Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters)

by Lena Dooley Nelson

  That was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted something easy, to be able to rush right out and find them. But it wasn’t going to happen that way. Why, God?

  Georgia came toward her. “Remember me telling you that I thought I saw you in Portland one day? How the woman had the same color hair, the same walk. Maybe she’s somewhere there, but it probably would be impossible to find her. Portland is a large city, and she might live in another place altogether and was only visiting there.”

  Maggie realized what she said was true, but someday, somehow, she was going to find her sisters. “What about the other one?”

  Daddy stood and clasped his hands behind him. “The last time I saw Catherine Lenora, Angus had her cradled against his chest as they left Oregon City. He had been headed toward the gold fields in California, but that was long ago. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack trying to find them. I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  “Mary Lenora, Catherine Lenora, Margaret Lenora. Did our father name us before he gave us away?” And all our middle names are Lenora? That felt like even more of a connection.

  Mother gripped the hanky in one fist. “He insisted on the names. Your grandparents couldn’t agree on a name for their daughter, so they gave her all the ones they considered— Catherine, Margaret, Mary, Lenora. Angus wanted the names to tie you to your mother. And we agreed. I would have agreed to anything to keep you. I’d been cradling you to my chest and talking to you when Angus and Joshua came to give me the good news. I already knew I didn’t want to let you go.”

  Her mother had already loved her before she adopted her. This new insight was a balm to Maggie’s spirit.

  “So Angus kept one of my sisters. I saw on the adoption paper where he promised he wouldn’t ever try to contact me again. Why would he do that?” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

  Daddy came and gathered her into his arms. “He was so overwhelmed. I think he didn’t want us to be afraid that he would come take you back from us. That would be a really hard thing to do, and I admire his strength in thinking about your good above his own wishes. He knew we would take care of you and love you with all our hearts.” His kiss landed on the top of her head.

  After a few minutes of silence, Mother got up. “This has been an emotionally draining evening. Maybe it should draw to a close.”

  Daddy gave Maggie a squeeze, then went to accompany Mother upstairs. Mother stopped on the first step and smiled back at Maggie. “I’ve always loved you and considered you a gift straight from God’s heart.” Then they continued up the steps.

  Maggie looked at Georgia. “I can’t believe I have two sisters.”

  “I know.” Georgia took her arm. “We should retire as well. You’ve had a long day.”

  Halfway up the staircase, Maggie stopped. “Right now, my thoughts are muddled, but I meant what I said about finding my sisters.”

  Georgia nodded. “I know you did. Maybe when the time comes, I’ll help you.”

  “I know you would, and I appreciate that.” She continued up the stairs. She might be heading to bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. Plans and dreams of finding her sisters would keep her awake—all night.

  Chapter 23

  Charles easily slipped back into the work at the new Caine Stanton Emporium and Fine Furniture store. Despite his worries, Joshua had done an excellent job of finishing the remodeling. Already everything in the store was in place, with areas that transitioned between the different departments. Tomorrow, Florence Caine would come to the store to help them plan their grand opening.

  Since returning from the train trip three days ago, Charles had chosen to walk from the store all the way home. After having spent so much time in the railway cars, he enjoyed the physical exercise. And it gave him time to think about things. For several days he had tried to concentrate on the store. Of course, two things kept intruding on his other thoughts. On this Friday walk, he allowed them to flood his mind.

  First was Joshua. The news that the man had not only adopted Maggie but also withheld that information from his own daughter had shaken his view of his new business partner. If he could lie to and deceive his own daughter, how could Charles be sure that he could trust him? His father and grandfather had always prided themselves on their honesty and integrity. Would Charles have entered into this partnership if he had known of Joshua’s deceit? He doubted it. But the papers were signed, and for now he had no recourse. And he had to admit that the success of the renovations scored a point in Joshua’s favor.

