Yesterday was the publication date for my newest novel Mary's Blessing. So today, I'm giving you a peek into the book.
Chapter 1
Outside Oregon
City
April 1885
“Pa?” Mary Lenora Murray shouted back over her shoulder
as she picked up the heavy picnic basket. “You ready to go?” Why does he
always drag his feet when we’re going to church?
Her father came through the mud room into the kitchen,
letting the screen door slam shut behind him. He smelled of heat, hay, and
sunshine, with the strong tang of muck from the barn mingled in. By the looks
of his clothes, attending church was the farthest thing from his mind. His
ratty trousers held smudges of several dark colors. She didn’t even want to
guess what they were. And the long sleeves of his undershirt, the only thing
covering his torso, were shoved above his elbows. Grayed and dingy, the shirt
would never be white again, no matter how hard she tried to get it clean.
Mary bit her tongue to keep from scolding him as she did
her younger brothers and sister when they made such a racket entering the
house. No doubt, he would give her some excuse about having too much work to go
to church. Not a big surprise. She’d heard it all before too many times.
He set a bucket of fresh water beside the dry sink and
gripped his fingers around the front straps of his suspenders. That always
signaled he was about to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.
“I’m not going today.” This time, he didn’t really make
any excuses. Just this bald-faced comment.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to
calm her anger. She’d give him a sweet answer even if the words tasted bitter
in her mouth. “The new pastor is coming today. We’re having dinner on the
grounds after the service. Remember, I told you when we got home last Sunday.”
She flashed what she hoped was a warm smile at him and prayed he couldn’t tell
it was fake.
“What happened to the last one? He didn’t last very long,
did he?” Pa started washing his hands with the bar of homemade soap she kept in
a dish on the shelf. “Don’t understand why that church can’t keep a pastor.
Someone musta run him off.”
Mary couldn’t keep from huffing out a breath this time.
“I told you about that, too.” She clamped her lips closed before she asked the
question that often bounced around her mind. Why don’t you ever listen to
me? At seventeen, she was close enough to being an adult to be treated like
one, and she’d carried the load of a woman in this household for years.
“His wife died, and his father-in-law begged him to bring
the grandchildren closer to where they live, so he headed back to Ohio. Living in the same
community as their grandparents, he’d have a lot of help with the younger
ones.”
Mary had never known her own grandparents, none of them.
Not her mother’s parents. Not her father’s parents. Not the parents of whoever
gave birth to her. She didn’t wonder about any of them very often, but today,
her heart longed for someone who really loved her.
With bright red curly hair and fair skin that freckled
more every time she stepped into the sunlight, she didn’t resemble anyone in
this family that had adopted her as an infant. Since they were black Irish,
they all had dark hair and striking blue eyes, not like her murky green ones.
And none of them had ever wanted to know what she thought about anything ...
except her mother.
“Well, I’ve gotta lot to do today.” Her father reached
for the towel she’d made out of feed sacks. “You and the others go ahead. I
might come over that way at dinner time.”
No, you won’t. Mary had heard his statement often
enough to know he was trying to placate her so she would leave him alone. So
she would.
“Frances,
George, Bobby, come on. We don’t want to be late.” She shifted the handle of
the loaded basket to her other arm. “Frances, you grab the jug of spring
water. We might get thirsty.”
Her father’s icy blue eyes pierced her. “Pretty warm out
today. No sign of rain.”
“We’ll be picnicking in the field between the church and Willamette Falls. It’s cooler there, especially
under the trees with the breeze blowing across the water.” She started toward
the front door.
“Keep your eyes on the boys.” His harsh command followed
her. “Don’t let either of them fall into the river. They could drown. Water’s
fast right there.”
She nodded, but didn’t answer or look back at him. All he
cared about were those boys and getting them raised old enough to really help
with the farming. He already worked them harder than any of the neighbors did
their sons who were the same ages.
Six
long years ago her mother and older sisters contracted diphtheria when they
went to help Aunt Miriam and Uncle Leland settle in their house on a farm about
five miles from theirs. On the trip to Oregon,
one of them had contracted the dread disease and didn’t know it until after
they arrived. No one knew they were all dead until Pa went looking for Ma,
Carrie, and Annette a couple of days later. He saw the quarantine sign someone
nailed to a fencepost and didn’t go closer until he had help. When he came
home, he told Mary she would have to take over the keeping of the house. Six
long years ago.
When did my life become such a drudgery? Had it
ever been anything else? At least not since Ma died, which seemed like an
eternity ago.
***
Daniel Winthrop whistled while he dressed for church. He
looked forward with anticipation to the moment when he would lay eyes on Mary
Murray. Even her name had a musical ring to it.
He’d been waiting and planning what to say when he
approached her. Today he would start his subtle courting. With the situation at
the Murray
farm, he knew he would have his work cut out for him to convince her she could
start a life of her own with him. After he achieved that, he’d ask her father
for her hand.
Visions of coming home to her each night and building a
family together moved through his head like the slides of photographs in the
Holmes Stereopticon they had at home. He loved her already, but more than that,
he wanted to get her out of that house where she was loaded down with so much
work and responsibility.
