A Bride for Noah (8 page)

For the first time, Evie's confidence wavered. She had no idea what it meant to
ross
a tree. These people had a language all their own. They obviously didn't bathe regularly. She and the other ladies would be true foreigners in a land where the rules were different from those at home.

“I've been wondering something.” Noah met her stricken gaze. “Exactly how did your partnership with my uncle come about?”

She made a show of studying the shoreline, thereby avoiding his gaze. Under no circumstances would she tell him she had been his aunt's housemaid. If he thought her nothing more than a servant, he would never take her seriously as a businesswoman. “We met through a mutual friend,” she answered vaguely. “When he received your last letter, we began discussing the opportunities a new settlement in the western frontier presented.” A movement on the shore, off to one side, drew her attention. Thank goodness. An excuse to turn this uncomfortable conversation away from her. Straightening, she pointed. “Who's that?”

A trio stepped out of the forest, though they held themselves apart. They were not as tall as most of the lumberjacks, and were dressed differently. Two wore loose shirts of an indistinct color made from a fabric that seemed to repel the rain. With a start, Evie saw that the third man was nearly naked. He wore nothing but a long fringed skirt hanging low on his hips. They all had dark skin and straight black hair nearly as long as hers.

“Why, those are Red Indians!”

Noah followed her gaze and nodded. “They're Duwamish. Their village lies in that direction, but there are usually a few tribal members hanging around. They like to keep an eye on the camp.”

She turned her shoulders away from Sarah and the others and lowered her voice for Noah's ears alone. “Are they safe?”

His lips twisted sideways into a crooked grin. “You're not losing your nerve, are you?”

“Of course not,” she rushed to reply. “It's only that I feel responsible for the others.”

A shrug. “They're safe enough. Their chief has taken a liking to us.” His glance swept the group of lumberjacks, and his grin faded. “I'm more concerned about the crew than the natives.”

Startled, Evie looked once again at the men who would, hopefully, be her customers. As she watched, two more hurried into the clearing to join the crowd. Their stares were fixed on her and the other ladies, and as the boat drew alongside the wooden platform that served as a dock, she couldn't help but notice their hungry expressions. A shiver crept down her spine. It was not food they craved.

She started to say something to Noah, but he had caught sight of someone.

“There's Arthur.” Relief saturated his voice. He spoke without taking his eyes from the shore. “You ladies stay onboard while I talk to him.”

Evie was only too happy to comply.

A couple of lumberjacks hopped onto the dock and caught ropes thrown to them by the sailors onboard. Noah didn't wait for the lines to be secured, but climbed up on the railing and leaped onto the platform before the boat had completely stopped its forward movement. Wiping a splattering of rain from her eyes, Evie couldn't help but admire the effortless way he landed and strode forward without even a pause. He wasn't as tall or as broad-chested as some of the men on the land, but he moved with an athletic grace that a heavier man could not have managed.

Lucy turned away from the railing and fixed eyes clouded with doubt on her. “Where are the houses?”

She almost asked
what houses,
but swallowed the words. Surely when the women who lived here heard of their arrival, they would
open their homes until suitable housing could be arranged. “Noah said they are a little distance away.”

Ethel's thick eyebrows drew together. “Not too far, I hope. There's no sign of a carriage, and I don't fancy trudging through this rain.”

Sarah swept a hand across the sodden shoulder of her coat and water splashed onto the ship's deck. “What I want are some dry clothes, a warm fire, and a hot cup of tea.”

“As do I.” Evie forced a confident smile onto her face. She had to do something to brighten their scowls. “Look at the bright side. No matter how far the house is, we've arrived safely and the ghastly journey is over. And we won't have to carry our own bags. I think we'll have plenty of volunteers for that.”

The women focused on Noah, who had pulled a tall, dark-haired man aside to converse with him away from the crowd. A hand gestured in their direction. The conversation continued for some minutes, during which the lumberjacks' eager gazes grew weighty enough that even Ethel began to shuffle on her feet uncomfortably.

Miles sidled up to them, and Evie drew close enough to his side that the sleeves of their coats touched. She might still be irritated with him, but at least he was familiar, and no threat.

“Do you know that man Mr. Hughes is talking to?” asked Lucy.

Miles squinted in Noah's direction for a second and then shook his head. “If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that is one of the Denny brothers.”

Ah. The bosses of this lumber venture. Evie turned to study him as he gave a nod and broke away from Noah. The man strode to the platform of the dock with a confident step and planted his boots in the center. When he raised his hands, every man present gave him his attention. Yes, definitely a leader, someone they respected.

“Men, I have an announcement.” His voice, a deep baritone, rang out in the clearing. “As you may have noticed, our ink slinger has brought some visitors with him.”

A loud cheer broke out, and Evie's cheeks grew warm at the wide smiles suddenly fixed on her and her companions.

“Visitors?” she mumbled quietly to Miles. “Did Noah not tell him of our intentions?”

“All in good time, my dear,” came the whispered reply. “Have patience.”

The man on the dock continued. “Before we welcome them ashore, I would like to point out that these are ladies.”

A voice called out from the crowd. “We already figured that out ourselves, Arthur!”

Rough laughter answered him from all quarters.

“Arthur Denny.” Miles gave a satisfied nod. “The leader of the Denny Party. I'm glad we shall meet him first off.”

Arthur raised his hands again and the men fell silent. “You may have noticed that they are female, but I'm telling you they are
ladies.
I expect each and every one of you to treat them as such.” His voice lowered and took on a menacing tone. “The man who doesn't will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Evie let out a breath when the men all murmured agreement. She glanced at Noah, and found him looking at her. He touched a couple of fingers to his forehead in a silent salute and then returned his attention to Arthur.

