Page 54 of The Promise of Jenny Jones

San Francisco was the largest city Jenny had ever set foot in.

There was opportunity here for a woman who didn’t shy from hard labor and wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

She didn’t look like that kind of woman now, wearing a trimmed hat and driving gloves and the rumpled skirt and jacket of her traveling ensemble, but soon she would.

She drew the wagon on a rise and narrowed her gaze on the frenzied activity occurring down below at the wharves, listening with half an ear to Graciela’s awed babble about the ocean.

The only thing Jenny knew about oceans and harbors was that wharf rats were always in short supply, and the pay would be enough to keep her alive.

Satisfied that at least she had a plan of sorts, she clicked her tongue at the mule and returned to the road cutting inland from the coast.

“When will we reach the ranch?” Graciela asked, lowering the dictionary she’d been reading aloud.

“I expect we’ll arrive tomorrow. Keep reading. And stop leaning on me.”

She rolled her eyes in affectionate exasperation when Graciela ignored the instruction not to lean. It remained a mystery as to the exact moment when she had turned into such a pudding. And a mystery as to how the kid knew it had happened.

“Jenny?” Graciela kept her gaze fixed on the dictionary. “I’m scared.”

The air ran out of her lungs, and her chest hurt for a moment before she dropped an arm around Graciela’s shoulders.

“Sooner than you believe it’s possible you’re going to feel like you’ve known your daddy and your grandma forever.

And they’re going to love you. Have you ever met anyone you couldn’t charm? ”

“I like it when you say nice things.” Tilting back her hat brim, the kid cast her a tiny grin. “Do I charm you?”

“Huh! Not very likely.” She laughed. “Well, maybe sometimes. But I’m a hard case. Your daddy and grandma Ellen will be pushovers for a manipulator like you. Remember that word?”

Graciela laid her cheek on Jenny’s shoulder. “What about Grandpa Barrancas?”

Jenny had also been thinking about Don Antonio.

None of her conclusions were fit for a child’s ears.

“For the moment, at least, you should probably just wait and see if he sends for you.” She glanced at the top of the kid’s hat.

“He might not, Graciela. He was mighty displeased with your mama, and that might extend to you. I wouldn’t set my hopes too high if I were you. ”

“When I get really scared about meeting all of them, I just pretend I’m you and think about what you would do.”

Jenny bit down on her back teeth and stared at the mule’s ears. “And what would that be?”

“You’d be polite and say por favor and gracias, but inside you wouldn’t give a cuss if they liked you or not.”

“Well, I guess that’s right,” she said, holding her gaze on the mule’s head. Her innards went to mush. “It doesn’t matter if anyone likes you as long as you like yourself. Yessir, that’s all that’s important. You find one good thing about yourself, and you hang on to that.”

“I have lots of good things.”

Jenny laughed. “Yes, you do, you little snot.” She tightened her arm around Graciela’s shoulders. “You’re smart and pretty and brave and loyal and you sew better than anyone I ever did see.”

“I don’t cry much anymore either. You forgot that. And you and me, we stopped cussing. That’s a good thing, too.”

“Oh Graciela.” She couldn’t speak for several minutes. “Tonight you’ll need to polish those boots and we’re going to wash your hair until it squeaks. Send our clothes out to be brushed and pressed.”

Graciela pressed her face against Jenny’s shoulder, and a light tremor rippled down her small body. “Jenny? They’re going to like me, aren’t they?”

“Honey girl, you hold your head high when we drive up to the ranch house. You just remember that you’re Marguarita Barrancas’s daughter, and your mama didn’t bow her head to anyone. And you don’t need to either. They should be worrying if you are going to like them. ”

Frowning, she glared at the road. If anyone dared to look askance at Graciela, Jenny would tear through the Sanders ranch like a tornado.

They arrived at the ranch shortly after noon the next day. Jenny hauled up on the reins in front of the gate. “Well,” she said quietly, “we’ve come a long way, but there it is.”

The main house sat back from the road about a quarter of a mile.

Ty had described the circular veranda, and she knew to expect two stories, but he hadn’t mentioned how large the house was.

The impressive size, coupled with a multitude of well-maintained outbuildings and stock pens, suggested the extent of the Sander’s prosperity.

Seeing the spread, she better understood why Robert had been unable to reject his inheritance.

