Would-Be Wilderness Wife (21 page)

It was the hardest thing Catherine had ever done, but she slapped down on the reins and left him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

W
ith Mrs. Wallin on one side and Beth on the other, Catherine guided the team through the trees, following the track she and Drew had walked on Sunday. Nathan had taught her how to drive years ago. He'd thought himself so clever to be better than her at something, the teacher rather than the pupil at last. She'd humored him, though she'd known the skill wasn't critical. Where she'd lived she'd either walked or traveled with friends or family. Besides, her father rarely surrendered the reins to his son, let alone Catherine. Now she blessed Nathan for teaching her, for the knowledge allowed her to bring the horses down the hill and onto the shore by the lake.

If she looked out over the blue water, cresting in places in a rising breeze, she could almost pretend everything was normal. Birds darted back and forth across the lake: gulls with their black-tipped wings, swallows with their mouths open. Mount Rainier rose in the distance, like a mother watching over her children at play. Only the hint of smoke in the air told of the fight going on among the trees behind them.

Beside her, Mrs. Wallin had her hands clasped in her lap, and her lips moved presumably in prayer. Catherine sent up a prayer as well, but it felt so small against five lives, three homes and the work of two generations.

She hated not knowing, not doing more. A part of her had always wondered whether there might have been something she could have done if she'd been there with her brother and father on the battlefield. Was God giving her a chance to help now?

She rose from the bench. “Wait here. I'm going back.”

“No, don't!” Beth clutched Catherine's skirts. “Oh, please, Catherine, don't leave us. What if the cougar is still around?”

“Then I won't be much use to you,” Catherine replied. “We don't even have a gun.”

Mrs. Wallin touched her daughter's hands. “It's all right, Beth. Let her go. She knows her mind.” She nodded to Catherine as Catherine climbed down to the ground. “Help them. We'll keep the stock safe. You save my boys.”

Save her boys. What faith she had in Catherine.

As she lifted her skirts and started up the hill for the Landing, Catherine knew she didn't have that kind of faith. She wasn't sure why the Lord didn't keep some people, like her father and brother, safe, why some had to die so young or when so needed. Despite her best efforts, things just seemed too chaotic, too out of control.

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer. I have overcome the world.

She drew in a breath, feeling as if the truth of the remembered verse had touched her physically. The Lord had made no promises that life would be safe and secure. He'd only promised to be with her through it all.

And that was a promise she could keep for Drew.

She hurried through the trees and out into the clearing at the edge of the Landing. Though Drew's brothers continued to throw water at the fire, their faces grimy from the smoke, the blaze was beginning to gain the upper hand. Tongues of flame licked greedily through the slats on the barn. The oxen had been let free and were running from one side of the clearing to the other in their fear, the rumble of their hooves accompanying the crackle of the burning wood.

Above the noise rose the bang of metal on stone.

Catherine spun to face the pool. Drew stood, one leg in the water, the other straddling the wall. He lifted a massive sledgehammer over his head, muscles straining, and brought it down. Stone and mortar flew from the blow. He was trying to break open the pool, and she saw in an instant his purpose. If he flooded the barn, he'd cut off the fire at its base and hinder its progress. He raised the hammer again, shirt taut across his chest, gaze fixed on the wall as if it were his enemy. Once more he was a knight, going to battle for king and country.

For all he held dear.

She wanted to cheer him on; she wanted to speed his work. She glanced around, looking for some way to help, and her spirits plummeted.

The woodpile was smoking.

The towering mass of logs, raised on a platform and braced by a pair of struts at either end, all but covered the side of the barn closest to the pool. When Drew battered down the wall, the wave might put that fire out in the pile, but the water would never reach the underlying flames in the barn. And neither Drew nor his brothers was in any position to move the wood.

But she was. She might not be able to hack through a wall or carry off dozens of chunks of wood, some as big around as her waist, but she knew how to break through a strut.

Glancing around, she spotted any number of axes on the grass, dropped, most likely, when their owner had run to join the bucket brigade. A good many she wasn't sure she could even lift, much less swing. But there, stuck in the wood of the porch, she spied a hatchet!

She ran and yanked free the tool, then dashed across the clearing for the woodpile. The movement must have caught Drew's attention, for she heard him call her name, his voice strained. No time to respond, no way to quickly explain, and she needed all her strength. She drove the hatchet into the wood at an angle, as she'd seen Drew's brothers do at the tree, pulled it free and drove it in at the opposite angle. Again and again she struck, watching, praying, as the little V widened.

“Catherine!” Drew's voice was like distant thunder.

“It's all right,” she called, pulling back the hatchet. “I'm almost there.” She swung it into the strut.

