Would-Be Wilderness Wife (6 page)

She cocked her head as if considering the matter, and Drew noticed that her hair was stuck to her forehead like a row of ginger-colored lace. He put his hand to her cheek and found it cool and moist. Was it possible? Had the fever broke during the night?

“Now, why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, pulling back her hand and touching her hair. “Oh, but I must look a fright!”

Drew smiled, relief making the air sweet. “You never looked more beautiful to me, Ma. Shall I make you biscuits?”

She started to yawn and hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand. “Ask Levi. That boy makes better biscuits than the rest of you combined—light as a feather.”

“He's out working,” Drew told her. “You'll have to settle for my cooking instead.”

She was regarding him out of the corners of her eyes, as if she knew she was about to ask something she suspected he wouldn't like. “You might ask Miss Stanway to join us for breakfast.”

Not her, too! “Don't you go getting any ideas about Miss Stanway, Ma,” Drew said. “She's here to nurse you.”

She coughed into her hand, but the noise still sounded healthy to Drew. “Yes, of course she is. And I expect I'll need a great deal of nursing yet, probably for days.” She lowered her hand and heaved a great sigh.

“I have a feeling you'll be up and about in no time,” Drew said. On impulse, he bent and pressed a kiss against her cheek. Her face was a rosy pink as he started for the stairs.

Thank You, Lord!
The thanksgiving was instant and nearly overwhelming. Catherine had been right. His mother was going to live. Their family was whole awhile longer.

Oh, he would have to watch Ma and his brothers while Catherine was at the Landing if he wanted to remain single, but Catherine probably wouldn't be in their lives much longer if his mother's recovery was as rapid as he hoped.

His spirits didn't rise as high as they should have at the thought.

He was halfway to his cabin when he heard the noise—the drum of horses' hooves rapidly approaching. As he pulled up, the sheriff's deputy, Hart McCormick, and several other men from Seattle galloped into the clearing, faces set and bodies tensed.

“Deputy,” Drew said with a nod as they reined in around him. “Something wrong?”

McCormick tipped back his broad-brimmed black hat and narrowed his sharp gray eyes at Drew. “Could be. One of Mercer's belles went missing yesterday, and Scout Rankin tells me you might have had something to do with it.”

Drew held up his hands. “There's no need for concern. Miss Stanway is here and perfectly safe.”

Still Deputy McCormick glared at him, as if sizing up Drew's strength, taking note that he was unarmed. McCormick was tall and lean, with close-cropped black hair and eyes the color of a worn gun barrel. He'd earned the reputation of being one tough character, having thrown off a rough beginning before riding down a number of outlaws in the two years he'd served as deputy. Drew didn't like his chances if the lawman decided to take him on.

Just then, one of the horses pushed forward, and Drew realized the rider was a redheaded woman. Though she wore a divided skirt so she could sit astride, the way she clutched the reins told Drew she didn't have much experience with horses.

“Then you won't mind bringing her out, now, will you?” she challenged, sharp words softened by an Irish accent.

Deputy McCormick relaxed in his seat. “Miss O'Rourke is particularly concerned about her friend.”

Drew lowered his hands. “She's staying in that cabin over there. If you'll give me a moment...”

“Hold these,” the redhead commanded, tossing the reins at Drew. As he caught them, she threw one leg over the horse and slid to the ground. “I'll just be fetching her myself.” She stalked across the clearing, gait stiff.

“Bit of a spitfire,” McCormick commented, watching her. His mouth hitched up as if he liked what he saw. “Still, there's something to be said for a woman who speaks her mind.”

“Yeah,” one of his posse members threw out. “Spinster.”

The others laughed.

“Being uppity seems to be a pretty common failing among those Mercer gals,” another commented, scratching his grizzled chin. “Doc Maynard said this Miss Stanway gave him an earful for some of his practices.”

“She gave us an earful, too,” Drew said, watching as Miss O'Rourke hopped up on the porch and rapped at the door. “And Ma is alive because of it.”

That sobered them. McCormick touched his brim again in obvious respect. “I'm sorry to hear your mother was ailing, Wallin, but I'm glad to know she's on the mend.”