And Ty’s rebellion now assumed larger significance.

“Smooth your skirt and sit up straight,” Jenny said absently, studying the layout.

Eucalyptus and cedar shaded the house, but the lush pastures were clear of trees and brush.

The cattle were fat and shiny. The Texans Jenny knew would have trampled their grandmothers to own a spread as green and picture-perfect as this.

Nervously, Graciela touched the gold locket pinned on her chest, then straightened her hat. “We look beautiful,” she stated in a shaky voice. “Do you have a clean hankie?”

“It’s still in my sleeve, right where you put it this morning.

” She gazed down into Graciela’s face, noting the smooth light brown skin and brilliant blue-green eyes, the abundance of dark hair pinned on her neck.

“You’re the loveliest little girl I ever knew or ever saw,” she said in a light, choking voice.

Their long journey together would end when the door of the ranch house opened. New people would enter Graciela’s life and swiftly become important to her. They would take Jenny’s place. When that door opened, another door would begin to close.

“Graciela?” she whispered.

But how could she say, “You are the child of my heart that I will never have, and I love you.” Was it fair to grab this precious child and hold her close when the time had come to let her go?

“What?”

“I just… nothing.” Clicking her tongue, she flapped the reins over the mule. “Kiss your daddy and your grandma Ellen even if they’re ugly as sin, hear me? And don’t go blabbing about Ty. Let me tell about him. And don’t ask about Don Antonio, not yet.”

No one came out to greet them, as no one expected a woman and a little girl. Jenny had to knock at the door, then ask a pleasant-looking Mexican woman if she might have a word with Ellen or Robert Sanders.

Though she had never met Ellen Sanders, she recognized Ty’s mother when she came to the door, smiling politely and wiping sugary hands in a white apron.

Ellen Sanders had the same blue-green eyes as Ty and Graciela, the same lean carriage.

Sun and weather had carved fine lines in her face, but so had character.

Jenny released a long breath. She liked this woman at once.

Drawing a deep breath, she pulled back her shoulders. “Mrs. Sanders? My name is Jenny Jones.” She waved a hand toward the small figure waiting anxiously on the wagon seat. “And that is Graciela Elena Barrancas y Sanders. Your granddaughter.”

“Graciela Elena,” Ellen whispered, staring. “Oh my God. Marguarita named the child after her mother and me.” Then she ran past Jenny, crying and laughing and shouting for Robert and a dozen others. “Maria! Ring the yard bell. Bring everyone! Quickly, quickly! My granddaughter has come home!”

In the melee that followed, Jenny was forgotten.

Bits and pieces of Jenny’s story emerged throughout a day of rejoicing tempered by sorrow.

Robert, enough like Ty that her heart ached at the sight of him, understood at once that Marguarita would not have sent Graciela alone if it were possible to accompany her.

Hearing his fears confirmed extinguished the light in his eyes.

When he learned that Ty, too, would not be coming home, he walked away from the celebration.

Ellen bore the news in stoic silence. “We’d hoped to end the feud with Don Antonio for the sake of Marguarita and the child. I don’t know if that will be possible now that a Barrancas has killed my son.”

“He might make it,” Jenny insisted stubbornly.

Ellen peered into her eyes, then walked toward the west pasture, where she stood for almost an hour before rejoining the impromptu barbecue in her granddaughter’s honor.

It was one of the longest days in Jenny’s memory.

She ate when she was handed a plate, drank buckets of lemonade, listened to a cowboy fiddler, exchanged polite conversation with people whose names she promptly forgot.

She remained in the background, watching Graciela until she understood from Graciela’s flushed excited expression that it was going to be all right.

With a child’s generosity, Graciela opened her heart to the new family, who were so obviously prepared to welcome and cherish her.

Jenny had no doubt that she witnessed the beginning of a strong and loving bond between grandmother and granddaughter.

Ellen Sanders had loved Graciela on sight.

Henceforth, Ellen would step into the breach.

She would serve as Graciela’s example and her champion.

Ellen would raise her, teach her, reprimand her, praise her, and love her.

She also hoped that, in time, Robert would love his daughter. Right now, Robert was deeply wounded, smothered by the death of dreams so recently resurrected. But eventually, she hoped he would draw close to the child who had proudly shown him the small portraits within the locket she wore.