McKenzie (28 page)

“You’re right, Asa,” Zach said. “My pa said never to make a big deal out of the small things, so I didn’t. But this is a big thing.”

“Yes, it is,” Asa said. “And you have every right to be hurt and disappointed. But don’t you go nursing that broken heart too long. If you do, you might miss out on the gift the Lord has given you in McKenzie.”

“I just learned more than I ever wanted to know about marriage,” Jonah said, shaking his head.

“Ah, I’m glad you listened. Then, someday, when you get married and have an argument, I won’t have to repeat myself,” Asa said with a chuckle, then turned to Zach. “Let me pray with you, and then we all had better get some sleep,” he suggested. “Things always have a way of looking better in the morning. Pray that God will give you the courage to have a talk with McKenzie and work things out.”

Zach nodded and bowed his head while Asa led him and Jonah in prayer. Again, he’d been reminded of the blessing he had in friendship with Asa and Jonah. Now, if only his heart could be reminded of the blessing of his wife.

Ican’t believe you have to make your own meals. Where are the servants?” McKenzie’s mother asked her the next morning, when she came downstairs and found her daughter making breakfast preparations in the kitchen.

The last thing McKenzie felt like doing was arguing with her mother and justifying her lifestyle. She had left Rosemary and Asa’s late in the night, and sleep had eluded her at every turn.

“Rosemary helps most mornings,” McKenzie said, “but this is my home now, and one of my responsibilities is to prepare the meals.” She figured she wouldn’t need to prepare much of a meal, as it was unlikely that Zach would join them. She’d asked Rosemary if Davey could spend the day with her, and Jonah had agreed to take him over there earlier that morning, where he said he’d eat breakfast. So, the only people she needed to feed were Lawrence, her mother, and herself. Had it been left up to her, she would have declined food altogether for lack of interest and absence of appetite.

“Who drew those horrible little pictures hanging on the wall?” her mother asked, eyeing the portraits Davey had drawn.

“Those aren’t horrible little pictures, Mother; they’re precious portraits of our family, drawn by Davey. He’s five.” McKenzie found it difficult to hide her anger.

“Oh,” her mother said. “Well, he could use some art lessons, that’s certain. Surely, you are not going to leave them hanging there for guests to see?”

“Yes, Mother—yes, I am,” McKenzie said. She busied herself at the stove, praying that God would give her the ability to prepare a decent meal and endure her mother’s criticism in the meantime.

“Well, I pity you for having to live in such a humble abode,” her mother said. “The curtains are rather slipshod, and the walls look so bare. It’s quite a confining house, too. But, I suppose that’s a good thing, since there aren’t enough furnishings to fill a larger space.”

“Mother, would you please refrain from making unkind comments about my home?” McKenzie asked.

“Your home?” her mother screeched. “You would claim this as your home? What on earth for?”

“Because it is my home, and I’m proud of it. Zach built most of it himself. I sewed the ‘slipshod’ curtains, and Zach built this table and the rocking chairs by the fireplace. His good friend, Will, made the desk upstairs and helped Zach construct the staircase. Asa and Jonah helped with the front porch, and Zach designed and built the fireplace. I would say that this house was built with love.”

“Pish posh!” her mother exclaimed. “A house built with love? What love? Anyone can build a sorry excuse for a home, with or without love. Why, in Boston, only people suffering from poverty would ever lower themselves to live in such a modest dwelling. Tell me, don’t you miss your home in Boston? The ornate woodwork? The crystal chandeliers? The plentiful bookcases?”

“As a matter of fact, I sent you a letter not long ago asking if you would please mail me some of my early readers for Davey when he begins to read. It won’t be long now. He’ll start school next year.”

Her mother gasped. “You would want that boy to have your books? Well, I never!”

“Yes, Mother, I would like Davey to have my books. I love him very much—as if he were my own son.”

“Well, I have yet to receive the letter to which you allude.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. It was just recently that I sent it. If you had read it, you would have understood that I no longer view my life here as a jail sentence.” McKenzie checked the biscuits in the oven. It was unlikely that her mother would eat food prepared by her, anyway. Still, she announced, “Breakfast is just about ready,” hoping a change in subject would pacify the atmosphere a little.

