A Log Cabin Christmas (32 page)

Y
ou? You want me to marry you?” Adie’s eyes widened. “What kind of crazy idea is that?”

Noah wondered the same thing. “It’s not all that wild. Look, these men aren’t going to see another woman until March or April. Some of them might try …”

Her calm voice belied the touch of fervor behind her words. “I’ve been in logging camps around jacks much longer than you have. Don’t try to tell me what they’re like. I can take care of myself.”

Noah thumped himself down on the bench by the table. “I realize the idea might take some getting used to. I wasn’t fond of it when Mr. Larsen mentioned it. But it’s wise. If you came under my protection, as my wife, the men wouldn’t dare touch you.”

“This wasn’t your idea? Mr. Larsen suggested it?”

“It’s not that … I mean, you know, I wanted to. But I just didn’t …” He was tangling himself like a dog in a leash.

She sat next to him, rubbing her hands together. “I appreciate the thought. But I’m not going to marry you. Or anyone else. I’ll be fine. You’ll see.” She touched his arm, sending the words in his brain scrambling.

“It would be in name only. The marriage that is.” Noah hated the schoolgirl blush heating his face. “If that makes a difference.”

“I know you made a promise to my father, to take care of me.” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, even as she lifted her chin. “And you’re the kind of man who would never break a promise. You’re noble. If it makes you feel better, I hereby release you from your vow.”

Before Noah could say a word, she rose from his side and made her way to the kitchen, her skirts swishing at her ankles.

He sat there for a while running the palm of his hand over the rough wood of the bench, still warm from her body. While the idea of marrying her had sounded insane when Mr. Larsen first spoke of it, Noah knew now he had no other way of protecting her.

Cookie took one look at Adie when she returned to the kitchen and put down the potato he’d been peeling, but not his paring knife. “I seen Preacher Man out there talking to you. He giving you trouble?”

She cleared the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “No. He, well, he proposed to me, for my own protection. If I was his wife, none of the men would bother me anymore.”

“And? Are you gonna marry him?”

“No. Of course not. I have you to take care of me, don’t I?” She pointed to his hand, holding the knife.

This light jesting always brought a smile to Cookie’s face, but not now. “Might not be such a bad idea. I seen how Owens treats you. You can’t be too careful around him. I’d think on it again if I were you.”

She didn’t want to think about it. Or talk about it, for that matter. “I’ll finish the dishes and then help with the potatoes.”

“Preacher Man wouldn’t make a bad husband. He works real hard. I ain’t never heard him cuss or talk coarse or nothing. Later on you might regret passing him up.”

She was pretty sure she wouldn’t. All she wanted was a small piece of the world to call her own, a simple log cabin, a simple life.

She stuck her hands in the cooling water and got back to her dishes. She knew her father had watched over her. The jacks respected him.

She sloshed water all over the counter, the floor, and herself, not caring about the mess. Until Derek Owens came along, she’d never had problems with any of the men. There was the time a year or two ago when a jack slapped her backside as she came around with the coffeepot, but she’d steered clear of him from then on and had no more trouble. She’d do that for the rest of the winter, and once the thaw came and the logs were downriver at the mill, she’d leave. Perhaps she’d go to Green Bay or even Milwaukee, hire on as a maid there, and save her money. If she were careful, someday she’d have enough for her own farm.

She reached for another dish to wash and with relief realized she’d reached the end of the pile. Her present state of mind had helped her get through the chore at a rapid pace.

After wiping down the counters, she headed outside to dump the dirty dishwater and to pump more. The bright sun shining off the white snow hurt her eyes but did nothing to warm the air. A chill wind blew through the clearing.

Quiet permeated the camp. Even the blacksmith’s anvil remained still today. The jacks wouldn’t return from the woods for hours yet, not until dark began to fall. They ate their lunch outside. Sometimes they worked at a great distance from the camp, and coming in to eat would take too much time from their jobs.

Each evening she’d waited with anticipation for her father to file into themess hall for supper. He’d smile at her. The gesture comforted her. Someone in the world loved her.

The longing ache in her heart ripped open again. She missed Daddy. Her throat constricted. She dropped the dishwater pan on the snow and covered her face. Her breath came in gasps.

God, how could You do this to me? How could You take both Mama and Daddy from me? How could You? I’m all alone now. Do You hear me, God?

A boot crunching in the snow answered her.

A moment later, a rough hand slipped behind her neck. She ripped her hands from her eyes. Derek Owens leered at her from mere inches away. She backed up a few steps until she bumped into the log walls of the mess building. He came right after her, placed one hand on either side of her, palms against the wall, wrists against her shoulders.

He had her hemmed in.

“I’ve been waiting for this chance, Adie. You’re a hard one to catch, but I knew I’d get you sooner or later.”

