Oregon City

Oregon City

Published by Kay Anne Sigourney at Smashwords

Copyright 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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OREGON CITY

by

Kay Anne Sigourney

There were days when it was harder than she imagined it would be—the cooking, the cleaning, the way they smiled at each other, the way they ran to each other at the end of the day, the way they just seemed to melt when they looked into each other’s eyes. It made her feel shut out and unwanted, and it gave her an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

But the rest of the time, when they weren’t shutting her out, she was able to convince herself that things were wonderful. She was able to convince herself that she was wrong. She hadn’t made a mistake, she would tell herself. Her life couldn’t really get much better. She’d met an extraordinary man on her trek to Oregon, and she was extraordinarily lucky that he’d chosen her to be part of his life.

Jim had come back in June, the summer after they’d reached Oregon. He’d come to see her at her father’s house where she was living with him and his new wife. She’d gone there after Christmas, after she’d broken her engagement to Tom Elliott, the oldest son of the Elliott family, with whom she’d lived when she taught at Pleasantville School. Considering the circumstances, Tom’s mother was not inclined to let her stay, nor did she want to. She’d had enough of men like Tom to last her a lifetime, and she wanted no more. She was happy to wait at her father’s house and wonder when Jim would come back. She didn’t wonder whether he would—he’d asked her to marry him back in December, once they’d patched things up, and she told him she would, eventually—so she knew it was only a matter of time. And he did come back, when school was over, and when he did, he had the baby with him.

He’d shaved, and she almost didn’t recognize him. He’d cut his hair, too, and he looked like a completely different man from the one she’d known on the trip to Oregon. Probably, she thought, he looked like the man he would have been if he’d stayed in St. Louis and become a lawyer instead of following in his father’s footsteps and taking off for the wilderness. He hadn’t changed on the inside, though. He still had the same spirit in him, the spirit of open-mindedness and readiness for adventure that she’d come to know so well during the trip, but now he had a child. They had a child.

This is Henry, he said, looking from the baby to her and then watching and waiting to hear what she would have to say.

She didn’t have to deliberate, and she wasn’t nervous or worried about what her proper response should be. Hello, Henry, she said, feeling her heart melt as she said it. She had always loved children, and Henry was no exception, even if he was her future husband’s illegitimate son by a woman of ill-repute who couldn’t even remember where she was from. She fleetingly hoped that Henry hadn’t inherited his mother’s mental deficiencies as she reached out and took his hand. How are you? You’re very cute, do you know that? she said, speaking to him in a soft voice, one she used on small children too young to speak. Henry looked solemn and a little scared, but that was normal. Everything was going to be different for him from now on, and it was going to take him a while to get used to things.

He was the spitting image of Jim except for his curly hair. He had the same fair skin and blond hair and deep blue eyes and the same solemn expression on his face that she’d come to find so comforting in Jim. She was already in love with him.

I can’t remember, Jim said to her then, after he’d kissed her and held her and looked at her like she was the only person in the world who was important to him—the last time he ever looked at her that way, she thought later, and all the while he was holding Henry. Did you say you would marry me?

Yes, she said, reaching out to touch his smooth white face. I said I would marry you, but not until I was ready.

His smile faded, and he looked uncertain. But things were different now, and he should be uncertain. He should wonder whether she’d really accept the situation now that it had come down to it. He looked at Henry, who was starting to squirm, and then turned back to her.

Are you ready now? he asked her, and she could tell he was afraid she would say no. She was almost tempted to say no, knowing that she would have to take on the care of a young child, a child who wasn’t much more than a year old, a child who wasn’t even hers, and give up her teaching career, and move to an unknown place, a place where Jim would be the only person she knew. But she just couldn’t say it. She was so completely captivated by him, and she felt responsible for him in an odd sort of way. He’d taken care of her on the trip to Oregon when she’d needed taking care of, but she’d taken care of him, too, in the end. She’d come to know him, as much as one person can know another, and she understood him. Not only that, but she’d always been afraid she’d never find anyone to love, and then suddenly, along came this man who had fallen in love with her.

She looked at Henry. Yes, she said. I’m ready.

