JACK FELL DOWN
by Sidney McCabe
© 2000
CHAPTER 21
The moment Jack stepped off the boat her legs gave way completely.
Mrs Kendall caught her by the elbow before she fell to the ground. She
steadied her with an "Oops! Careful now!" Jack righted herself,
stiffening her knees up, and smiling gratefully at the woman. Mrs Kendall
smiled back. "Nine weeks, and you still never gained your sea legs."
Her accent was warm, friendly southern England. It reminded Jack of home.
"I'm no credit to the English, am I?" laughed Jack. "We'd
never have the reputation we do if they'd set *me* off to sea."
Olivia Kendall laughed. "Ah, you did well enough. Are you feeling
all right?" She put a hand to Jack's forehead.
"She looks a sight better than she has the past two months,"
said a voice.
Jack and Olivia turned to see Magnus striding toward them, the other passengers swarming off the ship around him. He was carrying as much luggage as he could manage, which, despite his tall, lanky frame, was considerable. Mr Kendall was just behind him. They stopped when they reached the two women. Magnus grinned. "The old fellow's managing all right, isn't he?" He gestured in the direction of his father, a man who looked not a day over forty.
Mr Kendall set the luggage down at their feet and tugged a lock of
Magnus's hair. "Not bad for an old fellow, eh, lad?" he bellowed
sarcastically at his son.
"Nathan, pipe down, for heaven's sake," Olivia said. "And
Magnus, don't encourage your father. We were discussing Jill's health
before you two interrupted," she finished briskly.
"Not quite so peaked anymore, is she?" Nathan studied Jack's
face and complexion. "She's got most of her color back already."
"I don't understand," said Jack, "I didn't have this problem
when I sailed the first time."
"Something certainly didn't agree with you," Olivia said. "You
were green morning, noon, and night. And it didn't help that you hardly
ate anything during the journey."
Jack was apologetic. "I know. I'm sorry. I should have eaten. But
nothing *tasted* good, Mrs Kendall. I just couldn't find the appetite
to eat a thing."
Olivia clucked. She was six years younger than her husband, and so beautiful
she looked as if she belonged in a painting -- and yet she could sound
as prim and matronly as any grandmother Jack had ever met. "Nonsense.
The food was actually quite good, especially considering we were at sea."
"Livvy, stop pestering her," Nathan broke in. "Can't you
see the poor girl's dead on her feet?"
"I feel better, but not by much," admitted Jack. "I do
feel a desperate longing to get down on my knees and kiss the ground,
though."
They laughed. "You're either a true Englishwoman at heart, or you're
just sick to death of sailing," Nathan said.
"A bit of both," she answered, which made them laugh again.
"And dying to go home."
Magnus beckoned for a carriage and the four of them climbed inside
while the footmen loaded their baggage. Jack sat beside Magnus in the
small cab, with his mother and father across from them. There was barely
room to breathe, let alone move, and Jack found herself crushed rather
closely to the young man beside her. He was a few years older than Jimmy,
taller and rangier, with pale blue eyes where Jimmy's were warm green,
and he smelled of cologne and shampoo instead of fresh air and leather
-- but if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could
pretend it was Jimmy next
to her instead of Magnus. It was the only thing that had made the past
nine weeks bearable: pretending Jimmy was nearby.
For the first fortnight of the journey, Jack had merely stayed alone
in her cabin, staring out to sea, playing with a deck of cards or reading
a book. Mostly she had thought of Jimmy. It was then that she began pretending.
She pretended that as she sat there by herself in the room, Jimmy was
about to join her at any moment; at dinner she pretended Jimmy had been
detained by a mail run and that she would be by her side the next night
at mealtime; at night, as she lay in bed, she pretended that Jimmy was
asleep next to her. She knew if she kept it up, she'd go mad before they
reached England, but
she couldn't seem to stop, she was so lonely for him. And then she had
met the Kendalls.
Actually, she had met Magnus first: standing at least a head taller
than the other men, with brown hair nearly as dark as her own and blue
eyes that would have reminded her of ice if they hadn't been so warm and
friendly. He had fine, clear features and a thin-lipped mouth full of
humor. He had been seated next to her at dinner one evening, and quickly
engaged her in conversation. Within minutes they found numerous things
in common: books, background, music. By the end of that week, she had
confided in Magnus the details of her life in America. He was genuinely
admiring at her tales of
the Pony Express. "What I wouldn't give to write your life story,"
he told her.