  Second was Maggie herself. He recalled that sketch Maggie had made of him. When he first laid eyes on it, he almost gasped. The details were so exact but drawn with emotion wrapped around each pencil stroke. If he didn’t know better, he would guess the artist loved him . . . deeply. But how could that be? Maggie was still a girl. Or was she? Over the last six weeks Charles had grown to know Maggie in a new and deeper way. He had witnessed her patient endurance with the long train journey and the often uncomfortable conditions. He had seen her joy at meeting her grandmother and her blossoming interest in not only the business but also in the wide world around her. He had seen her strength and courage as she faced the stunning news of her adoption. And finally, he had benefited from her silent admonishing and forbearance as he flirted with Georgia.

  He sighed. He had made such a fool of himself on the trip, thinking that Georgia would be interested in him. He had become prideful, arrogant, full of himself. He didn’t want to make another mistake like that one. But on the return journey, Maggie had crept into his heart and taken up residence there in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

  Charles didn’t want his heart trampled on again. It was his own fault, but it hurt nevertheless. Maybe not as much as it would have if he had become more invested in a relationship with Georgia.

  How could he know if Maggie was also interested in him? Was the drawing all the proof he needed?

  Today he had tired soon after noon, the rigors of the trip catching up with him, so Joshua told him to go home. The street led uphill from downtown toward his home, and he slowed the farther he went. So the last few blocks, he started whistling one of the new songs this year, “While Strolling Through the Park One Day.” The fairly peppy rhythm helped him walk up the final blocks. He pretended he was strolling through that park with Maggie. A Maggie who was in love with him.

  Evidently, Morris heard his whistle, because when he stepped up on the porch, the front door opened. “Welcome home, sir.” The tall Indian closed the door behind him and held out his hand to take Charles’s coat.

  Charles slid it off his shoulders and handed it over before also removing his gloves. “I’ve told you that you don’t have to be so formal with me, Morris.”

  “I know you have, but now that you’re the master of the house, you deserve the respect.” The houseman took the coat and hung it on the hall tree, then stuffed the leather gloves into one of the pockets.

  Charles laughed. “Thank you.” He started down the hallway, but turned back. “Haven’t you and White Dove been wanting to visit your married daughter?”

  Although his servant kept a straight face, he couldn’t keep the smile from his eyes. “That we have.”

  “I suggest you leave as soon as you can get ready. You don’t have to be back until Monday.”

  “But, sir, who—?”

  “I’m not helpless. I can scrounge for food, or even go over to one of the hotels to eat. And the maid will be here during the day. I’ll be fine. I’d just as soon have some peace and quiet anyway. The long journey has caught up with me, and I desire nothing more than a long nap.”

  Morris nodded. “Have you forgotten that Little Deer will be off for the next two days?”

  Charles turned. “That had slipped my mind, but you go anyway. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”

  “All right. We’ll get ready, but I do want to draw a warm bath for you before we leave.”

  “If it’ll make you happy, go ahea
d.”

  Morris had been right. Charles enjoyed sinking into the steamy water. The warmth chased away the lingering chill, and he soaked longer than usual. When he finished scrubbing and drying off, he crawled under the covers of his bed and was asleep in seconds.

  When he awakened, he noticed that the light had dimmed, and it was close to dinnertime. Hunting through his armoire for something comfortable and warm, he pulled out a flannel shirt and wool trousers. He dressed, then added a velvet smoking jacket he’d bought because sometimes the rooms in the large house felt drafty. Then he thrust his feet into well-worn, velvet house slippers.

  Taken by hunger, he decided to raid the kitchen. Surely White Dove had left something he could fix himself to eat. He knew about the cookies in the pantry, but he really should eat something more substantial. Then he would spend the evening in the library reading one of the books he’d purchased from the latest shipment at the store—Vicar of Wakefield, Kangaroo Hunters, or Wild Man of the West. That is, if he could get Joshua and Maggie out of his mind long enough to concentrate.

