The Claim (6 page)

Mr. Russell grunted. “They might not even bother asking.”

“Mr. Russell,” I said, “they would not dare, would they? Things have been quite peaceful.”

And this was true. The settlers and Indians lived together agreeably. In fact, the settlers would have been unable to run their oyster businesses without the Indians. They depended on them for help in harvesting the oysters.

Keer-ukso leaned over. “Boston Jane is right,” he said with a grin. “All these new people are good. There will be jobs and more money for us!”

With the recent influx of pioneers on the bay, the Chinook found their labor in great demand.

“Yes,” Mr. Swan said enthusiastically. “Our little community is growing by leaps and bounds. And I firmly believe that our new arrivals will see that they can profit by developing a good relationship with you.” He paused, looking around. “Speaking of profit, anyone care for a friendly wager?”

“Mr. Swan!” I hissed. Gambling had gotten Mr. Swan into trouble in the past.

“Just one game, dear girl. To win back what I lost last week!”

I looked across at Cocumb, who shook her head in silent communion.

Cocumb turned to her husband, a shadow of worry in her eyes. “What if Mr. Russell’s right?”

“Don’t you worry none,
nayka klootchman
.” M’Carty hugged her to him and laughed heartily. “Nothing’s gonna happen as long as I have breath in this body of mine. I take care of my own.”

Mr. Russell belched.

  When I returned to the hotel, Mr. Frink was carrying one of Sally’s trunks down the hall. I followed him as he shouldered it … into my room! Sally was standing in the middle of the
space, her possessions arrayed everywhere. A pile of her trunks rested in the corner where my desk had once been. Mrs. Frink was standing next to her.

“You can put it right there,” Sally said to Mr. Frink. He put it down and straightened, rubbing his shoulder.

Sally turned and noticed me standing in the doorway.

“Oh, Jane darling,” she said. “I was just telling Mrs. Frink how sweet you were to suggest that we change rooms. You’re such a dear friend to remember that I have trouble sleeping unless there is a good cross breeze. The air does seem better in this room.”

My mouth dropped open so wide, I’m surprised a bird didn’t fly into it.

“That’s why our Jane is the best concierge on the bay!” Mrs. Frink gushed.

“She certainly is,” Sally agreed with a smile.

The next morning, after
my chores were finished, I decided to go over to my claim to see how my house was coming along, and with particular interest now that I had been kicked out of my room.

Not that anyone knew what had really happened. Mrs. Frink thought Sally was perfectly charming.

“Such a nice young lady. And so thoughtful,” Mrs. Frink said. “Do you know that she said this is one of the nicest hotels she’s ever stayed at! I was so touched.”

As I walked along the windswept shore, the salty breeze tangling my hair, I pondered news more worrisome than Sally Biddle.

William was back on Shoalwater Bay, no doubt stirring up trouble.

These thoughts of my father’s old apprentice brought a longing for Papa so deep, I could barely breathe. Papa had died of consumption after I left to come west to marry William. My dear,
sweet father who used to have me sit on sailors’ bellies while he set their broken legs.

“A man won’t scream so much if a little girl’s sitting on his belly, Janey,” he liked to say with a wink.

Papa had not believed that William was worthy of me, but he had not lived to learn that I had discovered as much. I had been preparing to return home when I received word of my father’s death. It still broke my heart to think that Papa had died all alone, and all because I had foolishly followed William out west.

I was smitten by William at first glance. With his bright blond hair and handsome gray eyes, William had appeared to be an angel fallen to earth, and I had done everything in my young way to please him, down to wearing only green dresses, which he claimed suited me. It was he who had encouraged me to enter Miss Hepplewhite’s, and he who had counseled me on the importance of fitting in with other girls, like Sally.

He took advantage of my girlhood infatuation, coaxing me with love letters to join him on Shoalwater Bay, against my father’s better judgment. I learned too late that William had sent me a proposal of marriage only because a married man could claim twice as much land as an unmarried man. When my ship was delayed, William, fearing that he would lose out on his precious land, took an Indian wife.

It saddened me to think that Papa had been right after all. But I also liked to think that Papa would have been proud of how well his wild, red-haired daughter had survived.

