Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters) (19 page)

Maggie straightened. “Well, I have memories of happy times in the past, but for the last few years, Flor . . . Mother has really tried to change me a lot. That makes me think there was something wrong with my real mother. Or why else would she not want me to be myself?”

Agatha patted her hand. “The last few years a child is at home are always difficult for a mother.” She turned a distant stare toward the window. “She wants to hold on so tightly just at the time she needs to start letting go.”

Maggie heard the conviction in her grandmother’s words.

Agatha clasped her hands in her lap and gazed down at them. “When your mother and Joshua decided to move west, my heart was broken. Their last months here were not pleasant, because I could not give them my blessing before they left. And now your mother appears to be doing the same to you.” She sighed. “Remember, Maggie, your mother is only human. She may have wanted you so badly to be her own baby that she never wanted to even think about your adoption. I’m not saying what she did was right, but I do know she must have a deep mother’s love for you. And now that mother’s love is trying to hold on so tight that it’s in danger of smothering you.”

Maggie nodded, trying to absorb her grandmother’s words, trying to understand the hurts and secrets of a woman she’d always known as only “Mother.”

Agatha took charge again. “Obviously you can’t stay here with this issue unresolved between you. I do think you need to return home and talk to your parents face-to-face about what you’ve discovered. The discussion will help both of you to see each other as God’s children, created by Him for a special purpose, and that will help your mother to loosen her grip a bit. My offer to you still stands, but first, go be reconciled with your mother.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Agatha opened her arms, and Maggie went to her, letting herself be enfolded. Her grandmother drew her closer and began to rock back and forth. She crooned a nameless tune and rubbed Maggie’s back. How soothing it felt. She didn’t even try to stop the tears that cascaded from her eyes. Tears of relief, that she had someone to share her burden. Tears of fear, of not knowing what would happen next. And tears of joy, feeling the unconditional love of this amazing woman . . . her grandmother.

Chapter 19

Charles chuckled as he descended from the coach and helped Georgia alight. He’d enjoyed this shopping excursion with Tucker and Shirley. They each had a quick wit. Shirley didn’t let any of the merchants cheat her on anything she purchased. The coach held several wooden crates of foodstuffs along with more than one tow sack. She must plan on feeding an army. Charles knew he, Georgia, and Maggie wouldn’t be there long enough to consume all this food. After he assisted Georgia, she headed into the house, but he stayed to help Tucker carry in the boxes.

“Now you go on, Mr. Stanton. I’s gonna tote this stuff inside.” Tucker hoisted a crate onto his shoulder and picked up one of the burlap bags bulging with vegetables.

“I know you will.” Charles agreed but instead of following the man’s suggestion, he also carried a crate and a burlap bag as he headed toward the back door.

When the two men reached the kitchen and set their burdens on the table, the driver headed back outside. Charles crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the cabinet, watching Shirley make short work of emptying the wooden boxes.

Georgia was filling the teapot with hot water from the well in the stove. Then she dropped tea leaves inside and put the lid on so they would steep. Since the air had turned rather chilly while they were gone, tea sounded good to Charles, especially if it was accompanied by some of Shirley’s delicious cookies.

Georgia turned toward him and arched her brows. “Would you like cookies with your tea?”

“Sure.”

She went to the cabinet, took out an embossed tin, and placed a few cookies on a plate. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his slacks, glad that he and Georgia had found a way to interact without it being affected by his idiotic blunder. He couldn’t believe how cocky he had been, thinking that no woman was immune to his charm. He spent extra time with God every day since then trying to tame his foolish pride.

He viewed Georgia with new eyes now. “Today was interesting, wasn’t it?”

“I always enjoy being with Tucker and Shirley.” After checking the tea, she filled the cups and set them on the table before she settled onto one of the kitchen chairs. “When I was young, I often spent more time with them than Mother, especially if she had lots of orders.”

“Tucker said your mother and Maggie are here, but I don’t hear a sound. Do you think they’re taking naps?” He felt something wasn’t quite right and wondered where that feeling was coming from.

“Not my mother.” Georgia took a sip of the hot drink. “She has more energy than I do.” She held the plate of treats toward him. “Cookie?”

Charles shook his head. “I think I’ll see if I can find them. Maybe they would like to join us for tea.”

As he searched through the lower floor of the house, everything was quiet until he approached the parlor. Muffled crying and someone softly humming stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure whether he should go farther or not.
Lord
,
what do I do now?
When he didn’t feel compelled to leave, he approached the archway that opened into the formal room.

Agatha sat facing the archway, with her arms around Maggie. He wondered if her grandmother had uncovered Maggie’s secret.

Just then, a board under his foot squeaked. Agatha opened her eyes, her gaze homing in on him. She sat on the sofa with Maggie cradled against her chest. Without saying a word, he lifted his hands from his sides, palms out, and shot her a questioning look. He hoped she understood that he didn’t want to intrude where he wasn’t wanted. But deep in his heart, he hoped she wouldn’t turn him away. He clamped his teeth together and shoved his hands into his pockets before Agatha could notice how tense he was. When their hostess didn’t motion him to go away, he held his ground.

Agatha kissed Maggie on the top of her head, then she whispered words he couldn’t hear. After a moment, Maggie shook her head, eased away from her grandmother, and mopped the moisture from her face with a soggy hanky. He wanted to offer her his fresh handkerchief. Before he could reach for it, she turned watery eyes toward him.

