Would-Be Wilderness Wife (15 page)

“I hope we didn't offend you, Miss Stanway,” James said, twisting his head as if to see more of her face. “I didn't mean any harm.”

“No offense taken, Mr. Wallin,” she said, detouring around a rocky patch. “It was simply time for me to retire.”

From inside the barn came the neigh of a horse and the fluttering cackle of chickens.

Simon's hand shot out to stop her. “Something's wrong.”

Catherine felt as if the lantern had dimmed. “What should we do?”

He glanced back at the house, and then, as if deeming it better to keep her near, he nodded to his brother. “Stay close to James and follow me.”

Together they set out for the barn. James pulled open the big door with a rattle of metal, setting the chickens to clucking again. The lantern's glow only reached the first few feet of the space, making Catherine feel as if they had entered a cave. As they ventured down the main aisle, she could see that the horses were backed up in their stalls, shifting and bumping against the wood. Their eyes showed white. Nearby, the oxen lowed a warning, and a pig let out a squeal. James hung the lantern on a hook and went to quiet the beasts as Simon moved through the building.

Doubting she could be of any use in this instance, Catherine sat on a bench near the lantern, rubbing one hand up her arm. It did nothing to stop the chill that was overtaking her.

“James,” Simon called, and his brother hurried to his side, bringing the lantern with him.

Before the darkness could swallow her, Catherine rose as well and went to join them by the rear door. On the ground outside, something lay in a heap that glistened in the light.

“What is that?” Simon demanded.

James climbed out onto the ground and bent over the mass, then raised his head and stared at his brother. “It's meat. A haunch of venison, I think. I don't remember John or Drew hunting today.”

“They didn't,” Simon said, head turning as if he was looking for someone or something in the darkened forest. “And neither did I.”

Now James was looking around as well, and Catherine peered deeper into the shadows, fearing that she might see those amber eyes looking back at her.

“It's not like a cougar to leave its kill uncovered,” James said, voice thick in the mist.

“I don't think it was the cougar.” Simon cocked his rifle. “Someone left that there on purpose. Trying to draw in the cat, I'm guessing.”

James jerked upright, lantern flashing with the movement. “You think someone meant to bring the cougar into Wallin Landing?”

“The same someone who poisoned the spring,” Catherine murmured. And perhaps had beaten Levi?

Simon glanced her way. “Very likely. Come get the spade, James, and bury that thing.”

James complied, scrambling back into the barn and handing the lantern to Catherine before going to find the shovel.

“I'll cover you,” Simon promised, watching him. Before his brother could leave the barn again, Simon turned to her, face grim. “I'm sorry, Catherine, but I think you'd better sleep in the house with Ma and Beth tonight.”

She wanted to argue. Return to the house? Face Drew and answer the questions she'd seen in his eyes? Meeting the cougar or their unseen enemy in the dark almost sounded easier.

Almost.

“Very well, Mr. Wallin,” she said. “Your plan is sensible. But I hope you intend to explain all this to your brother.” That might keep Drew busy enough that he'd have time to forget her mistake.

And give her enough time to convince herself she wouldn't repeat it.

Chapter Sixteen

I
nside the house, Drew made sure Levi and their mother were situated for the night.

“You don't have to hover over me like a mother hen,” Ma said as he tucked her in the big bed she'd once shared with his father. “I'm much better!”

She was, and he was so thankful for that fact.
If nothing else comes from this association with Catherine, Lord, thank You for sending her to help Ma.

“Perhaps I just like to make sure,” Drew told her, bending to kiss her forehead. “Humor me.”

“I suppose I should be patient,” she said, snuggling under the covers. “But it's not a trait I ever possessed. I was very proud of you for being so patient with your brothers and sister growing up. Don't lose that ability now.”

Drew straightened so fast he nearly banged his head on the ceiling. “If I've been impatient with you, ma'am, I apologize.”

His mother shook her head, nightcap brushing the pillow. “Not with me. But you and your brothers seem to think all you need to do is show Catherine a little courtesy, and she'll swoon at your feet.” She narrowed her eyes at Drew. “A wife worth the having is a wife worth the wooing.”

So she was still plucking at that string. “I'm not going to follow after her like a moon-sick calf.”

“And who asked you to act so foolishly?” she challenged, flattening her fingers on the quilt. “Your pa liked to say we fell in love at first sight, but the truth is that it took time and proximity for love to grow.” She reached out and took Drew's hand in hers, her gaze touching his. “Show her the man you are. If she can't appreciate that, then she's not the woman for you.”

Drew nodded and pulled away, but the sound of the door closing downstairs made him pause. Footsteps crossed for the stairs, and he turned to see Simon leading Catherine up. His brother's face was tight, but Catherine's pallor struck Drew in the chest.

He was moving to their sides before they had reached the top. “What's happened? Are you hurt?”

Simon held up one hand. “She's fine. I think it best she spend the night up here. We need to talk.” He nodded to Catherine before starting back down, as if assuming Drew would follow him.

