The following six months were idyllic. Reed morphed into a smitten adolescent. To think he’d gone so long without falling in love.
Edward pretended to be Reed’s confidential clerk while they pretended to be business associates. It was only natural for a man’s assistant to accompany him on business trips out of town, to long lunches at the club, and to work late at the office, wasn’t it? They went on directly in front of everyone’s eyes. Reed was astounded that they were able to get away with it.
Edward had even mentioned that the two of them could run away together. I’m relocating to California to begin a new life. Reed could relinquish all of his duties, including Margaret and her children, his business, and his vast home and grounds! Sure, he’d put forth the effort to get these things, but did he really desire them? Isn’t it true that he desired independence instead?
Reed had worked hard his entire life, hoping to escape the squalor of his boyhood. Despite this, he was unable to chose freedom. It didn’t appear to be real. It appeared to be a trick of the light. And he couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning his family. It was something he couldn’t convey to Edward, who didn’t have any family.
Edward reprimanded him, saying, “You’re frightened to be joyful.” You don’t have faith in me.
But Edward was mistaken. Reed had faith in him. There is far too much. That was the source of all the problems. REED WAS UNABLE TO FORESEE WHAT WAS TO COME IN THE FUTURE AT THE TIME. The gradual annoyances that would develop between them. McGee’s searing and irrepressible jealousy, the suspicion that his emotions had been transferred to other men. Reed was also unaware of the accounts at the time. It would be several years before Fitzwilliams began pointing out the inconsistencies, claiming that there could be only one explanation: Edward had been stealing from them for years, discreetly and persistently.
How could Reed have known that when he confronted McGee later, he would threaten to tell the entire world what had happened between them and demand hush money? —a substantial chunk of money right away, plus a recurring annuity on top of that? That McGee’s demands would put him in jeopardy, leaving Reed with little choice but to quit Springfield?
How could Reed have known that the Donners’ westward journey would spare his life?
Of course, he couldn’t have known. He couldn’t possibly have been aware of any of it. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference if he had. Because the slant in Edward’s smile had snagged like a fishing hook in his heart. Reed was certain that the loneliness in Edward’s dark eyes had been genuine. It had drawn him in, mimicked his thoughts, and rendered him powerless. The boy’s touch had resurrected him. There was no way to avoid it. What would happen if When Mary Graves first saw the rider in the distance, she mistakenly thought it was a long shadow. They’d left the arid basin the day before; the last hundred miles of the journey had been a lengthy uphill climb, and they’d came up over the crest to see a valley of sweet-scented, pale green pine grass, which nearly made Mary cry. For firewood, there were pine trees to be split. And there’s a river: shallow yet vast, with a dazzling display of light.
Mary saw the shadow lengthen and emerge on the horizon: a horse, the colour of Charles Stanton’s mare, liver chestnut. Her father lifted his head and put his hand to his eyes as he walked beside the oxen with a switch. He only said, “He’s back.”
Salvador and Luis, two young Indian males, accompanied Stanton. The Murphys, Graveses, Reeds, and Fosters sped up on him; the other families had gotten ahead of them on the route. As he unstrapped his presents, the youngsters came running, hearing joyous yells and laughter for the first time on the waggon train. As they rushed for his supplies, Stanton smiled at everyone and tried to calm them down.
And yet, Mary, who had begun to dream of his return, to conceive of him as a touchstone of reality rather than a figure of mystery or a saviour—someone she could trust, perhaps the only person she could trust— Mary, who had so often looked up to see a floating mirage in the distance and had her heart spring at the sight of him, was now too afraid to approach him and instead hung back.
“Everyone is on the verge of starvation,” Lavinah’s son-in-law Bill Foster stated simply. However, it had to be obvious. Mary saw him as Stanton must have seen him: a scarecrow in clothes that were now too big for him, with a bloused waist and skin-thin arms, and pants held up by a length of rope.
“Up the trail, I ran into the Breens and Eddys. Stanton added, “They informed me how horrible things have gotten.” “However, I’ve returned with enough supplies to keep us going for a long.”