Dropping the clothespins to the ground, she lifted her skirts and raced toward the wagon pulling into the camp. Thankfully some crew members had found him on the tracks and brought him back to camp. Jake could bring the train in later that night.
Emma stopped by the wagon. Lord, please don’t let him be seriously injured. She was beginning to care for Frederick, and her heart couldn’t take another loss.
“Is he badly hurt?” she asked.
One of the men waved a hand at her. “Nah, he’ll be fine. He just went a few rounds with some bucks on the tracks.”
“And lost.” Stanley chuckled as the men carried Frederick to the bunkhouse.
Emma aimed her meanest scowl at Stanley but held her tongue. She could see that Frederick bled from the head and right shoulder. “I’ll get some water heating and tear some bandages.”
Poor Frederick babbled on about how crazy deer acted in rutting season, and something about lace for a lady’s dress.
Lord, he must have taken quite a lick to the head.
Emma reached the kitchen and could see that Mrs. Wilkin was one step ahead of her. The pot of water sat on top of the cookstove. Emma piled wood under the fire to get it blazing. Next she raced back to the clothesline and snatched the most ragged sheet down. She tore several strips with lightning speed.
When she had a sufficient amount, she grabbed the bundle and hurried to the bunkhouse, gasping for breath. Frederick was semi-coherent when she stumbled inside.
“Afternoon, Miss Emma,” he mumbled, his blond hair soaked red with blood.
“Hello, Frederick, I’m glad you seem well—um—as well as can be expected.” Emma breathed a sigh of relief and hoped she didn’t sound scatterbrained. Heat rushed to her face, and she ducked her head, lest he guess her feelings.
“I got you a more appropriate present than a pig, but it got dirty on the way home. I’m sorry.” Frederick’s tone lost some of its sparkle.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m growing quite fond of Bacon.”
“I’d be fond of him, too, on the breakfast table.” Frederick grinned.
Emma bristled with mock indignation. “I can assure you, the darling little thing won’t meet an untimely death and wind up alongside your pancakes one morning.”
Frederick let out a chuckle that shook the bed he was lying on. The man had a sense of humor and for that Emma was grateful.
Mr. Kenicky rushed into the room at that moment followed by Jake.
“Thank the Lord you’re all right, Corrigan.” Mr. Kenicky folded his arms over his chest and studied Frederick through narrowed eyes. “You know, one of these days your luck is gonna run out.”
The doctor maintained that Frederick’s wounds were minor. He told him to keep everything clean and change the bandages often.
“Rest assured, Doctor, I’ll do that.” Emma patted Frederick on the arm and smiled at him. It would be her pleasure to care for this wonderful man. Jake eyed her with suspicion. If he guessed she was now sweet on Frederick, she didn’t think he would understand, let alone be happy about the situation. She didn’t want either man to think of her as childish, so she straightened herself and acted like a proper lady should.
Later that evening Frederick lay back on the bed and tried not to let on how much pain he was in when Emma brought him his dinner. He pasted on a smile. But Stanley stoked the woodstove and stared daggers at him. Did Stanley admire Emma also? If they both wished to court her and Frederick won out, the boss would probably hear all about it. This was a situation he’d have to gauge carefully, or it could become as dangerous as rounding Widow’s Bend without brakes.
“Are you all right?” Emma’s sweet voice drew him to the present, and he gazed across the room at her. She stared at him with one eyebrow cocked and her head tilted to one side.
“Um, yes.” Frederick cleared his throat. “I’d like to thank you for helping out the doctor.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Emma set a basin of hot water on an end table along with a fistful of bandages. She then pulled a chair over to where he lay and tenderly pulled the dried bloody bandage from his head. He gritted his teeth against the pain. God forbid he yelped in the presence of a lady. She began to sponge the goose egg on his right temple with a wet cloth. The coolness was soothing against his skin. He sighed then laid his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes.
