A Bride for Noah (26 page)

Evie smoothed the blanket over her cot and gave it a final pat. Standing back, she examined her new bedroom. The cot looked pathetically small, and the room ridiculously huge and empty. The only other furnishing was her trunk, which Big Dog had hauled up the ladder for her. She'd positioned it beside her cot to use as a nightstand until she could commission one to be made, along with a proper bed.

A memory rose in her mind. Not too long ago she had stood looking at her room in Mrs. Browning's boardinghouse. That morning she'd been saying goodbye, and not only to an empty room. She'd bid farewell to Chattanooga, the town of her birth and childhood. To James and the life they'd planned. But this evening she was greeting a new life, one she could never have imagined. One with a lot of empty places still yet to be filled. If she were to make a list entitled
Things I Will Accomplish in My Life,
there would be many blank lines. Evie did not like blank lines on her lists.

Ethel appeared in the doorway. “Now, that looks just fine for the time being.”

Thrusting away her disturbing thoughts, Evie dusted her hands on her apron. “It will do for now. Are you girls settled in?”

“Not much settling to do, but what there is, is done.”

Chuckling, she led Evie through the doorway into the outer room where three cots had been set up. This room would one day be her main living area, but without furnishings there was no use for it. Ethel had insisted that the three sleep there and leave the bedroom for Evie, since it would be hers permanently.

“Where are the others?” Evie asked.

She waved a hand vaguely toward the window. “Some men fetched down cots for Mary and Louisa and the kids to use tonight, and you know Sarah and Lucy.” Her thick eyebrows waggled. “If there are men around, that's where you'll find them.”

“Tonight they can flirt to their hearts' content. This is a celebration, after all. The work starts tomorrow.”

“You think they won't flirt then too?” Ethel blew a rude noise through her lips.

Laughing, Evie descended the ladder and went outside. The area around the restaurant was already alive with activity. Men had clustered around Lucy and Sarah, who were holding court like princesses and looked completely happy to do so. Margaret and Louisa Catherine ran around the area, watched closely by Mary. Evie noted with surprise that Arthur stood near his wife, holding baby Rolland. He'd taken time to attend the celebration. On the far end of the glade Louisa and David strolled arm in arm, their heads together. The sight of the happy couple brought a smile to her face.

“Good evening, Miss Lawrence,” said a familiar voice close to her ear.

She whirled to find Noah standing behind her. Flustered, she took a backward step. “You startled me.”

“I'm sorry.” He grinned, belying his words. “The men have something for you.”

She realized that every lumberjack in the area had begun to converge on her. They gathered before her, grins on every face.

“For me?” She put a hand self-consciously to her collarbone. “Why?”

George answered. “On account of we want to celebrate your new digs here.”

“But you did all the work.” She held her hands out to encompass the entire group. “I should be giving you gifts, not the other way around.”

Squinty stepped forward, his hat in his hands and his balding head looking like it had been recently scrubbed. “Ma'am, you and the other ladies gave us a gift jest by comin' here.”

“This is sort of a welcomin' present,” added George, and then raised his head and shouted. “Bring it here, boys.”

Big Dog and Mills came around the corner of the cabin, each holding one end of a long, sturdy table. On the surface rested a metal pitcher she recognized from the cookhouse, filled with wildflowers. Evie stared, speechless, as they carried the table toward her and set it down carefully so as not to unbalance the pitcher.

Squinty gave the surface a proprietary pat. “We all had a go at it, building and sanding and such. Been working on it nights.”

“It's not as nice as the ones you'll want for your restaurant, but we figured every kitchen needs a work table.” Big Dog slapped a huge hand on the surface. “You won't find one sturdier than this.”

Evie moved toward it slowly, hardly able to believe her eyes. True, it did not gleam like the highly polished table in the Coffinger's dining room back in Tennessee, but the surface was wide and sanded smooth. The swirling design in the wood was lovelier than any she had ever seen. The legs were solid blocks of wood, also smoothed and leveled. That was all she could see, because her vision blurred and her eyes swam with tears.

“I…” She choked, and then turned a tearful gaze on all the men. “I don't know how to thank you. I've never seen anything more perfect in my life.”

Her reward was grins all the way around as the men slapped each other on the back and congratulated one another on a job well done.

The sound of a beating drum rose above their voices, and Noah,
who'd been standing to one side while the men presented their gift, said, “Sounds like Chief Seattle has arrived.” He looked toward the western horizon, where the sun had sunk behind the trees a moment before. “Exactly on time.”

Evie ran her hand over the beautiful table once more, and then hastily dried her eyes and turned to watch the path in time to see the chief's entrance.

He wore a headdress of leather and bark, decorated with feathers that trailed down his back. Miles strode along beside him, his chest puffed with self-importance. They were accompanied by six Duwamish men, five carrying stone tools and one beating on a large drum.

“Over there.” Miles pointed at an open area on one side of the glade and the natives proceeded to that spot. He searched the assembled faces, smiling when he caught sight of Arthur. With a hand, he waved him over. “We'll be seated beside Seattle, you, and David and Noah.” His gaze fell on Evie. “You too, my dear. And the rest of you can gather round.”

Noah slid a hand beneath Evie's arm and guided her toward the area where four of the Duwamish men had begun to clear a wide circle of grass.

“What is going on?” she whispered.