“If you’re making breakfast on my account, I’ll decline,” said her mother. “I’m not hungry in the least.”

“You might be hungry later, and what about Lawrence?” McKenzie asked.

“Lawrence has gone for a walk, and I’m not hungry.”

“Fine, then,” McKenzie said. She turned toward the oven and refused to let the tears fall. Instead, she pretended that what had occurred in the past twelve hours hadn’t really happened. For a minute, she willed her creative mind to take her back to a time when husbands and mothers weren’t an issue. But her attempts to stay there were futile.

“We’ll leave here as soon as Lawrence returns. Are you packed?” her mother asked, interrupting McKenzie’s thoughts.

“I’m not going back to Boston with you, Mother,” McKenzie said, taking the biscuits from the oven and setting them on top of the stove.

“What do you mean, you’re not going back to Boston with me?” her mother asked. “You wrote to tell me that your life was miserable. Surely, you don’t desire to stay! Zach is powerless to keep you here. If necessary, I’ll have Lawrence fetch the town sheriff.”

“I’m not returning to Boston because I am not really miserable.”

“What? But you said—”

“Yes, I said I was miserable, but that is no longer the case. I tried to tell you this, Mother, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“Well, I’m listening now. You need to make your choice, McKenzie. I won’t be coming back again to rescue you. Either you leave with me today, or you stay here forever.”

“If Zach will have me, I’m going to stay.” McKenzie wondered if reconciliation with Zach were truly possible. After all the pain she’d caused him, she doubted it.

“If Zach will have you? Whatever are you talking about?”

“Mother, I’m sorry you traveled all the way out here. You really needn’t have,” said McKenzie. “Now, Zach knows the truth about my awful motives for marrying him in the first place, and he’s been deeply hurt. I hope I can convince him that my heart has changed.”

“When I received your letter, I knew something needed to be done to remedy the situation. You must understand, McKenzie, that I am only trying to protect you.”

“I’m so thankful for that, Mother. But, the truth is, I never should have written that letter. I was in a miserable state of mind when I wrote it, and, at the time, I wanted nothing more than to return to Boston. The things I wrote were not all true.”

“So, you lied?” Her mother looked aghast. “I thought your father and I brought you up better than that.”

“You did, Mother. They weren’t complete lies, more like exaggerations of the truth. Zach never made any ‘ridiculous demands’ on me; I was simply averse to doing basic household chores. I claimed he treated me unkindly because I was angry at him for giving me a foal for my wedding present, when what I really wanted was a fancy armoire. I wasn’t really poverty-stricken, although, after years spent living in our home in Boston, Zach’s home felt like a rather crude structure. Those things I said in the letter—they weren’t valid or fair. Zach has never been unkind to me. He’s never made cruel demands or treated me harshly. He’s never reacted to my selfishness in the way I deserved.”

“So, are you telling me that Zach is not a cruel, abusive husband?”

“Exactly, Mother. He’s the most godly, sensitive, kind, and thoughtful man I’ve ever met.”

“I can’t imagine how you can think that about someone who lives in such primitive conditions. What could he possibly have to offer you, McKenzie?”

“It’s not about what he has to offer me, Mother. You see, I’ve changed over the past three months. I’m a different person now from when I first set foot in the town of Pine Haven.”

“Well, from what I can see, the changes you have made are far from positive. Your appearance is unkempt, your manners lacking, and your common sense nil.”

“I’m talking about changes in character, personality…and faith. I’ve come to realize that it isn’t about me and my own comfort. Zach has taught me so much, Mother. We spend almost every evening together, just he and I, sitting on the front porch, discussing our days, and reading God’s Word. Can you believe it? I always thought that the Bible was just a dusty, old book that we had to carry to church because everyone else did. But, when I began to open it regularly and study its pages, I found such treasures, such richness—truths I could apply to my own life, including the mundane, everyday aspects. For example, did you know that the Bible has a lot to say about marriage?”

“I’m not sure what all this gibberish about the Bible means, McKenzie. We raised you in a Christian home. You went to church with us every Sunday from the time you were an infant.”