As good as the nursing felt, he still chided himself for the stupidity of his actions. How much work would he miss due to this injury? He was determined, not more than one day. Even with his new raise, he couldn’t afford to miss work.
After a moment, he heard the chair scoot back as Emma rose to her feet. “I must be going now. Mrs. Wilkin needs me to help cook supper tonight.”
He smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you more. Perhaps this Saturday we could go for a walk and have a picnic.”
Emma froze. Her heart skittered along like a pebble on smooth water’s surface before sinking into the depths below. Elation that he cared and fear of getting too close wrestled in her heart like two squirrels over the last hickory nut of the season.
“Why, yes, Frederick, I’d love to go.”
“Glad to hear you say yes.”
“I’m looking forward to it already.” Emma prepared to leave the room but couldn’t help grinning with excitement.
“Great. We’ll leave first thing Saturday morning.” Frederick beamed, his blue eyes twinkling.
Saturday morning arrived with a wan mid-fall sun that tried desperately to warm the frigid air, but didn’t quite succeed. Emma took Frederick’s arm as they strolled down a path in one of Tumwater’s most beautiful parks and watched the waterfalls.
Frederick spread the red-checked tablecloth on a picnic table while Emma pulled a plate of fried chicken from the basket. The aroma made her mouth water.
Throughout their meal, Frederick and Emma discussed everything from their favorite books to the places they’d like to visit.
“Emma, I’d like to take you down to Toledo for a short trip. I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin, and they have friends down there they’d like to visit. They would like us to go along. They’ve offered to cover the cost of the train tickets.” Frederick gazed at her with his dreamy blue eyes.
Emma blushed and turned away for a moment to gaze at the water. Again her heart seesawed with emotion, but the desire to get away from the logging camp won out.
“I’d love to, Frederick. When will we go?” She turned back to him and felt goose bumps on her arms, and not from the cold weather.
“We’ll take the train next weekend. If I work extra hours this week, I can afford to take off a day, maybe two. You’re going to love it.”
The November morning was perfect, with one exception. Emma hadn’t finished sewing the lace Frederick had gotten her onto her mother’s gown. She was resigned to her best Sunday dress of plain blue cotton as she and Frederick boarded the train, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin.
The whistle blew steam toward the sky with a loud racket. Emma started and clutched Frederick’s arm tighter. He laid a tender hand over hers and smiled down at her.
“This is so exciting, Frederick. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.” Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks and ducked her head in embarrassment. She was growing quite fond of the wild train engineer and wasn’t sure how to handle that fact.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Frederick took her by the hand and held her steady as the locomotive lurched to life and pulled away from the station. A clackity-clack sound filled Emma’s ears as the wheels rotated in rhythm.
Emma noticed Abigail standing on the station platform with an angry expression marring her features. Jealousy was evident in her furrowed brow and the clenched fists at her sides. Emma cringed, remembering Jake’s words. Abigail seemed bent on causing trouble.
Frederick and Emma rode along, chatting about Tumwater and life in the town. They entered into a lively discussion about Shakespeare. Jake had done a good job o
f keeping Emma educated after the deaths of their parents. Her dark eyes seemed to hold an odd mix of haunted pain and yearning for adventure.
The train slowed to a crawl and came to a stop with a jerk. The Wilkins and Frederick and Emma crowded to the doors to debark. From there the party boarded a stagecoach and rode to Toledo.
“We’re about to round the bend and then the town should come into view.” Frederick directed Emma toward a window and pointed past a clump of evergreen trees in the distance.
“The scenery is beautiful, Frederick. Thank you for bringing me here today.” Emma looked up at him with longing in her eyes. How he wanted to lean down and kiss her rosy lips. As they rolled into town, Frederick noticed a number of buildings that had sprung up since he had been there last. My, how the place had grown. The stage finally rocked and then lurched to a stop. It felt good to stretch his legs as he stepped down from the cramped confines.
“Allow me.” Frederick held his hand out to assist Emma down the stagecoach steps.
“Why don’t we get some lunch at the Koontz Hotel?” Mr. Wilkin asked.
