The Healer's Touch (39 page)

“Mr. Carter, what is the purpose of that vessel?”

As she asked the question, the man urged the mule forward and
the wagon lurched. She grasped the edge of the bench to keep her balance.

“Been here for months.” The answer was tossed over his shoulder. “Matter of fact, they hauled her out and cleaned her up not long ago. In a terrible state, so folks say.”

Kathryn glanced over her shoulder. The
Fair Lady
and the
Decatur
were the only ships in sight. “Seems an odd place to go for repairs. Doesn't the Navy have shipyards or similar places?”

“Oh, she didn't come here to be fixed up. She came a few months ago on account of the Injuns, and stuck around.”

Beside her, Miss Everett gave a little gasp and her wide eyes snapped to Kathryn's face. “Is there trouble with the Indians?”

The mule stepped sideways when the wagon wheels slid and then tossed its head in an attempt to dislodge his handler's hold. Kathryn tightened her grip on the bench. Carter became preoccupied in keeping the animal moving forward.

Mr. Gates, who had been walking beside the wagon, answered in his stead. “Captain Baker and I discussed the same thing. Apparently there was a scare some months ago, along with a few random attacks on lone travelers. But he assured me those were isolated events, and nothing to worry about.”

Kathryn turned her head to address his profile. “Then why has the Navy not recalled its ship?”

“The former captain was relieved of command not long ago, and the new captain found the ship in a state of disrepair.” He shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. “They decided to repair her here.”

Miss Everett leaned forward to see around Kathryn. “So there's no conflict with the Indians?”

“Not according to Captain Baker. A few panicky settlers raised a fuss, but the authorities have investigated and found no cause for concern.”

A smile flickered onto his face, and his eyes warmed. For an
instant he looked quite handsome, and Kathryn found herself smiling in response. Unfortunately, his features didn't appear accustomed to the arrangement and returned to their serious state after mere moments.

“Hmph.” At the mule's head, Carter's stiff posture shouted disagreement as he tugged on his animal's rope.

“You don't agree, Mr. Carter?” Kathryn leaped on the question, eager to turn away from Mr. Gates.

“There's good Injuns and bad ones, that's all I'm sayin'.”

“That's true of all men.” She went on in a teasing tone. “Some have manners, and some don't.”

Instead of smiling at her good-natured jab, he jerked his head around and fixed her with a tight-lipped stare. “Jest so.”

The response stirred feelings of disquiet. She exchanged a troubled glance with Miss Everett, and then fell silent.

Buildings lined the wide avenue on either side and a covered walkway ran along in front of them. They met another wagon heading in the direction of the pier, this one pulled by a sturdy horse. The driver nodded at Carter as they passed and lifted an eager gaze toward Kathryn and Miss Everett, who both kept their gazes modestly averted. In fact, it was hard to find any place to look without encountering a staring man. They came out of the buildings to line the walkway and watch their progress. Some shouted greetings like, “Howdy, ladies,” and “Welcome to Seattle,” while others snatched caps off their heads and bobbed an eager greeting. The weight of dozens of eyes pressed against her on both sides. They seemed starved for the sight of a woman. Some ladies of her acquaintance would revel in such attention, but these men's expressions left her distinctly uncomfortable. Would it be safe to traverse the streets of Seattle without hiring a guard?

“It appears you have created a stir.”

She glanced down at Mr. Gates. An amused grin curved his lips as he trudged along beside the wagon. A moment ago she had found
his smile comforting, but this one rubbed against nerves made touchy by being the unaccustomed object of so much male scrutiny.

“And it seems you are enjoying our discomfiture.”

His eyebrows arched, and the grin twisted enough to become sardonic. “Surely you aren't surprised by the attention.”

Kathryn's spine stiffened at his tone. “What are you implying, sir?”

“Only that a woman traveling to a town where men make up an overwhelming majority of the population must realize she is certain to become an immediate focus.” He cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, as though evaluating her. “In fact, most men would assume such a woman chose the town for that reason.”

Why, the nerve! He practically accused her of being a coquette. She bristled, a sharp denial rising to her tongue. In the next instant the words died unspoken. That was exactly the reason Papa had sent her to Seattle. Against her wishes.

But she certainly wasn't inclined to reveal her personal trials to a stranger. With a flounce she turned away from him and faced forward, her posture rigidly correct.

What an infuriating man.

Jason regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. As usual, he'd spoken without fully considering what he said. Women always took a man's words personally. He'd learned that from Beth early on. He didn't intend to insult Miss Bergert, merely to make an observation that was perfectly obvious to everyone. Seattle was a man's town, a place where brute strength and ingenuity won the day. Thousands of men agreed with him, proven by the fact that they came in droves to work the forest and the lumber mill that was quickly making a name for the fledgling town. Why else would a single woman journey here, if not to find a husband? That was a
perfectly acceptable reason, as far as he was concerned. As long as she left him alone, Miss Bergert could have her pick.