She resigned her teaching job at the end of the school year. She’d never gone back to Tom’s house to get her book, the one Jim lent her, the pulp novel he’d bought in St. Louis, and she would never be able to get it back now. She was afraid to even try. Tom had made it very clear he wanted nothing more to do with her, and she didn’t want anything more to do with him. Luckily, Jim didn’t care about the book. She’d replace it with something much nicer when she got the chance.

Well, that’s good, Jim said, because I already spoke to the minister and reserved a time for this afternoon.

Her mouth fell open, and she put her hand on her chest and tried to think of something to say. He’d already arranged everything? She hadn’t even thought past meeting Henry. She hadn’t known that she would actually say yes until she saw him. Of course, Jim had rescued him from an impossible situation, and she could hardly turn him away after what he’d done. There weren’t many men who would do that.

All right, she said finally. Then she remembered what she was wearing. Her dress looked awful, and she didn’t have anything else she could wear. She was about to tell him that when he reached out and touched a piece of her hair that had come undone and fallen down to her shoulder.

You look fine, he said, smiling at her.

Except for my hair? she asked him, and they laughed. Her hair had gotten her into more trouble on the trip to Oregon. I can fix that easily enough. It’s the dress I can’t do anything about. She’d worry about that later, though. Come on over and saw hello, she said, and she took Jim’s hand and led him toward the house.

Jake and Josh were on their way back from the barn, and Josh came running over when he saw Henry. Who’s that? Who’s that?" he cried.

Josh, this is Mr. Michaud, Anne began, but he interrupted her.

I know, I know, he said, but who’s that?

How you doin’, Josh? Jim asked him, and before Josh could get a word in, he went on. This is Henry.

Josh looked at Henry quietly for a moment. Is he a baby?

Well, kind of, Jim said. He’s still a little guy. He can’t walk yet, but he will soon, as soon as he sees all you big guys running around.

By then Jake had reached them, and Anne took his hand, but he pulled away. He was nine, now, and way too big for things like that.

Jake, you remember Mr. Michaud? she said to him.

Yeah, I remember, Jake said, looking embarrassed. What’s he doing here?

Anne knew he was upset, thinking Jim had come to take her away, and of course he had, but she wasn’t about to get into that now. This is Henry, she said instead. She paused then, not really wanting to say what she had to say because she knew how it would make him feel. We’re going to get married later today.

So you’ll be going away, Jake said, and his voice sounded flat and unemotional, but she knew he was hiding what he felt. He didn’t want to see her leave again; she was the only mother he had. He was less than thrilled with their father’s new wife, who was something of a fussbudget and quite a talker to boot, not to mention the fact that she wasn’t his mother.

I’ll be going away, Anne said, but I’ll be able to come back and visit. I won’t be gone forever.

But Jake just turned away and went walking slowly toward the house. Josh was still looking at Henry curiously when Anne’s father appeared from behind the barn.

Jim! he called out, hurrying over and holding out his hand. Good to see you. What brings you back to these parts?

Jim switched Henry to his left arm so he could shake her father’s hand. I’m going to marry your daughter today. If that’s okay with you.

Well, if it’s okay with Annie, it’s okay with me, her father said. He looked happy, the way he had since he’d remarried, and Anne almost wished he could have done it sooner. Her mother had been lost on the Columbia River, and although they felt the loss in some respects, in others it had given them their freedom.

And how’s this little guy? her father asked, reaching out and taking Henry by the foot and shaking it. Henry didn’t protest, but he didn’t look too sure about things, either. Well, ain’t he a cutie? Come on in and meet my wife, he said, and they turned and walked with him to the house. You have time for something to eat before you get married?

Sure, Jim said, turning and smiling at her, and he took her hand as they walked toward the house. Her father didn’t ask who Henry was, of course, because he already knew. Anne had told him all about it, and he had said that it didn’t bother him if it didn’t bother her. What a refreshing change from how things used to be when her mother was alive. She could just imagine the fits her mother would have had upon finding out that her daughter was about to marry a man who’d fathered a child by another woman, a woman he wasn’t married to, and that Anne would have to help raise the child. But her mother wasn’t around anymore, and she would never again have to deal with her disdain and reproof.

