Jenny's Wish Read online

  Jenny couldn’t begin to imagine why she cared so much. She’d only met the man once and, as nice and handsome as he was, she didn’t know him well enough to be worrying.

  When she woke after a night of intermittent sleep, the sun was not yet up. Jenny rose and set about collecting the firewood she would need to boil water, enjoying having something to do after so many hours of useless wondering.

  As she waited for the water to boil, Jenny set out the cups; two of them, for she had eagerly anticipated being joined by her new friend. But now, staring down at the two cups side by side on the grass, Jenny felt foolish. What had she been thinking? That he would have found that same little spark of attraction for her and be tripping over his own boots to get there so early in the morning?

  She sat down heavily on the grass and let out a great sigh.

  “As bad as all that, huh?” came a voice from behind her.

  She turned her head to see Arlon Hurst approaching with the first sign of the rising sun and smiled broadly—she couldn’t help it; she really was so pleased to see him again.

  “Good morning,” she said, feeling a little flustered. “Would you like some tea? The water will soon be boiled.”

  “Thank you,” he said and settled himself down on the grass next to her.

  She was relieved he hadn’t persisted in getting to the root of the great sigh she had given, but she saw him noticing the two cups and realized her mistake. Joanne Stanton was always telling her about not being too enthusiastic with men, and now she wished she’d actually listened. Unfortunately, Jenny had always assumed it hardly mattered in her world. The chances of her finding a man she felt at all enthusiastic about were slim after all. Or at least that was what she had thought.

  “It was another clear night last night. I laid out on the deck of the barge for a while.” He turned to smile at her, giving no sign that he thought anything amiss about the cups, nor any hint that he could see just how violently she was blushing.

  If nothing else, Arlon Hurst was certainly a gentleman.

  “It was beautiful,” Jenny said, feeling a little tongue-tied now.

  She had certainly not been tongue-tied the first time they had met. Perhaps it was two weeks of endless thoughts of the man coupled with the ridiculous notion that he would have known it. Jenny almost laughed—she was being so foolish.

  “I thought I could see The Bear, or at least I think that’s what it is. An old man who lived in a rundown shack near us when I was a kid in California used to tell me that’s what it was. But he’d not even had any schooling, so I don’t know how he knew it,” he said and stared at the water in the pot, the first signs of tiny bubbles making their way up to the surface.

  “Maybe someone told him when he was a kid and he decided to pass it on,” Jenny said and felt the relief as her face cooled down to a normal temperature. “It would be nice to think so.”

  “I think I like the idea that you can see it from anywhere in the northern hemisphere,” he went on and Jenny had an old recollection.

  “I remember being told that in the school room by Miss Hastings.” She blew out a breath. “I’d probably never have remembered that if you hadn’t said it.”

  “It’s nice to put it to the test, even if you know it’s true.”

  “How do you mean?” Forgetting her bout of shyness, Jenny shifted position on the grass so that she was facing him instead of being perched formally at his side.

  “Well, I could see The Bear from back home in California and I can see it from here in Oregon. I reckon I’d like to go to more places and look up at night to see The Bear looking back at me.” He grinned sheepishly and looked more handsome than ever. “Sounds silly, I guess.”

  “No, it sounds wonderful,” Jenny said openly. “I know what it is to want to move around, to travel. My whole life, all I ever wanted to do was go to Missouri or to New York.”

  “Why those two places?” His voice was deep for a man who was surely no older than she was.

  “Well, my mama is from Missouri and my daddy is from New York. They both came out west over the Oregon Trail. Not on the same year, that’s not how they met. Daddy was already in Oregon when my mama arrived.”

  “And so, you were born here in Oregon?”

  “Yes,” she said and grimaced.

  “You don’t like it?” He seemed so clearly interested that Jenny was inclined to continue.

  “I love Oregon, at least what I’ve seen of it.” She shrugged. “But honestly, that’s not much. My mama and daddy have a farm here and they don’t like me to go far. As I said last time, my house is only on the other side of the woods.” She looked down for a moment and when she looked back up, she found his bright blue eyes studying her intently. “Now I guess I sound silly.”

  “Not at all. You don’t always get a choice of where you go and what you see. I spent all my life in the same place until I came here.”

  “What changed?”

  “My mama died a few months ago and there was no longer any reason for me to stick around. We’d always lived in the same place near the coal mines because Mama could get work doing laundry.” He looked suddenly so sad that Jenny felt a wave of sympathy wash over her.

  Not only that, but she felt guilty, too. All night she had silently cursed her parents for their stifling care, most particularly her mother. Now, she tried to imagine not having them around anymore. What if her own mother had just died? She and Arlon were the same sort of age after all.

  “What about your daddy?” she asked, fearing the worst but knowing she must ask.

  “He died when I was a baby. I don’t even remember him.” He shrugged. “So, which is first? Missouri or New York?” He’d changed the subject for his own good, but it served her well, also. She felt suddenly awkward.

  “New York sounds more exciting, I guess. Missouri is all farms, just like here.”

  “And when are you going?”

  “When I’ve got a job and money of my own to pay for my passage. So never, I guess.”