•••

“It’s all right.” Maggie slowly rose to her feet and swayed slightly. “Come on in, Charles. You’re going to find out all this anyway, so it might as well be now.” She only hoped he would be as understanding as her grandmother had been. The warm glow of Agatha’s complete acceptance still lingered in her heart, and she felt as if she could face anything right now.

Charles went to the chair across the table from them and sat down. He crossed one leg over the other, but then let it fall, as if he was having a hard time getting comfortable. Then he breathed out a large whoosh of air. She had never seen him so hesitant before, and it was all because of her, she was sure. Maybe he had also noticed something was amiss with her.

She dropped back on the sofa and clasped her hands in her lap. Agatha glanced her way. “I’ll leave you two alone to sort this out, and go find Georgia. Is that all right with you, Maggie?”

“Yes.” Maggie gave a flat, dull answer.

“Charles, where is Georgia?” Agatha’s question sounded brisk, businesslike.

“In the kitchen.” Charles’s words held no clue as to how he felt right now. Maggie wished they did.

As Agatha walked away, he leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs and his hands clasped between his knees. On this trip, she’d seen him sit that way before when he was deep in thought.

“What’s going on, Maggie?” His gaze bore into hers.

His tender tone brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back. She needed to just tell him right out and get it over with. “A while before my birthday, I found out I’m not who I thought I was.”

At the bewildered expression on his face, she tried again. “I found a picture of a woman who is probably my mother. There’s also a paper from an Angus McKenna giving me to Joshua and Florence Caine.”
Please
,
please, understand and don’t make me go into all the details.
If she had to repeat everything, she’d melt into another puddle of tears.

“I see.”

“Do you? I’m afraid I don’t.”

Sleek and agile as a cat, he rose from the chair and started toward her. Then he stopped. “May I sit by you?”

She scooted the white chest away from the edge of the oval coffee table centered on the rug in front of the sofa. Then she patted the cushion beside her. His smile looked like the sun breaking forth from behind storm clouds as he slid down beside her. She felt drawn to him, but still apprehensive.

“I found her.” Agatha entered, followed by Georgia.

Her aunt pulled Maggie into an embrace. “Mother said something was wrong, but she didn’t go into details. Let me help you, Maggie.”

They all shifted so Georgia could sit on the other side of Maggie from Charles. With as few words as she could get by with, Maggie spread out the story and illustrated it with the paper and picture.

Georgia picked up the photograph and stared at it. “This looks just like you. She has to be your mother. But where is she?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Maggie’s breath stuttered.

“No matter what the paper says, it won’t change who you really are.”

Georgia’s strong words settled over her like a blanket, warming her to the very center of her being. Maggie wanted to wrap them around her like a cocoon and just stay protected there. But she knew everyone might not realize all the ramifications presented in the paper.

“I’m not sure why my parents never told me about this.” How could she express her feelings without making the others withdraw from her? That was the last thing in the world she wanted to happen.

“Perhaps they planned to and just hadn’t gotten around to it.” Her grandmother’s voice carried a note of hopefulness.

“They’ve had over eighteen years.” Maggie wished she could just grasp the hope presented and hold on. “I’m not so sure.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
What to say?
“Actually, the picture and paper were hidden rather well. I don’t think they expected anyone to find them. Especially not me.”

Charles rubbed his hand across his jaw. She heard the faint rasp of the stubble barely shadowing his face. “It’s hard to believe any parent would hide such information from their child.”

She heard a hint of judgment in his tone of voice and rushed to defend her parents. “I’m sure they did what they thought was best. Of course I won’t understand it entirely until I talk to them.”

Charles shook his head. “I had always thought of your father as the most honest, honorable man I knew.”

Just what she had feared was happening. The news had changed his view of her and her family—and even caused him to question the integrity of her father. She twisted her hands together until her knuckles hurt.

Georgia gently placed her hand over Maggie’s. “But the adoption doesn’t change who you really are.”

Maggie shifted to face her more squarely. “Doesn’t it? My mother’s name isn’t on the paper. What if she didn’t want me?” Once she started she couldn’t keep the words from tumbling out, no matter what damage they did. “What if she was a saloon girl, or worse? Wouldn’t that make a difference?”

Georgia grasped on to her hand and stared at her as if she could see straight into her soul. “No, it doesn’t. You are who God created you to be. The Bible says He knew each of us when we were in our mother’s wombs. He knit us together there. You were special to Him when He created you,
and
you’re special to Him right now.”

Maggie clung to her like a lifeline while her mind grasped the truth pouring into her spirit. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.” Conviction filled her aunt’s tone.

Agatha stirred in her chair. “Maybe He provided Joshua and Florence to redeem you from a different kind of life. That’s what God does. Redeem people.”

“And if I were the daughter of a fallen woman, would you still want to be my . . . family?” She couldn’t believe she had blurted those words at them.

Agatha stood before her. “I know who you really are. You are my beloved granddaughter. Nothing and no one can change that.”

Agatha and Georgia helped Maggie stand. They pulled her into a big hug with all three women winding their arms around each other. For the first time since she made the discovery, Maggie knew total acceptance. She basked in the love emanating from her aunt and true grandmother.

But she could not help but notice Charles, eyes distant, as he weighed this news of her and her father—his business partner. And she knew he struggled with the same question she did.

Could they ever trust her parents again?