The wood snapped, peppering her with splinters. She stepped back as the pile began to shift. With a rumble, the logs started tumbling out onto the ground.

Something wet sloshed into her shoe, and she slipped. Turning her head, she saw a wave of water churning toward her. The pool was breached, water pouring across the land. She was caught between it and the falling wood.

She struggled to gain purchase in the mud, skirts heavy with water. A log bounced off her foot. She gasped, and strong arms wrapped around her, lifted her, carried her out of the way.

Cradled her close and kept her safe.

Drew set her on the porch, and she had to force her fingers to release her hold on his shirt.

“Stay here,” he said, backing away, face drawn and eyes wild. “If anything happened to you, I'd never be whole again.”

Catherine reached out a hand to him. “I know. I feel the same way. Let me help!”

A cry went up from the barn. Drew turned, and Catherine saw James dash out into the light. He splashed and kicked up his heels in the remaining puddles as the wave of water spread out across the Landing.

“Yee-haw! You did it, Drew! It's out!”

Catherine sagged against the porch support, clutching the rough wood.
Thank You, Father!

Levi, who had been manning the pump, hobbled closer to the barn as if to make sure. Now Catherine could hear Simon and John calling to each other as they beat back the last of the flames.

Before her, Drew's shoulders sagged, the past few moments apparently having taken a toll. Catherine climbed down from the porch and put a hand to his shoulder. “You did it, Drew. Everyone is safe.”

He took her in his arms, held her close and buried his head in her neck. His damp hair caressed her cheek.

“We did it,” he murmured. “I saw the fire starting in the pile, but I couldn't leave the spring to stop it. But if those logs had fallen on you, Catherine, if the water had knocked you under it...”

She felt him shudder. She rubbed his back. “It didn't. I'm safe. Your family is fine.”

He raised his head and gazed down at her, eyes haunted. “This time. What about the next time or the time after that? I can't be everywhere, with everyone.”

Catherine gave him a squeeze. “That's God's job. And I'm learning we should do our best and leave the rest to Him.”

“And His helpers.” James grinned as he approached them. “Very nice work on the woodpile, Catherine. Remind me never to leave my hatchet out when you're angry.”

“Hatchet, sir?” Catherine answered with a smile. “I have my sights on an ax, two handed, perhaps.”

“Better watch out for this one, Drew,” James said. “She thinks big.”

“One of the many things I love about her,” Drew replied.

Catherine could not make herself move from his embrace. Love? Oh, yes, she felt it, too, bright and pure and strong. But though she was beginning to wrestle with her fears from the past, she could see he was still consumed by concerns for the ones he loved. Would he be willing to add her to the list?

* * *

Love. He hadn't sought it, had not earned it, but he could see it shining in Catherine's eyes and feel it in the touch of her hands. There was so much he longed to say to her, things they needed to work out, but once again, his brothers had other ideas.

Simon and John strode out of the barn, tossed aside their shovels and crossed to Drew's side. Grime striped their faces, and Simon's green eyes looked pale in their red rims.

“It's out,” he announced. “But what I want to know is how it started.”

Drew released Catherine, but kept one arm about her waist. He couldn't seem to let her go completely.

“None of us would be so careless,” John said. “If Beth hadn't called us when she smelled the smoke, the fire could easily have spread to the forest and threatened dozens of farms before it was through.”

Catherine nodded toward the barn. “I think Levi may have an answer for you.”

Drew looked to where his youngest brother was walking toward them, leaning heavily on his crutch. His face was white under the smear of mud. He stopped a few feet from his brothers, as if afraid of coming too close.

“It's my fault,” he said, voice cracking. “Someone started the fire on purpose, and I know why.”

“Surely even you couldn't make someone this mad,” James teased. He clapped his brother on the shoulder, nearly oversetting him on his crutch. “Although you must admit that you have the unique ability to annoy a body without trying.”

Drew was interested in how Levi would respond. His brother shifted on the crutch as if he'd like nothing better than to run away again. “Oh, I annoyed someone, all right. I didn't intend to. But I may owe someone money.”

“May?” John frowned as Drew felt his shoulders tighten. “Either you owe it or you don't.”

Drew couldn't remain silent. “Why would you owe anyone anything?” he demanded. “You have all the food, clothing and shelter you need.”

“And maybe I wanted more!” Levi's head came up, and he glared at Drew. “Maybe I wanted something of my own, something I earned all by myself.”

Drew reared back from his brother's vehemence, but Simon leaned closer.

“What have you done?” he demanded.

