Rainy Day Dreams: 2 (40 page)

Stay in Seattle permanently? Kathryn’s gaze slid over her sister’s shoulder to the other side of the knoll, where Jason stood watching them. “Yes. I think I will.”

With a deep breath, Susan nodded. “All right then. I can leave him in Aunt Katie’s capable care.”

Relief washed over her. “I knew you’d do the right thing.”

The cocky grin returned. “I’m taking the money, of course. Been thinking about heading south. I hear those boys down in Texas really know how to have a good time.”

With a toss of dark curls, she sauntered off in the direction of the Faulkner House.

Kathryn watched her go. Who knew? Maybe Susan would find herself a cowboy and settle down.

Miracles did happen.

Heads turned to watch Susan flounce down the hill, but Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from the other twin. Finally, an opportunity to speak with her alone. He excused himself and crossed the space between them before she could get away.

Problem was, his tongue felt as though someone had jerked a
knot in it, and all he could do was stand there, looking down at her. How could he ever have thought they looked alike? There was no hint of her sister’s cocksure conceit in the guileless green eyes fixed on his, only an open and genuine intelligence and a lovely spirit that reached straight into his chest and squeezed his heart to a halt.

Her lips parted, and she spoke in a soft voice. “I was hoping I’d have a chance to thank you.” A blush colored her cheeks. “I can’t believe I fainted again.”

An automatic reply rose to his lips, a dismissal that he’d done nothing more than any one of the men in Seattle would have done. But a light breeze stirred her hair, and the words would not come. He reached up to brush his fingers across the fizzled ends, the realization of how close that bullet had come slamming into him.

“It’s a miracle you weren’t killed,” he said.

She gave a little laugh. “This has been a day of miracles.”

“I didn’t know you had a twin,” he blurted. “Or that you’d been arrested.”

Her smile faded. “Does it matter? Do you think badly of me?”

The concern on her face softened the edges of the awkwardness that held his tongue hostage. She cared about his opinion. Did that mean she cared for him?

“I could never think badly of you,” he said gently. The smile returned, tinted with relief. Swallowing against a lump, he went on. “Beth was an ardent supporter of Susan Anthony. She always wanted to go to New York to attend a rally.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sure you miss her very much.”

He didn’t answer. Yes, of course he missed Beth. He couldn’t imagine a time when the memory of her death wouldn’t twist his soul with grief.

And yet…

Anger crept over him. What was happening to him? He’d come to Seattle to find a place where he could live in peace with his grief. To find solace in the company of other lonely men, without
constantly being reminded of his loss. To escape the presence of women.

Lord, what’s happening to me?

“What’s wrong?” Kathryn laid a hand on his arm, alert to the sudden change in his mood.

His pulse beat like a drum in his ears. Even her touch had the power to cloud his thoughts. The impact of that realization struck him.

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” He had to say it, had to get it out before his brain had a chance to catch up with his heart and stop him. The words spilled out, tumbling over a tongue that refused to be still. “I’ve only just realized that…I’m in love with you.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Frightening realization, isn’t it?”

“It scares me to death.”

A slow grin spread over her lips and crept upward to ignite sparkles in her eyes. “I know how you feel, Jason. Today really is a day of miracles, because I love you too.”

A day of miracles. Yes, the Lord had heard his prayers. A battle with no loss of life? How could anyone attribute that to anything but the hand of the Almighty? But the biggest miracle was an answer to a prayer he had not even voiced. Something in his heart had changed. A wound had healed. He loved Kathryn. And she loved him.

The world around them disappeared. He pulled her toward him, and her arms slid up around his neck. Men’s voices faded and the lingering smell of smoke dissolved. All that was left was the woman before him and the emotion that washed over his heart like a wave at high tide.

He loved her.

He lowered his lips to hers, determined to prove it with his kiss.

Epilogue

Saturday, June 15, 1856

T
he front room of the Faulkner House was no longer empty. On this rainy Saturday afternoon people filled the chairs set up in two rows facing the fireplace. The cozy furniture had been moved into Madame’s sitting room temporarily in anticipation of the wedding guests. It seemed everyone in Seattle wanted to be a part of the bride and groom’s happy day.

When all was ready, Reverend Blaine nodded toward the piano and his wife placed her hands upon the ivory keys. Stately music filled the room and echoed up the stairs, a cue to the bride that it was time to meet her groom. He stood beside the minister, fidgeting nervously with the string tie around his neck. That is, until he caught sight of his bride, and then he went still, his eyes alive with a quiet joy.

She descended slowly at first, each step placed in time with the music. Delicate pink flowers circled the hem and sleeves of her simple wedding gown, each one lovingly embroidered to match the bouquet of sweetbriar that bloomed so plentifully throughout Seattle in June. When she saw her groom across the heads of the guests, a smile lit her face. Her pace sped, and the bride nearly ran down the center aisle.

“That’s my new grandma,” declared John William from the first row. “Ain’t she a beaut?”

An indulgent chuckle rose from the assembled. Seated beside him, Kathryn leaned down to gather him in a hug.

“Yes, she is, sweetheart. She’s a beautiful bride.” She combed her fingers through his hair with a quick gesture, ending with a finger on his lips. “We must be quiet now and listen.”

