A Bride for Noah (35 page)

Without waiting for an answer, the woman tapped Big Dog on the arm. “Now, Mr. Dog, if you begin today, how long do you think it will take?”

Big Dog cast a questioning glance toward Evie, who gave her head a very subtle shake.

He screwed up his face and made a show of examining the area in question. “Well, ma'am, first I gotta cut and split the wood, and that'll take several days. Then I'll have to take out part of that wall, like you said. Have to shore up the roof so it don't collapse. Then
building the steps.” He scratched his scalp. “I'd say three weeks ought to see the job done.”

“Weeks?” Clearly, she had not expected that.

“You don't want the stairs to break down first time you walk up 'em, do you? We gotta do it right. And I can't do it by myself. I'll need to hire help, and that takes money—a lot of money.”

Hiding a smile, Evie turned away. The matter could be safely left in Big Dog's hands.

Louisa stepped through the restaurant door. When she caught sight of Evie, she hurried forward with a hug.

Evie returned the embrace. “I didn't know you were coming today.”

“When Arthur returned last night he was full of excitement about the shipload of men who want to move to Seattle. He was eager to show them around this morning, and I decided to come with him. I thought you might need help feeding them all.”

More likely she wanted to check on her friend after the emotional scene of yesterday. Touched, Evie covered her hand and squeezed. “Thank you. Between Ethel, Lucy, and me, we've managed. But I'm always glad to see you. How about a cup of tea?”

Louisa nodded, but when Evie moved toward the restaurant, stopped her. “I brought other news.” The eyes that looked into Evie's were full of meaning.

She held her breath. “About Noah?”

“An Indian came to the cabin with a note from him last night. He's staying in the Duwamish camp for a few days and says no one should worry about him.”

Relief struck Evie a moment before anger displaced it. “A note to Arthur? How kind of him.”

Louisa answered gently. “The note was not addressed to anyone. He knew Mary or I would tell you. I'm sure it was your mind he wanted to set at ease.”

“Then why did he not send the messenger here?” Evie's tone came
out more bitter than she expected. She smiled to take away the sting. “I'm sorry. At least we know he is safe.”

“Give him time.” Louisa hugged her again. “It will all come out all right in the end. You'll see.”

Evie was about to reply that she had no faith in a happy ending for her and Noah, but a shout reached them. “Ship in the bay!”

Louisa clasped her hands beneath her chin, her eyes shining. “David has returned!”

Another voice, this one heavy with a different meaning, answered. “And Miles with him.”

Evie turned to see Mrs. Coffinger glaring in the direction of the dock. Judging from her searing expression, Miles would not enjoy as pleasant a welcome as David. Well, if the woman wished to do harm to her husband, she would have to stand in line behind Evie.

The announcement of the ship's arrival echoed through the Duwamish camp. Noah crawled out of the hut Chief Seattle had been kind enough to assign him to find the camp astir. Not the excitement the settlers exhibited at the same news, but the call was noted. A handful of braves gathered in the central area, preparing to go to the dock to observe the arrival of yet another of the white men's ships.

The chieftain exited his longhouse, his expression placid as he nodded permission. The men left, several with curious glances in Noah's direction. Seattle watched their departure, and then approached Noah.

“You do not welcome your friends on the ship?” he asked in his language.

Noah did the translation in his mind. Though he wanted to hear David's news of the lumber shipment, and would love to see the moment when Uncle Miles first saw Aunt Letitia, he knew Evie
would be there. Maybe even with her fiancé at her side. He shook his head. “I will see them soon enough.”

For a long moment the chief studied him. “I wish to see this ship. Come.”

Without waiting for Noah's reply, he strode through the camp. Had he followed his men in the direction of the dock, Noah might have refused to accompany him. But Seattle took a path in the opposite direction. He glided through the forest, his deerskin shoes making no sound and leaving no sign of his passage. Though Noah tried to so the same, the sound of his boots crunching through the leaf-covered ground were nearly as loud in his ears as Ethel's tin plate and spoon.

In five minutes' time they reached a place where the land ended abruptly. The forest grew right up to the edge of a grassy overhang that looked down on Elliott Bay. Ten minutes' hike to the left lay the settlement that bore the chief's name, though outcroppings in the land hid the dock from view. The water today looked dark and murky in the absence of direct sunlight. To Noah's right, a ship sailed in the bay, its bow pointed toward the unseen dock.

Chief Seattle advanced to the very edge of the bluff, where he stood with his arms folded over his chest, watching the ship's progress. Noah hung back, not confident of his balance on what might turn out to be soft soil. Or maybe he didn't wish to be seen from the ship's deck.

It was the
Commodore.
Noah recognized her familiar lines and spotted David at the railing as she glided past. A few other men stood beside him, though no one that looked like Uncle Miles.

The chief remained silent until her stern had passed. Then he spoke without turning. “Why are you sleeping in my village?”

