When Jason locked up the office—and Davis with it—for the night, it was still storming, but not so angrily as earlier. The wind buffeted him as he made his way up Main Street, and he made a side trip to stick his head out the gate and look down the line of wagons. Not that he could see all of them, but what he saw led him to believe they were all buttoned up tight.
He stopped at the school to see if Jenny or Miss Morton had tried to wait it out, but found the door locked.
He took the rest of the way home at a half-run, half-jog, and vaulted up onto the porch, clearing all three steps in handsome style. “Let’s see you beat that, Matt MacDonald!” he said happily. He was home, and nothing had exploded or burnt down or been ripped to shreds by a grizzly all day long!
But when Jason walked into the house, there was Abe Todd, sitting in his chair beside his fire, reading his copy of Outriders of the Lonesome Spread, the book he’d been parceling out to himself in little literary squirts so that it would last. It wasn’t exactly timeless literature, but it surely beat the alternative, which was nothing. Unless a wagon train came through carrying lots of books for sale—and they hardly ever did—he was stuck with wanted posters or the Bible. And he’d already read the Bible, cover to cover, five times.
Finally, Abe looked up from the book and said, “Well, how-do, Jason! The wind’s been bangin’ at the shutters so hard I didn’t even hear you come in!”
“No problem,” lied Jason, and forced a smile. “How you likin’ our weather?”
Abe arched a brow along with his own smile. “You’re a funny kid, Jason, I’ll give you that.” And then belatedly, he added, “Say, your sister asked me and Electa to dinner. Hope that’s okay with you.”
Jason’s sigh was audible. “Well, welcome, then! Blowin’ too hard for Miss Morton to ride home, I suppose?”
“That it was. Sounds like it still is, too.” Outside, the storm threw hailstones mixed with gravel and cactus bits at the house. Jason thought it was a miracle that it hadn’t upended the rainwater barrel. Then again, maybe it had. . . .
During supper, Jenny couldn’t stand to hold the news in any longer and announced Abe and Electa’s upcoming nuptials. Jason seemed taken aback, but in a good—and convincing—way, she thought. He was likely thinking that if they stayed on in Fury, he wouldn’t have to put up with Matt MacDonald any longer. She couldn’t have known how right she was.
Jenny was hoping they’d stay, too, but for reasons all her own. First, she in no way wanted the responsibility that would come with being the schoolmarm. And second, she really liked Miss Morton, and would miss her terribly if she were to leave.
Abe spoke up. “Well, now that we’re officially announced, I reckon I can give you this, Electa.” Smiling, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small black-and-gold box, worn at the corners.
“Your ma, she gave it to me to give to you. For the engagement.” He faced the box toward her and opened the lid.
Electa clapped both hands over her mouth and Jenny heard her say, “Oh, my word!”
Jenny couldn’t wait. She was up and out of her chair almost before Electa had finished her sentence. And when Jenny saw what was in the box, she, too, clapped her hands to her mouth. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before, and it was incredibly beautiful!
“Is somebody gonna tell me?” Jason asked.
Since both women were temporarily speechless, Abe said, “It’s Electa’s grandma’s wedding ring. They tell me it’s an honest-to-God emerald.”
“Ringed by little diamonds,” whispered Electa, “and set in the purest gold. Grandfather had it made for her when they were still in London.”
Jason had to look, and what he saw set even him back a few notches. The emerald was huge and a clear, clean green. He’d seen a few emeralds before, but they had all been cloudy or hazy, or what Shem Klein, the son of the town jeweler back home, had called “included.” As Jason recalled, Shem had told him that a good-sized, “clean” emerald was worth more than a diamond!
Well, this one was clean as a whistle.
“By Christ!” he whispered. “Electa, are you rich?”
He didn’t mean it to sound so crass, and he immediately joined the covered-mouth crowd, except that he was blushing, too. After a moment, he said, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Electa grinned. “I believe I had much the same reaction when Mama showed it to me for the first time. I was twenty, and out running errands with her—we were living in Baltimore, then—and she said she had to stop by the bank. When we got there, she brought out a little key and told the clerk she needed to open her safety deposit box. Of course, I had no idea what that was, back then. But I learned that day. Oh, goodness!” She raised her eyes and put a hand to her heart. “The wondrous things my parents kept there!”
“Like this?” Jenny said, her eyes still glued to the ring.
“Yes, like this,” Electa said. “Mama gave a beautiful ruby ring to my sister when she was wed, too.”
Jenny cocked her head. She hadn’t seen any such ring, and couldn’t imagine not wearing it if it were hers.
But Electa finished by saying, “The poor dear. They sold it, to outfit themselves for the trip to the West. And to pay off some old debts.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Jenny.
“A real shame,” said Jason.
“Hadn’t you best try it on? You know, see if it fits?” said Abe, who seemed not the least bit impressed by any of this ring lore.
“Oh, I know it fits,” Electa said. “It fits me perfectly and will do so forever, just like you’re going to, Abraham.”
With an audible sigh of delight, Jenny sank back into her own chair.
Jason was loathe to admit it, but he knew just how she felt.
21
“Look, Father Micah,” Jason said for practically the hundredth time, “I’m sorry, but I can’t have you erecting a church underneath a water tower, especially one that’s probably going to fall down or blow down if we have another storm like we did last night.”
“But you promised!”
“I know. But Salmon Kendall and the town fathers had already picked that spot for their tower.” Jason shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a blow.”
It had been a blow to him, as well. That damned Salmon! He already had his men clearing the site and laying out markers for the footings, which was why Father Micah had shown up this morning, mad as the proverbial hell. That was, if a Catholic priest could get that mad. Jason figured he probably could, but wouldn’t admit it in a million years.
Father Micah was staring at him.
“Would it be helpful if I were to find you another spot?”
Father Micah didn’t say, “It’s the least you can do, you bum,” but he looked like he was thinking it when at last he said, “Yes, thank you.”
At the moment, Davis was safely locked in his cell, sleeping, although Jason had to run and fetch the doc for him first thing. Well, he didn’t actually have to, but Davis’s moaning was distracting him from his work. So Morelli came and got him to take some kind of powder, and that knocked him out again. On his way out the door, Morelli said that Davis must have the constitution of an ox, for any other man with his wounds would be long dead.
Jason said, “C’mon with me, Father,” and locked the office door behind them. He was taking no chances with Davis again.
They walked down to the lot, then through it to the alley, then back up a few yards. Jason pointed to the two empty lots to his right. “Did you take a look at these?”
Father Micah nodded. “Yes, but I thought you said this would be the place for my living quarters and so on.”