Levi turned his glare on his second-eldest brother. “It was just a friendly game of cards. Scout goes into town and rounds up folks to join his father. I thought, why not me? I'm grown now. I can enjoy a hand of cards or a good cigar if I want.”

“I imagine a bottle of gin was involved, as well,” John said with a shake of his head. “I've heard there's plenty of that rotgut stuff at the Rankins.”

“I didn't drink,” Levi said, as if that would be any worse than what he'd already confessed. “I kept my head. And I was winning a lot. I was good at it.” Suddenly, he sagged. “Only then I wasn't. Mr. Rankin said I could pay him back when I won, but I couldn't stop losing.”

Drew couldn't seem to grasp the idea. “You chose to gamble away what little you earned from logging? When did this happen? You've had plenty to do here.”

Levi shrugged. “I did, until Ma got sick. Then you sent me back to the Landing. I was bored, and Scout needed help rounding up clients. Besides, Mr. Rankin hosts his games at night. It wasn't hard to slip away...until she came.” He nodded at Catherine.

Anger licked up Drew. Did Levi dare blame Catherine for his shortcomings? She evidently had as little liking for the comment, for her eyes narrowed.

“Then it's a shame I didn't come sooner, Mr. Wallin,” she said.

She was getting all prim and proper again, but Drew couldn't blame her. He felt the same way. He'd thought he'd raised his brother better than this. He wanted to strangle Levi and lock him in the house for safekeeping at the same time.

One of the oxen thudded through the mud, head low and call plaintive. The last of the smoke drifted from the barn. As much as Drew would have liked to question his brother further, they had bigger concerns at the moment.

“We'll settle this later,” he said. “For now, there's work to be done. Simon and James, fetch back Ma and Beth and the stock. John and I will make sure all the sparks are out and get the oxen penned again. Levi, start supper. I don't know whether anyone is in the mood to eat, but I want something on the table just in case.”

As his brothers scattered, Catherine touched his hand where it rested on her hip. “How can I help?”

“Keep an eye on Levi,” he said. “It seems someone has to.”

He watched as his brother stumped up the porch, head bowed.

“We'll help him,” Catherine said, watching Levi, as well. “He's lost his way, but he's not lost.”

Drew could only hope she was right and that he could reach his brother.

And Catherine.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I
t was a solemn dinner that night. Though Levi had managed to put together a stew with dried venison, carrots and potatoes, as well as a pan of biscuits, no one seemed interested in eating. Simon had returned with Mrs. Wallin and Beth, and the men had built a makeshift pen for the stock until they could repair the fire damage to the barn.

Simon must have told their mother about Levi's confession, for the first thing she did when she returned was to cup her youngest son's face in her hands.

“What's done is done,” she'd said, green eyes meeting blue. “Now you must make things right.”

Levi had nodded, blinking back tears.

Although Catherine knew Mrs. Wallin was wise to counsel action, she wondered how the boy would go about settling the matter. It was clear to her he was in over his head and up against people with no regard for life or property.

Of course, she knew something about feeling out of control. Despite her best efforts, she had come to love this family. Especially the man who held them all together.

Drew sat at the head of the table, gaze traveling from one sibling to another as if he were counting heads, making certain everyone was safe and fed. He didn't eat until their plates were filled, didn't rest until they were dreaming. And if their sleep was peaceful, it was because they knew he was standing guard. A prayer for him came easily.

Father, they called You the Good Shepherd. I had forgotten that until I met Drew. He thinks he's doing what his earthly father asked, but I think he's doing what You expect and more. Show me how to help him.

Mrs. Wallin and James had cleared away the dishes and were in the back washing up when Drew spoke to Levi again. “How much do you owe?”

His brother seemed to shrink in on himself. “Two hundred.”

“Dollars?” Beth asked with a gasp as Simon hissed in a breath.

Catherine felt her stomach drop. It had cost her three hundred dollars to sail from Boston to Seattle, money she'd saved from the sale of her father's house. Two hundred would surely be a huge burden to this family.

“Where did you lay your hands on so much money?” John asked with a frown as if he could not make the sum add up in his head.

“I told you,” Levi snapped. “They let me play on credit.”

“Knowing your family would make good on your debt,” Simon said with a shake of his head.

“I never asked you to pay my debt,” Levi protested, clutching his crutch as if he wanted to swing it at someone. “I told Scout I'd pay his father back. They just didn't like waiting.”

Catherine felt ill. “If they torched your family's barn and beat you because they disliked waiting, I shudder to think what they'll do once they know you can't pay.”

“We'll pay,” Drew said, voice low and hard. “This harassment must end before anyone else is hurt.”

“But we can't let them get away with it,” John argued. “What they did is wrong.”

