The Lumberjack's Bride (3 page)

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Authors: Jean Kincaid

BOOK: The Lumberjack's Bride
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Chapter 2

T
he next morning, Caleb tramped through the logging camp. Young and old men alike practiced for the upcoming contest. He stopped beside the man who had started the whole mess.

Sloan glanced over at him and gave a brief nod. “Did you come to compete too, Hansen?” His gaze moved to Julianne. “If I'd known how beautiful she was, I might not have married Susan.”

The foreman joined the two men. “You could put a stop to this now, Sloan. I could change the prize to a day off with pay and the men wouldn't argue too much.”

“She owes me.” Sloan spat on the ground and stomped away.

Caleb watched him leave. What caused a man to turn so bitter? He pulled his attention from the young man and nodded hello to the foreman. “You going to join the competition, boss?”

“Nah, I have to keep everyone in line.”

Caleb had found William Taylor to be a man of honor and a fair and generous boss. And he ruled his loggers with a sternness that not many men dared to defy.

“How about you?” Taylor asked. “You going to compete?”

“I'm not sure.” Caleb had asked himself the same question last night. The baby needed someone to take care of him. Caleb knew he could not stay up all night with a crying baby and work the next day. The way the little one stiffened and drew his tiny legs up against his chest worried Caleb. A woman seemed to instinctively know about these things but he was at a loss.

His cabin might not be the fanciest but it was one of the nicest around. Roomy with a loft and a modern wood cookstove. Julianne would have a home if she so chose.

Caleb refused to explore the unfamiliar emotions he felt every time he saw the black-haired beauty, but long after darkness had settled over the evening before, he'd remembered her beautiful, clear blue eyes and the determined expression on her face as she'd stood her ground with Sloan.

Now both men looked straight ahead. The foreman focused on the trees that would be felled that day. Caleb's attention focused solely on Julianne.

He watched Maggie come up and place the baby in Julianne's arms. A frown marred her pretty features as she looked down at the infant. He wondered at the cause. Didn't she like babies? He thought all women had a built in love for a motherless child, yet that definitely was not motherly love on her face.

Questions swirled through his mind. Had she taken the money as she was accused of doing? Could she be trusted to watch the baby? Which brought up another question: Exactly what did he know about her?

Absolutely nothing.

“If you compete, there isn't another man around here that could beat you. That baby needs a mother, and the woman needs a place to stay. It would be a good trade­off for both of you.” The foreman walked away before Caleb could protest or comment.

He continued to stroll through the camp. Pieces of conversations met his ears. Each man boasted about what would become of the lovely Miss Julianne once he won the contest.

“I'll have her baking a cake before sundown, if I win,” Ben bragged as he flung his ax at a tree stump.

His buddy laughed. “Yeah, me too, but after that, she could get started on my washing. I've worn these clothes for over a week.”

Caleb moved on, fighting the urge to smash both men in the mouth for their lack of consideration. As he passed Marcus Harvey and another logger, he heard Marcus crow.

“She's a pretty little thing. I'm looking forward to making her pay for that fare she stole.” Marcus was a big burly man who enjoyed acting like a tough guy. Rumor had it he'd killed a man, but it was only hearsay and had never been proven.

Caleb winced at the thought of Julianne or any woman at the mercy of Marcus Harvey. Finally, he wound up where Julianne stood. “How's the baby?”

He watched her blue eyes widen with surprise, though she tried hard to hide it. He'd evidently startled her again. He was intrigued by the mystery that surrounded the woman in front of him.

“He's fine. I was wondering if you've thought of a name for him, yet.” She smoothed the hair off the baby's face and rocked from side to side.

Caleb wondered if she rocked to sooth her own nerves or the child's. “Not yet, I'm thinking along the lines of Jonathan. What do you think?”

“Jonathan.” The name came out a whisper as if she were testing its flavor against her tongue. “It means Jehovah's gift.” She squinted up at him. “You should consider him a gift from the Lord. I like it. It sounds strong. A man needs a strong name.”

The question was out before he could stop it. “How did you get into this predicament, Julianne?” He watched her eyes take on a faraway look.