The door to the cabin opened. Catherine stood in the shadows, hair tumbled about her shoulders, his quilt bundled around her. Stocking feet peeped out from below. The sight hit him square in the chest, and breathing seemed impossible. One look at her friend, and she gave a glad cry and a quick hug before pulling Miss O'Rourke inside and shutting the door.

Air found its way into Drew's lungs. What was it about Catherine that made him react this way? He'd seen pretty girls before—not many and not often it was true, but still.

“I thought you said she was stuck-up,” one of the men commented with a frown to his friend. “She looks mighty nice to me.”

“I heard they started calling her the Ice Queen,” another agreed. “Looks as though the Wallins managed to thaw her out.”

“Maybe that's why she needs a quilt,” the deputy said with a warning look to his posse. “Either that or she's trying to shield herself from the criticism of people who came West themselves to escape it.”

His men had the good sense to look abashed.

McCormick returned his gaze to Drew, shifting on the horse so that his gun belt brushed the saddle horn. “The way I figure it, what you do with the gal is between you and her, so long as she's in agreement. If she has no complaints, we'll be on our way.”

Drew nodded, though he still didn't like his chances, for Catherine had every right to complain. She'd been trussed like a calf on the way to market, thrown in the back of a wagon, jostled for miles, threatened with marriage to his brothers and exposed to a virulent fever. Though the last was probably common in her line of work, she hadn't even been given the opportunity to prepare. If she voiced those concerns to the sheriff's deputy, Drew didn't like thinking what would happen to Levi or to him.

McCormick was watching Drew as if expecting something more, so Drew offered, “It's good to know Seattle rallies when one of its own might be in danger.”

The posse nodded. Deputy McCormick leaned closer to Drew.

“The sheriff wouldn't have it any other way. He'd have been here himself except he had to investigate a report of harassment to the south of you.”

“Harassment?” Drew frowned. “What kind of harassment?”

Deputy McCormick straightened. “Stock let loose in the woods, a shed burned, reports of strangers riding past. Your brother Levi wouldn't know about any of that, would he?”

Drew stiffened. “Levi's been helping with Ma. And he knows better than to start a fire out here.”

McCormick glanced around the clearing. “Where is your brother this morning?”

“With Simon and the others, out working.” And he wasn't about to point the direction.

The deputy scratched his chin. “I suppose that's witness enough. Besides, the sheriff thought it might be Indian trouble.”

Drew shook his head. “We've never had any trouble with the Duwamish, even during the Indian Wars. They were always helpful, until these new rules ended up pushing them from their land and trying to force them to settle across the Sound.”

Two of the men bristled, and Drew heard someone mutter about being an Indian lover. He ignored them. His family had always dealt fairly with the natives they'd encountered, and in turn they lived in peace along the lake. But he knew not everyone agreed with that philosophy.

Knowing it might take Catherine a bit to change—at least, it always took Ma and Beth more time to dress in the morning than it did him and his brothers—Drew invited their unexpected visitors to see to their horses. He was surprised his sister didn't come hurrying out of the barn to greet them, but she must have taken the goats to the pasture by Simon's cabin, for he caught no sign of her or the animals.

“You having any trouble with your neighbors, the Rankins?” McCormick asked as Drew watered Miss O'Rourke's horse.

“They leave us alone, we leave them alone,” Drew replied.

“Funny,” the deputy mused. “I heard tell young Levi had words with Scout in town the other day. I thought they were friends.”

It seemed there was little the deputy failed to hear about. But before Drew could answer, McCormick tipped his hat in the direction of Drew's cabin.

Drew turned to see Catherine and her friend coming toward them. Catherine's hair was once more pinned precisely in place, her blue gown surprisingly crisp after her activities yesterday. Never had he seen such purposeful strides. Dirt kicked up behind her with each step. She hadn't confessed to his family how she'd arrived at the Landing. Was she about to tell the law in no uncertain terms the full story of her kidnapping?

Chapter Six

C
atherine tried not to shiver in the early-morning chill as she approached the group. She'd thought surely the events of the day or the strange surroundings would have kept her awake last night. But the moment she'd snuggled under Drew's quilt, which hinted of the scent of fir that seemed to cling to him, she'd fallen asleep, and only Maddie's knock on the door had roused her.

“So off you go running away to live in a palace of cedar like David in the Bible,” Maddie had said, twinkle in her brown eyes. “Leaving your friends a-wondering.”

