Would-Be Wilderness Wife (9 page)

Indeed, he didn't enter into the teasing with his family. He seemed to stand aside, like a massive oak, shielding them from any harm. Although his protection was noble, she couldn't help wondering whether it was a lonely vigil.

“What about a game tonight?” Levi asked, slinging a leg over the bench where he, James and John were sitting.

“Kitty in the Corner,” Beth said with a clap of her hands before reaching for the empty pie plate.

Levi made a face, but Drew spoke up, hands cradling his tankard of cider. “We should have music tonight in honor of Ma coming down to dinner.”

This time when Mrs. Wallin smiled, Catherine could see the effort it took. “Perhaps one tune. Simon, would you play for us?”

Simon climbed off the opposite bench from beside Catherine. “Whatever you want, Ma. Just give me a moment to fetch my fiddle.”

Drew stood and came around the table to lift his mother. “Miss Stanway,” he said, gazing at Catherine over his mother's shoulder, “please join us. The rest of you, clear up.”

With good-natured grumbling, his brothers rose to help.

A short while later they were all seated around the hearth. Mrs. Wallin had settled so contentedly in the bentwood rocker that the dark wood seemed curved to her frame. Beth sat at her feet, legs curled up under her gingham skirts. Levi, James and John lounged on the rug before the fire. Catherine felt like a queen seated on one of the ladder-backed chairs. Drew braced his shoulders against the log wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Catherine could feel his gaze roaming over his family; her cheeks warmed when she felt it resting on her.

She told herself to focus on Simon, who had moved to stand before the fire. He held a well-polished violin and bow. Since arriving in Seattle, she'd heard a number of fellows scrape out a tune with many a protest from the instrument and prepared herself for a similar performance.

“Something gentle, I think,” Mrs. Wallin said, leaning back in her chair. “Something to calm the spirit.”

“Gentle it is.” Simon put his bow to the strings and out drifted a lilting song. The notes danced and skipped about the room, like young lambs in the spring. Catherine felt a smile forming.

Mrs. Wallin was smiling, too, as were most of her sons. Beth had her lips pressed close together as if to keep from laughing, but Levi went so far as to snicker.

Drew pushed off from the wall. “Very funny, Simon. Try something else.”

Simon inclined his head, and the tune changed. It was slow, serious, nearly mournful. Beth frowned as if she had never heard it before. Mrs. Wallin sighed and seemed to hunch in her chair.

The sounds spoke to Catherine of loves lost and friends parted, yet hope rising through it all, whispering of new life, fulfilled purpose. Around her, the men quieted and stilled. It was as if the very forest was holding its breath and listening.

Simon urged one final note from his violin and lowered it.

Mrs. Wallin managed a smile. “Well done, Simon. You surely inherited that skill from your father. He'd be proud.”

Simon shrugged as he set down the instrument, but Catherine could see the faintest of pink in his lean cheeks.

Mrs. Wallin rose then, saying good-night to her family. Catherine watched as each of her children went to kiss her or give her a hug, wishing her sweet dreams, promising they'd see her in the morning. The love glowed around them as surely as the light from the lamp. Catherine felt as if she stood in a circle of darkness.

Then Drew looked her way, and the glow seemed to expand, to encourage her closer.

She could feel her heart responding. Would it be so wrong to give in to its urging?

Chapter Nine

D
rew moved to Catherine's side. He didn't think she knew what his brother had just done with his playing, but for a moment she had looked almost stricken. Once more, he'd wanted to gather her close. He had to settle for helping her instead.

“Let me,” he said when she took his mother's arm to assist Ma up the stairs. He lifted his mother and carried her up. Catherine and Beth followed.

“That Simon,” Beth said with a tsk. “I hope he didn't offend you, Miss Stanway.”

Drew tensed, but Catherine's voice held its usual composure. “Not at all,” she assured Beth as they reached the top of the stairs. “He plays beautifully.”

Drew couldn't help himself. “He ought to pay more attention to his selection than his tuning.” He set his mother down on the bed and stepped back to give her room to settle herself. He didn't like her pallor. It was obvious to him she wasn't as well as she wanted them to think.

