The day before Christmas, Della Bueller invited Emma Lincoln, Sophia Zaberskie and Hulda Gumpert to join Jenna and herself for afternoon tea at the boardinghouse. Jenna had made an apple-brandy cake, peeling apples until her fingers smarted and taking nips of brandy while she soaked the finished layers. The whole house smelled wonderful.
The girls had been invited to a church social, and they walked out the front door dressed in their very best starched gingham shirtwaists and woolen skirts, escorted by a blushing Jimmy Gumpert and his brusque, no-nonsense father, Emil.
Mrs. Bueller’s afternoon guests arrived, and Jenna tried her best to feel festive. “Ladies,” Mrs. Bueller announced when everyone had gathered at her lace-covered dining table. “Thank you for coming. My stars, I haven’t had a proper tea since I left Iowa.”
Sophia shared a platter of what she called sand cookies and made a breathless announcement. “Doctor say baby come maybe early,” she stated, her face beaming.
“How early?” Emma inquired.
“Not early enough,” Sophia said with a laugh. “I feel like big fat cow.” Her dark hair was coiled at her neck. Jenna had never seen it unbraided.
“Jimmy vas three veeks late,” round-faced Hulda Gumpert admitted. “I thought I had swallowed a whole barn with the cow inside!”
Della Bueller poured tea into flowered china cups, and Jenna cut slices of cake and passed out silver forks. Talk moved quickly to the Heavenly town newspaper, the Star, and its latest articles on the Oregon senate race and the suffrage movement.
“Ted says vote for women will come soon,” Sophia offered.
“Good!” Della exclaimed. “I’m getting too old to let those young pups make all the decisions for me.”
Gray-bunned Emma Lincoln changed the subject. “Have you ladies heard about the blizzard up north?”
Jenna choked on a swallow of tea. “Where exactly up north?”
“Can’t say for sure. Sam heard about it when he went to Portland last week to pick up his new plow.”
“Jenna!” Sophia said suddenly. “You look white like cream. You maybe have worry about Mr. Carver?”
“What? Oh, no. Not really.”
“You mean ‘oh, yes,’ don’t you, dearie?” Della Bueller interjected. “That man must be on your mind. I hear you tossing and turning at night.”
Emma peered at her. “You have heard from Lee, haven’t you, Jenna?”
“No, I... We agreed not to...” Her voice trailed off and she focused on her teacup.
“Hmmmm.” Emma studied her face so long Jenna felt her cheeks flame. “Only one reason why a man and a woman agree ‘not to’ something,” the older woman observed.
“What reason?” Sophia and Hulda asked at the same time.
“Oh...” Emma paused to lick apple cake from her fingers. “When the man and the woman want to be together but can’t for some reason.”
“What reason?” Hulda and Sophia chorused again. Hulda fanned her round, flushed cheeks.
Della watched Jenna so closely it made her insides jumpy, and Emma’s pale blue eyes sought hers. “I take it you haven’t written to him?” Emma queried.
“I don’t know where he is, Emma. I have no address for him.”
Emma huffed out a breath. “And I gather he hasn’t written to you.”
Jenna shook her head, her vision blurring. “No. We agreed that we... That is...”
“Is foolish thing,” Sophia blurted, shaking a work-worn finger at Jenna.
“Maybe,” Emma countered. “Maybe not. Seems to me that’s how a man and a woman act when they’re in love with each other but they don’t want to admit it.”
In the ensuing silence Jenna closed her eyes and struggled for control.
“Is foolish,” Sophia repeated.
“More tea?” Della offered quickly.
“I think,” Emma began, holding out her cup, “that Lee Carver is waiting for a signal from you, Jenna.”
“Good!” Hulda Gumpert exclaimed. “So, vat iss problem? Jenna she not vant signal?” The woman’s dark purple dress fluttered over her generous chest.
“Oh, no,” Sophia said. “Jenna maybe is wait for Mr. Carver to make signal?”
Della set her silver teapot down with a clunk. “Jenna? Is that true?”
