“ I have no defense. I tell the truth now...not out of nobility or morality... but because I am caught in the snare of truth...after all these years...and I am unable to free myself from my own trap. This man... the groom... is my son, and I didn't know of his existence until recently.” Clinton McCann, paused, gripped the podium, and continued his confession: “You see... Kate found out I had been divorced in North Carolina...after I married her. Being a woman of strict religious principals,...she wouldn't have married me had she known. I wanted her more than anything in my life....and so, being a young fool, I never even admitted to my first marriage. When she found that divorce decree, she sent me packing, and I stole her mother's prized horse and came to East Texas. I first changed my identity when I learned a posse was looking to hang me. I continued under the false identity from then on. I could never go back to West Texas and risk hanging...even to seek a divorce... which she would never have granted me any way. Seemed as if Clinton McCann was better off dead to the world. Then she could get on with her life and I with mine.”
Then McCann looked toward the unwed groom whom he had just acknowledged as his son : “If the wedding is to continue, allow the justice of the peace to read your vows and sign your certificate. I'm afraid Mr. Crane is right. There's the question of the legality of your marriage, as well as my unworthiness.”
Annie, whose eyes had never left Jesse's face, spoke softly and firmly: “No...there will be no wedding here today.”
“Stay Annie. We have come this far,” Minna whispered. “Forgive Jesse for not telling you.”
“No Granny. There's more than even this. I feel danger all around me, and I still have only half the truth. I am afraid of no one...but there are others to consider.” That being said, Annie laid her bouquet on the front pew and turned to the only family left to her: “Papa, Granny, may I speak to you out back?”
Jesse watched as they three left through the side door of the church. Everything in him cried out to pull her back to him and never let her out of his sight. But he knew it was not Annie's wishes. So he watched them walk away. Outside their discussion was intense and personal; and inside was a loud and very public uproar that sent Clinton McCann to the street and straight to his buggy. And still Jesse waited in the church while Annie said what she needed to say:
“We can do nothing about this trouble that has rocked this town and this church, and I can't marry Jesse after the secrets he has hidden. But there is much more. Papa, you need to tell me if something bad has happened to Mr. Hennessy. It was this wedding someone meant to stop, and he got caught up in it... didn’t he? Lorena has a hand in this...seeing as how angry she was to be disinherited. I now realize she would do anything to have me out of the way...and at the very least... keep me from fulfilling the will's requirements of marriage. But what of this revelation today? My head is spinning, and nothing seems the way I thought it to be. ”
“You are smart, Daughter,” said Jared. “You will figure it all out. Now look behind you. There is one more matter you need to resolve.”
Suddenly Jesse appeared with arms outstretched in a solicitation for mercy. “Annie, won't you at least talk to me? Don't leave me this way!”
Annie took a deep breath like one preparing to plunge to the depths of the Big Muddy. She said not a word but looked past the man who, an hour ago, would have become her husband.
“I need to pack a few things....and Granny... take care of my animals...until I get back.” Annie then ran toward her horse as her white bridal gown left its trail in the dust. The runaway bride left two standing by helplessly and one running after her.
“Wait, Jess! Let her go for now,” Minna called after him. “Let her come to you!”
And so they three who loved Annie Morgan, watched as she rode off without looking back.
“She's going back to her old home ... somewhere in that deep, dark, piney wilderness,” said Minna in hushed tones. “I always thought this time might come.”
That day full of promise had ended, the day that had begun with best man Buck Hennessy dancing a jig and filling Annie with joyous laughter. The day itself had been a lie. Now Buck fought for his life; and Jesse felt as if his had ended. The wedding guests departed the church crestfallen and unnerved over the revelations. And Mr. Crane, having accomplished what he set out to do, walked down the road toward town. It was time, once more, to collect his fee for services rendered. He chuckled softly to himself and tipped his hat to all who passed.
