McKenzie

by Penny Zeller

  McKenzie slowly opened her eyes and pursed her lips together. The nausea was still there, although it seemed to be waning. “I’m all right,” she said. “But that hole ought to be filled in before someone gets seriously hurt!”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Zach said. He touched her arm, and she flinched. “I’m sorry, McKenzie. Why don’t I come out here tomorrow and fill in the hole so we don’t have that happen again?”

  McKenzie held her breath. His touch had shocked her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Zach asked. “I guess I was so intent on getting us to the ranch that I was deep in thought about some unfinished tasks.”

  McKenzie nodded. “I’m fine.” She noticed that his hand was still gently placed on her arm, and she saw the worried look in his eyes. Was he always so concerned about others? Yes, he should have been sorry for not having avoided the large hole in the road, but did he have to be so worried about her welfare? She swallowed. Such compassion would be easy to take advantage of, and she wished his personality wasn’t such that manipulating him would be so simple.

  ***

  “All right, then,” Zach said, flicking the reins to get the horses moving again. Already, he’d made a bad impression on McKenzie—he should have expected as much. She seemed so delicate and so fragile, and his protective nature rose to the surface. He only hoped she would be able to handle the hardships that came with living in Pine Haven.

  A few minutes later, when they reached the ranch, Zach was humbled, just as he always was, when they rounded the corner and drove under the large arch he’d constructed with the words “Sawyer Ranch” carved into it. God had blessed him so richly in his life. It wasn’t just the ranch, but also the friendships he’d formed and the town where the Lord had led him. How the Lord had taken an orphan and given him such a full life would always be beyond Zach’s comprehension. He cleared his throat. “McKenzie, this is Rosemary and Asa’s home,” he said, nodding to the right at a small, well-kept cabin. “Rosemary helps out in the kitchen and prepares all the meals, and her husband, Asa, is one of my ranch hands. They’re good friends—almost like family.”

  As they rode a little further, Zach’s house came into full view. “And this is my—our house.” He nodded to a cabin with a pointed roof and a large porch that encompassed most of the front of the home. It had dormers on the partial second level, which, he thought, lent character to the house, as did the two chimneys from the fireplaces, which kept the place warm in the wintertime. While not fancy in the least, Zach’s home was one of the nicer ones in the Pine Haven area, and his own hands had done most of the work.

  ***

  McKenzie’s eyes veered from the road toward the house. Next to the house was a barn, and, further down the road, she saw what appeared to be more living quarters. She’d never lived in a place with so few neighbors.

  McKenzie had noticed when Zach had corrected himself and called the house theirs instead of just his, and the thought disturbed her slightly. She thought of the more appropriate chances for matrimony that abounded in Boston and wondered if Zach believed that a woman whose parents had the means of hiring servants, a butler, and gardeners would really leave all that behind for a life that would include only hardship, backbreaking work, and little rest. Yet, Zach seemed proud of his home, even though it looked to be in desperate need of fresh paint, and the land that surrounded it.

  For today, at least, she would be proud of his accomplishments, too, even though, in Boston, only members of the lower class would find themselves in such a setting.

  “And look at that!” Zach pointed in the opposite direction where the sun had begun to set.

  McKenzie directed her gaze in the direction he was indicating and gasped to see the vivid, orange sunset. Its staggering beauty more than made up for the lack of glamour and finery of the home, the surrounding land, and Pine Haven, itself. The bright hues transfixed McKenzie, as did the towering mountains silhouetted against the glowing sky, which she’d made no particular notice of until this moment. She turned and saw that the upstairs dormers of the house faced the mountains, and she wondered which residents got to enjoy the breathtaking view from their bedroom windows. Never before had she beheld such a majestic scene, or, if she had, she’d failed to notice it. She sucked in her breath. To say that she had found herself surprisingly enchanted would have been an understatement, and, for a moment, she entertained the thought that she might never tire of staring at the scenery under the vast, Montana sky.

  “Wait until you see those mountains in the winter,” said Zach. “They’re even more amazing when they’re covered with snow. Sometimes, they even have a bluish tint to them. It’s the most beautiful thing you ever saw. When I first moved here, I saw this land and knew that if it was the Lord’s will, someday, it would be mine. I still can’t believe that I live close to something as amazing as those mountains.”