Drew couldn't seem to move. He had no idea what had happened, but those same feelings he'd been fighting since he'd first met her wrapped around him, demanding action. He wanted to hold her close and promise to protect her no matter what.

As if she knew it, she managed a smile. “Go with your brother, Drew. I'll be fine.”

“She can share my bed,” Ma called, patting the covers and smiling in welcome.

Drew had to touch Catherine. He ran his hand up her arm, then rested his fingers a moment on her shoulder. “I'll be in with Levi later if you need me.”

She ducked under his hand and went to join his mother.

Downstairs, Simon explained what they'd found. “James is keeping an eye on the barn. I'll take the next watch, and John can take the watch after that. You stay with Ma.”

Normally Drew might have bristled at his brother's high-handed tone, but now he could only agree that the best place for him was in the house.

“There's something else you should know,” he told Simon. “Catherine suspects Levi didn't fall out of that tree.”

His brother frowned. “How else would he have earned those injuries?”

Drew felt himself tensing just thinking about the possibility. “Someone beat him.

Simon's head snapped up. “Why? And why wouldn't he name the bully? That makes no sense.”

Drew couldn't argue with him. “James might say he's annoying enough to have earned it, but I share your doubts. Let him sleep for now. We can ask him when he's had a chance to heal.”

“Oh, we will,” Simon promised. He turned to head back outside.

But when Drew returned upstairs and bunked down near a snoring Levi, he couldn't seem to get to sleep. Instead of the troubles that plagued them, his mother's words occupied his mind. She seemed to think it was easy to win a woman's heart, that all he had to do was be himself. He hadn't thought he'd been anything else, and Catherine didn't seem enamored.

He listened, trying to isolate her breathing among the other soft noises coming from the opposite side of the hearth. He could imagine her lying next to Ma, face relaxed in sleep, lashes fanning her cheeks. She was beautiful, she was talented, she was clever. Any man would be proud to marry her.

So how did a man show a woman he was interested in matrimony? Catherine didn't seem impressed by James's wit, and she didn't bloom under effusive praise. Not being married to her, he had only so many opportunities when it was appropriate for him to hug her, and it wasn't proper to give her expensive gifts even if he could find them readily in Seattle.

He thought back to how his parents had behaved. Pa always seemed to sit or stand close to Ma when they were done with work for the day, hand on her shoulder or arm about her waist. He'd thank her for what she'd done, even if it was her usual chores of cooking, laying in stores for the winter, washing, sewing or mending. At times, they'd work shoulder to shoulder, clearing a field, building a fence, raising a barn, raising a family. And Pa had always chosen the dirtiest work, the hardest labor, if that meant sparing her from it.

He could do that. He already valued Catherine's skills as a nurse. He could make sure she knew that. And while she was at the Landing, he could share every burden, even if that added to his own.

Maybe actions really could speak louder than words.

He rose the next morning prepared to tell his brothers that he didn't require their help in courting Catherine. But, as usual, his family had other plans.

The first person he saw when he came downstairs was James. His brother wore a black frock coat over his reclaimed vest, and carved leather boots peeped out from under his wool trousers. He adjusted his stiff collar, then pointed a finger at Drew.

“You, sir, are shabbily dressed to appear before your Lord.”

Drew glanced down at the shirt and trousers he'd slept in. “I didn't plan on meeting my maker today.”

James clasped his hands together. “None of us ever does, brother. Can I get an amen?”

“Amen,” John obliged, coming in from the back room. He, too, wore a coat and trousers, but he'd wrapped one of Ma's aprons about his waist, and the smell of frying ham told Drew he was making breakfast. “Did you forget, Drew?” he asked. “Today's Sunday.”

In truth, he had forgotten with everything that had been happening. Both his father and his mother had insisted that Sunday was the Lord's day, a time for worship and rest. Basic chores like cooking and feeding the stock had to be done, of course, but there'd be no logging or other major tasks started.

“I'll be back for breakfast and service,” he promised his brothers before heading to his own cabin to clean up and change clothes.

When he returned a short time later, wearing his one good suit of brown wool, all his brothers had gathered around the table. Beth was digging a hole in the braided rug as she paced from the table to the stairs. His sister wasn't old enough, Ma insisted, for a fancy dress just yet, but she'd tied a ribbon at the waist of her blue gingham gown, and curls swung from either side of her face.

Maybe Catherine really did know her way around a curling iron as Beth had hoped.

Still, her agitation concerned him. “Is Ma all right?” he asked, catching Beth's eyes as she swung past the table.

Her nod was a jerk of her head that set her hard-won curls to bobbing. “Fine, fine. And I want you to know, Drew, that it was my idea, and Ma loved it.”

He thought she must be talking about the curls, but before he could tell her they looked nice on her, she stopped to glance up the stairs. Following her gaze, he caught himself staring.