But despite her evident weariness, her eyes were bright. “Why, what do you mean, Andrew?” she asked innocently. “I like to hear the songs from the old country. I thought the wedding march and the christening song fine selections.”

Fine selections for a man who was courting. He wasn't. Drew bit back an answer and turned to Catherine before she could question his mother. “I'll take first watch tonight.”

She raised her head, as if he'd challenged her capabilities. “Nonsense. You've labored hard all day. My place is at your mother's side.”

So was his. But even as he opened his mouth to say as much, he felt weariness tugging at his sleeve, urging him to take the opportunity to rest.

Beth settled the matter for him. “No, I'll watch first,” she insisted. “I'm not sleepy. You and Drew have a lot to talk about, I'm sure.”

There they went again. He could see the way his mother and sister exchanged glances. So could Catherine if the set of her mouth was any indication.

Oh, no! He wasn't about to let himself focus on her lips again tonight.

“Miss Stanway has had a long day, as well,” he informed his sister. He turned to Catherine. “If you're ready to retire, I'll walk you to the cabin.”

“Surely there's no need, Mr. Wallin,” she protested. “I believe I know the way by now.”

“Oh, but Miss Stanway,” Beth interrupted, “the moon's out tonight. There's nothing finer than a stroll in the moonlight.”

Catherine did not seem to agree. Indeed, she was turning nearly as pale as Ma in the firelight.

He put a hand to her elbow. “Are you all right?”

She pulled away from his touch. “Fine. Just tired, as you noted. I'll see if one of your brothers can walk me to the cabin. I'll be expecting your knock after midnight, Miss Wallin.”

She turned and descended the stairs as if a bear was at her heels. With his mother and sister glaring at him, he knew just how she felt.

* * *

John agreed to escort Catherine across to the other cabin. She felt as if she was running away, but the idea of strolling in the moonlight with Drew had raised such a longing inside her that she'd known retreat was her best choice. She was merely glad John showed no interest in the silvery light bathing them.

“I find your approach to healthful living to be inspiring, Miss Stanway,” he said as they neared the cabin. “Especially the different foodstuffs you advised for Ma.” He opened the door and peered in. Did he think someone else had wandered into the house while she was out?

“Perhaps you can suggest a book on the subject,” he said, returning his gaze to hers. “I hear Mrs. Howard has started a lending library. I may be able to persuade her to order a book for me.”

“My father was rather fond of
Culpeper's Complete Herbal
,” Catherine told him. “I'll see if I can find a copy for you.”

He nodded his thanks, made sure the fire and lamp were burning and left her.

Despite her reaction to Drew, once more sleep came easily, the air so cool and crisp she could almost taste it. A few hours later Beth woke her as promised, rousing Catherine from a hazy dream in which she ran through the woods, searching for something she couldn't name.

“Though I'm not sure you're needed, as Ma's sleeping just fine,” the girl reported as she walked Catherine back across the clearing. Both the trip with John and now with Beth had gone remarkably smoothly. Had Drew really needed to carry her the previous night?

But as Catherine settled herself in the chair next to Mrs. Wallin, she almost wished she had stayed in bed. There was nothing to keep her mind from the memories that crept up on her like a woodland mouse.

Her father teaching her brother to ride.

Nathan so proud in the uniform she'd helped sew for him.

Her standing by their gravestones, lined up clean and bright next to the church.

She rose and stoked the fire, then traveled to the far window and peered out. The moon was riding high; she could see a reflection of silver on the lake, brightening the shore. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow slipping along below the house, but she blinked to focus her weary eyes and it was gone.

Drew or his brothers must have found food elsewhere, for no one disturbed them. The sun had already risen when she yawned and reached for the water bucket. Drew had left them plenty of wood, but she thought Beth might need most of the water for breakfast. Perhaps she could ask Levi to fill this bucket for her so she could help Mrs. Wallin wash up.