“All right then. Let's welcome our guests.”

The sailors, who had been waiting until he finished, opened a gate in the ship's railing and lowered a gangway. Miles offered his arm and when Evie took it, escorted her to the ramp. At the top, he halted and stepped aside.

“Ladies first.” He swept a hand toward the ramp in a magnanimous gesture.

Stomach fluttering, Evie glanced at the others and then stepped onto the ramp. At that moment the heavens opened and the steady rain became a downpour. An omen, perhaps? She thrust the thought
aside and lifted her soaked skirts to step forward. Small strips of wood had been nailed in place to supply footing. A good thing, since the leather soles of her shoes were not intended to traverse surfaces such as this.

The bottom of the ramp ended in a step of eight inches in depth. She hesitated, and then stepped forward. When her foot touched the dock, her sole skidded across the sodden surface. She tried to regain her balance, but the toe of her other shoe caught on the edge of the gangway and she pitched forward…

…into the strong arms of a fast-moving lumberjack.

A voice boomed in her ear as she was lifted off the ground. “I gotcha, little lady. Uh, I mean, ma'am.” He flashed a triumphant grin.

Hovering mere inches from her nose was the face of the giant man they had seen from the ship. The thick blond beard covering his face parted to reveal a set of yellow teeth between smiling pink lips. Though thankful that he had saved her an inglorious fall in front of the entire camp, a blast of malodorous breath brought the sting of tears to her eyes.

“Thank you,” she managed, trying hard not to wince at the tightness of the huge hands around her waist.

In the next instant, she was surrounded by a wall of flannel and flesh as the men surged forward, presumably to help the others from the ship. She was carried through the crowd, her shoes hovering at least a foot above the ground. The combined odor of unwashed bodies and dirty wet hair assaulted her nostrils while rain poured down on her from above. The first rule she would make for her restaurant would be a requirement of baths before dining.

Finally clear of the crowd, she was set down. Her feet sank ankle-deep in mud at the exact moment the brim of her hat succumbed to the relentless assault of rainwater and collapsed into her face. She lifted it away from her eyes with a hand that trembled, whether from chill or nerves she didn't know. At the moment she was consumed with both.

Soon Lucy and Sarah were deposited beside her, followed shortly by Ethel. They huddled close to her sides, the object of intense stares from the men who formed a circle around them.

She cleared her throat and raised her voice to be heard above the pounding rain. “Is there someplace dry we can wait while our things are unloaded?”

“Uh, we-ell.” A dark-haired man cocked his head sideways and scratched his beard with a finger. “Thar's the tents back at camp.”

“Tents?” Despair stretched out Lucy's word into something that resembled a wail.

Evie placed an arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezed. “How far is your camp?”

A young man who looked to be around fifteen pointed in the opposite direction from the river. “About half a mile up that-a-way.”

Someone else shoved an elbow into his stomach. “We can't haul them up to camp. There ain't no empty tents, and you heard what Arthur said. These are ladies.”

The youth glared at him. “I didn't mean they'd share with us. We'll have to double up for a while is all.”

Evie spoke before a fight could erupt. “Perhaps there's somewhere we could sit until we figure out where we'll be staying.”

“There's a log over here.” The giant who had carried her shoved a couple of men sideways. “Get out of the way and let the ladies go sit down.”

An opening appeared as men scrambled to move. Someone offered a soaked flannel-covered arm to Evie. When she took it, a dozen more arms were offered to the other girls to help them to their seat. With an effort she pulled her foot out of the mud. Her shoes were unrecognizable. There was a sucking noise beside her and Ethel gave a cry. She stood with one stockinged foot hovering in midair.

“Here, ma'am. I'll get ye.” A lumberjack swept Ethel off her feet while another pried her shoe out of the mud.

In the next moment, Evie found herself also being scooped up in
strong arms and carried across the clearing to be deposited on a dead tree at the edge of the forest. The others were soon seated beside her, Ethel with her muddy shoe in her lap.

“There's naught but a tent to sleep in.” Her tone held the stress they all felt. “No fireplace.”

Lucy shook her head. “No warm bed.”

“Or hot tea either, I wager.” Sarah's shoulders slumped.

“There's coffee,” said one of the men. “Cookee's always got some going. By this time of day it's thick as axel grease, but at least it's hot.”

“No tea?” Ethel sniffled as rain ran in rivers off of her bonnet. “Coffee does merciless things to my digestion.”

Evie patted her leg. “I'm sure the captain will let us have some tea from the ship's stores. We can heat water over the cook's fire.”

“Yes,” agreed Lucy glumly. “But the captain's setting sail tomorrow.”

Ethel sniffed again. “And we'll be left here.”

She dropped her face into her hands and began to weep. In a moment Lucy followed suit, and the misery plain on Sarah's face said she may soon join them. Evie put one arm around Ethel and the other around Lucy and pulled them close, with Sarah huddled on her sister's other side. The men standing around them watched, their faces a series of helpless masks. Though she tried to think of an encouraging word, Evie came up blank. If there was a bright spot in this moment, it was too buried in gloom and rain for her to see.

Someone ran up from outside the group to stand behind their log, and in a moment rain stopped pelting against her head. She turned to find Noah holding a dirty yellow Macintosh like a canopy above her.

“Here, some of you men, take these and give the ladies some shelter.”

He tossed more coats into eager hands, and before long the ladies sat beneath a canopy of rubber and thick wool. Then Noah rounded the log.