“Not to mention potentially deadly,” James said, coming back into the room with a towel slung over his shoulder. He lay a hand over his heart. “Not that I hold it against them, seeing how Levi so abused their trust.”

“‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,'” Mrs. Wallin quoted, following James back to the table. “I don't like what Mr. Rankin's done, but I won't see more of my boys hurt because of it.”

They were missing the point. Why was this their fight to begin with?

“Surely this is a matter for the sheriff,” Catherine said, glancing around at them all. “Deputy McCormick said there had been other harassment out this way. Levi can't be the only one to fall into the Rankins' trap. If we tell Deputy McCormick our suspicions about Mr. Rankin and his son, he'll have enough information to at least warn the man off, perhaps even jail him.”

“But suspicion is all we have,” Simon reminded her. “McCormick isn't going to arrest anyone unless he has proof.”

Catherine lay her hand on Levi's shoulder. “And Levi's word and injuries aren't enough?”

Levi cast her a quick glance. She thought he looked surprised that she considered his word important.

“He claims to have fallen out of a tree,” John pointed out.

“And he hasn't actually been the most trusted and respected of citizens,” James added.

Levi slumped under her hand. “I really mucked it up this time.”

“Yes, you did,” James agreed. “But never fear. We still need an annoying little brother to make the family complete, so you might as well keep playing the role. Unless we could get that Gulliver Ward fellow to stand in last minute.” He glanced around at his family, as if seeking approval.

Beth shook her head at his silliness, but Catherine felt Drew's sigh.

“Levi made a mistake,” he said, and she thought he took it personally. “Rankin made a bigger one by destroying property and threatening lives. But the fact of the matter is that Levi owes him money. Like it or not, deserved or not, the debt must be paid.”

The conviction in his voice seemed to build her strength, as well.

Simon did not seem to share it. He leaned forward. “And just how do you intend to pay it? You don't have two hundred dollars.”

Drew's jaw tightened. “I'll go to Yesler, offer him a contract on timber for his sawmill and ask for an advance.”

John snorted. “Yesler doesn't pay on time even after we deliver the wood. I doubt he'll give us money ahead of receipt.”

Now Drew's shoulders were tensing, as well. He was trying to protect his family, as he always did.

“I'll find a way,” he insisted. “I refuse to see this family endangered.”

“And you think the rest of us will sit by contentedly?” Simon asked. He rose from his seat, gaze on Drew's. “I heard Pa that day. He made you head of this family. I know the sacrifices you've made to raise us all. Your clothes wore out, but you made sure ours didn't. You were the first one out in the fields in the morning, the last in at night.”

So he saw it, too. What Catherine couldn't understand was why he sounded so angry about it.

Simon bent and braced both hands on the table so that he and Drew were eye to eye. “You did your job, Drew. We're grown men. It's time you started letting us have a say in how things go around here.”

Catherine leaned back from him. She still disliked his tone, but she realized that he was right. If Drew's brothers took more of a hand in keeping Beth and Levi safe and supporting their mother, it would surely ease Drew's mind. Maybe enough to start the family his mother hoped for him.

Perhaps with her.

Drew was watching his brother. “I never told you to hold your peace,” he said. “Not about family matters.”

“No, but you act as if we're all your responsibility.” Simon straightened. “When something threatens one of us, it threatens us all. I have sixty dollars saved from my cut of the timber. That can go against Levi's debt.”

“I have forty,” John put in. “I can do without a few books for a time.”

“I brought you
Culpeper's
,” Catherine offered, and he beamed.

James fingered his shirt. “I have thirty, but I owe twenty at the mercantile.” He shrugged. “Mr. Howard has commented more than once on my taste in clothing. I could probably get him to pay twenty for my waistcoat.”

Sacrifice, indeed. Not to be outdone, Beth took a deep breath.

“I have three dollars from gifts,” she said, twisting a strand of hair around one finger. “I was saving it for my social dress, but James is right. When will I attend a social?”

Catherine touched her hand. “Sooner than you think.”

Levi glanced around at them. “I can't take your money. I don't deserve it.”

“You certainly don't,” James said. He patted his brother's shoulder. “I believe that's why it's called a gift.”

“That's one hundred and thirty-three,” Simon said. “If we put in the hundred from Captain Collings, we've more than enough.”

“But that money was to go for a plow,” John protested. “And we'll need lumber to repair the barn.”

Catherine clasped her hands together on the table. “I am paid two and a half dollars a week at the hospital. I've saved five dollars, and I have it with me. You are welcome to it.”

They all stared at her.