Numbly, Jenna managed to nod. “I told Lee that I will never remarry.”
“Remarry is not question,” Sophia sputtered. “Question is whether love is there.”
Four pairs of eyes focused on Jenna.
“Well?” Emma said gently. “Is love there?”
Della Bueller rose abruptly, rummaged in the walnut sideboard and withdrew a fat bottle of brandy. “For courage,” she announced. She dribbled a hefty shot into each teacup. Into Jenna’s she poured two extra-generous shots.
Jenna gulped down a swallow, coughed and held out her cup again. The assembled ladies laughed and waited. The silence grew.
“Jenna?” Emma prompted. “Do you love Lee Carver?”
“I—Well, you see, there is more to it than that.”
“Vat ‘more’?” Hulda queried in a piercing tone. She leaned her ample body forward.
“Um... I don’t want to force Lee’s hand. He lost his wife and son during the War, and he is wary of being hurt again. And...and I have made such awful mistakes in my life. I don’t want to hurt him.”
Emma held her gaze with unwavering directness. “But Lee is being hurt again, Jenna. By you.”
Sophia touched her hand. “And you not want to make again big mistake and hurt more, iss so?”
“Is so,” Jenna whispered. She downed another gulp of her brandy-laced tea.
“Iss not so,” Sophia challenged. “Man love woman. Woman love man. Iss simple.”
The burst of chatter set Jenna’s teeth on edge. Had she been wrong? Was it really as simple as Sophia suggested?
Yes, it was that simple, she realized. She loved Lee Carver. Nothing else mattered.
But still, even if she wanted to, she could do nothing. Lee had not let her know where he was or how to reach him.
Oh, her head was beginning to ache, and her heart hurt, as well. She listened to the women’s talk with half an ear and let her thoughts stray far away to the north.
Finally the afternoon tea drew to a close. The ladies agreed it had been a fine party and immediately made plans to do it again next month.
The following day Tess and Mary Grace helped Mrs. Bueller stuff two roast chickens for supper that night. Jenna baked four apple pies. It snowed all day, big white flakes that floated past the front windows, turning the yard into a frozen fairyland. Tonight was Christmas Eve.
When the meal was ready, Della turned down the lamps and lit the candles on the table. Jenna and the girls gathered at the long walnut table in the dining room.
Except for Ruthie, who stood at the front window, watching the snow drift down. The girl had been blue all day. Nothing seemed to interest her, not even the parlor piano.
“Ruthie,” Jenna called. “Come and sit down. It’s time to eat.”
“I dowanna, Jenna. I’m not hungry.”
“What? I thought you loved roast chicken and—”
Suddenly the girl gave a yelp and gripped the lace curtains. “Somebody’s coming!”
“What do you mean, ‘somebody’?” Tess questioned. Her hazel eyes snapped with impatience. “Well, who is it?”
“It’s...it’s...” Ruthie gave a little jump.
“Well?” Mary Grace shot. “Cat got your tongue? What is the matter with you, sister?”
Footsteps pounded up the porch steps. Mrs. Bueller refolded her napkin and laid it on the table, then patted her gray hair. In the next instant Ruthie raced to the door and yanked it wide-open.
C
hapter Thirty-Six
A tall, snow-dusted figure came in, shaking white flakes from his dark hair. His arms were full of brightly wrapped packages.
“It’s Mister Lee!” Ruthie crowed.
Jenna half rose from her chair. Lee? Here?
“It is Lee!” Mary Grace and Tess launched themselves at him, and Ruthie glommed onto one leg. “Mister Lee! Mister Lee!”
Lee laid the packages on the upholstered settee, scooped Ruthie up and spun her around and around. Then he set her down and snaked an arm around Tess and Mary Grace to hug them tight. Behind him, he heard Mrs. Bueller close the front door.
“Mr. Carver,” she said, a smile in her voice. He planted a big kiss on both the woman’s leathery cheeks.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Bueller.”
The old lady blushed a lovely shade of rose, so he kissed her again.