Bitterness laced her next words. “I trusted the wrong man.”

* * *

Screams of frustration longed to escape Julianne's throat as she watched her future being decided for her. She felt frozen in limbo where all decisions and actions evaded her.

Strange and disquieting thoughts had plagued her all through the night, not to mention the straw tick she'd slept on, on Maggie's floor. She'd awakened this morning sick with the struggle inside.

Now, as she observed the two leaders of the competition, a small glimmer of hope helped her raise her chin and muster all the dignity she could.

Caleb and one other man were in the lead. In the ax throwing, both men had hit the bull's-eye on the target. Caleb had climbed and cut the top off of a tree faster than anyone else. The other man, named Marcus, had split more wood than Caleb. He'd only won by one log but he'd still won. And now it looked as if Caleb was using all the strength he had to fell a tree before Marcus.

She admired the way the muscles in his back and shoulders bulged, as he dragged the saw back and forth against the tree. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face and into his eyes. Still, he continued to bunch his muscles and work faster.

The thought of Caleb Hansen winning the race wasn't too distasteful. The other men respected him, and it appeared most of them wanted him to win. The few brief times she'd seen him, he'd said little, the semblance of a quiet man. But her aunt had said it was the quiet ones you had to beware of. Of course, her aunt had been talking about Julianne, not a man, so should that be a characteristic by which she judged Caleb?

She chose to believe he was the kind of man who would pay off her debt and then allow her to pay him back as she got the money.

Her gaze moved to Marcus. Now, here was trouble in capital letters. A burly man with arms as big around as some of the trees that surrounded the camp, he had a mean attitude and cursing came as easily as breathing. She shuddered to think what kind of man he was. She doubted he would be willing to wait for her to repay him. But she had news for him. He'd have to.

“If you're a praying woman, you better pray that one doesn't win.” Maggie spoke in a low, warning voice, as if afraid that Marcus would hear. She held the baby against her shoulder and patted his back. She used her chin to point at Marcus.

Julianne tore her gaze away from the men. “Why?” She struggled to make her voice nonchalant. “It really doesn't matter to me who wins. I'll make an arrangement with the winner, he'll pay Sloan and I'll pay him back with the money I make from taking in laundry.”

Maggie shook her head. “Honey, not to embarrass you, but these men have been without a woman for a long time. Do you really think they will just give Sloan the money, and then wait for you to pay it back?” She rocked the sleeping baby.

“You don't mean…?” Julianne's hand went to her mouth.

The older woman leaned closer and whispered. “Marcus is a mean one. He will demand full payment of his money from you, and he's not afraid to take it out of your hide. If you know what I mean.” Maggie pulled away to cheer on Caleb. “Keep at it Caleb, he's almost whupped!” She bellowed with the rest of the crowd. The baby uttered a sharp cry of protest as if he, too, were against Marcus winning.

Julianne looked at the man they had been discussing. He stood at least a head and a half taller than she. He caught her eye for a moment and grinned, but his eyes remained flat, hard and passionless. It frightened her to think what he had in store for her.

After quieting the baby, Maggie leaned close again. “Now Caleb, there is a fine young man. He's got his reason for wanting to win too, though.” She paused. “He needs a mama for this little boy of his. I imagine he figures you will fit the bill.”

“No.” Julianne whispered. That was one of the reasons she'd run from New York—to get away from screaming children and adults who tried to run her life. She couldn't believe this was happening.

“Oh, being married to Caleb wouldn't be so bad. He's got a real nice cabin built off in the woods, and he's a Bible-reading man.”

Bible reading or not, Julianne wanted no part of taking care of someone else's child. And she knew that reading the Bible didn't necessarily make anyone a better man. Her uncle read the good book every night. What good had it done? Not one whit. He still beat her and turned her into the house slave.

But it hadn't always been like that. She had earlier memories of an uncle who had been kind and patient. He'd bought her a pony and taught her to ride.

“Timber!” The shout came from Caleb.

Marcus added his voice to it. “Timber!”