“Okay,” he answered in a loud whisper, and then climbed up into her lap and settled himself comfortably, his attention fixed on the two who stood in front of him hand in hand, beaming into each other’s faces.

Jason slid sideways into the place John William vacated and draped an arm across the back of her chair. A giddy delight swept over her at his nearness, and she missed the first few sentences of the minister’s ceremony. How could she concentrate when every bit of her was focused on the man whose very presence robbed her of breath?

Well aware of the effect he had on her, a teasing grin tugged at one corner of his lips. He leaned close and whispered, “Two more weeks and that will be us up there.”

As if she could forget. Mama and Papa would arrive on the
Fair Lady
next week, bringing with them a cargo hold full of wedding presents that Papa insisted on bestowing. She could not muster much interest in gifts. How could she, when the best gift of all was already hers? And he was sitting right beside her, distracting her with the memory of his embrace when he left her at her door last night, of his lips nuzzling her neck and whispering “I love you” in her ear.

Outside the rain began to fall, huge, fat drops that quickly became a downpour the likes of which she had not seen since the day she arrived in Seattle. They beat on the porch roof so loudly through the open windows that they nearly drowned out Reverend Blaine. Kathryn watched them fall, a silvery curtain that hid the town from view. She’d heard somewhere that rain on a wedding day
was good luck. She prayed that omen would hold true for Helen and Will. And for her and Jason.

Turning to face the front of the room, she settled herself comfortably in the curve of Jason’s arm and rested her chin on her nephew’s silky head. They had love, and that portended a happy marriage far more than a silly omen.

A Note from Lori & Virginia

W
e’re sure you’ve read this disclaimer in almost every novel you pick up: “The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.” That statement is true of
Rainy Day Dreams,
with a few exceptions. We created a completely fictitious story and then put it in an actual historical setting during a time when something interesting was going on, and tossed the names of a few real people into the mix as well. We think the combination makes for a delightful reading experience, and we hope you enjoyed the results.

Among the actual historical people featured in
Rainy Day Dreams
are Henry Yesler, David and Louisa Denny, and their daughter, Emily Inez. Henry built the first steam-powered sawmill on the Puget Sound in Seattle. David and Louisa were two of the original settlers in Seattle, and Emily Inez was born there. Quite a bit is known about the Dennys, so we had a lot of material to rely on as we researched this and the previous book in the Seattle Brides series,
A Bride for Noah.
Two sources proved invaluable, and if you’re interested in reading actual accounts of the founding of Seattle and the Battle of Seattle, we recommend them to you:
Westward to Alki: The Story of David and Louisa Denny
by Gordon R. Newell, and
Blazing the Way: True Stories, Songs and Sketches of the Puget Sound
by Emily Inez Denny.

If you read those books, you’ll discover that many of the events we fictionalized in
Rainy Day Dreams
did happen, though we have taken a bit of literary license—sometimes quite a bit. For instance, there really was a woman running with Louisa Denny on that fearful dash to the blockhouse on January 26, 1856. She wore her hair in fashionable braided loops, and a bullet really did pass through one of the loops. We hope you’ll forgive us for inching that bullet a tad to the left and having it chop that braid right off so Kathryn (our fictional heroine) could have another fainting spell that put her in need of rescuing by our dashing hero. We loved Jason and wanted to see him spring heroically into action.

The bare facts of the Battle of Seattle are represented in our account, woven throughout the fiction. The white settlers of Seattle were befriended by the Duwamish Indians under the leadership of Chief Seattle, but many other tribes didn’t take kindly to being crowded off of their ancestral lands. They were particularly insulted by a series of treaties initiated by the governor of Washington Territory, Isaac Stevens, beginning in late 1854. These treaties offered trinkets and a little cash for land, plus the requirement that the Indian tribes move onto several small reservation areas. Interracial hostilities escalated, and then the word came that the tribes most offended—which included the Nisqually, Muckleshoot, and Klickitat—had begun amassing an army of braves to force the settlers off of Native American land. Word of an impending attack began to leak to the residents of Seattle through their Indian friends, who were also the targets of hostility because of their friendship with the white settlers.

The construction of the blockhouse from David Denny’s personal stock of milled lumber did take place, as did the false alarms that sent the terrified citizens of Seattle dashing for the safety of that small fort in the middle of the night. The
U.S.S. Decatur,
a U.S. sloop of war under the command of Captain Guert Gansevoort,
was stationed in the bay even though the governmental authorities insisted that the people of Seattle were alarmists and that there was no danger of an attack by hostile Indians.

When the attack finally came, the settlers were ready. They huddled inside the blockhouse while a small group of their own, along with one hundred fourteen sailors and marines, defended them. Bullets and arrows and cannonballs flew at a fevered pitch for half a day, and then slacked off when the attackers broke for lunch. Later in the afternoon the fighting began again, but not with the same furious pace. A few volleys of gunshots were exchanged, but by nightfall the hostile Indians gave up and left. The settlers were amazed to discover that though most of the outlying buildings and homes had been ransacked and burned, miraculously there was only one reported death that day. The Battle of Seattle was over almost as soon as it had begun.