James spoke first, tugging down on his smoke-stained shirtsleeves. “If you had told us you were such an heiress, Catherine, I might have tried harder to wedge my way into your affections.”

Drew's hand came down on hers, warm and firm. “Thank you, Catherine.” He looked to his brothers. “It seems we're all in this together, then.”

Together. A family. Oh, but that was what she hoped they soon might be.

* * *

They set out the next morning. Drew wasn't sure what to expect at the Rankins', but he'd agreed that Catherine should come with them. She'd fought for her place at his side when they'd laid out their plans around the table last night.

“Having a lady with you may make him think twice about his behavior,” she'd insisted, eyes bright with fervor.

Levi had snorted. “You've never met Mr. Rankin.”

“You're right,” she'd admitted. “I haven't had the pleasure.”

“Believe me, it's not a pleasure,” James had assured her.

“He's proved he cares about nothing but money,” Drew had agreed. “He could have killed us all or damaged acres of timber by torching the barn. It's not safe for you to come with us, Catherine.”

“Then it's not safe for you to go, either,” she'd insisted. “You cannot expect me to sit idly by while you are in danger.”

His brothers should have done more to help him counter her logic, but instead they had all grinned at her.

“I've always admired a woman willing to fight for those she loves,” James had said. “That and one with a good head of hair.”

She had ignored him. “And Scout. I promised myself I'd look in on the boy. I'm convinced his father is beating him.”

That might be, but the thought that Catherine might fall under those fists as well had made his back stiffen, his fingers tighten. He'd wanted to argue further, but she'd laid a hand on his arm. “If anyone is hurt, Drew, I want to be there to help.”

As always, that logic he could not defeat. So Catherine was walking in front of him when they left at first light that morning.

“Be careful,” she murmured as they started into the trees. “You don't know how Mr. Rankin will react. If he gambles all night as Levi said, he may not take kindly to visitors so early in the morning.”

Drew was counting on it.

Only an old game trail, heavily overgrown, led between the two claims. They went single file, Simon at the head, Drew at the back. James held the bushes so John could help Levi and Catherine could come through with her wide brown skirts. The boy had tried to remain behind, worried that his injured leg would slow them down.

“You started this,” Simon had told him. “It's only right you be there to finish it.”

Now they moved quietly, his brothers with axes in their hands and knives at their waists. James carried his rifle, but Drew had warned everyone use their weapon only for protection. Catherine carried her bandbox, which she'd packed with the bandages Levi had rolled and some medical supplies she had brought from town this time. Drew only hoped she'd have no call to use any of them.

The Rankin cabin was set near the shore of the lake, drowned trees lying like giant needles in the mud all around it. Scout had once bragged that his father let the water do his clearing for him.

But it didn't look as if Rankin had worked on his land in any other way. Blackberries had overtaken the vegetable patch, and a few chickens pecked among the weeds of the yard. The log cabin looked nearly as deserted, standing silent as they approached.

The Rankins had never bothered to install glass in their windows. Shutters closed up the house like the shell of a turtle. Only smoke trickling from the chimney, rising to meet the gray clouds, said someone might be home. But a new hitching post had been built in front of the house, resin still dripping from the timber, and the dirt around it had been packed solid, as if any number of horses had waited for owners busy inside. Somewhere near to hand, Drew caught the acrid scent of fermenting grain.

As his brothers fanned out across the yard, Catherine behind Simon for her protection, Drew nodded to Levi, who limped up to the door and banged on it. “Mr. Rankin? It's Levi Wallin. I have your money.”

Inside came thuds and a raised voice before Benjamin Rankin yanked open the weathered door. A large man with ample folds around his thick neck and a protruding belly, his eyes squinted against the light. The sneer on his flabby face quickly vanished as he spied Drew and the others in the yard.

James raised the rifle, but Drew thought Catherine's glare was far more effective in making the man take a step back.

“We don't want any trouble,” Drew assured Rankin. “Pay the man what you owe, Levi.”

Levi shoved the sack of silver and gold coins at the man. “Two hundred, just like we agreed.”

Rankin spat a stream of something yellow into the yard, as if the sight of the money left a bad taste in his mouth. “You forgot the interest.”

Drew stiffened. So did Catherine and Levi.

“Interest?” his youngest brother cried. “You never said anything about interest.”

Rankin shrugged with a roll of muscle and fat. “Didn't think I had to. Goes without saying that there's interest on a loan. You get to use my money. I get a consideration.” He opened the sack and dug a thick finger into the coins, making them clink against each other. “I see no consideration here.”

“How very inconsiderate of us,” James quipped. “What do you say, Drew? Shall we pay Mr. Rankin back the same way he paid Levi?”