Everyone held their breaths as the mighty pine trees fell in unison.

“I won!” Marcus yelled, jerking his hat off his head and rushing to Julianne.

Before she had a chance to protest, he threw her over his shoulder and started stomping off toward the woods. The pins in her hair fell out with each pounding step he took. The smell of sweat and body odor assaulted her senses and made her stomach queasy.

Marcus came to a bone-jarring halt. “Get out of my way, Hansen. I won fair and square.”

Julianne tried to pull herself upright but the big man slapped her on her bottom. The sound echoed in the silent camp. Mortified, Julianne's embarrassment turned to hot, burning anger. She turned her head to the side and sank her teeth into the soft skin above Marcus's belt.

Marcus dumped Julianne at his feet then drew his arm back to hit her.

* * *

“I wouldn't hit her if I were you, Harvey.” Caleb's warning rang out before the slap connected.

“Who's gonna stop me? You?” He grabbed Julianne by the hair and jerked her head back.

Her cry of pain tore at Caleb's insides. He took a step forward. His gaze locked with hers, and he witnessed the fear, pain and humiliation on her soft features. Marcus pulled a knife from his boot and pressed it into her throat in one liquid motion. “Hold it right there, Hansen.”

Caleb stopped. A small stream of blood traveled from the tip of the knife, down her throat and into the material at her neck. He didn't move, he didn't breathe, he simply held her gaze and silently begged her to trust him.

He held his hands up. “Now what?”

Marcus looked around the logging camp. Men watched his every move. It was apparent he hadn't planned on revealing the knife, but pride made him bluster through the threat. Twisting his hand in her hair and pushing the knife a little harder against her throat, he jerked Julianne to her feet. He saw the foreman standing off to one side with his hands behind his back. “Me and the little gal are gonna go settle up.”

Caleb stepped closer. “I don't think so, Harvey. You're either going to let her go or kill her now.” He made eye contact with the foreman.

Julianne gave a tiny squeak as the knife cut deeper.

The foreman stepped forward. “Marcus, I'm not so sure you won. The trees fell about the same time and me and the boys here will be the judge of who won.”

Marcus focused on the foreman and shook his head. “No, sir. I won.” He lightened the pressure on Julianne's neck.

It was all the distraction Caleb needed. He rushed at Marcus, grabbed the hand that held the knife and forced it away from Julianne.

The camp went wild. Marcus kicked Julianne away from him and she fell, her head hitting a tree, her limp body unmoving.

In a matter of seconds, Caleb had Marcus on the ground, his feet and hands bound with rope.

Caleb rushed to Julianne. Blood caked her throat and the front of her dress. He scooped up her unconscious form. “Maggie!”

“I'm right here. You don't have to shout.” She scolded him. “Take her into the cookshack.”

The baby slept soundly in Maggie's arms, unaware that there had been a fight and someone had just faced the jowls of death and survived.

Caleb laid Julianne down on the kitchen floor. “Do you think she's going to be all right, Maggie?” Her eyelashes looked like black soot against her colorless face.

Maggie started to hand him the sleeping baby. “Here take care of your son, while I tend to her.”

“My son?”

Maggie heaved a breath. “Yes, Caleb. Take the baby.” She knelt beside Julianne's still form as he tucked the baby into the crook of his arm.

“Maggie, he's not my…”

“Stop yer yammering, Caleb, and let me see to this child.”

The impatience in Maggie's voice halted his shocked denial that Jonathan was his son. How on earth could she think this was his son? He saw Maggie at least once a week and he'd never carried a baby into her place until three days ago when he'd stopped by and asked her what to feed him. The place had been full and Maggie had rushed around serving everyone but still had taken time to answer his questions. Oh well, it was just one more thing he'd have to settle later.

He turned to go find Marcus Harvey. With each step his anger grew. How could any man hurt a woman like that? He'd seen the pleasure in Marcus's eyes every time he pressed the knife blade deeper into her soft creamy throat.

He came to the spot where he'd left the logger. Several men stood around smoking and talking in low voices. “Where is he?” Caleb asked.

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