The Lumberjack's Bride (7 page)

She didn't want to stumble upon those things either, but she had promised Maggie the laundry would be ready after lunch. Julianne chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe if she carried a big walking stick and made lots of noise nothing would bother her.

“Are you afraid to stay alone, now?”

Julianne raised her gaze to his. “No. If I stay close to the house, do you think I'll be okay?”

He gathered up his coat and hat. “You'll be fine. Just don't pick up any cute or cuddly animals.” Caleb opened the door to leave.

“I won't.” She followed him out onto the porch.

Caleb turned to her. “Are you sure you'll be okay? You can always come with me, and I'll drop you off at the cookshack.”

Julianne dusted imaginary flour from her apron. “No, I'll be fine here.” She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

He pulled her into his arms and gave her a quick hug. “I'll see you tonight, then.” Caleb released her and headed for the barn and his horse.

Was that a flicker of pride she'd seen in his eyes?

Julianne didn't think he'd be too proud of her if he knew her plans for the morning.

As soon as he rode away and she was certain he wasn't coming back, Julianne rushed back inside to her bedroom. She pulled the bag of dirty clothes from under her bed.

The odor from the soiled clothes stung her nose, and she made a mental note to hide them someplace else. What if Caleb got a whiff of them?

“Jonathan, you and I have a lot of work to do today.” She peered into the crib, talking in a soothing voice, hoping he would wake in a good mood. “I'm glad you can't talk. You'd tell on me for sure.” She changed his diaper with experienced speed.

The baby hadn't played a part in her earlier plans, and now she had to figure out how to do the laundry and watch him at the same time. She carried Jonathan to the kitchen and warmed milk for his bottle.

“You'll just have to come with me.” She squirted a couple of drops of milk on the inside of her wrist to test that it wasn't too hot. Satisfied, she popped the bottle into the baby's mouth. Her mind worked as he drank. “I can pull the bag behind me and carry you. But how am I going to get the clean clothes back without dragging them and getting them dirty again?” Julianne gent­ly chewed the inside of her lip.

Jonathan emptied the bottle and his eyes began to drift shut.

“Oh, no you don't, little man. You have to be burped first.” She draped a dish towel over her shoulder and then laid the baby against it. As she patted his back, her gaze moved about the room. A large basket sat in one corner full of blankets and extra bedding.

Jonathan burped and the sound scared him. He flailed his little arms and in the process, grabbed a strand of her hair. Julianne chuckled, and patiently untangled his fingers as she placed him on her bed.

She picked up the basket and dumped its contents beside him. “This will work nicely.” She scooped him up, blankets and all, and laid him in the basket. Satisfied he would be okay, Julianne picked up the basket and baby, testing the weight.

They were a little heavy but she felt sure she could make it to the river and back with no problems. Julianne balanced the basket on her hip and bent down to grab the bag of laundry.

“This isn't so bad. I can do this.” Julianne made it to the door. She dropped the laundry bag and opened the heavy wooden door, pulled the bag through, dropped it again and closed the door. Beads of sweat trickled down her spine. Julianne glanced down at the baby. He slept soundly with a small thumb securely in his mouth.

She blew pent-up air from her lungs, picked up the bag again and pulled it down the steps and across the yard.

The thought of cougars, bears and snakes slowed her footsteps. Would Caleb lie to keep her from leaving the house? Was it a deliberate manipulation of her thoughts, much as her uncle used to make her do as he wanted? She remembered the serious expression on his face as he'd offered his explanation this morning.

Caleb was a man of God. Julianne knew deep in her heart he hadn't lied to her. She forced her fears back and began to quote the twenty-third psalm.

“‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.'”

Julianne swallowed hard. She thought about the words she'd just spoken. They were the only verses she knew, and at the moment they didn't give her a sense of well-being. Still, she mentally repeated the words as she stepped into the darkness of the woods.

Unease washed over her. Julianne knew she'd misled Caleb with her nod when he'd told her not go into the woods without him. But she comforted herself that she really didn't say she wouldn't go. She'd nodded and that could have meant she understood what he was saying.

She left the path and entered the tall trees. The shade from their branches immediately cooled her brow and made her feel better. Movement in the underbrush quickened her footsteps.

Julianne forced herself not to run. She focused on the sunshine that peeked through the trees in front of her. The weight of the laundry bag pulled on her arm and snagged on every root on the forest floor.

The sound of running water met her ears. As soon as she exited the trees, Julianne saw the source of the sound.

The river rushed along in front of her. A small shallow stream broke off from the main body, making it the perfect place to do laundry.

She set the baby down by the water's edge, but not too close. Rolling her skirt up at the waist, she waded out to a big protruding rock, and then bent and tied the drawstring bag to her leg. Warm water sloshed about her body. She hadn't realized until she'd entered the water that it must be some branch of a hot spring.

The wet clothes became a heavy pull against her body, but most of the stench would be gone by the time she applied the soap and scrubbed them against a rock. She'd hang the clean clothing on the bushes that lined the riverbank.

Lost in the mundane task, Julianne recalled Caleb's warning of the dangers if she strayed too far from the cabin. What would he do if he found out she'd disobeyed him? The thought of the woodshed behind the cabin came to mind, and she shivered in spite of the heat.

Her face burned as she remembered his quick hug this morning. He'd made her feel like a woman. A desirable woman. Would she be treated like a child for disobeying him?

She allowed her subconscious thoughts to surface. Since the death of her parents, fear and abuse had been her constant companions. Her uncle had not only beaten her, he'd also told her she was no better than a servant. The mental abuse had been worse than the physical. The most hurtful thing of all had been her aunt's willing consent to this treatment, always quoting Bible passages about discipline. Was this the way Caleb believed? If so, she was in a heap of trouble and the woodshed could be the least of it. Julianne scrubbed the clothes, unaware of the passage of time.

