Lorena...
Jesse found his voice though it took all his strength: “Leave Annie alone. Your scheme is for nothing. Annie signing over her share...under duress... won't hold water. It's insane. No one in their right mind...”
“Who said I was in my right mind? I've never had that phrase used to describe me. You don't understand. I am Morgan Mills...and every lawman and every judge in Texas has dipped into my deep and gold lined pocketbook. I call the shots around here once again.”
“Leave Annie out of this. I'll get you the money if that's what you want.”
“It's not just the money. Its about my birthright. It's about revenge! It's about power. You might as well make a deal with the devil, Mr. High and Mighty. Obviously God has abandoned you...else a miracle would have occurred by now, and... like Jesus... you would have arisen from the tomb. What is it you think you can do from the bottom of a thirty foot hole? Do you really believe in God's mercy even now? They tell me Leroy Conner begged for God's mercy when that turpworker strung him up. He danced at the end of the rope any way...just as you will die at the bottom of this hole. You're already half way to Hell. ”
“Why Conner?”
“He knew too much. He overheard my little talk with the sheriff and Domingo...and that idiot was going to warn you. Never knew that Leroy had that much gumption. Maybe he thought you would reward him somehow. Maybe he had a sudden change of character. Who knows what drove him to do anything.”
“How... did you... get out?”
“Did you think the state asylum could hold me forever?”
“The sheriff...?”
“Of course! He was a big help in coordinating my release He should be in Mexico by now...living in a villa ...enjoying the good life on Morgan money ...money Mama gave me. She's so daffy in her old age, she even signed over her share of the mills. You nouveau riche' never understand money and power and what it can buy...loyalty...favors...silence. My mother always took care of my finances. Now I have mother’s share in the mills...and I'll have the other half as well...as soon as Annie tends to the transfer. She can always say she had a change of heart. So stay alive, Jesse McCann. You are valuable...at least for a little while longer.”
Lorena turned to mount her horse and leave him there alone with very little chance of escape.
Jesse's voice found its last bit of strength, as he bellowed loud enough to send a flock of birds scurrying toward the sky: “Leave Annie alone, or I will see you buried. You will not keep me in this hole!”
There was no answer, save the echo his own empty and desperate bravado. Then there was complete silence.
By nightfall Jesse made up his mind to stay alive. He knew someone would be searching by now, so every sound above had to count as a possible rescuer. He focused intently to tune out the sounds of scurrying night creatures and listening for sounds of a search party of trusted friends and family. The rainwater and near comatose sleep had strengthened his body and mind, and he was ready. Yet time dragged on, and no one came.
So Jesse made one last attempt to scale the rugged rock interior, running his hands along the jutting rocks, using foot holds as leverage to climb. He decided to scale the slippery wall all the way up if it were possible. If he made it to the top and slipped, the thirty feet free-fall could possibly kill him. Yet he was willing to take that gamble. It seemed an eternity had passed before he reached the space where the cover had been left ajar.
His legs and arms quivered from exertion, and he knew it was a matter of time before his fingers would seize and his grip would loosen. His hands sought and found an above ground anchor in a mud mired log left behind by a the logging operation, and he breathed in the sweet air of the freedom almost within his grasp. Yet he could hear the sound of the dogs and human voices circling through the woods.
The turpworkers.
He instinctively remained quiet and lowered his head as his arms ached from stretching to hold on to the log above.
When the sound faded, he raised his head and looked up into the dark face of a new visitor: Domingo, whose boots rested upon Jesse's hands, ready, at any moment, to send him down to his grave.
The last thing Jesse heard as the blue mist began to billow around him, was the call of the lone wolf growing closer and closer. Somehow, it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard. Suddenly Domingo was gone. Domingo's screams grew fainter and fainter, until all was quiet .
At that moment, Jesse McCann became a true believer.
XII: An Unexpected Visitor
Back home, Katie took Cal under her wing just as she had promised Beulah Birdwell she would. They two were always together in those days of uncertainty over Jesse. Cal's mother, Myra Conner, was fading away from the cancer that devoured her spindly body; and Katie's mother Annie was consumed by a different kind of illness: worry over her husband and the child clinging to life inside her.
Out of sheer desperation due to similar predicaments, Katie and Cal stuck together. In true Conner fashion, the boy was difficult at best: surly and restless one moment, wild and hyper the next; but the headstrong Katie understood him better than anyone and was able to reign him in with her own willful hand. She herself had been “a handful” growing up—free spirited, “high-strung” some had said.
The differences between the two was due to the stability of Katie's devoted parents and the material advantages afforded her; whereas Cal's only advantage was that he had been taken in by the McCanns until he could be adopted into a suitable home. His young life had been marred by an abusive father, a self-absorbed mother, and extreme poverty. If Cal was capable of affection and trust at all, it had been saved up for one person exactly like Katie McCann.
The aftermath of the party and the growing concern over Jesse's whereabouts had left both of them quiet and pensive They became content to sit on the wide veranda while Katie read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn aloud or played the latest ragtime on the phonograph.
