A Bride for Noah (23 page)

But Evie shook her head. “I won't agree to that. He doesn't know the language like you do. We need someone who can be specific about what we want. I can't afford to lose another thing.”

The sound of boots approaching alerted Noah to Arthur's presence. A similar pounding began behind his eyes.

At least when Arthur greeted the ladies he wore a civil smile, which disappeared when he turned to Noah. “What's going on here?”

Briefly, Noah explained the situation, though he could not manage to look the man in the eye. He'd intended to tell Arthur about his arrangement with Evie, but there had been no time.

Arthur's immediate answer surprised him. “Go. Do it now.”

Noah jerked his head toward the man. “What? But what about—”

With a chopping motion, Arthur cut him off. “We can't afford any more interruptions. The quicker you get this resolved, the quicker you can get back to work.” He turned a pointed look on Evie. “May I assume once this is settled, we won't have the pleasure of your company here at the cutting site anymore?”

She had the grace to look embarrassed, and lowered her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” With a hard stare at his brother, he stomped off, shouting orders at the men to keep working.

Noah heaved a sigh. Just when he thought things were looking up. He ignored the triumphant grin Evie awarded Louisa, but the familiar irritation erupted, like an itch that he couldn't scratch. Even when that woman was getting what she wanted she wasn't content, but insisted on pushing him. Maybe this partnership wasn't such a good idea after all.

Twelve

E
vie paced the length of the log boundary that had been laid across the front of the building site. The six Duwamish tribesmen who had worked industriously for the past three days stood in a row to one side, watching. They had removed every stump the ladies left, along with every blade of grass. The soil beneath what would soon become her restaurant's floor was flat and clear of foliage.

In the corner of the clearing, Ethel, Louisa, and Lucy knelt in the grass beside two Indian women, who were telling them with many gestures and demonstrations how to weave the wooden mats that would cover the dirt floor once the walls were in place. Sarah sat nearby, busy with a needle and thread. Finally, Evie had found work that the girl not only enjoyed, but at which she excelled. They might not be able to afford glass, but the restaurant would have nice curtains fluttering in the windows—when it didn't rain.

She reached the end of the log. Nine and a half paces only. Facing her workmen, she pointed to the log. “It's too short.”

They returned her stare with blank ones. A quick glance in Miles's direction showed her he had fallen asleep in the shade. Apparently his “supervising” duties were proving too taxing for him. She considered stepping over to wake him with a kick to the boots so he
could attempt to make them understand, but decided not to. Some tasks were easier to handle without him.

She pointed again to the log. “Too short.” Holding her hands far apart, she nodded as though satisfied. Then she moved one hand inward to shorten the space between them, frowned, and shook her head.

The Duwamish were masters at concealing their thoughts behind blank expressions. She was never sure what they thought, except when they broke their normal reserve and laughed, usually when watching her attempt a task at which she was inept.

“It needs to be longer.” With an exaggerated step, she planted her foot a half-pace beyond the edge of the log and pointed at the ground.

They exchanged glances between them, and then two came to her side. They stooped and grabbed the end of the log and pulled it to the place she pointed.

“Oh.” Evie walked to the gap in the center, where the log had been cut in half. The opening, which would become the front door, was wider than most doors to which she was accustomed, but not extraordinarily so. In fact, she liked having a bigger door. It would give her restaurant a more welcoming feel.

She lifted a smile to the pair, and nodded happily. “That works.”

At a sound from behind, she turned. One of the first tasks she had assigned was the clearing of a path from the main trail. Though she regretted the loss of one of the bushy fir trees that had stood guard over this clearing, an open path would be necessary for her customers to find her restaurant. In the meantime it gave her a clear view of any visitors who approached from that side. There hadn't been many, mostly curious Indians who came to watch their fellow tribesmen at work. Occasionally Noah had appeared, ostensibly to check on their progress, though she suspected his visits were preemptive in nature, designed to keep her and the others away from the logging camp.

Since he had not yet checked in today, she half-expected to see
him enter the clearing and was therefore surprised when she recognized the visitor.

“Chief Seattle.”

Miles proved that he had only been pretending to sleep by leaping up from the ground and rushing toward the newcomer. “Welcome, my friend. Come to check on the work? Here, let me show you what we've done.”

Evie caught Louisa's eye and rolled hers toward the sky, which made her friend giggle. The chief joined Miles and together they strolled across the grass. He awarded her a nod of acknowledgment and then completed a slow circuit of the cleared area, with Miles chattering the entire time.

“Here we've left plenty of room for storage, and back there we'll put a wood shed so we can always be certain of dry fuel for the stove.” He raised his hands and sketched a pitched roof in the air. “And above, we'll have a second floor where the ladies will live.”

They completed their circuit and arrived back at Evie's side.

“Evangeline, show him your drawing,” Miles instructed.

