Thirty-Three

 

The morning after Victor’s appearance, the four inhabitants of the house gathered for breakfast. Aunt Ella passed the bacon to Jennie and noted that the latter seemed pre-occupied.

“I have a lot to think about.”

“Such as Mr. Hornback?” Grandmother Stark was feeling well enough to join her husband, daughter, and granddaughter for the morning meal. “I understand he visited yesterday with serious matters to discuss.”

“That is something our Jennie may not wish to discuss, dear,” J.K. interjected.

“Thank you, Grandfather, for your recognition that I am unprepared to converse on the topic. Mr. Hornback caught me unaware of his intentions.”

“But Jennie,” Aunt Ella interrupted, “I have clearly observed your affection for Mr. Hornback and cannot imagine you not jumping at the chance to marry him.”

Jennie nibbled at a piece of bacon she held with her right thumb and forefinger. And did not reply.

“David informs me we should have a bumper crop of corn this year. Good thing, since last year did not bring in what we expected.” J. K.’s abrupt changing of the subject reiterated his granddaughter’s desire to keep her own counsel.

“Grandfather, after I wash the dishes, I was wondering if I might join you on your morning stroll. I promise to be hasty, as I know you wish to avoid the sun during the midday.”

Aunt Ella reached over to pat her niece’s hand.

“Jennie, don’t worry. I’m hoping you will forgive my prying and allow me to wash them today. Ma can keep me company while you and Pa go on that walk.”

Small talk occupied the little group during the remainder of the breakfast hour. Afterward, Grandfather Stark proffered his arm, and he and Jennie popped through the kitchen door and onto the path circling the farm upon which the old man often strode.

The two listened to bird songs, neither feeling compelled to break the silence for a while. By the time they reached the pond on the far side of the pasture, J. K. was winded.

“Good thing you made this bench, Grandpa. Time to rest a little.”

“I never considered I would need it as an old man. I built it for when anyone wanted to spend a few hours fishing. It does come in handy. Now, Jennie, is there something you wish to discuss?”

“Grandpa, you implied the other day that Father has been…foolish with regard to marriage. That was not your word for it, but the conclusion I drew from it was not to enter into the institution without due consideration.”

“That would indeed be my advice, of course. But with regard to your father, I spoke out of turn. I wish to encourage you to have a good relationship with him if you do not already. I cannot say I understand why he took up with Mrs. …well, it doesn’t matter. Please forgive the mutterings of an old man.” J. K. winked at his granddaughter.

Jennie did not press him to divulge about which married lady he was more concerned: the one with a marriage license but no marriage, or the one with a purported marriage, but no license. “Ha!” Jennie laughed out loud, unintentionally. Seeing the bewildered look on her grandfather’s face, she uttered, “Oh, I was not laughing at you, Grandfather. I was amused at a passing thought of no consequence. But,” Jennie hastily continued, not wishing to divulge her earlier musing, “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“When you and Grandma came to Missouri from back East, were you running to, or running from? Were you eager to have new opportunities, or were you escaping something in which you took no solace or pleasure?”

J. K. ignored the fish jumping out of the water, lost in thought. This was a question about which he had not thought in many years. Several decades, in fact.

“Mostly, to. I saw opportunities to build a good life here. I knew from working here for another family that the land was reasonably good, and at that time, it could be cheaply gotten. I grew up among hill folk who tended their farms and only got together for church. And times when needed, like for barn-building. So, I knew I preferred a more solitary life than if I had gone to a city as others did.”

“Your parents and siblings, did they not also see this opportunity?”

“My brother Will did.”

“The one who died after the war.”

“The same. My brother John mapped out how he would make his way in the world. He did not desire to travel far. Will, on the other hand, looked forward to adventures. Unfortunately, he thought fighting for the Union in the war would be one such way to see another part than western Maryland and southern Pennsylvania. Well, I guess he did, but at what cost?”

J.K. shook his head. He never talked about the Civil War, and Jennie figured she should not inquire.

“Jennie, now that I am considering your question more deeply, it would be truthful to say that I was motivated more by leaving behind me troublesome matters.” The old man rubbed his grizzled chin which had not that day felt a razor. “I suspect I understand some of your sentiments about your father. Leaving Columbia to come back here was a sensible thing.”

J.K. put his arm around his granddaughter and gave her a hug.

“It warms my heart that you find the farm to be a place to which you can always return. But,” he added, “why the question? Does this have anything to do with your father? Or with the visit by Mr. Hornback?”

“I’ve just been thinking, Grandpa. I don’t want to be running from anything. I don’t want to escape my father, for example, by moving to Chicago. I should strongly desire, at the very least, to be wherever my husband is, and if that is a distant city, I should love him so much, that pining for being back here would fade. I do not now have that unquestioning desire for Mr. Hornback.”

“Have you ever seriously considered marriage, Jennie? Your Aunt Ella told us once about Albert Heinz, that young man who visited here a few times.”

Jennie sighed. She had not predicted the conversation would take such a turn when she asked her question.

“I cared for him, Grandpa. But at the time he asked me…”

“What’s that? He asked for your hand?”

“In a way. We discussed marriage. He did not formally propose, but he asked me if I would go to China with him. I assumed he was talking of marriage. I told him I wanted to get my degree so I could be a proper teacher alongside him. This was two years ago. When he was about to finish his graduate work. He wanted to be a professor, you see, not just an instructor.”

Tears splashed Jennie’s cheeks. She tried to wipe them away without her grandfather noticing, but he offered her his handkerchief.

“He somehow misunderstood. Or maybe I did. Perhaps he did not feel for me anything other than as a friend who could help him. He knew I have spoken often about doing mission work.”

The tears flowed as she continued.

“Oh, Grandfather. Albert wrote me in June of last year, just a month before he married someone else. He

sent a postcard of the park near Francis Quadrangle, where we often strolled. He spoke of being very busy but absolutely nothing about getting married. Nor of his plans to immediately go to China. I learned about both from Victor Hornback in the fall when I began my senior year. I inquired about Albert’s absence from the trio he and Victor performed with. He knew that Albert was going to China, but did not learn of the marriage until Albert wrote him at Christmas.”

Jennie leaned over, her head buried in her grandfather’s chest. He stroked her hair and patted her arm. He was unaccustomed to crying women and struggled to find words of comfort.

“I am so sorry,” he murmured. “It appears you are still grieving over this.”

Jennie bolted upright. “But why?” She wiped away the remaining moistness as she raised her voice. “Why do I care now? He has gone far away, is married, and did not have the courage to tell me anything of his plans. What a fool I was, thinking he would wait just one more year for me!” Jennie picked up a stick and threw it into the pond.

“Or maybe I’m a fool for thinking he ever felt romantically about me. He was five years older, and maybe I was just a kid to him. But, wait…,” she turned and faced J. K., “Victor told me the girl he married was only nineteen!”

Jennie plunked down on the bench once more, her chin atop her right fist.

“I don’t know, Grandfather. Maybe one reason I am not jumping at the chance to marry Victor is that I want to ensure I am not misplacing any affection I had for Albert. I can see I need to let go of any heartbreak I felt. But I believe there should be adequate time before I take up with Victor.”

“Maybe Mr. Hornback could be a welcome distraction.”

“But Grandfather, he leaves for Chicago in two short months and will have little opportunity to see me in person before then if he stays in Columbia. And besides," she added, "I want to run to, and not away.”