Mrs. Beecher met them at the door of the house. Anne couldn’t help thinking of her as Mrs. Beecher even though she was Mrs. Sutton now. She was a lively woman about Anne’s height with a round bubbly face and a body that should have been round to match but wasn’t, probably because she used up so much energy being cheerful. She fussed over her father something awful, but he seemed to enjoy it.

Well, look at that beautiful little baby, she said. I almost said girl. She’s a girl, isn’t she, with all those beautiful curls?

Henry was still wearing an infant’s gown, so it was hard to tell whether he was a boy or a girl.

No, he’s a boy, Jim said. His name is Henry.

Well, isn’t he just the cutest thing, Mrs. Beecher said, stepping forward to take Henry’s hand. He looked at her warily, but he let her do it. Isn’t it just like boys, to get all the pretty hair? And the nice long eyelashes? Well, he sure is a sweetheart, she went on, smiling at Henry, and he actually looked like he might be ready to smile back. So are you back from your place up in the mountains? she asked Jim. You gonna stay here with us for a while?

No, he said cautiously. We’re going to get married this afternoon and then head back down south.

Well, I declare, Mrs. Beecher said. Well, then, y’all need to come in and have some dinner before you go off and do that. Where you gettin’ married?

In Oregon City, Jim said, and although Anne knew that was what he was going to say, she didn’t relish the thought of returning there, to where she’d discovered all of those things about Jim that she’d thought were so horrible at the time. But maybe getting married there would wipe out those bad memories and replace them with good ones.

Well, now, that ain’t far, Mrs. Beecher said. Hank, we can all go with ‘em this afternoon. You can take a little time off, she said, as though he’d already objected. They need someone to help ‘em celebrate.

Would you and your husband be so kind as to stand up for us? Jim asked her in his soft voice.

Why, sure, she said, smiling happily. We’ll be glad to, won’t we, Hank?

Sure, sure, her father said. We’ll all ride in the wagon. You can put your horses in the barn, he said to Jim. Jim had brought his wagon and two horses since he’d have to bring her and Henry back down south with him.

Thank you, Jim said. I’ll go put the horses away, he said, looking at her.

Let me take Henry for you, Anne said, reaching her arms out. She knew Jim had been waiting for her to ask him that. She wanted to be ready, though. She didn’t want to force herself on Henry, and she didn’t want him to be forced on her.

I’ll be right back, Jim said to Henry as he handed him over. Anne smiled at Henry, and he didn’t protest. At least they were off to a good start.

Now, you come on in, Mrs. Beecher said to them, smiling at Henry again. This is exciting, she went on. It ain’t every day we have a weddin’ in Pleasantville.

After dinner, they got ready to head out. Her father hitched up the wagon, and they took turns in the outhouse. While they were waiting for Mrs. Beecher, Jim pulled Anne aside. He looked unsure of himself for some reason, which was completely unlike him.

I think he . . . he said, looking at Henry.

She looked from him to Henry, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then she smelled it. He pooped, she said, and she started to laugh, but then she saw the look on Jim’s face. It was obvious he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it.

You need to change him, she said, still smiling. Do you have any diaper cloths?

No, he said. What are those?

She just looked at him, not surprised at all by his response. Why would a man like him know how to change a diaper? Meet me by the outhouse, she said. I’ll go get some. We’ll need to buy some more in Oregon City. Make sure you remind me to do that, because it’s not something we want to be without.

Thanks, he said, as he stood there looking sheepish. He was lucky he had her to take care of Henry. He was already turning out to be completely useless in that department.

She borrowed some unbleached muslin from Mrs. Beecher, promising to buy her more to replace it when they got to Oregon City, and cut it into squares that she thought would be the right size. She came out of the house and went to the well and pumped some water to clean Henry with. Jim was sitting on the ground on the side of the house, holding Henry, when she walked up with her supplies. She put down the bucket and laid a piece of muslin on the ground. Then she reached over and took Henry from him and laid him down on it, face up. She lifted the dressing gown and unpinned the dirty diaper and pulled it off. He’d made quite a mess, but at least it hadn’t gotten on his clothing. She cleaned him up as well as she could without wasting too much muslin and then started pinning the clean diaper on him. She looked up at Jim to see if he was watching, and to her surprise, he was.