Her palms began to sweat. Her heart thumped in panic. “What are you doing here in the middle of the morning?”

“I volunteered to tell Cookie we shot a deer. He needs to come skin it so we can have some good eatin’ tonight. What a bonus to find you here by yourself.” He touched her cheek with his rough hand.

She recoiled at his touch, trying to think of a way to escape. Maybe if she slipped under his arms and ran faster than she ever had, she could get back safely inside.

Derek spat a stream of tobacco juice into the snow, wiping his mouth on his shoulder. He leaned in, planting a hard, heavy kiss on Adie’s mouth. The sickeningly sweet, pungent scent of the cheap corn liquor he loved to drink flavored his breath, to nauseating effect. Bile rose in her throat when his cracked, dry lips scraped hers.

She couldn’t scream. She tried to plant her arms on his chest and push him away, but he grabbed her wrists, pinning them against the log wall. All blood flow to her hands ceased.

The blows her high-buttoned shoes landed on his shins didn’t bother him. He leaned in harder. She couldn’t draw a breath. The world spun. Bright colors flashed behind her eyes.

Then two hands grabbed Derek around his neck and pulled him off her. She gulped air. Noah tightened his grip on Derek, his thumbs on the shorter man’s windpipe. “You’d better leave your filthy hands off this lady.”

Adie wilted against the building in relief.

Noah shook him. “Stay away from her. Do you understand?”

The big man fell to his knees.

“Do you understand?”

Derek nodded. Noah released his grip and gave the jack a kick.

But then Derek stood and spun, fists balled, lunging at the slender man, who darted to the side moments before those huge fists would have connected with his stomach.

Fear jerked her legs from under her. She slumped in the snow.

The giant took another step toward Noah. Before he could strike, Mr. Larsen emerged from the wanigan. “Ah, Owens, perfect. Cookie mentioned he needed more wood chopped. Since you’re free, you can take care of that. Get your axe. The woodpile’s behind the kitchen.”

Mr. Larsen stood with his hands on his hips. Derek searched a moment before locating his ax next to Adie. She didn’t want to think about what he would have done if he’d remembered it. She’d been so afraid for Noah she hadn’t noticed it beside her.

“Come on, Owens, let’s go.” Mr. Larsen still stood in the store doorway.

Derek surveyed Noah and Adie. Her skin felt like it crawled with ants. “This ain’t over. My pa was a weak-willed man who let my ma beat up on him. I’m not like him. Not at all. I always get what I want. Watch and see if I don’t.”

A
fter Derek left, followed by Mr. Larsen, Noah helped Adie to her feet. Her heart trembled at his touch, along with the rest of her body.

He wrapped his arms around her.

She wished she could clean the taste of Derek—with his tobacco and booze—out of her mouth.

“Can’t you see you’re not safe here? You need someone to protect you. You need me.” He paused for a moment then tightened his embrace. “You have to marry me.”

His hold warmed her. She stopped shivering, yet she couldn’t bring herself to admit he was right. “You did protect me today, even though we aren’t married. Derek took me by surprise and had me pinned before I could react, but Daddy taught me to fight for myself. Look, you came to my rescue at the precise moment I needed you. We don’t have to be married for you to watch out for me.” Relief mingled with disappointment at those words.

“I saw Owens coming through the woods as I went to join the other loggers. For a while I kept going, but God gave me this feeling that things weren’t right. Part of me knew I had to go after him. If I hadn’t been late today, I wouldn’t have seen him. There’s no telling what he would have done if I hadn’t stopped him. If he surprises you again—and he will—you won’t be able to protect yourself.”

She tried to ignore the truth in his words but couldn’t. All the labor in the camp had made her strong but hadn’t made her grow or put on weight. She’d only be able to fend off Derek if she had the element of surprise on her side.

“I’ll be careful. Next time I’ll pay better attention.”

Noah shook his head and released his hold on her.

If only Daddy were here to give her some advice. Of course, if Daddy were here she wouldn’t be in this pickle. Adie didn’t know what to do. How could she marry a stranger? Cookie encouraged her to do so, but what did he know about marriage and a woman’s heart?

Stepping to the side and looking up, she examined Noah. A slight smile curled his lips, and something about him that she couldn’t pinpoint exuded warmth and kindness.

Her father had told her Noah came to the camp this winter to earn money for seminary. He wanted to be a preacher. All the preachers Adie knew rode the circuit. They didn’t settle down. Unless he wanted to be a big-city preacher. That kind lived in fancy brick houses, not in cozy log cabins. Either way, she’d be forced to give up her dream forever. She’d never have her quiet, peaceful life.

Noah reached out to her. He stopped before he touched her. “Adie?”

