Authors: Lori Copeland
Evie planted her hands on her hips and examined the decorations. “Perfect. The whole place is lovely.”
It was. She glanced around the small cabin, which looked even more festive now than it had before at Christmastime. No one ever dreamed the wedding would be delayed this long, but the past five months had been filled with the hustle and bustle of building a
town and the all-important mill. Louisa and David had chosen evergreens to decorate the wedding in honor of the beautiful trees that surrounded the little cabin David built for his sweetbriar bride. The two had gathered boughs from those very trees and just this morning Evie had helped Louisa turn their home into a cozy bower.
The half-door opened and David entered. He caught sight of Louisa on the chair and hurried to her side.
“You should have left that for me,” he chided. “We can't have the bride taking a tumble on her wedding day, can we?”
“Evie,” called a young voice from outside, “come see what Uncle Noah brought.”
“Coming, Margaret.” She started to say something to the soon-to-be-married couple, but when she saw the joy in the eyes they had fastened on one another, she held her tongue. They wouldn't have heard her anyway.
Untying her apron strings, she left the cabin. A group of guests had arrived from town. In the lead, Noah held the guide rope of a mule whose back was laden with bundles. Fixed atop was the wedding gift she and Noah were giving the bride and groom.
“It's chickens!” Margaret danced beside her. “I love chickens.”
Evie hated to tell the child that the chickens would be moving to Aunt Louisa's house within a day or so when David and she had prepared a place for them. Now that Evie's chickens had multiplied and were laying regularly, perhaps she should make a gift to Arthur and Mary as well.
Noah approached, his shining eyes fixed on her. Joy that matched the newlyweds' rose in her as she and Margaret ran hand in hand to meet him.
“You look beautiful enough to be a bride yourself.” His gaze roved over her as if he were starving and she a Thanksgiving feast.
Margaret tugged on his pant leg. “What about me? Am I beautiful too?” She performed a pirouette, the skirts of her new dress brushing the grass.
Noah knelt down and grinned. “You certainly are. I've never seen you look lovelier.”
“Evangeline, there you are.”
Evie turned to find Mrs. Coffinger, or Letitia as she now insisted on being called, bearing down on her.
“I'm sorry we're late. That tiresome Mrs. Sorrell showed up as I was locking the door and insisted she must have a sack of flour before we closed. And then while I was weighing it out, she dawdled around the store, fingering every piece of fabric in the place. I thought she'd never leave.” Her immense bosom heaved with a longsuffering sigh. “But I suppose that is the cross I must bear in being the proprietor of the most successful dry goods store in town.”
Evie hid a smile. For several months after she and Miles opened their store not far from the restaurant, Letitia enjoyed the distinction of owning the
only
dry goods store in town. Now that Seattle was growing, another had recently opened up down near the new pier, in anticipation of the opening of the new sawmill next month. The owners had not yet managed to see a profit, which Letitia pointed out whenever the opportunity arose.
The woman popped open a fan and began to wave it furiously in front of her face, though the temperature was certainly not warm on this January day. “And then Miles had to be dressed again.”
Evie raised her eyebrows. “Dressed?”
“Oh, my dear, he was inappropriately attired. When one is officiating at a wedding, one must look the part, don't you think?”
She started to agree, but the words died on her lips when she caught sight of Miles, who brought up the rear of the party. He certainly did look the part of a justice of the peace. Not only was his black suit impeccably clean and his collar starched and crisp, but his hair had been neatly trimmed and his chin was shaved clean for the first time in Evie's memory.
She turned a look of disbelief on Letitia. “I never thought Miles would shave off his beard.”
“He did not do it willingly.” She sniffed and then snapped the fan closed. “Now, I must get inside and help with the decorations.”
Evie stepped back to allow her to pass. Let Louisa and David be the ones to tell her she was too late to help decorate and that the wedding supper was nearly finished. She looked toward the side of the cabin, where Ethel and Cookee were busy turning a spit laden with wild ducks.
Noah came up behind her, lifted her hair, and placed a kiss on her neck that sent a delightful shiver down her spine. Giggling, she turned. “Stop that. People will talk.”
“Let them.” He put his arms around her and drew her close. “How about if we announce our wedding day tomorrow? I want us to be the second couple married in Seattle.”