“I will leave if you want.”

He did not reply, but waited for an answer to his question.

Noah dislodged a half-buried twig with the toe of his boot. “I need a place to think. Sometimes white men talk so much we can't hear our own thoughts. Your people aren't like that.”

The chief's shoulders lifted with a silent laugh.

“I guess I need guidance, and I can't seem to get it there.” The words came from Noah's aching heart, from deep within the confusion of his thoughts. Would the Duwamish chief offer him wise advice? Noah sure didn't have any of his own right now.

Chief Seattle's answer, when it came, surprised him. “Our God is your God.”

“I know that,” he said quietly.

“Then why do you think you will hear Him here, when you don't listen to Him there?”

Before Noah could come up with a response, the chief turned. Though his expression was as impassive as ever, kindness showed in the dark depths of his eyes. “You are welcome to stay as long as you need.”

He left, moving as silently as before, but his words resonated in Noah's soul long after he was gone.

Evie and Louisa maneuvered themselves to the front of the group assembled on the beach as the
Commodore
put in to port. Mrs. Coffinger stood beside them with a glower dark enough to frighten away a pack of prowling wolves.

“There he is.” Louisa bounced, her hand waving in the air. “David! Over here!”

While the ropes were secured, Evie scanned the ship's deck. No sign of Miles. How curious. Had he somehow gotten wind of his wife's arrival in Seattle and decided not to return? If that were the case, she would personally assist Mrs. Coffinger in tracking him down so she could exact her revenge.

David leaped from the ship before the gangway was secured and gathered Louisa in his arms. Then he turned to Arthur, who stood waiting nearby, and announced in a voice loud enough to be heard
by all, “Success! We've been offered a standing contract for as much timber as we can produce.”

A cheer went up from the watchers.

Mrs. Coffinger surged forward and spoke in a voice that cut through the joyful shouts. “Young man, where is my husband?”

While Louisa performed a hasty introduction, Evie joined them on the dock.

“Yes, where is Miles?” she asked. “Did he arrange for my supplies? Did he pay the bank?”

David gave them both an uncomfortable look. “Miles encountered a bit of trouble with his pickled salmon.”

Oh, no.

Wincing, Evie braced herself. “He couldn't find a buyer?”

“Oh, yes. He found buyers aplenty. So many they were trying to outbid each other right there on the pier in San Francisco. But when he opened the first barrel to give them a sample, the fish was spoiled.”

“Spoiled?”

David wrinkled his nose. “The stench was horrible. He insisted there must be something wrong with that barrel, and opened another.” He shook his head. “They were all the same.”

In an instant, Evie knew what happened. “The salt. I suspected he didn't use enough, but he insisted he had everything in hand.” If Miles was unable to sell his salmon, then that meant he had no money. “Was he able to purchase any of my supplies?”

“A few.” He gave her a sorrowful look. “Not many, I'm afraid.”

Evie closed her eyes, the reality of her situation striking her like a fist. Customers she had aplenty, but with no supplies and no food to cook, how could she repay the bank loan? What would they do to her when she couldn't make the payments? Send someone to take control of the restaurant? Arrest her and take her to prison, perhaps?

A gloved hand grasped hers, and she opened her eyes. To her surprise, Mrs. Coffinger had moved near and now gave her a comforting pat. “Don't worry, Evangeline. We will get this straightened
out one way or another.” She spoke to David. “And what of Miles? Did he choose the coward's way and desert us in our time of need?”

A look of disgust settled on David's face, which he quickly replaced with a politely blank expression. “No, ma'am, though to be honest I wish he had. It would have made this journey a lot more pleasant.” He scanned the ship's deck, and then shouted in that direction. “Emory, would you go below and wake Mr. Coffinger?”

A member of the crew nodded and disappeared down a ladder.

“What of the minister?” Louisa searched David's face. “Were you able to find one willing to come?”

“Not a minister, no.” Her face fell, but he hugged her. “Don't worry, Sweetbriar. I found someone to perform the ceremony.”

A man's head appeared from the ship's berth. Evie recognized Miles's shaggy gray hair and beard, though he looked far more disheveled than usual. He must have been sleeping deeply, and obviously emerged without taking the time to make himself presentable.

“There he is.”

Miles lurched through the opening in the deck as though shoved from below. His arms waved and legs danced for balance in the moment before he went sprawling. Emory appeared behind him and helped him to his feet.

“Take note, my dear,” said Mrs. Coffinger with a nod in that direction. “It is impossible to make a suitably grand entrance on a ladder. One needs a staircase.”

Evie couldn't help smiling at the observation. Yes, a woman of Mrs. Coffinger's temperament would insist on a grand entrance.

Louisa paid no attention to Miles. “But who will marry us if not a minister?”

“A justice of the peace.” David raised his voice to be heard. “Our town is now officially named Seattle, and the Oregon Territorial Legislature has appointed our first official.”