XXI: A Journey Ends
Annie was gone, and Jesse forced himself to get up every morning and face the day without her. Out of necessity, he placed all thoughts of their future aside and turned his attention to Buck Hennessy, who though he had not been Lorena's target, had been on that sabotaged bridge when it collapsed. Yet Jesse knew who the intended victim had been and why. He knew Mr. Percy had somehow been coerced into developing the details of that devilish deed and carrying it out. For that minor but crucial detail, the hemming of the wedding gown, the bride had stayed behind; fate had played its hand in her favor. But the cruel twist was that the man who seemed more like Jesse's father than his own, lay unconscious in the make- do infirmary behind Doc's office. He was not expected to surface from a deep coma, so Jesse went to pay what he figured might be his last respects. He was ill prepared when he arrived.
Something like a lump of hot coal stuck in his throat when he saw Buck lying there so still and gray. When he squeezed his friend's hand, his eyes fluttered open, as he struggled to speak. Jesse leaned in close to hear Buck's garbled and disjointed words: “They've kilt me, Jess. Dreamed I was climbing up a steep hill in darkness...now I'm slidin' down easy...in the sunshine. See? My Charlotte's there in that valley...yonder...waitin' for me. Don't you fret 'bout Buck.”
Then just as quickly as he had awakened, Buck closed his eyes and spoke no more. Jesse laid his head down on the side of Buck's bed. His body and mind were wracked with sorrow that washed over him like waves building and crashing and building again. He felt like the kid back in Mt. Mission who had dreamed of finding a father he had never known and then finding something far different from what he had yearned for. And beyond that, his mother had died in such an unexpected and cruel way, and he had lost the girl who would have been his wife. Now this. It seemed Jesse McCann was losing everyone and everything that mattered.
At such a somber moment Doc ambled in reeking of alcohol, both medicinal and otherwise, and grabbed Jesse by the arm. “What's wrong with you boy? He isn't gone. He's stubborn as a mule and twice as hardy. Just pray the swelling subsides, though. He's not out of the woods... might near had that hard head split wide open. Now go on and let me take care of him. He may sleep for a very long time.”
Relief washed over Jesse, and the waves of regret ebbed and settled. Hope sprang up and grew: hope that Buck might wake up from his long sleep and hope that Annie might come home. He had lived on hope his entire life. But it had taken a rough saw mill world to teach him what went along side hope...the word was “ grit.”
Weeks and then months passed. Minna confirmed the rumor that Annie was in the native village staying with Jared. There she taught the children reading and writing and tended to the sick and elderly. Minna came to stay in Annie's cottage to keep “things up and care for Annie's critters” until Annie came home. Minna had taken much of the land left to her by Reese Morgan and sold it to the railroad men at an outrageous profit. She had become a woman of means and answered to no one, but then she never had any way. All the same, her standing in the town went from full blood outcast and long ago mistress of a powerful man to prominent citizen. Funny what money could do...no matter from where it came.
As for the life force of the community, the mill was humming night and day with the railroad hauling lumber all the way up to the treeless savannas of the plains. Wood frame houses were springing up where no real trees grew. The mill became ever more prosperous; and the stepped up production brought in many extra hands from all over the South. The
giant circular saw buzzed night and day to keep up with the demand for lumber. New homes were completed in Shanty Town, replacing those burned down the night of the fires. Jesse took comfort in knowing he had helped to bring the reconstruction about the day he struck his deal with Morgan; but the secrets he had agreed to keep surfaced any way, as secrets usually will.
In fulfilling Buck's old job, Jesse was around long enough to learn the full operations of the mill; and before long, he was made General Manager and given the office left vacant by Morgan's death. He received a regular salary as opposed to company scrip and enough of it to finance the building of his own house and enough to live in the comfort he had never known. With the decision to build a house came another ending to the past: he took one last trip west to Mt. Mission and put the home place up from sale, after taking one last walk through his boyhood home. He could no longer feel his mama's presence there until he turned to leave. He would swear forever that on that day he heard Kate's voice carried upon the wind: Go home, Jess. Your home is no longer here. I am with you wherever you are. And so he returned home to a place of beauty, contradiction and upheaval, a place like an untamed and desirable woman. And that place was called East Texas.