Jonathan's whimpering pulled her from her reflections. She straightened. Arching her back, she looked up into the afternoon sky. Had she really been washing clothes that long? Drying clothes rested over rocks and branches all around her. Her back and neck ached from leaning over the water.

Since Jonathan didn't appear in too much distress, she decided to finish the last two shirts. She knew he had to be hungry and wet. She'd forgotten clean diapers, and not realizing the laundry would take so long, she'd counted on the bottle she'd fed him earlier to be sufficient until she returned to the cabin.

The whimpering turned into angry screeches, and she hurried from the water with the two now-clean shirts. As she passed the basket, she looked at the baby, torn between caring for him and finishing her job. His little face had turned bright red and he waved his fist about.

“I'm sorry, Jonathan,” she called, hoping her voice would calm him. She hung the garments and began to gather the dry ones, folding them and laying them on a fairly clean rock on the river bank.

She raised her voice to cover the wails now interspersed with gasps for breath, he was crying so hard. “I'm hurrying, sweetheart. We'll be home in a few minutes.”

She turned her back on him and continued to fold the clothes. A sense of inadequacy swept over her. Maybe this job was too much for her.

But you've done this since you were twelve
, her mind argued. Everything was so new to her. Baby Jonathan, Caleb. This vast Washington territory. She should take it easy and get used to things before taking on such a venture. Her husband had paid her debt. She was free. If she didn't want to, she didn't have to do laundry.

But you owe him,
her conscience nagged.

Jonathan's cries stopped. She heard him sucking and sighed. “Poor baby.” He had a habit of sucking his fist when the bottle didn't get there fast enough. Julianne knew it would be a short reprieve, so she hurriedly folded the last shirt and turned toward the baby.

“No!” The guttural cry tore from her throat.

Chapter 7

T
he Indian woman looked up from the baby at her breast. White teeth flashed as a smile trembled through the tears running down her face. Two braves stood guard behind her, their arms crossed over their chests. Julianne stumbled toward them, sheer black fright building fearful images in her mind. She fell on her knees in front of the woman.

She pointed at Jonathan whose small fist clasped the woman's hand, which lay protectively on the side of his head. The sound of slurping blended in with the gentle lapping of water.

“Mine,” Julianne stammered. “He's mine.” Blood rushed to her head causing the breath to squeeze from her lungs. She placed a finger against the pulse in her neck to stem the rapid flow. She would
not
pass out now.

Julianne reached for Jonathan, and one of the men stepped forward in silent threat. She sat back on her heels waiting for a blow that didn't come. She looked up into the face of the warrior closest to her and wondered what tragedy could bring such sorrow to a person's eyes. Neither man made another move; they just stood silently, watching the young woman feed Jonathan.

Fresh tears joined the tracks already on the woman's face. She nodded once and brushed the hair off Jonathan's forehead. Long after Jonathan fell asleep, she gent­ly removed the baby from her breast and held him out for Julianne to take.

Afraid she might change her mind Julianne snatched him to her chest, rocking back and forth, barely stopping the moan threatening to escape. Her gaze moved back to the men. Displeasure showed briefly in their expressions before they melted into the trees, taking the woman with them.

Julianne began to shake and found it difficult to stand. Keeping her eyes on the forest where the Indians disappeared, she backed toward the river. As quickly as her trembling body would allow, she tossed the clothes and empty bag into the basket. She laid Jonathan on top of the clean clothes and ran back through the woods to the cabin. Her heart pounded and her chest felt as if it might burst as she hurried up the steps and through the door.

Inside, Julianne set the basket and baby on the floor and dropped the bar over the door. Would it be enough to keep the Indians out?

She scooped up Jonathan and hugged him close. He was so tiny and she'd put him in grave danger. When had the baby become a part of her? Never in her life had she been so afraid for another human being.

He cried out at being awakened so roughly. Julianne didn't mind the noise. She was just thankful he was safe as she changed his diaper. Even after his eyes began to close, she refused to put him down. Julianne stared into his face, memorizing his precious features. She'd put him in danger by her disobedience. A beating in the woodshed wouldn't begin to erase the pain in her heart if something had happened to her baby.

Her baby.
She felt a mother's intense love for this child. The shock of this discovery hit her full force, and she took a quick breath of utter astonishment.

Someone began pounding on the door.

Julianne jumped from the chair, then froze, fearful the slightest movement might alert the person outside to her whereabouts in the cabin. Had the Indians followed her home? Had the woman changed her mind and returned for the baby? Well, they could not have him. She looked around the room for a weapon of some type.

“Julianne, let me in.” Maggie's voice penetrated the door and the fear.

Her relief altered instantly into action. She ran across the room, opened the heavy door and pulled Maggie inside.

“What took you so long? I've got to get back and start supper for those men. Wish I had more time to jaw with you, but I don't.” She looked into Julianne's face. “What's wrong girl?”

Julianne placed the bar back into the metal slots on each side of the door.

“Nothing. I'm just tired.” Julianne hugged Jonathan's small warm body to her. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she didn't want to tell anyone about the scare she'd experienced.

Worry laced Maggie's face. “Has the little tyke been giving you a hard time?”

“A little.” Julianne smoothed the shirt over his small back.

“Well, it does my old heart good to see you caring for him as if he were your own. I was afraid you might not take to the little feller. Here, why don't you let me hold him while you get those clothes ready?” Reluctantly Julianne transferred Jonathan's warm body into Maggie's waiting arms. Maggie took the baby and sat in one of the kitchen chairs.