  Charles hurried down the hallway, nearing the stairs. Just then, his slick-soled house shoes slid off the top step, and his hip hit the edge. Suddenly he found himself tumbling down. He grasped for the railing, for something, anything, to slow his momentum. Too late! His head cracked against the marble floor. And everything went black.

  •••

  Joshua worked for a few hours after Charles left, drawing up plans for the grand opening. As he worked, he had another idea for the event. The thoughts bounced around in his head, intruding on every other thought. He really wanted to discuss the idea with Charles before he raised it with Florence. Maybe he should get his driver to take him by the Stanton mansion on the way home.

  After Erik arrived with the brougham, Joshua climbed into the coach, laying the satchel containing his notes on the seat. “Take me to the Stanton mansion up on Washington.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Caine.” Erik closed the door and climbed into the driver’s box.

  A cold wind swept across the water this afternoon and seeped into the enclosed space. Joshua rubbed his hands together. Although Seattle rarely saw freezing temperatures in November, it did have bone-chilling rains and gloomy, cloud-filled days.

  On the journey, Joshua studied the changes in this section of Seattle since he had last been there. Between downtown and the area where Charles Stanton lived, clusters of smaller homes were crammed together on many of the streets, some just hovels, but most adequate for a family. Joshua wouldn’t want to live that close to his neighbors, and Florence surely wouldn’t. But the occupants of these newer homes were also potential customers. Perhaps they should include some stock in the store that would fit a lower income while still maintaining high standards of quality.

  When Erik pulled up the drive in front of the Stanton mansion, Joshua couldn’t see any lights, even though the day was overcast and dreary. “I hope that boy is home, and this trip wasn’t in vain.”

  The driver climbed down and opened the door a crack. “You want me to go see if he’s here, Mr. Caine? You wouldn’t have to get out in the cold again.”

  Joshua pushed the door open wider. “No, I’ll go.”

  He stepped down and hurried to the double doors surrounded by sidelight windows covered with some kind of lightweight draperies. He lifted the brass knocker and let it fall with a loud bang. When no one answered the door, he lifted his hand toward the knocker again. Just then, he heard a strange noise coming from inside the house. A kind of groaning. He put his face up to the sidelight window and cupped his hands around his eyes, trying to block the outside light. He thought he saw a large, strange lump on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. That was a marble floor. If someone fell, he or she was hurt. Shouldn’t one of the servants be around?

  Joshua turned around. “Erik, I need your help.”

  The driver loped up to the porch. “What is it, Mr. Caine?”

  “I’m not sure.” Joshua turned back to the windows just as a longer and louder groan issued from the house. “Do you hear that?”

  “Yes, sir. Sounds like someone’s hurt.” Erik peeked through the other sidelight window.

  “Looks like maybe someone fell down the stairs.”

  Joshua tried the front door, but it didn’t open. “Find a way into the house, wherever you can. We really need to get in.”

  “Sometimes the back doors are left unlocked for deliveries.” Erik started around the house while he talked back over his shoulder. “I’ll find a way in. You can bank on that, Mr. Caine.” The younger man loped around the back corner of the large home.

  The groans grew louder.

  “Just hold on a little longer.” Joshua shouted through the closed doors. “Help is on the way.”

  Chapter 24

  Pain sliced through Charles’s head like red-hot daggers. Darkness engulfed him. Even though he could hear and feel people nearby, his eyelids were so heavy he couldn’t lift them. And trying increased the agony beyond the threshold he could stand. So he sank once again into the depths of nothingness, trying to get away from the earthquake of pain.

  Loud groans aroused him from his hiding place. He wondered where they were coming from. Then he felt the rumbles deep in his own throat. Four hands lifted him from the cold, hard surface, but every movement added to his anguish. He tried to get away from the strong arms holding him. Fighting didn’t work, because his strength had fled. So he quit bucking against them. Where was he? How did he get here? His memory was like a blank page in a book where the story had been erased. As he tried to delve deeper into his mind, a wall of pain stopped him.