  McKenzie turned to stare at Zach as he spoke. In the winter? If things went according to plan, she would be making preparations to return to Boston long before then.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When Zach stopped the wagon in front of his house, Asa, Rosemary, Jonah, and Davey were waiting outside to greet them.

  “Pa!” Davey ran from his place beside Rosemary and leaped into Zach’s arms when he stepped down from the wagon. “Is this my new ma?” He pointed a finger at McKenzie.

  Zach swung Davey around. “Yes, son, this is McKenzie.” He set Davey down and helped McKenzie out of the wagon.

  With his nose scrunched in curiosity, Davey held out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  McKenzie shook his hand. “You must be Davey.”

  Davey blushed. “Yes, but my full name is Davey William Mitchell Sawyer.” He puffed out his chest at the sound of his own voice announcing his name. “And this is my fav’rite dog in the whole world. His name is Duke Sawyer.”

  “What a sweet dog!” McKenzie exclaimed. “And, my, what a big name for such a small fellow as yourself,” she added with a smile.

  Davey made a silly face at McKenzie. “I’m not so little,” he said, standing on tiptoe. “I’m four years old. Soon, I’ll be five, and then six, and then seven! Why, someday, I’ll even be a hundred years old. Then I’ll be as old as Grandpa Asa.”

  “Now, now, Davey,” Asa interjected. “Don’t forget that after a hundred comes a hundred and one, and then you’ll be as old as Grandma Rosemary.”

  Rosemary playfully punched her husband in the arm. “Now, Asa, you know you’re older. Don’t be putting ideas into his head.”

  ***

  McKenzie watched the interaction between Asa and Rosemary and tried to figure out where they fit into Zach’s family. She recalled that Zach had mentioned in one of his letters that his parents had died. That meant that Asa and Rosemary must be Davey’s maternal grandparents. The thoughts of Zach’s having been married before, and Davey’s losing his mother, brought on a mix of emotions, which McKenzie decided to deal with later. Hadn’t Zach mentioned something about Asa and Rosemary on the way to the house? She wished now she had paid closer attention to his explanation.

  “McKenzie, let me introduce you to everybody,” Zach said. “Remember the small cabin we passed when we first got to the ranch? It belongs to Asa and Rosemary. Asa is one of my hired hands, and Rosemary helps in the kitchen. They’ve been like parents to me, so Davey calls them Grandpa Asa and Grandma Rosemary.”

  McKenzie nodded and greeted them. So, the two were not the parents of Zach’s late wife? She wondered where her parents were, and why they weren’t helping rear their grandson. As the daughter of a lawyer, McKenzie had been instilled with an inquisitive mind, and she was constantly working to assemble any details she learned, like the pieces of a puzzle. This seemed to her like just another puzzle to solve.

  “This is Jonah Dickenson, my other hired hand,” Zach said, nodding toward a man who looked about Zach’s age, with copper-colored hair and gray eyes. “And you’ve already met Davey.”

  �
�It’s nice to meet everyone,” said McKenzie, trying to sound genuinely enthusiastic.

  “Supper should be just about ready,” Rosemary announced. She looked at McKenzie to say, “I bet you’re very tired and hungry from such a long day of traveling.”

  “I am, actually,” said McKenzie. She shifted her weight. It had been a long day, and all she wanted right now was to crawl into a nice, warm bed and go to sleep. She would even forfeit dinner if it would mean getting a peaceful night’s sleep as soon as possible.

  “Why don’t you go on into the house?” Zach suggested. “Jonah, Asa, and I will unload your trunks.”

  “Thank you,” McKenzie said, then followed Rosemary into the house. She wasn’t sure what to expect, since everything in Pine Haven was opposite of that in Boston, but she couldn’t have anticipated how plain-looking the interior would be. Not one curtain hung in the windows; instead, mismatched blankets had been hung, many of them askew. To the right was a stone fireplace, near to which a large pile of logs were stacked, and two chairs. A crude coat hanger was nailed to the wall just left of the door, and past it was the kitchen area, with a stove, a rustic, wooden counter stacked with dishes, and a large table, surrounded by six chairs. A few shelves lined the kitchen walls, as well, which were plain, unlike the wallpapered walls of McKenzie’s house. Past the kitchen was a set of stairs leading up to the bedrooms, McKenzie surmised.

