A Bride for Noah (17 page)

It wasn't an uncommonly beautiful place, like the one surrounding the Denny's cabin. There was no stream, though she could hear the sound of running water not far away. But the land was level here, and the trees were smaller, with wide grassy spaces between them. Tall cedars surrounded the glade, far enough apart to allow a good-sized building to be erected between them. She turned to the west, and a slow smile spread across her lips. The clearing rested atop a slight ridge with the land sloping gently downward, which gave her a glimpse of the bay below. When the land was cleared, which she had no doubt would happen as the town grew, she would have a stunning view.

Louisa emerged behind her, followed closely by Sarah and Lucy.

“This is it.” Evie spread her arms wide as if to encompass the clearing. “This is where I shall build my restaurant.”

Doubt showed on the sisters' faces, but Louisa turned in a circle and then nodded.

“It's a good location,” she said.

Miles emerged, irritably batting a branch out of his face. He stopped beside Evie, settled his waistcoat with a tug, and cast a skeptical glance around. “Are you sure it wouldn't be wiser to be down by the shore? There would be less work involved in readying the area before building can begin.”

With a certainty that she felt deep inside, Evie replied with no hesitation. “I'm sure.”

He studied her for a moment and then shrugged. “This place is as good as any other, as far as I'm concerned. Besides, we still have
time to scout around. We won't be able to hire the labor for at least another month.”

With a glance in his direction, she assumed a casual tone, “Are there not extra tools in the camp? Axes and saws and so on?”

A frown gathered on his bearded face. “Why do you want to know?”

She folded her arms across her chest as she gazed at her clearing. “Because I don't intend to wait a month or longer. I'm not the weakling Noah seems to think I am.”

Amusement danced in Louisa's eyes. “Are you saying you will build a restaurant by yourself?”

“Not at all. Miles will help.”

“What?” He took a step backward, looking at her with alarm, and nearly stumbled over a sapling in the tall grass. “Me, wield an ax? My dear girl!”

She ignored him, and nodded toward the sisters. “And Sarah and Lucy and Ethel can help.”

Sarah screwed her face in twisted angst. “I wouldn't know what to do with an ax.”

“Then you can use a saw,” Evie told her. “There aren't any huge trees in this area to give us trouble, only small ones. Between the five of us, we can get a good start. It's better than sitting around doing nothing.”

Louisa leaned back her head and laughed. “Well, why not? I'll help too.”

Her spirits high, Evie leaned over and pulled Louisa into a grateful hug. Noah thought she would go meekly into hiding until he was ready to deal with her. Ha! She could hardly wait to see his face when he discovered how wrong he was. She was an independent woman in charge of her own future, and she would not be tucked in a corner.

But clearing the land was only the first step of her plan. The rest would take some time to put in place.

“We-ell.” Miles drew the word out and followed it with a loud
sigh. “Every venture needs supervision. I suppose I can contribute something along those lines.”

Evie turned a mock scowl on him and then put one arm around Lucy and the other around Sarah. “Think of how impressed all those loggers will be when they see how capable you are.”

“Or how pitiful we are,” moaned Lucy.

“Either way, you'll have their attention, won't you?”

That drew hesitant smiles from them both.

She squeezed their waists. “Now, let's go get some tea from our supplies and then we'll go back to Mary's and relax for the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be busy.”

They trooped back down the trail together. Evie was well pleased with her morning's work. Finally, after two days of frustration and disappointment, she was in control again. And she fully intended to stay there.

Down at the landing site the muddy shore showed signs of drying out, but, like the trail, was still soggy in places. They skirted the edge of the open space, keeping to the firmer soil along the tree line. Evie's supplies had been unloaded from the ship and the crates stacked in a neat pile on a wooden platform in a small grassy area. The lot had been covered with a canvas tarp. Though she would prefer a sturdier shelter, especially for the heavy iron stove that had cost an astounding amount of money, at least the canvas would provide shelter from the rain and, if roped tightly, from wild animals. And the deck protected the crates from moisture on the ground. The sketch she had made of her restaurant included a large supply room, and as soon as the walls were up she would have Miles arrange to have these things moved.

The sight that greeted her as she neared halted her thoughts. The ties were in place on this side of the load, but at the back, the canvas flapped open. She broke into a run and reached the deck before the others. Lifting the loose tarp, she peered beneath it. A sob rose in her throat. The canvas covered only the large, heavy crate containing
her stove and a few smaller ones which lay on their sides, pried open and empty. The sob nearly choked her as she straightened and her eyes searched the area. An object on the ground caught her attention, and she ran to the base of a nearby tree to pick it up. It was a linen napkin, trampled with mud. Not far away, an onion lay half-sunk in the wet soil as though it had been stepped on.

Tears blurred her vision. Her cargo had been ransacked. Her cookware, table linens, cutlery, all gone. The food and supplies for which she had paid so dearly had been stolen.

Nine

W
on't you please do something?”

Tears streaked down the reddened cheeks as the woman's pleading eyes fixed on him. Though Arthur stood in front of Evangeline, trying to extract details of the disaster she insisted had befallen her, the tearful plea was directed at Noah, and he found it impossible to steel himself against a surge of desire to answer the request. What was it about a crying female that stirred a man's insides?