With the overseeing of the construction and his duties at the mill, Jesse stayed almost busy enough to dull the constant ache of missing Annie. He never gave up hope that she would allow him to visit her there in the village. Yet his requests, sent through Minna, had gone unanswered. He could not fathom Annie's need to live an isolated life where her prospects were stymied and her future was unclear. In her unmarried state, Annie’s entitlement to half ownership of the mill stood unfulfilled, with the paper work still locked away in Mr. Gill's office. For that reason alone, Jesse hoped someday, for her sake, she returned to find a good husband and collect her birthright even though that husband would not be he.
There were other changes in town. Lorena had finally gone over the edge and was locked away at the state mental hospital. Mrs. Morgan, with her daughter out of sight and her husband in the ground, came through a metamorphosis of sorts. She began dressing up and visiting the grandchildren and even took an interest in the mill. She held charitable galas where she was escorted by the most eligible widowers in Texas. The sickly recluse had stepped from behind the giant shadows cast by her daughter and husband. It was said she even threw out her pills after an amazing re- surge of her health and vitality.
Added to that, Jesse's father, who dropped his alias “Brother Elias Wyatt”, reverted to the name Clint McCann. He was soon to be on trial for bigamy, and it was uncertain whether or not he would be sent to prison or placed on probation. The couple's younger children were taken care of by the older ones with the help of the family cook and housekeeper; and realizing the blood ties of a common father, Jesse looked after them as any big brother should. Two of the citizens of Morgan's Bluff were never seen again. Rumor had it that Domingo had been killed in a brawl over a New Orleans saloon girl and was found in an alley with a knife in his back. Mr. Percy had never been found.
Nor will he ever be, thought Jesse as the picture of a Tahsha's paw prints and a bloody trail came to mind.
Yes, life changed in that rough and tumble saw mill town. It became like an unending kaleidoscope with a fine and narrow lens clicked by the hand of fate. And who knew what combination would come up next. One happy change came when Jesse's house was completed. It was built with the finest product from the mill, with a gabled roof and long wide porch that encircled the entire structure. Before the holidays in 1889, he moved from the Hotel Excelsior and never looked back. He had purposely filled his new home with lace curtains and vases of wildflowers and left his lantern in the window all night long. Everyone knew why, and they shook their heads sadly as they passed by.
One day after coming home from his office, Jesse sat on his front porch as he often did, looking to the hills and meadows beyond and watching and waiting. Upon the horizon came a rider on horseback. As the man came closer to the house, Jesse recognized Jared, sitting tall and lithe , riding without saddle in the native way. Jesse raised his hand in greeting as he approached the porch and stated his business:
“Afternoon, Jess. I was summoned to town because your father asked to see me. Imagine that! I was just curious enough to visit him in jail. He handed me this letter addressed to
Annie...but I wanted you to read it before I take it to her.”
“It's a private matter...I really don't...”.
“Jess...take it and read it. It concerns you as well.”
Inside the envelope was a long legal sheet folded neatly. Jesse's hand shook slightly as he unfolded the message meant for the woman he loved and written by his father whom she had once revered:
My Dear Annie,
Sometimes a man protects a woman from truth, never realizing it is the very thing that keeps her free and safe, or even that it is her right. It is the mistake a man makes when he does not consider the woman's strength and courage. I should know, for it is what I myself did to Jesse's mother, at least in the beginning of our marriage. My intentions were good, but part of it was selfishness as well. A man will do many things to have the woman he loves, including hiding truth. But once I built that web of lies, I had not the strength nor guts to free myself from it, and I lived trapped therein for many years. It was a relief to me that the truth came out. An entire town and congregation got caught in a web of my creation. My regret is that the one I disappointed was the one who believed in me the most...you.
I suspect Jesse has much of his mother's levelheadedness and will not disappoint you again. Do not think, that because he is my son, he is like me. He is his mother's son.