  The atmosphere was dark and gloomy, except for in the kitchen, where two candles were lit, and, although the house was larger than she had expected it to be, it was nowhere near the spacious size to which she was accustomed. Still, while the cabin may have failed to meet her expectations, the aromas of whatever Rosemary had prepared for dinner offered hope. When the men came in from outside, everyone took a seat, leaving a chair for McKenzie between Zach and Rosemary.

  Zach pulled McKenzie’s chair out for her, which she hadn’t exactly expected. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She sat down and listened as Zach blessed the meal, and she was struck by how personal it sounded. Her father’s prayers were always short and simple: “Dear Lord, bless this food. Amen.” In contrast, Zach’s prayer was longer and more conversational, as if he knew God intimately. “Dear Lord, we thank You for this day and for all the blessings You have given us. Thank You for this food. Please bless the hands that prepared it. We also thank You for McKenzie’s safe travel to Pine Haven. We pray that You will help each of us to make her feel welcome in her new home. Please bless our wedding tomorrow and guide us in our marriage so that it may be pleasing to You. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”

  As the other voices chimed in with an amen, McKenzie thought about how Zach had thanked God for her safe travel to Pine Haven and asked Him to bless their marriage. McKenzie had never heard such an intricate prayer. She wondered if her parents had ever prayed for her specific needs or offered praise for acknowledged blessings. Somehow, she doubted it.

  “Would you please pass the potatoes?” Jonah asked. McKenzie watched as the potatoes went from Asa to Jonah. In her own home, Nellie would arrange each table setting with the food Cook had prepared. No one passed any food on the table. If something was needed, Nellie or Cook would fetch it. McKenzie was unsure of how to go about preparing her own plate.

  “Would you care for some potatoes?” Rosemary asked her.

  “Potatoes?” McKenzie asked.

  “Yes. They’re mashed with butter—quite tasty. I guess you’d say that they’re an important staple in this family.” Rosemary smiled.

  This family? McKenzie thought. This wasn’t a family—not when only two of the six were related.

  “There’re also biscuits and turkey. Almost like Thanksgiving with all these trimmings.” Rosemary was now staring at McKenzie, awaiting her response.

  “Pardon me, yes. I’ll take a biscuit, a spoonful of potatoes, and a few slices of turkey. I’d also like some tea to drink, please,” McKenzie answered.

  Rosemary raised her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said, I would like one biscuit, a spoonful of potatoes, and a few slices of turkey on my plate. I’d also like tea to drink.” McKenzie’s voice rose to a higher pitch at her annoyance of having to repeat herself. She never had to do such a thing at home.

  Rosemary looked dumbfounded, and McKenzie noticed that the room had gone completely silent. Finally, Rosemary stood to her feet and began arranging food on McKenzie’s plate to McKenzie’s specifications. When she was finished, she placed it in front of her guest.

  “I don’t have any tea to offer you,” she said, sitting down again. “Perhaps, Zach could pick some up for you the next time he’s in town. We have fresh milk or water.”

  “Thank you,” said McKenzie. She could feel the stares of the others on her face and wondered why they seemed displeased. She took a bite and was thankful when the conversation around the table resumed.

  After McKenzie had cleaned her plate, she said, “Rosemary, I’d like another biscuit, please. I’m finding that my appetite is quite large after that long trip.” With that, she placed her hands in her lap and waited for Rosemary to serve her.

  Rosemary reached for a biscuit and placed it on McKenzie’s plate.

  “You don’t, by chance, have any honey, do you?” McKenzie asked. “We have the most delicious honey in Boston.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Rosemary. “We don’t have any honey, but we do have some strawberry preserves.”

  “That would be lovely,” McKenzie said with a smile. “Cook used to make homemade preserves, and strawberry is among my favorites.” She handed Rosemary her biscuit, then watched as the woman stood up and walked over to one of the shelves in the kitchen. She retrieved a jar of preserves, opened it, and smoothed the jelly onto the biscuit.