Evie pulled a folded paper from her apron pocket and handed it to the chief. He inspected the rough illustration she had drawn with interest.

“See there?” Miles pointed at the sketch. “That's the upper floor I was telling you about.”

Seattle nodded sagely at Miles, but when he handed the drawing back to Evie there was an indulgent twinkle in his eyes that let her know the man was well aware of the work, and who had accomplished it.

He exchanged words with his tribesmen and then walked over to watch the ladies work for a few minutes. When he returned to the building site, Evie fancied she glimpsed approval in the look he turned on her. With another nod, this one deeper, he clasped his hands behind his back and strode toward the path, apparently satisfied with his quick visit.

Miles scurried after him. “I'll accompany you a short ways, if
you don't mind. I'd like to have a word about my salmon.” His voice trailed behind him long after they'd disappeared down the path.

Louisa approached to stand beside Evie. “I wonder what that was all about.”

“I don't know.” She looked up at her friend. “But I think we've just been given his stamp of approval.”

The walls were starting to rise. Every evening when Evie left the clearing she stood for a moment gazing at her restaurant, a fiercely possessive feeling deep in her stomach. The clothesline was gone, replaced by a frame made of logs and walls of the thick cedar slats the Duwamish cut and attached. At this rate they would be ready for the roof within a matter of days.

Truth be told, she wasn't entirely satisfied with the walls. Though they were certainly sturdier than the portable huts she'd seen in the Indian camp, she couldn't help comparing them to those of the Denny cabin where she spent every night. When she voiced a tentative comment to Miles about the fact that she could see cracks of light through them in places, he brushed aside her concerns.

“That's because the mud hasn't been applied yet.” He'd given her a paternalistic smile and a pat on the arm. “Don't worry, my dear. Once it's finished, you'll love it.”

Evie hoped so. And besides, what option did she have?

Six days after the work had begun in earnest, Evie and Ethel arrived at the clearing mid-morning, as had become their custom. Since the floor mats were finished and laying in readiness, the other ladies had stayed behind to help Mary with the washing and other household chores.

When they arrived at the end of the path, they stopped short in surprise. The clearing was full of men. At second glance, Evie realized there were only four in addition to the regular Duwamish
braves, and that the newcomers' faces were known to her. Four lumberjacks from the Denny crew stood at one corner of the building, one kneeling to inspect the support log while the others stood over him.

“What's this?” Evie asked, her voice sharp. Had Noah sent them? If not, he would be furious that she had once again disrupted the men's work. Only this time it was not her fault.

They turned and, with suspicious glares directed at the watching Indians, strode across the glade toward her.

Big Dog, who towered a full head above the others, pointed behind him. “What is that supposed to be?”

Evie tilted her head to see around his massive frame, but saw nothing out of place. “That is my restaurant. Or will be soon.”

“Ain't no restaurant.” Squinty proved his nickname by fixing a cross-eyed stare on her. “Ain't nothing but a bunch of sticks piled on top of each other.”

“That is not a proper building, ma'am.” Red glanced over his shoulder at the watching braves, and then leaned toward her to whisper. “That's an Indian wigwam. You can't open a restaurant in a wigwam.”

Ethel drew herself upright. “And what choice do we have, I ask you? We had all we could do in clearing the land ourselves.”

Red's mouth fell open. “You females cleared the land?”

“Certainly we did.” She jerked her head in a nod. “We're not as helpless as all that. But neither are we stupid enough to attempt to finish a job on our own we weren't trained to do.”

Evie set a confident smile in place. “When it's fully done it will be perfectly fine. You'll see.”

Big Dog snatched a wool cap off his head. “Ma'am, if you needed something built, we'd've done it for you. All you had to do was say so.”

What a predicament. The urge to tell the men she'd desperately wanted to do exactly that was almost overpowering. But if she did,
they would certainly blame Noah and Arthur. She had agreed not to disrupt their work any further, and a conflict of this nature would definitely do so. Instead she must try and smooth things over, and rush them back to their logging camp.

“I appreciate that, truly I do, but you've plenty of work to do already.” She swallowed and schooled any hint of doubt from her tone. “And besides, I'm quite happy with the work our Duwamish friends have done for us.” There. She'd bent the truth in order to keep her promise to Noah. And she intended to make sure he knew it too. “Now, you gentlemen run along. We appreciate you stopping by. And we do hope to see you often after the restaurant opens.”

Doubt showed clearly on their faces and they would have lingered, but Ethel grabbed Red by the arm and gave him a firm shove toward the path. “You heard her. Go on now. Shoo!”

The others followed him, though not without many backward glances.

When they had gone, Ethel stood staring at the place where they'd disappeared, hands planted on her hips. “We haven't heard the last of this.”

“I have a feeling you're right,” Evie said.

No matter what, she would not let Noah blame her. Not this time.