Eyebrows arched high, Noah shook his head. “I have no idea. All David told us was that the Chief wanted to present us with a gift and say a few words.” He grinned. “That's why the men wanted to give you the table they've been working on tonight. They didn't want to be outdone.”

“Gift?” Evie gave him a worried look. “We should give them gifts in return, don't you think?”

“He said not to worry about it,” Noah whispered, but then they arrived beside Miles and Seattle.

The circle was completed quickly, and the chief lowered himself gracefully to the ground. Miles indicated that the others should do
the same, and took a place on Seattle's right. Evie and Noah shared a quick glance, full of humor. Miles had certainly endeared himself to the Duwamish leader.

Noah helped her to the ground. Modesty demanded that she not sit cross-legged, as the men did, so she folded her legs to the side as she would at a picnic. When Evie had settled her skirts around her legs, she looked up to find Chief Seattle watching her. His perpetually solemn expression softened with a brief smile and he dipped his head. Feeling as though she had been honored, Evie nodded in return.

More natives entered the clearing, carrying wood that they piled on the circle of soil. Ah, now she understood. They'd created a fire pit. As the assembled watched, another man appeared on the path, this one with a burning torch held straight out in front of him. He moved with slow, measured steps, his face solemn, obviously following some sort of prearranged ceremony. All the while, the drummer pounded a steady beat that filled the air and rang in Evie's ears. In moments, the wood blazed high. The torchbearer tossed his torch on the top of the bonfire and stepped back to sink to the ground between two lumberjacks.

Chief Seattle lifted his arms and spread them wide in a request for silence. The drum ceased and though no one had been speaking before, an attentive hush came over everyone around the fire. The chief said something in his language to David.

David nodded and spoke in a voice pitched to reach everyone present. “Chief
Si'ahl
asks me to speak his words in our white man's tongue so all can understand.”

The chief lowered his arms and lifted his head. His deep voice projected past those circled around the crackling fire, far into the forest. The words he spoke had the now-familiar sound of their language, but took on a grace Evie had never noticed when spoken in Seattle's fluid baritone. After a few sentences he paused and waited for David to translate.

“My people have lived on this land for many years. Every part is familiar to us. We know the sap that courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear and the great eagle are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, and man, all belong to the same family.”

Seattle spoke again, his words falling with an exotic but oddly calming resonance on Evie's ears.

“Then white men came. Your ways are a mystery to us. You take more trees than you need, and send them away in big canoes. You offer payment for what is as freely yours as it is ours.”

The chief fixed a look on Miles, who seemed oblivious that the comment might have been directed at him and his recent salmon purchases.

“You crash through the forest shouting like wounded elk instead of listening to the earth's voice.”

Evie searched the faces around the circle and exchanged a grin with Ethel, who was trying not to laugh. Flickering firelight illuminated the faces of the Denny girls, one seated on each side of the stocky woman, their eyes round and mouths dangling open.

“But some of your ways are common to ours. I have seen awe in your faces as you gaze over our land, our waters. I have seen the respect you accord one another. I have seen you labor together to meet the needs of another.”

Now Evie found those eyes, darker than the night, fixed on her.

“These are also the ways of my people. When I consider them, I am comforted. Though our ways differ, perhaps we are not so different. As we are part of the land, you are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you. I have hope that we can learn to live side by side, to share with one another. And so I, Chief
Si'ahl
, and my people, welcome you.”

The chief folded his arms over his chest and lowered his head when the echo of David's final words faded. For the space of a breath,
silence reigned. Then someone—she thought it might be Big Dog—let out a cheer and began to clap. Every white settler joined in. Tears filled Evie's eyes for the second time this evening as she clapped until her palms ached.

The chief once more lifted his arms and the drum started again. This time the rhythm was fast and lively, and Evie's heartbeat skipped along with the cadence. More Duwamish tribesmen stepped into the clearing, eight men carrying a huge log. Instead of approaching the circle, they marched past on silent feet, heading toward a place in the center of the glade. Evie and Noah both turned to watch their progress, and she was surprised to see that a deep, narrow hole had been dug in the ground while their attention was focused elsewhere, apparently by those who had cleared the ground for the fire. The newcomers placed the end of the log in the hole and then, working together, slowly raised it up. It settled with a thud, and two men knelt to pack soil around the edges while the others held it in place.

As she looked, Evie realized she had been wrong. This was not merely a log. The surface had been carved and painted with the same vivid colors she'd admired on the courtship poles—only these designs were much larger.

She leaned toward Noah to whisper in his ear. “It's not another marriage proposal, is it?”

His eyes were wide as Cookee's flapjacks. “If it is, you might want to consider accepting this one. It's huge.”

Suppressing a laugh, she answered by jabbing an elbow in his ribs.

He grinned, rubbing his side. “I'm joking. I've heard of these. They're called totem poles. This must be the gift they told David about.”

When the Indians stepped back, the totem pole stood tall and straight. Evie realized its top was on level with the window in her bedroom. If she positioned her cot just right, she would be able to see it in the morning when she woke.

The chief said something and stood, and David leaped to his feet. “He says we can look at it if we want.”

The drum kept up its rapid tempo while they gathered in front of the pole to admire it. Evie saw that instead of one design, the pole actually consisted of many individual carvings, one on top of another, all intricate and colorfully detailed. Some she recognized right away, like the bear head and, at the top, an eagle with its wings spread wide. The words of the chief's speech came back to her. These symbols held special significance for the Duwamish people.

“Look.” David pointed halfway up. “That's a lumberjack.”