  “That was delicious,” McKenzie said when she was finished eating. “My, how that lengthy train ride and dirty trip on the stagecoach have taken a toll on me. Would you mind drawing a warm bath for me, Rosemary?”

  ***

  “Zach?” Rosemary said, looking down the table, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

  Zach had debated how to handle McKenzie’s treating Rosemary like a lowly servant, and his first inclination had been to take a stand for Rosemary against McKenzie. But, then, he’d thought better of it—he didn’t want to upset McKenzie on her first night here. He’d seesawed back and forth in his mind and prayed for wisdom throughout the meal. Now, he knew what he must do.

  “McKenzie, may I speak to you in private for a minute?” he asked. She looked surprised but nodded, and so he pulled out her chair for her, then led her out to the front porch.

  “McKenzie…” Zach started. He wasn’t sure how to say what he needed to say. He knew that every marriage had its conflicts, but he hadn’t expected them to encounter one so early.

  “Yes?” McKenzie said, seeming oblivious to anything amiss.

  “McKenzie, did your family have servants?” he asked her.

  “Yes, of course. We have Biddie, who does all the cleaning and washing; Nellie, who helps serve the food and does many odd jobs; Cook, who prepares the food; Lawrence, our butler and chauffeur; and Manuel, our gardener. Why do you ask?”

  The stream of hired help McKenzie listed made Zach dizzy. No wonder she was unaccustomed to serving herself! The way things were done on the ranch would be quite a shock to her. “McKenzie, Rosemary is not a servant, and neither is Asa or Jonah,” he patiently explained. “Granted, they are hired help—they’re paid for what they do—but they’re more like family than employees. Rosemary doesn’t serve people, unless it’s assisting Davey with his food. She makes all the meals and cleans the kitchen afterward and takes care of the house, but she’s not a maid. It’s a lot of work to feed this many people, and she does a fine job, but, soon, you’ll be helping her with those duties. Everyone has to pull his own weight around the ranch in order for it to be successful. Does that make sense?” Zach tried to keep his voice low and gentle. He wanted to avoid embarrass
ing her at all costs. But it didn’t look like he’d succeeded, judging by the tears in McKenzie’s eyes and her quivering lower lip.

  ***

  McKenzie felt the tears start. She’d been here for less than two hours, and, already, she was making an utter fool of herself. What must Zach and the others have thought when she kept asking Rosemary to serve her? They must think her to be such a spoiled brat. And why hadn’t Zach spoken up prior to this, instead of allowing her to carry on like a nincompoop? She sniffled. What she wouldn’t give to be back home again! The reminder that she must endure many hardships for Kaydie’s sake was the only thing that kept her from running from the house, going into town, and ordering a ticket for the earliest stagecoach heading east.

  “McKenzie, please don’t cry,” Zach pleaded. But she couldn’t stop the sobs. She was so miserable, so alone, so far from home.

  Zach took a step toward McKenzie. “Shh, McKenzie,” Zach said, his voice a whisper. “It’s all right. No one will think anything of what happened.” He reached his arms out and wrapped them loosely around her. “Everyone here knows things were different in Boston. Don’t worry about it.”

  McKenzie looked up at Zach. Shouldn’t he be saving his kindness for a woman who would really love him? Shouldn’t he be concerned about the feelings of a woman who would make good on her vows to remain married to him forever? Instead, he held in his arms a woman who would leave in a few short months, after she’d finished the task she’d set out to accomplish. The thought made McKenzie feel even worse. “I’m sorry, Zach,” she said, apologizing for more than just the meal episode.

  “No harm done,” Zach said. “It’ll take a little bit to get used to the way things are around here. I remember when I moved here from Chicago, and life was so different. In time, you’ll fit right in, and no one will be able to tell that you haven’t lived here your whole life.”

  “I need to apologize to Rosemary,” McKenzie said. She doubted she’d ever come to like the woman who’d embarrassed her in this way, but she knew that the right and proper thing to do was to ask for forgiveness.