Haven’t you done this before? she asked him, as she pinned Henry’s diaper.

No, he said. I only got him this morning.

She was surprised. She finished with the diaper and picked Henry up, then looked at Jim again. He’d been to Molly’s only that morning?

Lang wouldn’t let me bring him down with me, he said. Since there wouldn’t be anybody to watch him.

But now that you have someone to watch him, she thought, you can bring him along. But she didn’t want to think any further than that. She bounced Henry on her knee, concentrating on him, not wanting to think such thoughts on her wedding day. Jim must have seen the look on her face.

I shouldn’t have said that, he said. I would have gotten him sooner, but I would have gotten you sooner, too, except you wouldn’t come with me.

He was right—she wouldn’t go with him right away, but then again, she couldn’t. She had to finish out the school year, as unpleasant as it was having to see Tom’s brothers giving her dirty looks every day. Anyway, the longer she waited to marry him, the more certain she could be that she was making the right decision. The more she missed him, the more she knew that she was. Anyway, she knew that Jim had fallen in love with her before he even knew about Henry, so she knew he wasn’t marrying her just to have someone to take care of his child.

Well, it’s a good thing you have me, she said, as she handed Henry back to him. At least I can teach you how to change a diaper. Do you have a bag for this? she asked him, holding up the dirty diaper.

He looked at it doubtfully. I’ll go get something, she said. Mrs. Beecher probably had an extra bag she could lend them until they got to where they were going and could do some laundry.

Thank you, he called out after her as he gathered up Henry and the clean diapers.

Put those away now and get in the wagon, she called to him as she headed inside to look for Mrs. Beecher.

Yes, ma’am, he said, smiling at her and tipping his hat in mock deference. She smiled back at him, and her heart leapt with happiness that she was about to marry this incredibly beautiful man.

She knew she was taking on a lot. She knew what a handful a young child could be from having taken care of Jake and Josh. But she and Jim would be having their own children someday soon, anyway, so it hardly seemed to matter that they were starting their married life with a child. That was just the way life was.

She climbed into the back of the wagon, and Jim shut the tailgate behind her. Jake and Josh were back there, too, leaning against the sides, facing forward to see what there was to see. Jim leaned against the tailgate, holding Henry on his lap, and she sat next to him. Her father and Mrs. Beecher were sitting up front, and Anne was touched to see that her father had his arm around her. She was talking to him a mile a minute.

Jim lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, and she leaned against him. He kissed her head, or maybe it was her hair he was kissing—he’d always admired it—and then spoke to her, his warm breath coursing through her hair.

I’m lucky I found you, he said. She nestled her head more closely into his shoulder.

No, I’m lucky, she said. I never thought I’d find anyone half as interesting as you are.

Maybe I’m too interesting, he said, and she smiled. You still want to marry me?

Yes, she said, sitting back and looking at him. She didn’t want him to start feeling sorry for himself, but she saw that he was smiling, so she laid her head back down on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

He’s very quiet, she said, looking at Henry.

He’s still not sure about us yet. Who knows what he’s been through in that house. As long as we’re kind to him, he’ll open up and start acting like a little boy.

Did he cry when you took him?

No. He must have realized I was doing it for his own good.

Then he’s a smart little boy, she said. He looks like you, too.

He squeezed her shoulder and she could tell he was smiling. Do you think so?

Oh, definitely. It’s much easier to see since you shaved your beard.

He sat quietly for a moment, and Henry sat quietly, too, watching them and listening.

Maybe I should have shaved off my beard long ago, he said.

Why?

Maybe you would have noticed me a little sooner.

She opened her eyes but resisted the urge to look at him. It was just too comfortable, sitting there with him, with her head against his shoulder, as the wagon rocked its way to town.

I noticed you, she said. I just didn’t consider you worth getting to know, she said to herself. But it wasn’t quite that, exactly. It was just that she figured he wasn’t the type of man she should ever speak to, not to mention fall in love with. But she’d made that judgment based on his looks and nothing else. Once she got to know him, her opinion of him changed completely.