Daniel had often gone with his mother when she bought
fresh produce from the Murrays.
So he knew what her life had been like since her mother died. Their families
came to Oregon
on the same wagon train so he’d known her all his life. He was only three years
older than she was, and he had watched her over the last few years as she
blossomed into a beautiful young woman.
Mary needed to be appreciated and cared for, and he was
just the man to do it.
“Daniel, we’re leaving soon.” His father’s voice prodded
him from his dreams.
With a final peek into the tall cheval glass, he
straightened his necktie before he headed out the door of his room. “I’m on my
way.”
He bounded down the stairs and took their picnic basket
from his mother. “Something really smells good.” He gave a loud sniff. “Do you
need me to test and make sure it’s all right?”
He welcomed her playful slap on his hand that crept toward
the cover on the basket. Her laughter reminded him of the chimes he had heard
in the larger church in Portland.
“Not a single bite until dinner.” Like a queen, she swept
out the door Father held open for her.
Their familiar ritual warmed his heart. He looked forward
to creating family rituals with Mary. Once more, he whistled as he headed
toward the brougham. Nothing could cloud his day.
When they pulled up to the Methodist Church,
his father guided the team toward the back where a large area paved with fine
gravel gave plenty of space for those who arrived in horse-drawn vehicles.
While Father helped Mother down from the open carriage, Daniel took the reins
and tied them to one of the hitching rails that outlined the space. He chose
the rail under a spreading black cottonwood tree, so the horses would be in the
shade while the family worshiped.
He scanned the lot, looking for the Murray wagon. Not there. Disappointed, he
stared at the ground. Please, God, let Mary come today.
Clopping hoofs and a jingling harness accompanied a wagon
taking too fast of a turn into the parking area. Daniel cut his eyes toward the
advancing disaster. Two of the wheels did indeed lift from the ground. Before
he could get a shout out of his mouth, he heard Mary’s sweet voice.
“Lean to the right, boys!”
George and Bobby, Mary’s brothers, scrambled across the
seat, followed by Frances.
The wagon wheels settled into the gravel, and Mary pulled on the reins.
“Easy. Settle down.” Even though she spoke to the horses,
he heard every word.
His heart that had almost leapt from his chest also
settled down when he realized she was no longer in danger. Thank You, Lord.
The wagon came to a standstill, and Mary put her dainty
hand to her chest and released a deep breath. The green cotton fabric, sprigged
with white flowers, looked good on her, setting off her red hair, pulled up
into a bunch on the top of her head. Without a hat or bonnet covering it, the
sun danced across the curls. He loved seeing the wisps frame her face. That’s
how he pictured her when he dreamed about their future.
Mary sat a moment without moving. She was probably scared
out of her wits. Where was her father? He should have been driving the wagon,
not her. How long had it been since the man had attended services? Daniel
couldn’t remember the last time. It was not a good thing for a man to neglect
his spiritual nature. He’d just have to pray harder for Mr. Murray.
Daniel hurried toward them. “Hi, Mary.”
She looked up, straight into his eyes, fear still flickering
in the back of her gaze. “Daniel. Good morning.” Her words came out riding on
short breaths.
He took hold of the bridle of the horse nearest him. “I
can hitch your team under the trees for you.”
After releasing another deep breath, Mary nodded. “Thank
you. I’d like that.” She turned toward her siblings. “Frances, you get the picnic basket,
and George, you carry the jug of water. Go find us a pew, perhaps near the back
of the sanctuary, and put the things under the bench. I’ll be right in.”
The younger children climbed out of the wagon and
followed their sister’s instructions. Mary watched them until they’d gone
around the side of the building toward the front. Then she stood up.
Before she could try to climb over the side, Daniel
hurried to help. He held out his hand to her. She stared at it, then looked at
his face.
“I’ll help you down.” He gave her his most beguiling
smile.
For the first time since she arrived, she smiled back,
and pink bled up her neck into her cheeks. Her blush went straight to his
heart. Oh, yes, he loved this woman.
Mary
slipped her slim fingers into his hand. Even through the white cotton gloves,
he felt the connection as warmth sparked up his arm like fireworks on
Independence Day. She glanced down, so she could see the step. When she
hesitated, he let go of her hand and both of his spanned her tiny waist. With a
deft swing, he had her on the ground in seconds. He wished he had the right to
pull her into an embrace. Wouldn’t that just set the tongues a-wagging? He
couldn’t do that to her. Mary needed to be cherished for the treasure she was.
And as far as Daniel could see, her father really didn’t treat her that way.
He watched her walk toward the front of the building,
enjoying the way her skirt swayed with each step, barely brushing the tops of
her black patent shoes. That is one beautiful woman. He turned back to
her team. Walking beside the horses, he led them toward the hitching rail where
his family’s brougham was parked. Her team would enjoy the shade just as much as
his would. As he crossed the lot, several other conveyances entered, and he
waved and exchanged greetings with each family.