She turned her back to him, thinking of Derek. Her arms tingled where he’d squashed her wrists. The crush of his weight against her hadn’t fully eased. What could she do to defend herself? He had well over a hundred pounds on her. If he came back for more like he promised, would it end as well as it had today? She knew the answers to her own questions.

Noah was right. She was alone. Defenseless. A lumber camp was no place for a young woman. Women worked in other camps. Much older women, married women. Or the other kind, the kind she didn’t want to be, but the kind she’d end up as if Derek had his way. She’d be easy prey then for any man in the camp.

She didn’t have another choice.

She turned toward Noah, staying out of arm’s reach. “I’ll marry you.”

Noah stared at Adie as she stood by his side in her simple brown gown. He’d never seen her in anything other than her faded work clothes, covered with an apron. This must be her Sunday best.

Mr. Larsen, who served as justice of the peace among his other duties, intoned the words of the marriage ceremony. Noah didn’t hear a word.

She clasped her hands in front of her so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Do you, Noah Bradford Mitchell, take this woman …”

Did he? Yes, this was the right thing to do, the thing the Lord would have him do. He may never lead a congregation as their pastor, but he would serve the Lord this way.

He’d insisted the blacksmith fashion crude rings for them. Derek Owens and the others needed a visual reminder that Adie was his wife and that they had to stay away.

They said the appropriate words at the appropriate times, and so they were married.

By the time Adie returned to her little cabin after supper dishes that evening, Noah had built up the fire, and warmth enveloped the small space.

Noah. Her husband. How strange that sounded. How odd to see him in this place.

She studied him as he stirred the logs, muscles rippling under his lumber shirt. He had a strong profile with a regal-looking nose and the indefinable quality of compassion about him. And he was good-looking.

Adie heard her mother’s voice in her head. “Handsome is as handsome does.” So far, this applied to Noah inside and out.

She warned herself not to lose her heart to this man. God had a way of taking from her all the people she loved. Caring about another person led to heartbreak in the end. She’d have to exercise caution so she didn’t come to feel for him.

He noticed her and placed the poker on the mantel, next to the daguerreotype of her parents. A picture of another couple with several children had joined it. She furrowed her brows.

“Those are my parents and sisters. While I waited for you, I brought my things from the bunkhouse. I won’t get in your way, but I’d like to have my picture there, too.”

“I don’t mind.” And she didn’t, until she spied his quilt on Daddy’s bed. When she’d changed her clothes after the ceremony, she’d folded her father’s quilt, the one from the bed he and Mama shared, and placed it in the small trunk at the foot of her bed. Noah’s red star coverlet looked strange there, out of place. At least he’d kept the sheet hanging between the two rope beds.

“You are bothered. I can tell.”

She shook her head, unwilling to speak the lie.

“Come on, sit down. It’s been an unusual day. I made a pot of black lead.” He poured them each a cup of coffee.

He sat across from her. “This is strange to both of us. We need time to get to know each other and feel comfortable together. I’ll keep my promise and not, well … you know. But I want us to be friends. Life will be easier if we can get along.”

“Thank you.” She sent him a small smile to let him know she appreciated his kindness. “I’d like for us to get along.” But not too well or too close. “Tell me about all those sisters of yours.”

She’d picked a good topic. While she sipped her coffee, he told her about each of his sisters, their personalities, their likes and dislikes, and the families of the ones who were married. In spite of her heart’s warning, she laughed when he told her how he’d teased them, pulling boyish pranks like snakes in beds and frogs in lunch pails.

“Of course, they got even with me. I remember one piece of pumpkin pie complete with a dollop of Pa’s shaving cream instead of whipped cream.”

She laughed, surprising herself. She shouldn’t be merry so soon after her father’s death, but it did warm her heart.

He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his coffee. “Now it’s your turn. What about your family? I know you don’t have any siblings, but do you have cousins? Aunts and uncles?”

“I don’t have any family.” The ache in her chest returned full force and then some. She wanted this conversation to end. Scraping her chair back, she stood. “It’s been an exhausting day. I’m going to retire. Good night.”

He opened his mouth as if to question her but slammed it shut. “Good night, Adie. Sleep well.”

As she closed the sheet that served as a curtain, the one separating her from her husband, she remembered how her parents said good night. Such a tender look would pass between them. Her father would take her mother in his arms, hold her close, whisper into her hair, and kiss her for a long time.

The memories brought tears to her eyes. The knowledge that she would never have that kind of relationship sent them streaming down her face.

Noah thunked his forehead with the palm of his hand. How could he be so stupid, bringing up her family like that? They had been having a good time, getting along. She laughed in all the right places and put him at ease. Then he had to go and mention her family, right after her father passed away. What a
dummkopf
. He knew she didn’t have any family; Quinn had told him more than once.

From now on he would need to choose his words with care. He knew he had to protect her from the uncouth men in the logging camp. He didn’t realize he’d have to protect her from himself.