  The jostling as he was carried into the cold wind intensified his torment. His whole body shook, and the hands gripped him tighter. Quick bursts of conversation were over before his befuddled mind could make out the words. At least two men manhandled him, and he could do nothing about it. Was he a prisoner somewhere? If so, why?

  Then he was in a closed vehicle traveling at a higher speed than the street should allow. Each bump and pothole jerked him, even though someone held him down. Would this torture never end? With a final muscle spasm, he fell into an abyss as dark as midnight, with even his surroundings slipping away.

  •••

  Joshua was thankful when Erik stopped the coach as close to the front door of the mansion as he could. The younger man quickly jumped down and jerked the door open. Joshua really didn’t want to hurt Charles any more than he already was, because his anguished moans had filled the inside of the coach as they traveled toward Joshua’s home. After they slid Charles from the coach, each of them pulled one of his arms across his own shoulder. With the man between them, they made their way up the rock walkway toward the front door.

  Joshua grasped the knob with the hand not supporting his young partner and gave it a quick twist. After pushing the heavy wooden door open with his other arm, Erik helped him move the unconscious man into the foyer. Charles’s dead weight really dragged against them.

  “Joshua.” Florence stood at the bottom of the stairs, concern filling her eyes and tone. “What happened?”

  He gritted his teeth trying to keep a good hold on the young man whose head lolled against his own chest. “Charles evidently took at tumble down the stairs in his house.” While he talked, he and Erik eased their way toward the parlor with their burden. “No servants were about, so we brought him here.”

  By the time they got Charles inside the doorway, Florence joined them. “He won’t be comfortable on the settee. Bring him down the hallway to the guest room.”

  She hurried ahead of the men, her heels tapping a loud staccato.

  Joshua gave Erik a quick glance before turning his full attention to the man between them. No signs of Charles awakening yet. Worry bit at his mind. What if his young partner were seriously injured?

  By the time they made it into the large bedroom, Florence had pulled the fancy spread off the bed and turned back the covers. “Is he bleedi
ng anywhere?”

  The men eased the young man down onto the feather mattress and lifted his legs. Joshua took off the slippers before tucking Charles’s feet under the quilts. “We didn’t find any.”

  He turned to his driver. “Erik, go find Dr. Wharton as quickly as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.” Erik strode into the hall, and the front door slammed almost immediately.

  Joshua turned back to the bed. He didn’t like how pale Charles looked, almost lifeless. He felt against the side of his neck and noticed with relief that the young man’s pulse beat steadily.

  Florence touched his shoulder. “I’ll get warm water for the washstand. The doctor may need it. And maybe I should get some cloths ready in case he needs bandages.” She bustled from the room.

  As Joshua studied the young man, he noticed that Charles’s eyelids quivered occasionally, but they didn’t open. And the man’s fingers sometimes twitched. Joshua hoped those were good signs. If the doctor didn’t get here soon, Joshua decided he might need to do a more thorough examination of his partner.

  “Daddy, who is that?” Maggie’s soft-spoken words drew his attention to her standing in the doorway.

  He looked up. “It’s Charles. He fell, and Jorgensen and I found him at the bottom of the stairs in his foyer. We’re not sure how badly he’s injured.”

  “Charles!” Her face went white.

  She rushed across the carpet and took his limp hand. The look on her face told Joshua everything, and grief and joy struck his heart simultaneously. His little girl had fallen in love—with his business partner and friend.

  “What happened?” She turned toward him, anguish covering her face.

  He explained how he had found Charles in his home. While he talked, Florence came in with the basin of water and bandages, but Maggie barely looked up. Joshua’s eyes met hers, and a look of knowing passed between them.

  Florence crossed to Maggie and put her arm around her. “I’m sure Charles will be fine. He’s just had a bad bump to his head, but we’ve sent Erik for the doctor just in case. Now come, Maggie, and let him rest.” She guided Maggie from the room, murmuring all the way.