Yet Katie's thoughts were never far from her missing father and the toll his disappearance had taken on her mother. The responsibility on her young shoulders had made her grow serious and quiet. That morning she had sent for Doc Pritchett to take a look at her mother. Annie had not slept well since Jesse's disappearance. And now, through the screen door, she could overhear the discussion between the two as her mother rested on the divan:
“I am ordering you to stay put, Mrs.McCann. Is that understood? You can't do Jesse any good by roaming the countryside looking for him... and end up losing that baby. Good Lord, Annie. You've always been such a sensible woman until recently. This pregnancy has turned you inside out.”
Doc's voice softened, as if seeing the effect of his words on his already troubled patient: “There now... if you can make it just six more weeks, your baby will be ready to deliver and all will be back to normal...but you have to rest.”
On the veranda, the eavesdropping ceased as Cal's attention was suddenly diverted by the approach of a stranger:
“Look yonder, Katie! Some fella's coming up the drive.”
Katie gazed across the wide green lawn to the tree–lined drive that led from a wrought iron entry gate left open for the doctor's visit. The black Model T chugged along, winding toward the house; and behind the wheel was an older man with graying hair and steely blue eyes—a man Katie had never seen. She instinctively ordered Cal into the house, laid down her Mark Twain and rose to greet the unannounced visitor .
The man, although apparently in his sixties, was still dashingly handsome with aristocratic features made more masculine and distinguished by the lines etched there by life. As he drove closer, Katie was struck by the most piercingly blue eyes she had ever seen. His suit, though a bit frayed and outdated, was of good quality, as if the man, much like his clothing, had seen better days.
“May I help you?' she asked, as he pulled up and stepped down.
The man looked at Katie for a full moment, and then a restrained smile warmed the icy eyes for a fleeting moment: “Yo
u remind me...so much... of your grandmother, Kate,” he said.
“You knew my grandmother, sir ?”
“Yes...I did indeed know your grandmother. I'm Clinton McCann.”
“Katherine Hannah McCann,” she said, and remembering her manners, extended her hand. “Most everyone calls me Katie. Are we somehow related?”
“We are. I am your grandfather,”
Katie stood frozen, unable to speak for several seconds:”My real grandfather? Like my Grandpapa Jerod ?”
“Yes, Katie, I am your real grandfather...though Jerod Morgan may have served you far better than I ever would have. Please...if you will allow me to come in? I've come to speak with your mother. “
“You may come in, Mr...oh...I forgot to ask...what should I call you?
“Call me grandfather, grandpa...Clint... whatever suits you. I expect it will come to you naturally at some point...if my son allows me into your life.”
“No one has ever spoken of you...only of my grandmother Katherine. I always wondered why I never met you. Have you been away?'
“Well, yes. I've been away ...detained against my will you might say.”
“Oh I see,” Katie said, seeing nothing. “I will tell Mother you're here, and see if she's up to your visit. My mother's not been well. Doc Pritchett's with her now.”
As they entered through the screen door, Cal, whose nose had been pressed against the front window, ran to hide in his bedroom . A stranger was in the house. From his Shanty Town experience, that was never good news.
Katie showed Clinton McCann to the parlor, where she took his hat and offered him her father's overstuffed easy chair. Annie had already gone up to her room. Doc had given her a sedative to help her rest and then helped himself to a brandy before finishing his rounds. Clint sat forward, knees together, taking in the solid structure of the great house, the simple design and spacious rooms.
Clinton McCann's thoughts were sad ones: This is my son's home...yet I have never set foot in it until now. The family gatherings I have missed...Thanksgiving, Christmas, my granddaughters birthdays. If only...
Regret filled his heart, regret that he had left Mt. Mission that day so long ago, before knowing of the son Kate carried, regret that Jesse and Annie had built a life for themselves without him, regret that he had been brutish to his own flesh and blood when Jesse had come to East Texas to find him. He had been haughty and full of himself. He had denied his own flesh and blood in concern for his new life: the position of importance as the minister of the Full Gospel Church and the money and power derived from Reese Morgan's daughter.
He with his inflated view of himself as a great saver of souls, had forsaken his own son to hide a past left behind in the West Texas dust. Eventually, the truth had to surface: Clinton McCann was a bigamist, a fake, a liar.
Now he was on a different kind of mission, one that he hoped could, in some way, make up for those years of misdeeds. He had information that he hoped would help reassure Annie whom he still revered as his former parishioner and friend. She had always represented to him all that was good, all that be himself could not be. Now she appeared before him, standing at the bottom of the stairs, shaking and pale.
“Clinton McCann,” she murmured.
“You were resting,” he said. “You shouldn't have come down. But...nonetheless....I have news. I don't know how wise I am to have brought it.”
Annie seated herself gingerly and looked him directly in the eye: “Tell me what you have come to say. Tell me now. I need news... whether good or bad. I need to know something. How long have you been... out?”
Clint moved to sit by Annie on the divan and spoke in a guarded tones, being mindful of Doc Pritchett's presence:
“I was released from Huntsville a couple of years ago. Since then, I've lived in Pine Crest to be near the sanitarium where Lorena was detained. It's complicated. Our marriage was declared null and void due to my marriage to Jesse's mother. Yet I can't forget the children and grandchildren I have with Lorena... and they still remember her the way she was when they were little. Otherwise, there is nothing left of our life together. She told me she was cured of her mental condition …but after arriving in Pine Crest, I saw for myself. She's worse than ever.”