Beside the girl on the bench, the older woman sat with her head lowered, staring at the gloved hands folded in her lap. With a start he realized she'd taken his comment as directed at her as well. During the voyage from San Francisco Captain Baker had confided that she was looking to start a new life away from the painful memories of the city. Jason had identified with her as a fellow escapee, and took care to treat her kindly the few times she emerged from her bunk. Cursing himself for a thoughtless idiot, he opened his mouth to apologize, but then snapped it closed. The look on Miss Bergert's averted face still held a frosty fury. No doubt whatever he said to the older lady would be misinterpreted as another insult to her.

Instead, he lengthened his stride and overtook Carter at the front of the wagon, where he was coaxing his beast forward. He'd feel more comfortable talking to the mule than to the women.

The line of buildings ended abruptly. On the right lay a wide clearing, the ground still littered with knee-high stumps and a pile of felled trees, their sawed-off branches scattered untidily about. A new building site, perhaps? Beyond that the street sloped upward and the surrounding forest pressed in on both sides. The cart tilted as the mule trudged up the hill, and one of the bags in the wagon bed slid backward and slapped into the rear gate. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder. Ah, good. It was one of the smaller bags. The crate holding his painting was still wedged securely between the side rail and the heaviest of the trunks.

The wagon lurched sideways and Miss Bergert grabbed at the bench to brace herself. He averted his gaze from her startled expression. When her dark green eyes were rounded like that, they held a loveliness he had not noticed at first. Though he certainly had not examined her closely, he'd formed a vague opinion of plain, rather severe looks. But perhaps that was only because of the square-brimmed bonnet and unflattering cloak that hung from her
shoulders more like a bag than a fitted garment. And the fact that he had rarely seen a real smile on the lips that were perpetually tightened in an expression of disdain. This young woman was a picture of arrogance, a quality for which he'd never had any patience in men or women.

Beth was the opposite of arrogant. Her sweet temperament had won her many an admirer back home in Michigan.

Thoughts of Beth sent a wave of homesickness washing through his soul. How he missed her! Sometimes his arms felt so empty they ached.

I can't dwell on thoughts of Beth, or I'll go crazy.

With an effort that threatened to exhaust him, he forced himself to focus on the here and now. They were traveling uphill on a wide road that had been carved out of the forest some years past. Mud sucked at his boots with every step and a raindrop splashed onto his head. It was quickly followed by another, and then another. He glanced up. Was the darkening sky due to the setting of the invisible sun or an approaching rainstorm? Impossible to tell. His pocket watch was buried beneath the layers of his heavy overcoat.

They rounded a curve in the road, and once again the forest gave way to a clearing on the right. More buildings stood here, forming another area of town that extended up the hill. Some neat, whitewashed structures were clearly public establishments. Beyond and behind them lay a row of houses both large and small. Here, then, was the proper town, tucked halfway up the mountain, away from the wharf and the mill. Not a bad plan, to keep the two separate. Though judging by the clearing work occurring down by the bay, it wouldn't be long before that area expanded up the hill and joined this charming little collection of stores and homes.

As Carter led the mule down the street, a door opened in the building to the right and a figure appeared. A tall woman with a generous figure cloaked inside a merchant's apron stepped onto the plank walkway beneath a sign that read Coffinger's Dry Goods
.

“Yoo-hoo, Mr. Carter!” She waggled her fingers in his direction. “Is the ship in, then?”

Carter halted his mule and ducked his head. “Yes'm, Miz Coffinger.”

She turned her head and shouted over her shoulder in a commanding tone that could surely be heard down on the deck of the
Fair Lady.
“Boy, the ship's finally here. Get down to the pier and see to those supplies.” She turned back to them and fixed a wide smile on the ladies seated on the wagon bench. “Welcome to Seattle, my dears. When you get settled, I'll pay you a call and we'll become acquainted.”

When her gaze switched to Jason, an appreciative smile widened her lips, the only thing that could be described as thin on this woman's entire body. “You too, dearie.”

Without waiting for an answer, she looked at Carter and barked, “Well, what are you waiting for? Can't you see it's about to pour?” And with that dire prediction, she retreated into the store.

Carter stood staring after her, scratching at his chin beneath his scraggly beard. “If you want my advice, watch yourself around that one. That woman'll have you begging to pay half a month's wages for a pail of dirt if you let your guard down.” He shook his head and tugged the mule forward, but his grin held a touch of admiration.

With a final glance toward the dry goods store, Jason fell in step beside him. “I'll keep that in mind.”

As they rolled past the store, Kathryn cast a wary eye skyward. One needn't be a weather predictor to know the store owner had spoken truthfully. There had been no need to carry her parasol ashore since the sun was nowhere in evidence, but she may have been wise to take it out of her trunk. Though it wouldn't provide
much in the way of shelter, it would be better than nothing if the rain started in earnest before they reached their destination.