Catherine was descending, hands carefully holding up the skirts of the dress his mother had given her to wear. He'd seen it any number of times over the years, but always packed away in a trunk. The elegant scooped neck with its lace collar topped a bodice that drew down in a V at the narrow waist, the blue-and-green-striped cotton brushed to a shine that rivaled the gleam of Catherine's hair.

It was the dress, his mother had told them, she'd worn to her wedding, and she'd never found a good enough reason to use it again, until now.

Drew felt his chest rising with the emotions inside him. Simon stood up from the table as if to escort Catherine, but Drew beat him to the foot of the stairs.

“Catherine,” he said, offering her his arm.

“Andrew,” she replied with a smile as she accepted. “Your mother said you all dressed in your Sunday best, but I hardly expected all this.”

He heard the benches scrape the floor as the rest of his brothers climbed to their feet. Even Levi wavered on his splint.

“I am blessed with the company of a fine set of gentlemen,” Ma said, following Catherine down the stairs in her favorite green wool gown. “And now two lovely ladies, as well.”

Beth wasn't the only one to blush at her praise.

John's breakfast of ham, eggs and corn bread with honey was quickly consumed, and the dishes were put in the washtub to soak. Simon had already brought over his fiddle, John the family Bible. They all gathered in the front room for Sunday service. Drew made sure to position chairs near the hearth for Catherine and his mother, then took a spot not too far away.

“We've rarely had a minister come out this far,” Ma was explaining to Catherine as they sat. “So we've had to improvise when it comes to worship.”

“Today we're reading in Matthew, I believe,” John said, moving another of the chairs closer and jerking his head to Drew as if he wanted his brother to take a seat.

Drew stayed where he was.

“Or should that be Levi?” Catherine asked with a smile to Drew before looking at her patient, who was sitting on a bench with his leg propped up again.

Levi stared at Drew. “You told her?”

James settled next to his youngest brother. “What can we say? You are an endless source of amusement.”

“You're not,” Levi retorted.

James pressed his hand to his heart as if gravely wounded.

Normally, Drew took the first reading, but he found himself strangely tongue-tied with Catherine watching him. Simon seemed to take pity on him, for he, too, directed Drew to the seat next to Catherine and read the passage himself. Still, Drew couldn't seem to focus, even when John followed with one of their father's favorite psalms.

“‘My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.'”

He ought to rest on the second part of that promise, but too many times he felt the first part. This family had a way of tugging at his heart, challenging his strength. Today, however, he had another concern about praying.

And how did a man pray for the strength to go courting?

* * *

Catherine felt as if the room warmed with each reading. God had been the strength of her heart. He'd seen her safely around the country, through months at sea, and now was helping her prosper in this new land. She was so full of thanks that when Drew's hand reached for hers, she did not pull away. The touch felt right, pure.

Hand in hand, they listened as Simon played a series of hymns, the last of which had the whole family singing. Something seemed to be rising in her heart like bread dough in the morning, and it took her a moment to realize it was joy.

Dangerous
, a voice whispered inside her. Where one strong emotion bloomed, others would follow. But surely there was no harm in praise. It had been an eventful few days, and she was grateful God had brought them all through it safely.

But apparently others needed help as well, for Drew and his family had barely said “Amen” when there was a knock on the door, fast and furious. James, closest to the panel, jumped up to answer it as the other brothers rose to their feet, Drew once more putting himself between her and possible danger. But then, what else would she expect from a knight, even one in a brown wool suit that stretched across his shoulders?

James threw open the door, and to Catherine's surprise, Old Joe hobbled into the room with a nod to Drew and his brothers.

“Gents,” he greeted. “Ladies. I'm right sorry to interrupt, but I got an itch I can't stop scratching.”

Drew's voice was a warning rumble. “I'll not have Miss Stanway bothered. She's already refused your suit.”

Beth wrinkled her nose. “
He
was one of those suitors?”

Around Drew, Catherine could see the prospector grimace. “Didn't come courting this time. Came for some doctoring.” He yanked up on the sleeve of his shirt. “See?”

Beth and her mother recoiled from the puffy red flesh. Catherine rose and pointed to the door. “Outside, sir. I'll do all I can to help.”

“Much obliged, ma'am.” He hurried back to the door, fingers pressed against the rash. “It drives me so crazy at night I can't hardly sleep.”

“Excuse me,” Catherine said to the room at large. “I'll be back shortly.”

Only Drew followed her out. She thought perhaps he still didn't trust Old Joe, but instead he looked to her as they paused on the porch. “How can I help?”

Catherine smiled in thanks. “Let me examine the fellow and then I can tell you what we'll need to ease his discomfort.”

It took her a few questions to confirm what she'd suspected on first sight.

“Is poison ivy or oak prevalent in the area?” she asked Drew, who had remained at her side as Old Joe sat on the porch and Catherine stood over him.

“Not that I've noticed,” Drew replied, rubbing his chin with one hand. “But there's a good-size patch of stinging nettles between here and the Rankin claim. Beth picks them sometimes and boils them for greens.”