“That sounds lovely,” Emma replied, her eyes sparkling in the sunshine as she kept her gloved hand in Frederick’s strong one.
A stern-wheeler on the river whistled. Emma emitted an unladylike squeal and craned her neck for a better view. She held onto Frederick’s waistcoat as if to steady herself.
“Mighty exciting, eh?” he asked, boldly wrapping his arm around her slender waist to keep her from falling as she turned this way and that, looking at everything. The gasp that escaped from her lips caused his heart to beat faster. She looked up at him with dark ebony eyes that brimmed with anticipation and … passion?
“Thank you kindly for your assistance.” She blinked as if specks of dust had landed in her eyes.
“You’re most welcome.”
The town of Toledo had turned into a bustling place since he had last been there. Crewmen loaded and unloaded cargo from the boats lining the riverbanks. They made quite a racket. Frederick was pleased to see the steamboat the town had been named for. The Toledo blew its whistle again as several passengers scrambled to board before the boat sailed south again, down the Cowlitz River.
Sidewalks lined a few of the streets while others weren’t much more than muddy paths. Ladies strolled along the walkways holding parasols.
Just up and over the hill was Frederick’s childhood home, the one his family lived in before they moved to Tumwater to seek better medical care for his mother. The structure could be seen from downtown, and Frederick squirmed with anxiousness to see the old clapboard house once again. Memories came flooding back.
“Right this way, Emma.” Frederick guided her along the plank sidewalk that lined the muddy street. Their shoes made a clompity-clomp sound as they bustled along. “After lunch, I’d like to show you my childhood home.”
“Oh yes.” Emma wrinkled her pert little nose and lifted her skirts to avoid getting mud on them from a recent rainstorm. He held out his hand and escorted her across the nasty patch of ground. She looked up at him with that same look in her eyes that made his heart skitter like the clanking of Inferno’s wheels across a length of steel rails.
One question popped into Frederick’s mind and haunted his thoughts. Would this fragile flower dare to love a rough and reckless man like himself?
Emma glanced this way and that, studying the town. The polite nods of men in suspenders and women carrying baskets of goods made for a cozy atmosphere. Through her gloved hands, she could feel Frederick’s muscled arms, making her feel safe. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin were there, too, of course, following them around like proper chaperones.
“I beg your pardon?” Emma asked as the sound of Frederick’s voice drew her from her thoughts.
“I asked if you’d like to have lunch here. It is highly recommended by Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin.” Frederick motioned to the hotel they were standing in front of.
He was so handsome. Emma’s breath caught in her throat and for a moment she was unable to speak.
The aroma of fresh beef roasting caused her mouth to water. The cold biscuits she had eaten that morning weren’t sustaining her. “I think that would be delightful.” She gave his arm a squeeze.
After they had eaten their lunch, they walked up the hill leading to Frederick’s childhood home. It wasn’t much to look at. A medium-sized house with a towering redbricked chimney and a lovely rose garden along one side and a vegetable garden on the other. Frederick chatted about the place as if it were Buckingham Palace. Emma’s thoughts drifted as he rattled on about the boyhood pranks he’d pulled.
Emma finally understood Frederick’s enthusiasm. It wasn’t the clapboards and bricks that made this house so wonderful to Frederick. It was special and cherished because he spent a happy childhood there.
A barb of pain jabbed at Emma’s heart. How comforting it must feel to have had been raised in such a home. She vowed if she ever had children of her own, they would not be privy to the horrors she had witnessed as a young girl.
On the way back down the hill, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin interjected with some rather wonderful news. Their friends in town had offered to take them all out for dinner that night.
“This is such a delightful little town, Frederick. The people are generous in spirit and kind to one another.”
“Yes, and Lord willing, it will stay that way.”
Excitement flooded Emma’s heart, and she fairly burst with gratitude for such wonderful friends as the Wilkins. They had provided this adventure for her, and she knew she would never forget it.