Work had once again come to a halt when the ladies and Uncle Miles appeared at the trailhead and rushed into the cutting site. A handy log had been fetched and the distraught women now perched on it in a row, surrounded by men who twisted their hats and watched the tears, their expressions reflecting the same helpless urge to act as Noah felt. Three wore masks of misery, but only Evangeline wept openly. Uncle Miles hovered in the background, wringing his hands.

“We'll get to the bottom of this, Miss Lawrence.” Arthur's promise held the ring of a vow. “I am sure the culprit is not among this company.”

“It's them Indians.” Big Dog stepped forward, his huge hands fisted. “Want me to go talk to them, boss?”

A chorus of male voices chimed in.

“Me too.”

“Count me in.”

Noah exchanged a glance with David. He was standing behind Louisa, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder. It was highly likely that a few curious Duwamish tribesmen had helped themselves to the supplies. They meant no mischief, but tended to think anything that wasn't in a person's direct possession was free for the taking. Shortly after the Denny party arrived, a whole load of clothing had disappeared from Mary Denny's clothesline. A few days later they'd spotted a brave wearing one of Arthur's purloined shirts. No doubt a huge pile of goods, unguarded and seemingly abandoned, had proven fascinating for them.

But judging by the fiercely protective glares on the men's faces, turning them loose on a mission of retribution would end in disaster.

Noah stepped forward. “No, I'll go. Uncle Miles and I were going to the Duwamish village tomorrow anyway. I'm sure this is an innocent mistake, and we can clear it up with Chief Seattle.”

“Tomorrow?” Evangeline dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief one of the men had given her. “I'll not have a peaceful moment until I know if my future is ruined.” A sob broke her voice, and she drew in a shaky breath.

“Here, here, miss.” Red made as if to pat her shoulder and then jerked his hand away with an awkward motion. “Don't you take on so. We'll get this settled today, one way or another.” He turned a defiant stare on Noah, as though daring him to disagree.

Arthur caught Noah's eye and then dipped his head. “Go today.” His expression grew stern. “But first, see that the ladies get home safely.” Though he didn't continue, Noah read the rest of his message in the man's dark eyes.
And see that they stay there.

As if he hadn't been trying to do that all along.

Steeling his jaw, Noah extended a hand toward Evangeline. “Come on. Let's go see if Cookee has any coffee back at the camp. It'll help settle you before we leave.”

She hesitated, staring at his hand as if she didn't trust him. But then she took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. Men leaped forward to assist the other ladies.

Squinty stepped in front of them. “You sure you don't want some of us to go along? You might need help.”

Noah was quick to shake his head. “I've got this under control. You and the others stay here and keep working. We've fallen far enough behind this morning as it is.”

Evangeline gave him a sharp look, though he had taken care to filter any blame out of his words.

“He's right.” Arthur's commanding voice was directed to the entire company. “We can't afford to waste another minute of this day. Let's get back to work.”

With obvious reluctance, the men bade the ladies farewell. Noah kept Evangeline's hand tucked firmly in the crook of his arm as he walked her to the trailhead. Knowing her, she might decide to make another plea, and the men would swarm to answer her request.

As soon as they were out of earshot from the others, she leaned toward him and whispered in a voice that only he could hear. “I'm going with you, you know.”

Noah took a deep breath and firmed his jaw. “No. Absolutely not.”

She didn't answer, but from the set of her mouth, he knew he had yet another battle on his hands.

They stood outside Mary's cabin, having arrived moments before. Evie had conquered her tears, though uncomfortable warmth still hovered barely below the surface, ready to leap to her face if she allowed her thoughts to dwell on the hour past. She wanted to appear strong and independent, and what had she done? Wailed and sobbed like the weak female Noah obviously thought she was.

Evie folded her arms across her chest and faced him. “If you leave without me, I shall follow you.”

He planted his feet in front of her, matching her glare for glare. “You can't keep up. You'll get turned around in a matter of minutes, and probably end up in the belly of a bear or something.”

A gasp from inside the cabin told her Ethel stood watching with the others.

She lifted her chin. “If I do, then my death will be on your hands.”

“That is the most—” His mouth snapped shut and he raked his fingers roughly through his hair. When he continued, it was with an obvious effort to maintain an even tone. “Would you please tell me what you hope to accomplish by visiting the Duwamish village?” She drew breath to answer, but he held up a finger to stop her. “And don't say you want to oversee the recovery of your supplies, because Uncle Miles and I are perfectly capable of doing that without you.”

Evie matched his tone. “Perhaps it has not occurred to you that I prefer to manage my own affairs instead of relying on others, especially someone who has no sense of urgency for matters that concern me.”

For that he had no answer, but his gaze fell upon something behind her. He strode past her and grabbed up one of the intricately decorated poles that still leaned against the cabin. Holding it aloft, he said, “You do realize that the braves who made these will be in the village.” His eyelids narrowed. “Or perhaps that's your purpose. You want to get a look at your potential suitors.”

From the tightness of his lips, Evie knew he was trying to provoke her. Instead of giving in to a flare of temper, the idea actually made her smile. If he had stooped to childish taunts, that meant he'd run out of arguments. She was close to winning this confrontation.