“What have you come to tell me, Clint?”
“Let me start at the beginning. Domingo was found by the turpworkers...dead in a deep ravine. Some of the men said they saw him walk right over the cliff. He got lost in some kind of unseasonal fog while trying to escape something. Talk is...though hard to believe...the fog formed into a whirlwind around him , and he was running and shouting something about a wolf coming after him. No one has seen a wolf in the area for fifty years. The poor devil must have been 'smoking too much peyote' one of the men said. They say Lorena was leaning over Domingo's body...shaking him... screaming 'Why didn't you finish the job? Why did you hesitate...you fool?' They say she rifled through his pockets mumbling about 'the document'. Some of the men had to pull her away from his body. On him was a message he was about to deliver to you. What it said, no one will ever know. Lorena ripped it into pieces and let it fly in the wind . I figure he was to bring back paperwork with your signature. If you put the clues together, it's obvious what she put Domingo up to. They plotted to hold Jesse for a ransom of sorts.”
“It doesn't surprise me. She always wanted my share of the mill. I wish Grandpa had left it to her. That's always been a thorn in Lorena's side...but only a crazy person would go to these extremes to get it. Never mind that. Where is Jesse, Clint? No matter how bad things are... you have to tell me the rest of it.”
“I tried to force Lorena to tell me. All she would say is 'Jesse's in a deep, dark place where he'll never again see the light of day'.”
“Does anyone else know about this? “
“I went to see Hennessy, Jerod Morgan and Adam Kessler after they arrived back at Pine Crest Hotel yesterday evening. I told them what I've told you...everything...including Lorena's talk of 'a deep, dark place.' They are searching again today, and maybe the information will help somehow.”
“Even if they find him...what if its too late...” Annie began. “What if it's just too late?”
At that, Doc slammed down his brandy and shook his finger at Clinton McCann:
“Look here, man. Don't upset the woman. She's in no condition to be getting upset.”
“I understand. I didn't know Annie was expecting..my grandchild... until now. I haven't been in contact with you folks in Morgans Bluff...for years. But I want you to know I have no other motive than to ease Annie's mind.”
Then Clint turned to Annie, and his tone went soft: “You... above all others... have loved and stood by my son...placed him above all else. I know I've made many enemies in this town after my true identity was learned...but I've paid for my crimes. Now I'm trying to mend old fences. I'm starting here and now, Annie...with you. I've known you since you were born...baptized you in the Big Muddy...that very river right outside your back door... and I'm still your father-in-law.”
Annie sat quietly for a moment before she replied: “No matter what bad blood existed between you and Jess in the past... and I know there was plenty... I see you are trying to make amends today. If anyone can figure out that clue you mentioned, it would be Buck. He's rough around the edges and as backwoods as they come, but he's sharper than he seems. At least now I have something to cling to.”
Clint sighed in relief:
“Then I've accomplished my mission, and I'll be on my way.” He kissed Annie's cheek, retrieved his fedora and headed out to the veranda. Before leaving, he paused to tell Katie goodbye: “I hope we'll meet again someday, Katie. I'm proud to know you are my grandchild.”
From her place on the porch swing, Katie forced a tight smile. The man, who though related by blood, was nothing more than a stranger. By then, Cal had slipped out the back door and circled around, in anticipation of the man's departure. After all, Huckleberry Finn and his boyish adventures awaited, and the da
y grew short.
When Clinton McCann cranked his engine, Cal dropped down next to Katie and whispered: “Did that man bring bad news?”
“I don’t think so. I think he said Mr. Hennessy might find my papa.”
“And you will be happy again, ” Cal declared.
Katie could only nod as the tears began to fall. Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her book, and with Cal listening intently, revisited Mark Twain: "Mornings, before daylight, I slipped into corn fields and borrowed a watermelon...”
XIII: The Final Search
“Pack it up boys. We've no time to lollygag, ” Buck declared.
“What's that word you said?” asked Jerod.
“Lollygag! ...don’t you understand the English language?
It means we can't footle around. Jess is most likely starving in a hole in the woods...whilst we sit here eatin' flapjacks at the Pine Crest Hotel. Makes a man lose his appetite...almost.”
“I'm ready. Let's hit the trail ,” Adam Kessler announced.“ We haven’t a minute to spare. We don’t know if Jesse's injured or... God forbid...”
“Don't say it,” growled Buck. “Let's get off our duffs and go bring him home!”
The three men headed back to the wilderness for another long day. They took the wagon out as far as there was road . When they came to the thickets, and there was no path, they tied up the team and went on foot. Buck braced himself on a walking stick and used another stick to rummage through the high bushes, as if he knew exactly what he was doing:
“It's here somewhere. I know it is,'” he mumbled under his breath. A deep,dark place, he kept repeating to himself.
“What are you looking for Mr. Hennessy?” asked Adam.
A Mist in the Pines: Jesse's Quest (The McCann Family Saga Book 2) Page 6