Catherine had hugged her tight before pulling her inside. “It's fir, not cedar. And what are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Maddie had bustled into the room, picking up Catherine's gown and undergarments where they lay over one of the tall, stiff chairs. “Didn't you think I would raise the hue and cry the moment you went missing? It took a bit of persuading to get Deputy McCormick to move himself, and then I had to beg this skirt from one of the other travelers, but we started out before dawn and followed the hint from a lad and your Doc Maynard.”

She'd held out Catherine's corset, the cream-colored quilted cotton looking warm in her grip. “Come along, now, Catie, me love. There are at least three worthwhile men out there. We want you looking your best. You can tell me what happened while you dress.”

Catherine didn't much care whether the men outside were stellar candidates for marriage, but she couldn't have very well gone out in Mrs. Wallin's nightgown. So Catherine had explained the situation while her friend had helped her out of the soft flannel and into her corset and gown. The dressing had taken longer than she'd expected, even with Maddie's assistance, for Catherine's body was stiff from bouncing in the wagon the day before.

“You see why I must stay,” Catherine had concluded after she'd put up her hair.

At the door, Maddie had glanced out to where Drew stood in conversation with Deputy McCormick. They'd made quite a contrast, the lawman all hard angles and trim lines, the frontiersman all brawn and power.

“Oh, I see exactly why you must be staying,” Maddie had assured her. “He's a bit hard to miss, standing tall as a tree as he does.”

Catherine had felt her cheeks warming as she'd joined Maddie in the doorway. “This has nothing to do with Drew Wallin.”

“Drew, is it now? Sure'n if you've no use for him, you won't mind me batting my eyes in his direction.”

Catherine had known Maddie was just teasing. Aboard ship and since arriving in Seattle, several fellows had sidled up to the redhead, but she'd never allowed them to be more than friends. Catherine didn't know whether Maddie was waiting for the right man or whether she simply had no interest in settling down. Certainly she was one of the most industrious women Catherine had met—doing laundry for men in the boardinghouses and hotels and saving money to open her own bakery. Perhaps that was enough for her. Given Catherine's own views on marriage, it had seemed presumptive to ask.

Now they stood beside the group, and Catherine recognized several of the fellows who served as storekeepers or businessmen in the fledgling city.

“Mr. McCormick,” she greeted the deputy. “Gentlemen. Please tell me you didn't come all this way on my account.”

Deputy McCormick nodded to her, hands gripping his horse's reins. “Just doing our duty, ma'am. Everything all right here?”

Catherine smiled at them all as Maddie went to retrieve the reins of her horse from Drew. She saw no need to tell them about Levi's hand in her transportation. With his mother ill and work waiting to be done, Drew hardly needed more trouble. “Everything is fine. Mr. Wallin and his youngest brother came to town yesterday seeking medical assistance. I was available to help.”

Deputy McCormick frowned. He had the oddest colored eyes, dark and hard, like rocks at the bottom of a stream. She fought another shiver and knew this time it had nothing to do with the cool morning air.

“You left mighty quick,” he pointed out, “without a word to anyone.”

Catherine caught Drew's gaze. From the way he shoved his hands in his pockets, she could tell he was struggling not to join the conversation. She shook her head slightly, trying to warn him. She appreciated his help with the deputy, but she didn't want to see him run afoul of the law.

“I'm afraid I did dash off,” she confessed to Deputy McCormick. “When I hear someone is ill, I tend to act. I'm sure you wouldn't want me to delay if it was your wife or mother lying at death's door.”

“No, ma'am, of course not,” the deputy agreed while some of the men shifted on their feet as if Catherine's words had made them uncomfortable. “But when our womenfolk disappear like that, we tend to worry.”

“Especially when there's so few of us, I'm thinking,” Maddie put in, patting her horse's neck.

“I'm very sorry to have worried you,” Catherine said, keeping her smile in place from long practice. If she could remain calm while delivering the news to a family of death's final decision, she certainly wasn't going to faint under the deputy's hard gaze. “I promise to let someone know if I set out on my own again.”

The deputy nodded. “All right, then. We'll be off. Look out for yourself, Wallin. Ma'am.” He tipped his hat to Catherine.

As the men mounted, Maddie turned to Drew. “Would you be a darling, Mr. Wallin, and help me back on this horse? Sure'n it's a wily beast just waiting to trample me.”