I bet you did, he said. You noticed that I was a mean, dirty, uneducated, no account scoundrel who wasn’t fit to lick your boots.

That’s not true! she lied. Of course, it was the exact truth. She thought he was a rough, unsavory character, and she’d been afraid of him at first.

Sure it is, he said.

I just didn’t know you.

You wouldn’t even look at me. I was head over heels in love with you, and you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence.

You’re exaggerating, she said. She didn’t remember things quite that way. She’d talked to him when she had to. He was the one who seemed to be afraid to talk to her. When he did, he kept his guard up, so even if she’d been one of those bright, bubbly girls like her sister Carrie she doubted whether she’d have been able to draw him out.

Were you really? she asked, raising her head now to look at him. Were you really head over heels in love with me?

Yeah, he said, nodding his head slowly, remembering.

When did you fall in love with me? she asked, laying her head back down on his shoulder. She’d had no idea that he felt that way until the end of the trip, and here he was, telling her it had begun so much earlier.

Oh, about the time Moon Bear stopped by and wanted to take you away, he said. I could see why. Made me wonder why I hadn’t noticed it before.

A shiver ran through her as she thought about the Indian who had come walking up to her one day in the middle of nowhere and grabbed her by the hair. Jim had come to her rescue that day, sitting Moon Bear down and talking him out of taking her away with him. She sighed and snuggled closer to him. She felt bad that she hadn’t known how he felt.

Is my hair really that nice? she asked him.

Sure it is, he said, but so are you. Anyway, I liked the fact that you trusted me even though you were scared half to death. I liked the fact that you were willing to put your life in my hands even though you obviously disliked me so intensely.

Ha! she said, as she punched him in the arm. Well, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner how you felt. I always liked you, though, from the first time I talked to you, that day it rained. You were nice to Jake and Josh, and you were nice to me. And you didn’t talk about yourself constantly. In fact, you didn’t talk about yourself at all. I had to ask you a bunch of questions, or I wouldn’t have found out anything.

Well, I’m glad you did, he said softly.

She smiled and raised her head to kiss his smooth, soft cheek.

The wedding was held in the only church in Oregon City, or at least what Anne thought was the only church. She wasn’t too eager to look around and risk catching a glimpse of the boardinghouse. The church was small, but they all managed to file inside, Anne’s father and Mrs. Beecher standing on either side of her and Jim.

Jim was holding Henry, but he turned to Mrs. Beecher and asked her to take him. Henry didn’t put up a fuss, but Anne did.

I can hold him, she said to Jim. After all, it seemed appropriate since Henry would be part of their lives now.

No, he said. This day is for you. For us. He took her hand and turned toward the minister, who was standing in front of them, looking for his place in the prayer book. She was grateful to Jim for saying that, and she could feel herself starting to cry.

Mrs. Beecher insisted on making them a wedding supper when they got back, and they didn’t want to turn it down after she and her father had been so kind to them. Anyway, they were tired and hungry, and it would take a day to get to where they were going, so they really couldn’t have started out late in the afternoon unless they had somewhere to stop on the way, and they didn’t. There wasn’t anywhere to stop between there and Bellemont, which Jim told her was French for beautiful mountain. So Jim said they should stay, and Anne was glad. It would give her one last night with her family before leaving for who knows how long—but hopefully not forever.

The meal was delicious, and it was wonderful sitting next to her new husband at the table, but everything that happened after that was a complete disaster. Henry started whimpering toward the end of the meal; he’d eaten well, but now he was obviously very tired. As soon as they’d had their coffee, Anne and Jim took him off to the barn to change him and put him to bed. After a bit of discussion, it had been decided that the newlyweds would sleep in the barn. There just wasn’t room for everyone in the house, and Anne didn’t feel comfortable displacing her father and his new wife, who were still newlyweds themselves.

By the time they got Henry to the barn, he was crying loudly, and after Anne changed his diaper—no poop this time, at least—he was screaming. She looked up at Jim in desperation, and he picked Henry up and walked him around the barn, bouncing him and jiggling him and trying to get him to calm down. It didn’t do much good, and pretty soon he was looking at Anne in desperation.

She took Henry and held him on her lap and tried rocking him. Initially, he quieted down