“I know that, Mother, and I’m not placing blame. But we went to church—or, at least, I went to church—for purely social reasons. Sure, I heard some of what the reverend preached, but I never remembered it after I walked out the door after the service. Here, Reverend Eugene has a way of exploring the truths of the Bible that has stuck with me, day after day, in every facet of my life.”

“That’s all fine and well, McKenzie. I appreciate that you have grown closer to the Lord. We all have some distance to travel in that arena. Still, what about your appearance, your manners, your common sense? You act as though you are in love with this man you married for convenience’s sake.”

“I am in love with him, Mother. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to live here with him and wake up each morning with the anticipation of seeing him across the table at breakfast. I want to spend every evening with him on the porch. I want to be Davey’s mother.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense. How could you possibly be in love with a man you found through a newspaper advertisement? You hardly know him.”

“I know him well enough to be convinced that he is the one God had planned for me to marry. I don’t care anymore about marrying someone like Louis—some wealthy doctor or lawyer or banker. Money doesn’t hold the same sense of security or sway over me that it once did. To me, love is much more important.”

“Obviously, money no longer matters to you at all,” her mother said, glancing about the room. “You do realize, don’t you, that Zach can never provide for you in the way a man from a wealthy family could? You’ll miss out on social events, charitable balls, tea parties, carriage rides in the moonlight, elegant dresses and expensive jewelry, a large home with the most modern of conveniences…the list goes on and on. Are you willing to trade all that for this?” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Are you willing to disgrace the good Worthington name for the sake of what you believe to be love?”

“I am, Mother. But I won’t disgrace the Worthington name. I would be a fool to leave Zach. He loves me and cares for me. He has taught me so much about God, love, and life. I don’t need the social events and tea parties in Boston. I have potlucks after church and the quilting circle here. The women of Pine Haven befriended and accepted me more readily than any woman ever has before. Besides, I don’t need carriage rides in the moonlight. I have horseback rides in the mountains—the loveliest surroundings you could imagine. I don’t need elegant dresses and expensive jewelry. Instead, I have these functional calico dresses and Zach’s mother’s wedding ring. A large home with the most modern of conveniences—why, Mother? I have a home that Zach is willing to share with me, a home that I may decorate in any fashion I desire in order to make it my home, too. I have everything I could ever want here, Mother. It took me so long to see it. I fought it every day, thinking that I was too important, too superior and well-bred, to live here. I was too proud to marry a poor rancher.” McKenzie paused. “But I have the Lord and His unconditional love, Zach and his boundless devotion, the close friendship of those I’ve met in Pine Haven, and a son who calls me Ma. What more could I want?”

“Oh, yes, that little urchin of a boy who calls you Ma.” McKenzie’s mother rolled her eyes. “He’s not even yours. How could you ever truly love him?”

“I don’t know, Mother. I used to think I couldn’t, but, now, I know differently. He won my heart on the day we met, and I look forward to working together with Zach to raise him into the kind of man that would make God proud.”

“I simply cannot comprehend what love has to do with any of this,” her mother said. “All I hear you talk about is those who love you and those whom you love. I didn’t love your father when we were first married, and I doubt he loved me. It was just understood that, for the sake of social standing and money, our families would blend. The most logical choice was for me to marry your father to increase that wealth and ensure that it would continue for future generations. Granted, I grew to love your father in a friendly sort of way as the years passed, and I’d never trade him for another husband. But this love you speak of is so foreign to me—and to most people living in the real world, McKenzie. I’m afraid you have your head in the clouds, and when you wake up to reality, it will not be pleasant.”

“It’s the kind of love you can have only when you realize the kind of love the Lord has for you,” McKenzie said. “I don’t really understand it completely yet, but it’s more than just a feeling. It’s deeper than that. Right now, Zach is angry with me, and I’m not sure whether he will be able to forgive me. He might even send me away.” McKenzie bit her lip. “And—and I couldn’t bear that.”

“I suppose I don’t understand why you think you need Zach’s forgiveness,” her mother said, frowning. “Surely, you’ve done nothing wrong.”