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Meghan's Choice

By Donna L.H. Smith

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Saint Louis, Missouri
March 1871

“Meghan, we need to talk.”
Meghan Gallagher turned to face Captain John Calvin, the man she’d been courting since completing finishing school. Her skin tingled. Maybe he’ll ask me to marry him. They walked arm-in-arm along a path parallel to the west bank of the Mississippi River. It was a beautiful moonlit evening, unseasonably warm for early March.
“Yes, John?” Her heart pounded.
He stopped and took her hands in his. Surely he would ask her now. “We’ve been courting for six months, but there’s something I need to tell you. There won’t be any St. Louis post of the U.S. Cavalry. I’m returning to duty tomorrow.”
She let go, taking a step back. “Why? What happened? I thought it was all arranged.”
“Meghan, you know I’m fond of you.” His warm, brown eyes were sincere, not harsh, but not full of love, as they should be.
She dug her fingernails into her palms. “I thought you loved me. You know I love you.”
“I never said that. I––I have great affection for you. You’re a dear friend. I’ve enjoyed your company.” He turned away.
“But, I thought…”
A couple, arm-in-arm, walked by. Meghan stood like a statue. She forced herself to move and put a hand on his arm to turn him around, but he didn’t budge.
“John, what’s going on?”
He turned slowly to face her, his face like stone. “I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to say this. I don’t love you. Why did you think I would propose marriage? I’m returning to Fort Davidson tomorrow.”
Meghan’s eyes misted and she blinked quickly. “You mean… You never had any intention of marrying me? Have you been toying with me? I love you, Captain John Calvin. We had an understanding. You were going to resign your commission, and go into business with your friend. Was that all a lie?”
He shook his head. “In the beginning, I thought maybe we had something. We talked, shared wild dreams and let our imaginations run away with us. Apparently, you took that seriously. I didn’t.” He put a hand on her arm. Did he think to assuage the pain he inflicted? “I love the military and will never give up my commission. I’ve worked too hard for it. The army assigned me to St. Louis for temporary duty for research into re-establishment of a local office. Otherwise we would never have met.”
“I don’t understand, John. I thought we would…” A tear escaped. She wiped it away, her strength draining. How could this be happening?
“No, you’ve never understood me. You’re trying to force me to marry you, wanting to make me feel guilty. That won’t work. I don’t love you––in that way.” He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, holding her at arm’s length.
“I am not manipulating you!” Meghan turned away. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks. What would she do now? She loved him. He was leaving.
After a moment of silence, she whirled around. “Captain John Calvin, you have hurt me more than anyone.” Biting her lip, she held back what she really wanted to say. You disreputable, dishonorable heart-breaker. “Please, take me home.” She stomped toward the carriage.
The silent ride was torment. Inside, her heart was raging. As he helped her out of the carriage, John tried to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away, not trusting herself to look him in the eye. Her fragile control would certainly dissolve.
“Meghan, you do understand, don’t you? I––I’m sorry. Please believe me. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She ran toward the house. Every inch seemed like a foot. Another tear escaped, starting a fresh flood. She held her breath as long as she could. Then she didn’t care. The tears couldn’t be stopped. She wiped her cheeks, dampening her gloves, which then slipped on the doorknob. She finally grabbed it with both hands, turning it with more force than necessary, desperate to escape the wonderful dream that had just turned into a nightmare.
Her heart ached.
***
The next day, she raised her fist to her mouth in an attempt to hold back tears. After a deep breath, she sat down to play at the baby grand in the drawing room. Playing the piano usually made her feel better. But not today. The tune from her fingers felt melancholy, even to her.
What would she do without John? He was captivating, with his blond curly hair and brown eyes. From the moment she met him last year, his dry humor endeared him to her. She laughed at his wit. He seemed so perfect. Her heart was broken. She’d cried nearly all night, finally falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the housekeeper come to her side. “Miss Gallagher, your father would like to see you in his study.” She peered closer. “Are you all right? You look pale.” No, she wasn’t. Would she ever be again?
“I’m all right, Belle. Tell him I’m coming.” She slid the key cover into place, and moved from the drawing room across the large foyer, stopping at the study door. What did Father want now? How could she hide this from him? It was so embarrassing, and painful.
Her father gestured for her to sit across from him. Her eyes locked on his old bank nameplate––Sanford “Ford” Gallagher, before observing him. What was wrong?
“Father, you look so serious. Is everything all right?”
He looked away. “There is something we need to talk about. I’ve given this a lot of thought.”
She made herself comfortable in his guest chair and waited, hoping he wasn’t going to lecture her about money again. Isn’t that what society girls did? Attend parties, court beaus, try to find a rich husband. She had an allowance and she spent it.
“Meghan, I’m at a loss to know what to do. You’ve been out of school a year, and haven’t shown the least bit of interest in taking charge of this household. If it weren’t for Belle and me … well…” he sighed, “you’re not a child, yet you still exhibit childish ways.”
Her bottom lip quivered. Wasn’t it enough she’d misunderstood Captain Calvin’s intentions and now had no other marriage prospects? Childish behavior? What did he mean?
Seeing him anew, his receding chestnut brown hairline was flecked with gray. His slightly overweight paunch grew from sitting behind a desk so long. He was getting older. She swallowed hard, hoping he wasn’t ill.
He leaned forward and his face softened. “Meghan, I have indulged you since your mother passed away seven years ago. You’ve spent a great deal of money you didn’t earn. Last month alone you purchased ten dresses and seven pairs of shoes, at a cost of over two hundred dollars. How can you possibly need that many clothes? You need to learn how to manage money, or when you do take charge of this house you’ll bankrupt me.”
He looked down a moment. “I’m going to do something very unconventional. But I feel the best way is for you to find a suitable position—as if I had no money at all to help you. I’ve given you the best education available. You have options, you could work with me at the bank, or be a teacher or governess. The choice is yours.”
“Father, please…” Her eyes misted.
“I’ve seen no progress in your maturation. Instead you pursued a pointless romance with Captain Calvin.”
“It wasn’t meaningless, Father.” She rose. “In fact, I thought he was going to propose last night, but…” Her lip quivered again. “Things got complicated.”
“I won’t permit marriage now, child. It wouldn’t last three months. You haven’t assumed your responsibilities to run this house or managed your money wisely. Work for one year. Then, if you two still want to marry, you may do so with my blessing.”
She bit a fingernail.
His eyes narrowed. “What happened between you two?”
She looked at the floor.
He came around the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. She sat still, needing his love and comfort.
“Meghan, you are a lovely young woman, sensitive and considerate. Work for one year. I believe it will change your life.”
A tear ran down her cheek. Her lips tightened, trying to hold back more tears.
“If he truly loves you, he’ll wait.” Father took her hand. They stood face to face. “Is that what happened? You expected him to propose to you, but he didn’t.” He lifted her chin, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Not only that, but…” Meghan felt her father’s intense gaze.
“Did he break it off with you?”
She nodded and sniffed. Taking her handkerchief out of her pocket, she blew her nose, then wadded the cloth into a ball. She detested feeling weak, wanting to appear strong and mature. Everything he said she was not.
“I’m truly sorry.” Father’s voice was soft, but resolute.
Meghan finally looked up. She saw kindness in his eyes, but knew his mind was set. Where could she find a job?
***
Later that night, Meghan considered her options. No, she wouldn’t work at the bank, too mundane. Teaching would be fine, but not as a governess. She’d visit her school in the morning and take the first job outside of St. Louis she could find.

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