The entire town knew of their understanding, and she had fended off more inquiries than she could count from people wanting to know when they would be married. But everyone was in agreement that Louisa and David's wedding be Seattle's first. It was only fitting, since they were among the original settlers.
But so was Noah.
“I think we'd better do it first thing in the morning,” she said with a laugh. “I know two other couples who may try to beat us to the honor.”
She glanced first toward Ethel and Cookee, who stood closer together than was strictly necessary as they watched over the roasting ducks, and then to Lucy and James, who had arrived with Noah and the others and were now making their way, arms linked, toward the cabin.
“I'll make a sign tonight and post it on the totem pole before sunrise.” Noah nuzzled her neck. “I think the day after tomorrow would be a fine day for a wedding, don't you? Before Miles's beard grows back out.”
She opened her mouth to reply when a tug on her skirt stopped her. She looked down into Margaret's brown eyes.
The little girl cocked her head and creases appeared in her brow. “Are you going to smooch, or are you going to get those chickens down so I can feed them?”
Laughing, she planted a quick kiss on Noah's cheek. Then, taking the child's hand in one of hers and her beloved's in the other, she pulled them toward the cabin. “Let's go to a wedding first.
Then
we'll feed the chickens.”
T
he idea for the Seattle Brides series came from a television show that was one of Virginia's favorites back in the 60s. When we got together to brainstorm new story ideas, we rented
Here Come the Brides
, laughed our way through the first episode, and knew we'd found the setting for our next book. Of course, we didn't rely on the television series for our research. From there we delved into history books, journals, and true accounts of the founding of Seattle. What we learned affirmed that we had made the right choice. What a fascinating history!
Though this book is completely fiction, we've used some actual events and people's names in
A Bride for Noah.
The story's timeline for the founding of Seattle is historically accurate. Arthur, David, Mary, and Louisa were real people. Shortly after the Denny party first settled in Oregon Territory (Washington didn't become a state until several years later), Captain Howard of the
Leonesa
came looking for lumber. The settlers, who had moved there with no plans beyond establishing a town and farms, leaped at the opportunity. They volunteered to provide the lumber he wanted and did, felling trees by hand in a very short period of time. Thus began the industry that would make Seattle a profitable city.
Chief Seattle was also a real person, and we were so impressed by
him that he took on an even bigger role in this story than we originally intended. He was, by all accounts, a fascinating, far-seeing, peace-loving man. In this book we used quotations from his now-famous and very moving letter to President Franklin Pierce in 1855.
Miles Coffinger's character was modeled after Doc Maynard, one of the original settlers of Seattle. The real Maynard was a great friend of Chief Seattle's and did undertake a disastrous attempt at pickling salmon. He opened the first general store in Seattle, was the city's first justice of the peace, and performed the marriage ceremony between David and Louisa. He was also quite fond of liquor, but that's where the similarities end.
Evie, Noah, and the other characters are all fictional. The Indian marriage poles were an actual tradition of the Duwamish tribe of that era, but in reality it was Louisa Boren who found three poles leaning against her cabin. We decided that incident was too much fun not to use in our story, and hope you'll forgive us for delivering the poles to Evie instead of Louisa.
We hope you enjoyed reading
A Bride for Noah
as much as we enjoyed writing it! We'd love to hear what you think. Visit us online at
www.loricopelandandvirginiasmith.com
, where you can send us a message and also learn about the other books we've coauthored.
Happy reading!
Lori & Virginia
A
s we conducted the research for
A Bride for Noah,
we came across a letter that was purported to have been written by Chief Si'ahl (Seattle) to President Franklin Pierce in 1855. A lot of controversy surrounds this letter. Some say it was not a letter at all, but a speech. Others say the letter was not written by the chieftain, but by a scriptwriter in the 1970s. Regardless, we were moved by the eloquence of the writing and the character of the individual who penned it. There is no doubt that the real Chief Seattle was a man of intelligence and was committed to peace with the white settlers who arrived in the land long held by his tribe. We thought you'd enjoy reading the letter that inspired us.
The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which 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, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.
The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.
If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.
Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be?
Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?
We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.
As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.
One thing we knowâthere is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We are all brothers after all.