As I neared my claim, I felt my heart ease at the sight of my
land. It had been a gift to me from Jehu. Only white men were allowed to have claims in Washington Territory. In order to get around this little problem, Jehu had simply written “J. Peck” on my paperwork, and no one was the wiser.

Up on the grassy hill, I saw evidence that Jehu and Keer-ukso had been hard at work. Part of the roof was up, and various tools and supplies were scattered about. But no one was in sight.

“Jehu!” I called.

“Over here, Boston Jane,” I heard Keer-ukso shout from somewhere behind the house.

I made my way toward a shelter of trees, where Keer-ukso stood staring down at the ground and shaking his head.

“Boston Jane, tell Jehu that the hole is big enough and to come help finish roof,” Keer-ukso said.

I peered down into the deep hole to see Jehu, covered head to toe in mud, digging away.

“What are you doing down there?” I asked.

He grinned up at me. “Digging you a privy!”

I reddened.

Keer-ukso clucked his tongue. “It’s deep enough. Come help with roof.”

Jehu rubbed a dirty forearm across his face, leaving a brown smear. “I reckon you’re right. What do you think, Jane?” he teased.

“It’s quite adequate,” I said primly.

Jehu looked up to Keer-ukso. “Here, give me a hand up.”

We three walked back to my house, and then I stood with Keer-ukso while Jehu went down to the stream to wash off.

Keer-ukso patted me on the arm. “Jehu, he is crazy to dig that hole.”

“Would you dig a hole for Spaark?”

“
Nowitka,
” he said, his expression serious.
Nowitka
meant certainly. A mischievous gleam entered his eye. “But I would have Jehu do the digging!”

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Jehu asked.

Jehu stood at the edge of the clearing, his skin slick with a fine sheen of water. He looked so handsome standing there, his black curly hair brushing the nape of his neck, his face tanned from years at sea. My heart gave a little flip just looking at him.

“I am telling Boston Jane that you have no sense,” Keer-ukso said.

But Jehu was barely listening to him. He was staring at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his, and I blushed under his knowing gaze, hastily pushing a rather vexing lock of hair off my forehead. Jehu caught my eye and gave me a little wink.

“Have time for a cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice husky, the tilt of his head rakish as any self-respecting pirate’s.

“I need to get back to help organize supper.”

“Not so fast, Miss Peck,” Jehu teased, easily grabbing my hand in his warm larger one and tugging me in the direction of his house. “I reckon you can spare a minute for the man who dug your privy.”

Keer-ukso looked up at the sky in mock irritation. “No, do not ask
me
, best friend and business partner, if
I
want coffee?”

Jehu looked back at Keer-ukso and grinned. “Go on and get started. I’ll bring you some on the roof in a moment.”

Keer-ukso scoffed.

Jehu had taken a claim on a piece of land bordering mine, and on it stood a small, sturdy cabin. It was tidy and smelled good, like him. I took a seat at the table—a beautiful piece of furniture, the top hewn from a single piece of cedar. Jehu was a marvelous carpenter, having worked for so many years on ships.

He gently pushed a curl off my forehead and tucked it behind my ear, brushing his lips against my cheek. I leaned into him, the stress of hearing news of William Baldt melting away in the face of Jehu’s easy company.

“Let me get that coffee,” he murmured.

I felt a warm tingle in my belly as I surreptitiously watched him add three sugars and a careful pour of milk to one mug. It was exactly the way I liked it.

Miss Hepplewhite would have been appalled to see Jehu do the pouring. She believed it was a lady’s duty to entertain a gentleman, and pouring tea and coffee was held in particularly high esteem. But as Jehu handed me the mug and I took my first sweet, perfect sip, I knew that Miss Hepplewhite had been most mistaken. Truly, there was nothing better this side of heaven than having Jehu Scudder pour my coffee.

“When do you think the house will be finished?” I asked.

“I reckon we can have you in by the Fourth of July.”

“Marvelous!” I said.

“When we have the lumber mill up and running, things will be a lot easier.” He leaned forward, his eyes intent. “I tell you,
Jane, this lumber mill is going to make a fortune. The way me and Keer-ukso have it figured, we have good relations with most of the settlers, and people are starting to clear their land. Whoever gets a mill up first will get the best contracts, and we aim for it to be us.