I expect to be locked away for a number of years, and I would feel better knowing I may have helped my son in some way. God knows he deserves something from me. I trust that my other children will be visited by you from time to time, as I leave them under your guidance. If you love Jesse, understand him as a man first, before all else. Go to him, forgive him and marry him. Accept the inheritance that your grandfather left you: your share of the mill. Do not be above accepting your windfall and using it to help others. Above all, do not send my son away from you as his mother did me.
Clinton McCann
Jesse handed the letter back and thought for awhile before speaking: “Take this to her with my blessing... though I expect nothing to come of it...and sir...if you will...give her my love with it.”
“I will. But do remember I am merely the messenger. Annie has a strong sense of independence. 'Til we meet again!”
Another Thanksgiving arrived, and brought with it memories of the one Jesse had spent with Annie. Buck had recovered sufficiently to “ get sprung” as he put it, and came out to spend the day with Minna and Jesse. What a day they three had planned there in Jesse's new home. Minna had a turkey baking in the wood stove, and Buck broke in the new fireplace by building a good roaring fire with wood Jesse had chopped just that morning. Minna got the men out of her way by telling them to go out and chop more wood and promised sweet potato pies in exchange for time to herself. They happily obliged, as the day was a day like none other and so beautiful it broke the heart: air pure and crisp like the first sip of apple cider, and golden rod dotting the meadows with color, and persimmons and pecans falling ripe in the autumn chill . From the woods sprang the does, with their ardent buck suitors close behind; and at the sight of that Buck chuckled impishly. “Now you know how I got my nickname, son.”
Jesse raised his ax and brought it down again and again, feeling his muscles tingle with physical exertion as the pile of firewood grew, while Buck watched in amusement: “You can still handle an ax ...even if you are General Manager of Morgan Mills, by golly” Then the old mill hand turned his eyes to the path leading down from the hill and grew suddenly serious : “Look up, Jess. Look what this day of Thanksgiving has brought. Glory be.”
Jesse let the ax fall one last time, cleaving the wood into. Then he straightened, slowly looked
up, and let the ax fall from his hand. There, riding to him was the one woman he had ever loved, the one he thought he would never see again. Now he saw clearly the face always obscured in those old dreams, the one of the faceless rider who appeared from the woods. Now he knew the rider's name. The sunlight played across her auburn hair turning it fire red, and even from a distance he saw those clear gray eyes seeking his. Annie!
My father's letter has found fertile ground. He has brought her back to me.
As she jumped from her horse, he ran toward her through the tall winter grass on the meadow and she met him half way. She was in his arms mid stride and he crushed her against him, as if he feared he had caught a vision that might, like the old dream, dissolve before his eyes.
“Thank God. You’ve come back. I've missed you so! Never leave me again.” Annie could not speak but could only cry against his shoulder. But he knew. He knew now and forever that she loved him and that she was home to stay. Clinton McCann had done one good deed, one last thing for his first born son. What a splendid Thanksgiving reunion they had that day.
Jesse McCann and Annie Morgan were married on Christmas Eve, 1890 in a simple ceremony conducted by the justice of the peace in front of their new house, now made a home by the presence of a woman. Annie received her inheritance and used much of it to help the poor in Shanty Town in memory of her mother. The Morgan lake-house, left to her by her grandfather, became a summer retreat, and she and Jesse honeymooned there for many glorious days. They two lived in peace and abundance in the security of each others arms. They learned, at long last, what love between a man and a woman should be, and their hearts were filled to overflowing.
A few years later, a little girl with her father's blond curls and her mother's gray eyes plays in the meadow under the watchful eye of her great grandmother. Her name is Hannah Katherine, named for both her grandmothers, whose faces she will never see, but whose blood she carries in her veins. They call the child Katie McCann. As the little girl plays with her puppies under the spreading sycamore tree, she points to the hill where an aged lone wolf watches over her.
Jesse McCann: The Journey (The McCann Family Saga Book 1) Page 11