  “You can’t say that; you never know what’s going to happen. If you assume, you’ll never make it, you’ve already been defeated. By yourself.” He laughed. “You have to keep hoping. You have to know in your heart that you’re going to go and that’s all there is to it.”

  “And what about you? Where would you go if you could choose anywhere?” Jenny could hardly believe she’d met a man who thought the same way she did.

  Most of the young men she met were already planning a future just a stone’s throw from where they were raised. Some of them not planning to go that far, given that they would inherit family land and businesses. And Jenny could understand it—the idea of taking the hand you’d been dealt, especially if it was favorable. But where would it leave her if she married such a man? She knew how it’d turn out. She would live out her life a stone’s throw from where she’d been raised or, worse still, staying on her daddy’s farm and running it with whatever husband she finally found. That was just about the hardest thought Jenny had ever had. She loved the farm and her family, but the idea of being trapped for the rest of her life made her shudder.

  “I want to see all of America!” he said and laughed loudly, snapping her out of her bleak vision of the future. “And even someplace else.”

  “Another country?”

  “Why not? If I can make my way out of California, why not just keep on going?” He was smiling so broadly she found it infectious.

  “Just land where you land?”

  “I reckon so.” He shrugged.

  Jenny’s attention was suddenly distracted by the boiling water spitting and splattering ferociously. She quickly set about making them both some tea and, despite her embarrassment over the two cups and her eagerness, she unpacked the breakfast she had brought with her—it was clearly enough for two.

  “You want something to eat?” she asked when she had laid out bread, cheese, and apples on a square of clean white cotton. “It’s not much.”

&nb
sp; “Thank you. That sure looks nice.” He took the tea from her and sipped at it before setting it down and accepting the bread and cheese she handed him.

  Jenny took some for herself and settled back down on the grass with him. This was wonderful. This was everything she had hoped for these last two weeks and more. She felt comfortable and Arlon Hurst was every bit as handsome as she remembered him. He was also even more interesting than she had imagined and if he, a young man who had never moved from the spot had got as far as Oregon, where would she be able to go? Finally, she felt as if there was a hope that she might one day realize her own little dreams.

  “So, where in the world would you go?” Jenny asked, waiting for tales of adventures yet to be had.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you sure he’s even going to be here?” Joanne asked, seemingly even more nervous than Jenny was.

  “He said he would be. As far as he knew, the barge wasn’t going to be heading south until tomorrow morning.”

  “I guess a lot can change in a day though, if you live on a barge and your boss decides to set sail.” Joanne winced as if she didn’t want to bring it up at all.

  “Set sail?” Jenny laughed heartily. “Honey, it’s a cargo barge, not the Mayflower!”

  “Oh, you know what I mean!” Joanne grinned. “Well, if he does come, he sure is in for a treat. You look beautiful, Jenny.”

  “Thank you.” Jenny smiled shyly.

  “I don’t think I ever saw you put this much effort in for the barn dance before. You must really, really like him.” Joanne had her customary teasing glint.

  “I really do. He’s only ever seen me looking kind of disheveled at the side of my little tent. I guess I wanted to go to some trouble.”

  “I can’t help thinking that this is going to get real serious, real quick.” Joanne looked excited again.

  “I don’t know.” Jenny shrugged. “I mean, he wants to see the world. He never said anything about taking someone with him.”

  “Someone? You mean a wife?” Joanne’s eyes were shining. “You’d have to marry him to run off with him like that.”

  “I think we’re both putting the cart in front of the horse here. Don’t forget, I’ve only seen him twice.” Jenny looked down at her dress and wondered if she’d gone to too much trouble and yet, worse still, maybe she hadn’t gone to enough.

  She was wearing a pale blue dress with tiny flowers embroidered into the fabric. It was her favorite and one she only wore once in a great while. It had a modest neckline, short sleeves, and pretty white lace at the cuffs and neckline. She wore two petticoats, both brilliant white with heavy frills which swished about her ankles, and her dark hair was scooped up neatly at the front and swaying in shiny waves down her back. And now that she was concentrating on her appearance, she felt self-conscious. Jenny began to feel like a young girl with a crush.

  “You look real nice, Jenny.” Arlon appeared so suddenly at her side that Jenny gasped. “Sorry, seems like I’m always busting in on you.” He laughed, his smile wide and appealing. “This is my friend from the barge, Ted Wallace.” He went on as a man of similar age closed the gap between them.

  “How do you do, Mr. Wallace,” Jenny said politely and smiled at the young man.

  “It sure is nice to finally meet you, Miss Swain,” Ted Wallace replied, and Jenny held her breath.

  Did that mean that Arlon had been talking to his friend about her? Maybe he talked to his friend just as she talked to Joanne.

  “Oh, and this is my best friend, Joanne Stanton,” she said, seeing Joanne’s look of amusement at having been forgotten for a moment or two; no doubt Jenny would hear more about it later.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Stanton,” Arlon said, and Joanne’s eyes lit up; clearly, she approved already.

  “Would you care for a drink, Jenny? I’ll go on up to the table and get you one.” Arlon lightly touched her arm.