Catherine thought Drew might cup his hands to give Maddie a leg up, but he swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the saddle.

“Well, now,” Maddie said with a grin as she adjusted her seat. “That's more like it. I hope to be seeing more of you, Mr. Wallin, when you come to bring my Catie-girl back.”

Drew inclined his head, but Deputy McCormick's face darkened. “Let's ride,” he barked, and his men wheeled their horses and set off, Maddie with an airy wave over her head to Catherine.

“Thank you,” Drew said as the noise faded among the trees. “Levi's already received two warnings from the sheriff for reckless behavior in town. If you had told them the truth, he might have ended up in jail this time.”

“I did tell the truth,” Catherine informed him, taking a deep breath. Her palms were damp, and she wiped them on her skirt. “I came here to treat your mother. I thought you were going to wake me last night to tend to her.”

She nearly winced as her statement came out closer to a scold. Here she'd thought herself in control of her emotions, yet the entire incident with the deputy sheriff seemed to have thrown her off balance. Or maybe it was Maddie's outrageous flirting. Was her friend actually interested in Drew Wallin? Certainly, he was a handsome figure of a man, heroic even. Perhaps he was just the sort of fellow Maddie had been waiting for. She should be delighted for Maddie, but the thought made her feel as if someone had hollowed out her stomach.

To her surprise, his smile grew, peeling away the years from his face, brightening his eyes. “There was no need to call you. You did it. Ma's well.”

Her heart leaped, but immediately she chided herself. She couldn't give in to such optimism, not until she had seen the lady herself and could verify Mrs. Wallin's recovery.

A humming from the woods heralded Beth's arrival. Today she wore a dress of blue gingham the color of her eyes. Seeing Catherine and Drew, she hurried up to them.

“Why are you out here? Who's with Ma? I thought we had to keep watch over her.”

“Your brother says she's much better,” Catherine explained. “I was just about to confirm that.” She turned for the house, with Beth and Drew close behind. She could feel their excitement, but she refused to let it influence her judgment. Her own eagerness was danger enough for that.

Once in the loft, Catherine sat beside her patient and checked Mrs. Wallin's pulse, her eyes, her breathing and her temperature. Then she sat back with a smile.

“Much better,” she proclaimed. “I'd say another few days and you'll be back on your feet.”

Mrs. Wallin beamed at her. “Because of you, Miss Stanway. Thank you!”

“Yes, Miss Stanway, thank you!” Beth threw herself into Catherine's arms and hugged her tight. “You gave me back my mother!”

Catherine felt tears pricking her eyes.
This is why I practice medicine, Lord—to help people. Thank You for this healing!

Disengaging from Beth, she glanced up to meet Drew's gaze. His eyes were overly bright, and he hurriedly looked away as if determined to keep her from seeing the emotions brimming in them.

“I suppose you'll be leaving us, then,” he said.

Beth leaned back, and she and her mother exchanged glances. Mrs. Wallin drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, I'm sure I won't be myself again if Miss Stanway leaves us now.”

Beth took Catherine's hand. “And I was so hoping we might have time to chat, Miss Stanway.”

Drew glanced back, eyes narrowing. Did he see the manipulation as clearly as Catherine did? They needn't have bothered. She knew she had work to do before she left.

“I'll stay a while longer,” she told them all, and Beth and Mrs. Wallin grinned at each other. “I want to make sure there are no complications.”

Mrs. Wallin leaned back against the pillows with a satisfied nod. “Very sensible.”

“And I also want to track this fever to its source,” Catherine continued.

Drew frowned. “Its source?”

“I thought chills brought on sickness,” Beth said, glancing between them. “You know, you stand outside in wet clothes or you bathe in cold water like the lake.”

Mrs. Wallin stiffened. “I have never bathed in the lake in my life, young lady, and you know it!”

“Typhoid fever is often caused by food or water that came in contact with something it shouldn't,” Catherine informed Beth. “Until we discover what made your mother sick, all of you could be in danger. I'm not leaving until I know we aren't spreading the disease any further.”

She meant the comment for a warning, but the smiles on Beth and Mrs. Wallin's faces were as deep as the frown on Drew's. Just what were the ladies planning that they were so determined for Catherine to stay?