“All we need now is some capital. Sooner or later, some prospector is going to turn up with a pocketful of gold, and I’ll be just the man to invest in,” he said.

Jehu had been a successful sea captain, but he had given up the sea to remain here on Shoalwater Bay and make a life with me. What if he couldn’t succeed in this dream? I would do anything I could to make his new venture successful, but unfortunately I had no connections in such matters, nor did I have funds. Several months before, I had written our family solicitor in Philadelphia requesting him to send me the details of my inheritance from my father, but I had heard no reply as yet. I actually had no idea how much money there was from the sale of our house on Walnut Street, although I feared it would never be enough to help Jehu.

“Keer-ukso and I will be rich men one day, mark my words,” he said with a touch of rakish confidence. One black curl flopped across his forehead.

And then Jehu leaned across the table and kissed me, a kiss sweeter than the very sugar in my coffee. It tasted like hope and the future all wrapped up together in one long heartbeat.

“Oh, Jehu,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just know you’ll succeed.”

“But only if I get back to work.” He tweaked my nose. “Now I best go take Keer-ukso some coffee before he gets irritable.”

“Keer-ukso never gets irritable,” I said.

“You haven’t seen him without his coffee.”

I punched him in the arm and he chuckled.

  Mrs. Frink was waiting for me in the kitchen when I returned to the hotel. And she was looking decidedly ruffled.

“Jane,” she said, working at sounding calm, “there’s a gentleman in the parlor who would like to speak to you.”

“Really?” I asked. “Did he give his name?”

Mrs. Frink cast a wary glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice a notch. “No.”

As I rounded the corner, an incredibly gamy scent hit my nose. And then I saw the enormous bundle of fur sitting on the parlor’s best settee.

“Hairy Bill!” I exclaimed in delight.

“Miss Jane,” he said with a respectful tip of his head.

Hairy Bill was one of Shoalwater Bay’s most notorious men. An accomplished thief, he had been run off the bay the previous fall for stealing. He had gotten his unusual name from the massive cape of animal pelts that he wore everywhere.

“How are you, Mr. Hairy?” I asked.

He removed a rifle from the folds of his furry cape and cackled. “Reckon you didn’t think you’d ever see this again!”

I must admit that I was astonished. I
had
never expected to see that rifle again. M’Carty had lent it to Jehu, but Hairy Bill had disappeared with it following a chance encounter. Although he had left an I.O.U., I recalled.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the rifle from him. “I’m sure M’Carty will be happy to have this back.”

He nodded. “I always settle my debts.”

“Are you supposed to be in town?” I asked carefully.

“I reckon not,” he said, and sniffed the air. “That sure does smell good.”

“Come into the kitchen,” I said with a good-natured laugh.

I set out several serving dishes in front of him—roast chicken, hard-boiled eggs, leftover baked potatoes from the previous night’s supper, oyster pie, fresh milk, and some biscuits from breakfast. It was a feast large enough for several men.

Hairy Bill attacked the food as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in months. In no time at all he had eaten every scrap in sight, and with a satisfied expression on his face, he sat back and belched.

“’Scuse me,” he said. “That was mighty tasty. You sure are a real good cook, Miss Jane.” He leaned back in his chair. “So you work here now?”

“I do,” I said. “And I have a room upstairs.”

“Sure is a nice place,” he said, an edge of longing to his voice.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed.

“And that Jehu feller, how’s he?” he asked with a knowing look.

“Jehu is very well. Thank you for asking.” I blushed.

Hairy Bill chuckled. “He’ll make a good husband, eh?”

I poured us each a cup of tea. “Now you’ve heard all about me. Where have you been?” I asked.

“Jest about everywhere in the territory, I reckon,” he said.

“Weren’t you going to try and woo your wife back?” I asked.

When I had met Mr. Hairy late this past fall, he had
expressed his great desire to win back the love of his wife, who had kicked him out. Clearly I had hit a raw nerve, for the man’s face fell and tears welled in his eyes.

“Well, I paid a preacher feller to write her a letter and sent it, but didn’t hear from her, so I went back to see her,” he mumbled.