  The tiny touch sent Jenny into a spin, it felt so new and wonderful. And Arlon looked very fine in his best clothes. He wore thick brown trousers with polished boots, a tan checkered shirt, and his thick blonde hair had been tamed a little. Not too much, she liked his thick and slightly unruly hair just as it was.

  Jenny turned to see that Joanne and Ted were already in conversation, with Joanne pointing across the dance floor and chattering happily. Jenny would have given anything for just an ounce of her dear friend’s confidence.

  “Thank you, yes, I’d like a drink, but just fruit punch please,” Jenny said and watched him disappear.

  He was a tall man, head and shoulders above a good number of the men in the barn, and there was a freshness about him which nobody else there could lay a claim to at all. Jenny laughed to herself, she knew she was being a little fanciful, but there was something in Arlon Hurst’s general air which spoke to her of life and all its wonderful possibilities. She laughed a little more when she thought of saying such a thing to Joanne; even her friend’s romantic soul would find that amusing and probably a bit silly.

  “Here you go.” Arlon returned, handing her the fruit punch; she noted with a certain amount of relief that he had chosen the fruit punch for himself also, not the liquor-filled version that was also available for the revelers.

  “Thank you, Arlon,” she said and took a sip of the punch immediately; her mouth was a little dry from the nervousness of the last hour.

  But that nervousness had gone now and, once again, she found herself completely at ease in the company of Arlon Hurst.

  “So, what did you do with yourself today?” he asked, forced to lean over and speak directly into her ear.

  The fiddlers had struck up a rather wild little tune, one which was always a crowd pleaser, and the crowd had shown their appreciation with whoops, shouts, and stomping feet. The sudden din had made conversation somewhat tricky.

  “I helped my daddy out some on the farm,” Jenny began. “Just pulling a few vegetables, that’s all.”

  “Pardon me?” he said loudly and grinned at her, wincing to indicate the noise all around them.

  “I pulled a few vegetables for my daddy out on the farm,” she repeated, this time leaning in to speak directly into his ear just as he had done to her.

  She could feel a warmth coming from the skin of his neck and could smell his mercifully fresh scent. He was a clean man, one who obviously cared about himself and made sure he never missed a day’s ablutions. In that, he was also not exactly like many of the other men in the town barn that night.

  “Did you have a good day?” he went on, his words breathed into her ear in a way which made her tingle.

  “I had a real nice day. It’s easy to have a nice day out on the farm when the sun is shining.” She laughed.

  “You like the farming life? You reckon you would be happy to settle that way?”

  “I do like the farm, yes, but I don’t want to stay there. I guess the idea of it frightens me.”

  “How come?” His bright eyes held hers; he was searching for the details of her personality—she was sure of it.

  “It’s not the farm itself, it’s being trapped in one place forever and never knowing what it is to look outside.”

  “You really are a traveler, aren’t you?” he said and the idea seemed to please him.

  “A traveler who has never been anywhere her whole life.” She smiled and felt a little embarrassed. “But if I’d get the chance to, I’d take it.”

  “I guess that is all any of us can do, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what you did. You saw a way to live differently and you aimed right at it. I’ve got to tell you, Arlon, I sure do admire that. It takes guts to be yourself, doesn’t it?”

  “I reckon it does. It was easier for me, there was no one left in the world to consider when I made my decision. There was nothing for me to stay in California for after my mama died so I just pulled up stakes and left.”

  “I am real sorry that your mother had to pass away before you could do what you wanted, Arlon. But I g
uess that is just responsibility, isn’t it? We can’t always just go where we want when we want, can we?”

  “I reckon it looks as if we are both making each other a little maudlin with this conversation.” He began to laugh. “What do you say we dance for a little while and try to cheer ourselves up a bit?” There was a rakishness to his smile as if this was just yet one more opportunity he had spied and seized upon. He wanted to dance with her, and this was his way of achieving it.

  “That sure would be nice.” She beamed at him; there was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to dance with the most handsome man in the whole barn. In all of Oregon, even.

  For a little while, they joined the other dancers and Jenny was amused to note that Joanne and Ted were already among them. They formed a part of the large group, switching partners and trying to keep in step with everyone else when they were each distracted by peering over at one another.

  After a while, however, Arlon managed to shepherd her away from the crowd until they were just dancing together. The music was still lively, and he twirled her this way and that as she giggled with delight. But although the music was somewhat fast and enthusiastic, now and again Arlon still managed to hold her close as if they were dancing to something much more sedate.

  Jenny could hardly believe that she felt so excited by their closeness and so at ease with him all the same time. It did not seem possible that the two things could exist side-by-side and yet they seemed to. And so, when he took her hand and led her away to the edge of the barn, Jenny was relaxed and without a hint of self-consciousness.

  “I sure have had a good time tonight, Jenny. I would be real pleased if you’d agree to see me again when I come back in two weeks.” He was still holding her hand even though they had come to rest by a number of deserted hay bales.

  “I would like that too, Arlon.”

  “You’ll be camped out by the riverbank again? I like seeing you like that in the early morning, sharing tea with you.”