The next afternoon, they boarded the train for the ride home. Emma had enjoyed the trip so much and was glad she had gone. She was thinking of the Lord and His promises while standing next to Frederick on the passenger car’s loading platform. Was it really possible for God to heal her deepest hurts and provide her with a husband someday?
The sun was still shining in an iridescent sky, colored with streaks of gold and purple. A cool breeze wafted across the platform as Emma listened to the birds calling to each other. Finally, the whistle blew, signaling their impending departure.
A near frenzy ensued as the locomotive lurched to life and ladies waved handkerchiefs and men hollered good-bye. Conductors busied themselves with ticket collecting and shouts of “All aboard!”
As Emma gazed up into Frederick’s tanned face, her heart pounded harder in her chest. The intense gleam in his eyes mirrored a passion that burned in her veins. His strong calloused hands wound their way through her hair and caught on a few strands.
Frederick wasted no time in tilting her head back and placing his lips on hers. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Emma drank in the warmth of his kiss as her knees went weak. Her heart opened a slight crack and feelings of love for Frederick poured in.
“Oh Emma,” he whispered in her ear with a husky voice. “Please forgive me if I’ve been too forward.” He pulled back and stared deep into her eyes as if to search for some flicker of emotion.
“Please forgive me, Frederick, if I’ve been too forward.” Emma sighed after finding her voice. He simply pulled her closer and held her as the train departed and made its way north to Tumwater.
When the town of Tumwater came into view, Emma excused herself to the powder room to freshen up. She’d cringe and wither away if Abigail saw her in a disheveled state and made fun of her. Especially in front of Frederick.
Chapter 8
Emma held Frederick’s hand as they disembarked Inferno later that evening. Her dress would need a good washing, but she didn’t care. She’d had a wonderful time, and feelings for Frederick were blooming like fresh apple blossoms under the warmth of a spring sun.
As they walked back to the camp, Emma was about to ask where her brother was when a frantic shout rose above the commotion coming from the bunkhouse.
“Dear Lord, Emma Pearson, there you are,” a logger exclaimed as he bolted toward her.
Emma’s blood flowed like cold st
ream water through her veins. Her heart threatened to stop beating but pounded in her chest regardless. Air came in ragged gasps. No, not the last blood relative she had left on this earth.
“Is it Jake?” Emma blurted.
“Yes, he’s got a nasty gash on his head, and the doctor thinks his leg is busted.”
The man’s voice sounded as though he were speaking the words into an empty barrel.
“No!” Emma shrieked as she lifted her skirts and sprinted toward the bunkhouse.
When she burst through the door, she saw Jake lying on a bed with a bloody bandage wrapped around his head. The doctor pulled the bandage away for a moment, and Emma became lightheaded at the sight of so much blood. His shirt was stained red and his eyes were closed. He looked dead. If Frederick’s strong arms hadn’t circled her waist and supported her, she’d have slid to the floor in a faint.
“Oh Jake, you promised you wouldn’t leave me all alone in the world.” Emma stumbled forward, laid her head on Jake’s shoulder, and wept.
“Get this hysterical woman out of here!” the doctor barked. Frederick grasped her by the shoulders and escorted her from the room.
The night crawled on, as if it were passing by on hands and knees. Frederick brought Emma a warm blanket as the chilly night air set in. He held her hand as the minutes ticked past. Without saying a word, his presence radiated strength, and Emma found no shame in leaning into it.
Bacon’s warm body lay at her feet, his occasional grunts and snorts telling her he was comfortable. Jake hadn’t made a sound.
When the last of the crew members left Jake’s side, Frederick reluctantly had to leave Emma alone. She understood the impropriety of his staying in the room all night with her. He left a lamp burning on the table for Emma’s convenience. She sat back in her rocker and thanked God for his care and concern.
Orange rays of the sun finally crept over the horizon and soon morning followed. With sore aching muscles, Emma shifted in her chair. Jake had survived the night and for that she was grateful. But how had the accident happened?
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