The
church was the first one established in Oregon City.
At that time, it was the Methodist Mission but grew as the town did. Along the
way, members of this body had a great influence on what happened in the
burgeoning city. And that was still true today. His Winthrop ancestors, who settled nearby, had
been instrumental in both the growth of the church and of the town. He felt a
sense of pride at being a part of something that important, and he wanted to
increase the town’s assets, because he planned to raise his own family here.
Maybe establish a dynasty of his own, watching his sons and daughters, then his
grandchildren, prosper.
His woolgathering slowed the progress of tying the horses
to their spot. He needed to hurry so he wouldn’t miss the beginning of the
service. As he opened the front door, Mrs. Slidell struck the first chord on
the new Mason and Hamlin reed organ. The church had ordered the instrument from
the manufacturing plant in Buffalo,
New York. When it arrived only a
couple of weeks before, the music added a special feeling to the worship and
helped most people stay on the right tune better than the old piano did. He
hummed along with the introduction to “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” his
favorite hymn.
Glancing around the room, Daniel finally spied Mary and
her siblings sitting on the second pew from the back on the right side of the
aisle. He squared his shoulders and confidently approached the wooden bench. He
asked if he could sit with them, and she scooted over to make room. Just what
he wanted. He would be sitting right beside her.
Throughout the service, Daniel had a hard time keeping
his mind on the proceedings. Mary sat close enough for him to touch her if he
leaned a little to his right. He was so tempted to bump against her arm, but he
held back. He imagined clasping her hand in his and holding it for longer than
just a few seconds while helping her down from a conveyance or through a
doorway. Really wrapping his large fingers around hers and intertwining their
fingers. Just thinking about it caught his breath.
He whooshed it out, and she turned toward him, her eyes
widening with a question. After flashing a smile at her, he glanced up at
Reverend Horton. The man’s delivery was smooth and his words made a lot of
sense. He’d be a good pastor for them, but Daniel couldn’t keep a single word
of his message in his mind. Not while he could feel Mary’s presence with every
cell in his body.
Instead in his mind, he searched up and down the streets
of Oregon City, seeking a place to turn into a
home for him and his beloved. If the right house wasn’t for sale, he could
build her one. She could help him choose the design. That’s what he’d do. Build
her the home she’d always dreamed of. His heart squeezed with the knowledge of
what he planned to do. He could hardly keep the idea to himself. He hoped it
wouldn’t take too long for him to convince her that they should marry.
He’d even hire servants to help her manage their home.
Whatever her heart desired, he’d do everything he could to present her with all
she wanted. He only hoped it wouldn’t take too long. At twenty years old, he
was ready to move on to the next phase of his life ... with Mary by his side.
“Now let us bow our heads in prayer.” Reverend Horton
raised his hands to bless the whole congregation.
Daniel dropped his head toward his chest. How had the man
finished his sermon without Daniel noticing? Next Sunday, he’d have to listen
more closely. He really did want to get to know the new pastor and his family.
“Amen.” After the pastor pronounced the word, several
other men echoed it.
Daniel watched his father rise from the second pew near
the front on the left side of the aisle and take his place beside the new
preacher. He placed his arm across the man’s shoulders. “Dear friends, on your
behalf, I welcome our new pastor. Now let’s all meet his lovely family.” He
waved toward a woman sitting on the front pew. “Mrs. Horton?”
The woman stood and turned toward the congregation. She
was pretty, but not as young or as pretty as Mary.
“And,” Father’s voice boomed, “these are their children.”
Four stair-step youngsters stood beside their mother. The
tallest a boy, the next a girl, then another boy, and the shortest a cute
little girl. As if they had rehearsed it, they bowed toward the people in
unison.
Several women across the sanctuary oooed or aahed
before a loud round of applause broke out. The three oldest children gave
shy smiles, and the youngest tugged at her mother’s skirts. When Mrs. Horton
picked her up, the girl waved to the people, clearly enjoying the attention.
“I hope you all brought your blanket and picnic baskets.”
Father beamed at the crowd. “We’re
going to spread our food together. I believe there are plenty of sawhorse
tables set up near the building. And you can pick a spot under the trees to
settle for your meal. Just don’t forget to take the time to greet our new
ministerial family while you’re here.” Father led the Horton family down the
aisle and out the front door.
Daniel turned back toward Mary. “Perhaps you and your
brothers and sister could spread your blanket beside my family’s.”
A tiny smile graced Mary’s sweet mouth. “If you’re sure
your mother wouldn’t mind, I’d like that.”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure.” He stepped into the nearly empty
aisle and moved back to let Mary and her family precede him, and he quickly
followed behind.
His heartbeat accelerated just thinking about spending
special time with the object of his affections. Without thinking, he started
whistling a happy tune.
Mary glanced back at him. “I didn’t know you whistled.”
“Oh, yes. I’m a man of many talents.” His heart leapt at
the interest he read in her gaze. Thing were well on their way to working out
just the way he wanted them to.
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Mary's Blessing (McKenna's Daughters)
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