons on deception, among all other sins, for over twenty years. And all the while he hid in a cesspool of lies. So it was that the man who once led a congregation closed his bible for the last time; and with that he set aside his life as “Brother Elias Wyatt.” The curtain had closed on the final act; but the player took no bows.
“What you got to say for yourself, Preacher?” asked a second elder.
Jesse McCann: The Journey (The McCann Family Saga Book 1) Page 10