Jenna stood by the dining table across the room from him, her eyes wide, one hand at her throat.
“Hello, Jenna.” Lee reached her in three strides, folded her into his arms and kissed her until he thought he’d explode. When he released her she opened her mouth to speak, but he laid his forefinger against her lips and brought his mouth near her ear.
“I’m so damn glad to see you I could...”
“I—I’m glad to see you, too, Lee. So glad I can’t talk,” she whispered. “Where on earth did you come from?”
“From my ranch. It’s a little over a hundred miles north of here, near Maple Falls. I’ve been riding for two days.”
“Take off your wet things, Mr. Carver,” Mrs. Bueller urged. “And sit down and join us.” She hung his hat and his snow-covered jacket on the coatrack in the hall and added another log to the fireplace.
All through supper Lee couldn’t take his eyes off Jenna. Ruthie crawled into his lap, and the girls told him all about school and church socials and Jimmy Gumpert. The baby slept in his wicker basket, and even when he whimpered, Jenna couldn’t stop staring at Lee.
Finally, Lee decided it was time. “Guess I should tell you why I’m here,” he began. Across the table from him, Jenna carefully laid down her fork and studied him.
“I have my ranch. Three hundred acres of the best grass in the state. I have a barn for my horses and a big ranch house.”
“Ooh,” Ruthie breathed. “A real big house?”
“A real big house. It has six bedrooms.”
“Why so many?” Mary Grace asked. “Who else lives there?”
“I have three ranch hands who work for me, but they sleep in a bunkhouse. The bedrooms in the house are for you. At least I hope so.”
Jenna’s head came up and her eyes rounded into an unspoken question.
“I need a wife,” Lee said, looking straight at her. “And now I have something to offer her.” He moved to her side and bent to hold her gaze. “I want a family, too,” he continued, looking deep into her blue-green eyes. “I figure three girls and a baby boy ought to be about the right size. What do you think?”
No one said a word. Then Ruthie flung her arms around Lee’s leg. “I wanna come live with you, Mister Lee.”
“There’s a school a mile away. And the Gumperts are buying the ranch next to mine, so Jimmy can walk—”
“Yes!” Tess screamed.
Mary Grace blinked. “Can I ride Red to school?”
“And me?” Ruthie chimed. “Can Jimmy walk me to school, too?”
Lee paused and studied the woman at the head of the table. “I also need a cook for the hired men and for the house. Mrs. Bueller?”
The old lady spilled her coffee. “You want me? To cook for you and the... Why, my stars, yes. Yes. I never did want to go back to Iowa, not really. I’d much rather look after these children and the baby and you and...”
Della Bueller’s gaze fell on an openmouthed Jenna.
“Jenna?” Lee took her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Come,” he said softly.
“Oh, Lee...” Tears pooled in her green eyes. “Oh, Lee.”
He bent and murmured what he’d been waiting months to say to her. “I love you, Jenna. I need to be with you. And I want you so much I ache at night. You have to come. For God’s sake, say yes. Because if you don’t, I—”
“If I don’t, what?” Jenna whispered.
“If you don’t, I’ll have to sell the ranch and move here to Heavenly.” He lowered his voice and again held her eyes. His heart was hammering so hard he could scarcely speak.
“The truth is, Jenna, I want you more than I want the ranch.”
Then, right in front of everyone, he tipped her face up and kissed her.
No one said a word for a long, long time. And then Ruthie gave a little yelp. “Oooh,” she sang. “I think kissing means yes, doesn’t it?”
Jenna lifted her head and smiled up at Lee. “You know something, Mr. Carver? I think Ruthie is smart enough to go to school right this minute.”
“Open your presents,” Lee urged.
For Tess he had brought a handsome sewing kit with a quilted blue satin lining. Mary Grace received a book about horses, and she immediately knelt on the floor to pore over the pages while Ruthie squealed over her present, a beautiful china doll with real hair and a pink lace dress and petticoat.
The girls launched themselves at him. “Oh, Lee, thank you! Thank you.” Inexplicably, Mary Grace began to sniffle.