The remainder of the journey was spent in the Kendalls' company. Olivia
and Nathan had been given sparse details of Jack's life, and knew only
that she had been staying in America with friends and was going back home
to her parents. Magnus loved his parents, but also knew their shortcomings:
they would have been deeply disapproving of Jack's lifestyle, despite
the fact that it had been necessary for survival. Any girl who had left
her parents, dressed as a boy, taken a man's job, and lived among men
for the past few years would be frowned upon by the well-meaning couple.
All they knew was
that she was a dear, sweet girl, and they took her under their wing. Jack
was equally forthcoming with Magnus about her friends in the Express,
and described them all in lively detail till he felt he knew them as well
as she did. The only part of her life she kept from him was Jimmy, and
she guarded that secret closely to her heart, not out of fear, but out
of love.
Jimmy was *her* secret, her memory to comfort her during the lonely stretches of time that lay ahead. She didn't want to share him with anyone. Now, jostling alongside Magnus through the streets of Marchby, Jack felt the comforting pressure of his hand on her arm. Of late she had begun to suspect his feelings were perhaps growing to more than friendship. She tried to dismiss the thought as irrational, but could never quite shake it. She wasn't merely flattering herself: the look in his eyes was unmistakable. She often thought of her conversation with Lou, because Magnus was so like the man she'd always imagined falling in love with it was uncanny. A year ago if you had stood James Hickok and Magnus Kendall side by side in front of her and asked her which would she'd fancy marrying, she would have chosen Magnus without hesitation. Jimmy was intelligent and kind and handsome, but Magnus was the picture perfect ideal she had always envisioned.
Now, she thought wryly, even if you stood Mag and Jimmy side by side, she would see only Jimmy. She had heard the saying about opposites attracting, but it wasn't that she and Jimmy were opposites; in fact, they were quite similar -- reserved, thoughtful, cautious, laughing and crying at the same things. She sighed wistfully, but luckily could not be heard over the clatter of the horses' hooves against the road and the noises of the seaside town.
Home at last, and Jack couldn't stop thinking about all that she'd
left behind. Or the nausea that pitted her stomach, she realized a moment
later. She felt as if she were still at sea, the boat rocking to and fro
beneath her feet.
"You look pale again, dear." Mrs Kendall leaned forward to pat
Jack's hand.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Jack took a deep breath and the waves in her stomach subsided. "It
seems to come and go, Mrs Kendall. I'm all right now."
"You'll soon be right as rain," Mr Kendall assured her. "Just
give yourself time to settle back in."
Jack smiled weakly and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against
the wall of the carriage. This was a strange feeling compared to her days
in the Express, when she had been riding the horses that were now pulling
them through the streets.
The ride to her parents' new home in Haventhal was long, but Mr and Mrs
Kendall insisted that they make the trip that same day. They were eager
to reunite Jack with her mother and father. By nightfall Jack, tiring
easily of late, fell asleep against Magnus's shoulder, her head resting
by his neck. Magnus swelled with warm affection, looking down at the beautiful,
incredible creature next to him, wondering humbly if he could ever make
her care for him the way he had begun to care for her. She didn't say
so, but he
sensed that she was holding back feelings that she possibly shared. She
was shy, and he adored her for it. And he intended, now that they were
back in England, to court her properly, to reveal his feelings as any
proper man should.
They reached Haventhal later that evening. Mr and Mrs Kendall watched
the young pair with doting eyes. As the carriage arrived in front of the
Townsend's new home, Jack was jostled awake. She gazed upon the lovely,
two-story brownstone in the streetlight and drew her breath in. Mr Kendall
helped her out of the carriage and stood at a respectful distance. Jack
thanked him, making her way to the front door. She could hear noises within,
and through the window opened to the cool night breeze, she heard the
sound she had never dared hope to hear again: her mother's light, silvery
laughter
mixed with her the hearty sound of her father's loud chuckle. Jack raised
a hand to the door and pounded the silver handle against the door three
times, waiting. She pressed her hands to her stomach, gently touching
her belly, smiling a secret smile to herself.
She was home.
Chapter 1 ¤ Chapter 2 ¤ Chapter 3 ¤ Chapter 4 ¤ Chapter 5 ¤ Chapter 6 ¤ Chapter 7 ¤ Chapter 8 ¤ Chapter 9 ¤ Chapter 10 ¤ Chapter 11 ¤ Chapter 12 ¤ Chapter 13 ¤ Chapter 14 ¤ Chapter 15 ¤ Chapter 16 ¤ Chapter 17 ¤ Chapter 18 ¤ Chapter 19 ¤ Chapter 20 ¤ Chapter 21 ¤ Epilogue ¤