Unfortunately, she found his bed empty, seemingly undisturbed from last night. Well, she'd simply have to fend for herself. She took the bucket downstairs, intending to fill it from Drew's pump. She stepped out on the porch.

And froze.

There were men everywhere. Some had curled up along the boardwalk of the house, heads pillowed on their bent knees. Others camped under the eaves of the barn. All lay still, the silence broken by the occasional snore.

What had happened? Why were they here? Had she been wrong about Mrs. Wallin's illness? Was this the start of an epidemic?

She dropped the bucket and ran into the yard. Crouching over the closest fellow, she felt for a pulse at his wrist. It was beating strongly.

His eyes popped open, a bleary blue in his grizzled face. “Glory be, it's true! There
is
a woman in the woods.”

Catherine was so surprised she fell back on her skirts. Even as he scrambled to his feet, other hands grabbed her under her arms and hauled her upright.

“There now, ma'am,” a man dressed in fur skins said with a smile that revealed several missing teeth. The burned smell of badly tanned leather coiled around her before he released her. “Don't you mind Old Joe. He don't got the manners of a flea.”

“But I do.” Another man in a fine wool suit, starched collar lifting his shaven chin, pushed forward. He whisked out a snowy white handkerchief and attempted to dust off her skirts. “There you go, missy. All set to marry me.”

“Marry you!” Catherine sputtered, shaking out her skirts.

Old Joe shoved him back into the muddy yard. “Hey, I saw her first!”

“But I got here before any of you lot,” declared the man in fur. “I paid Mercer a pretty penny for a bride, and none of them hoity-toity misses in town will listen to me. By rights, this one is mine.”

He shouldered aside Old Joe, who pushed him right back. The two wrestled to the ground, grappling, mud squelching with each grunt. What were they doing? They couldn't be fighting over her! Even the chickens fluttered about in their coop in protest.

She backed away from the struggling men as the rest of the strangers in the clearing roused at the sounds of raised voices and began standing. As a crowd, they shambled toward her, gazes as bright as if she were a cool drink of water on a hot day.

“Stop, right now!” she ordered them, pointing an imperious finger. “I'm marrying no one.”

Old Joe managed to fend off his comrade and struggled to his feet. Wiping muck from his face, he turned toward her with a determined glint in his eyes. “Course you are. That's what you Mercer gals came for. I couldn't get into town before most of them was spoken for, but when I heard one was here with the Wallin boys I figured I stood as good a chance as any of them.”

That seemed to be everyone's opinion, for they were all nodding and smiling as they converged on her, arms outstretched as if to shake her hand or grab her closer. Heart pounding, she lifted her skirts and dashed for the boardwalk.

“Won't do no good to run,” one shouted after her. “You'll only get caught and brought back.”

Her breath was what was caught. All this because they wanted a wife? Had they no moral grounding, no sense of propriety? She felt like the baby in the tale of Solomon's wisdom, about to be cleaved in two to settle a dispute.

She couldn't run into the house and expose Beth and Mrs. Wallin to these men. Who knew where Levi might be or whether he'd be any use at all. If Drew and his other brothers hadn't heard the commotion by now, they must already be out in the trees. They had no way of knowing an army was besieging their little castle on the lake.

And then she remembered. She reached the back door a good few yards before any of the men and snatched up the rifle hanging from a hook. She'd never fired a gun in her life, but it seemed obvious what she should do. Whirling away from the door, she held it out and put her finger in the little loop at the base of the barrel.

The men following her skidded to a stop. One put up his hands as if surrendering.

“Now, you just set that down, little lady,” Old Joe said, taking a cautious step closer, eyes narrowing. “We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt.”

“She don't know what she's doing,” another muttered, with an elbow in the side of the man next to him. “Look at how her hands are shaking.”

Catherine could feel it as well, and she could see it in the way the barrel bobbed.
Help me, Lord!

She stiffened her spine and glared at the mob surrounding her. If they wanted her for a wife, they should know what they were getting.

“I may be shaking, sir,” she told Old Joe, “but I know exactly what I'm doing.” She raised the gun and fired.