“I knew you’d come back,” Tess said. “I’m going to sew you something special, Lee. A shirt.”
For Mrs. Bueller he’d brought a carved walnut recipe box and a thick leather-bound recipe book with blank pages. For Baby Rob there was a chased silver drinking cup and a plush teddy bear.
At the very bottom of the pile lay a tiny package wrapped in red ribbon. With trembling fingers, Jenna peeled back the tissue paper and snapped open the velvet case.
Inside lay a wide gold wedding band.
Suddenly sunshine flooded her whole being. “Oh,” she murmured. She looked up at him with eyes blurry with tears. “Oh, Lee.” Her breath caught. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “Yes. Yes! I will marry you. I can’t stand not being with you.”
Epilogue
Three weeks later, Lee returned to Heavenly and he and Jenna were married in the front parlor of the boardinghouse. Jenna wore a gown of deep lavender silk, and Tess and Mary Grace served as bridesmaids in matching blue dresses with deep flounces. Ruthie sprinkled rose petals down the staircase when Jenna descended. A grinning Ted Zaberskie gave the bride away.
Sam Lincoln stood up with Lee, who wore his blue military jacket and dark wool trousers.
Jenna found herself so choked up she could barely speak her vows. Was this really happening? Her throat stung and tears rose in her eyes. She felt so happy and shaky she thought she would float away.
Lee slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His touch gave her courage and her voice trembled only a little.
Lee’s words were spoken in a voice that was sure and strong, and his kiss following the ceremony was the same.
Hulda Gumpert and Sophia Zaberskie had baked a four-layer wedding cake, and Emma Lincoln and Della Bueller served tea and a potent brandy punch that a half-inebriated Emil Gumpert swore was his German grandmother’s old recipe.
After the reception, Lee went off to the livery stable to rent horses for the wagon they would need for their journey north to his ranch, and then he and Jenna climbed the stairs to the bedroom and closed the door.
Lee snapped the lock and turned to find Jenna standing in the middle of the room, looking at him. Her face shone as if lit up from the inside.
“Damn, honey, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
“Yes, I probably am,” she said with a soft laugh. “I always cry when I’m happy.”
He moved close
enough to touch her but kept his hands at his side. “Are you happy, Jenna? I want you to be. I’ll always want you to be happy. I’ll work like hell to make you—”
“You don’t have to do a thing, Lee. Just be with me.”
He reached for her, folded her tight in his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Jenna.” His voice shook.
She lifted her face and he caught her mouth under his, gently at first, and then with deepening intensity.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his lips. “I’ve missed you so much, Lee. Ever since that night under the wagon I’ve wanted you. Wanted to be with you.”
He gently touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “My darling girl, you don’t know how hard I worked to keep from touching you. A thousand miles of restraint is enough to kill a man.”
“Well, we’re here now. We’re together. And I don’t care if we’re married or not, Lee Carver, if you don’t take me to bed right now, I’m going to—”
He stemmed the flow of her words with his lips, and then he scooped her up into his arms, tossed her onto the bed and followed her down.
A long, long kiss later, Jenna felt his hands at the top button of her dress.
* * *
The next morning the girls were up early. They gobbled a breakfast of pancakes and bacon provided by Mrs. Bueller, then sat at the dining table, bursting with excitement, and waited for Lee and Jenna to come downstairs.
“Why are they so late?” Tess wondered. “Lee was always up before me, so what’s taking him so long?”
Mary Grace sipped her hot chocolate. “Maybe Jenna’s got a headache. Or she’s feeding Baby Rob. Or—”
“I know, I know!” Ruthie cried. “They’re kissing!”
At last Lee and Jenna appeared, the baby’s wicker basket swinging from one of Lee’s hands. The other was entwined with Jenna’s.
An hour later, all six members of the Carver family packed up their belongings, loaded them into the horse-drawn wagon and started off for Lee’s ranch and home.
Ruthie thought they smiled an awful lot.
* * * * *
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Baby on the Oregon Trail Page 25