A Bride for Noah

by Lori Copeland

  While Noah chuckled, she finally released his hands. The older woman spoke up as she did so. “I am Mary Denny. My husband told me of your arrival and your need for suitable accommodations. Our home is not large, but we will gladly make room. You’re welcome here for as long as you care to stay.”

  “Thank you. I am Evangeline Lawrence, and these are my…friends.” Employees sounded almost haughty, and besides, the four of them had become friends in the months since leaving Chattanooga.

  Ethel stepped forward, her eyes fastened on the child in Mary’s arms. “Thank you for taking us in.” She bent forward and smiled into the little face. “What a lovely little lad. May I hold him?”

  “This is Rolland,” said Mary as she handed the little boy over, and Sarah and Lucy immediately crowded around, cooing and chucking his chin.

  “They’ve made a friend in Mary, that’s for sure.” The voice beside her lilted with laughter, and the young woman turned toward Evie. “I’m Louisa, Mary’s sister. Arthur told us of your soggy arrival last night, and of the crew’s response to you. He said they fell all over themselves trying to help you ashore.” A mischievous spark twinkled in her eyes. “That had to be entertaining.”

  Grandfather used to say he could form an impression of a man within ten seconds of meeting him. At that moment, Evie believed him. In spite of herself, she was drawn to Louisa’s wit and ready grin.

  She couldn’t stop a chuckle. “It was rather comical, though I wouldn’t admit that to Ethel. She was quite upset by the whole thing.”

  With a laugh, Louisa tucked her arm inside Evie’s and pulled her close. “You and I are going to be friends, Evangeline. I can see that already.” She spoke over her shoulder as she guided Evie toward the cabin. “Noah, bring the ladies’ things inside, will you?”

  A backward glance showed her that Noah stood staring after them with heavy creases on his brow. For some reason, his bemused expression stirred up a giggle that she had to swallow to keep in check.

  She fell into an easy step with her new friend. “You can call me Evie.”

  Seven

  His Indian companions helped Noah unload the mule, though he noticed they were careful to leave the ladies’ belongings piled neatly outside the cabin door. Apparently Chief Seattle had followed through on his promise to prohibit his tribesmen from entering the white women’s home. After thanking them in their language, Noah opened the half door and entered.

  While he and the others worked the women had talked nonstop, their female chatter drifting outside. Unaccountably, the sound had lifted Noah’s spirits. It had been several days since he’d heard Evie’s voice in anything but a sharp tone.

  Correction. Evangeline. I haven’t been granted permission to become that familiar.

  The thought frustrated him, but as he entered her delighted laughter filled the cabin, and the sound settled lightly in his ears. Not once during the journey on the Commodore had he heard that happy tone from her.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  She turned with a start and the laughter evaporated, her lips tightening into the arrangement he had come to recognize as her annoyance with him.

  Louisa’s answer floated on a giggle. “Evie was telling us about the first time she heard of Elliott Bay and the Oregon Territory, when you wrote to your uncle asking him to bring a wagonload of women here.”

  Mary gave him a playful scowl. “Did you really say that, you naughty man?”

  Noah dug a toe in the hard-packed dirt floor. “It was only a joke.”

  Evangeline’s dry voice came from the corner where she had retreated. “Not a very funny one, to my way of thinking.”

  He met her gaze warily. “I never thought he would take me seriously. I was trying to needle Aunt Letitia.”

  The corner of her lips twitched. “Did it ever. You should have seen her expression.” They exchanged a grin, the tension sinking away with a chuckle.

  Sarah, Lucy, and Ethel had each claimed a stool and a child, and were happily engaged in playing with the family’s youngest members near the fireplace.

  “Noah, come sit next to me.” Mary vacated a chair at the table and scurried across the confined space to the iron stove in the corner. “Louisa made an extra big batch of biscuits this morning and we opened one of the last jars of strawberry jam we brought from Illinois.” She bestowed a twinkling smile in his direction. “I know how you love my jam.”

  “Only save some for David.” Louisa adopted a mock-stern expression. “I’ll not have you shorting my beloved to feed your own greed.”

  Evangeline started to full attention. “Your beloved?”

  “Yes.” Louisa paused in the act of wrapping biscuits in a linen napkin, a dreamy mist settling over her features. “David Denny, the most handsome man in the world.” She drew and expelled a deep breath. “Have you met him?”

  “No, not yet.” She glanced at Noah.

  “Oh, just wait.” Louisa’s enthusiasm practically bubbled. “He is wonderful, and intelligent, and works harder than any three others. He is clearing a plot on his land to build our cabin, and then we’ll be married.” A happy sigh escaped as she smeared jam on a fist-sized biscuit and set it in front of Noah. Then she turned back to Evangeline with a teasing grin. “Only I’m a bit apprehensive to introduce him to someone as pretty as you. I wouldn’t want him getting any ideas.”

  Everyone in camp knew that David Denny’s affection for Louisa Boren was true and unbendable. Noah started to voice his opinion when his gaze fell on Evangeline and he saw her as David would, with fresh eyes. She was quite beautiful today. A becoming rose-colored blush rode high on smooth, round cheeks the color of rich cream. She’d fixed a ribbon in her hair at the back of her head to pull her tresses out of her eyes but left dark waves cascading down her back, their ends dangling at a waist so tiny he could easily encompass it with his hands.

  With a start, he realized he was staring, and that Louisa was watching him with a secretive curve to her lips.

  Mary, perched on a stool near the fireplace, shook her head. “David is smitten with you, Louisa. You know that.”

  Dimples creased the girl’s cheeks as she handed another biscuit to Evangeline. “I know. And I him.”

  Evangeline took the plate to Ethel, who appeared to be enraptured with little Rolland. When she turned, she caught sight of something at the door and gave a tiny scream.

  The three Indian braves who had accompanied them from camp stood there, crowded together to stare inside the cabin.

  “Oh, them.” Louisa patted Evangeline’s arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to them. They show up from time to time to watch us.”

  Evangeline raised a hand to her throat. “Watch?”

  “They seem fascinated with everything about us,” said Mary. “That’s why we keep the bottom half of the door closed. When it’s open they wander right in for a closer look.”

  Amused, Noah watched her rise from her stool, cross to the stove, and take three biscuits. These she distributed to the Indians with a smile.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing them out. “We’re going to close the door now. No offense intended. Goodbye.”

  Though they obviously didn’t understand a word, the men took the offerings, bobbing their heads in unison as she closed the top half of the door. Darkness settled over the cabin, with the only light coming from a small glassless window in the back wall.

  “They’ll come around the back,” said Mary as she lit a lamp and set it on the table in front of Noah. “It’s a nuisance on a sunny day like today, but they don’t mean any harm. At least these don’t.”

  Evangeline turned a wide-eyed look her way. “What do you mean?”

  Noah broke off a piece of biscuit. “They’re from the Duwamish tribe. Their chief is a peace-loving man who is committed to maintaining good relations with the white settlers. Some of the tribes to the north, though, are not of the same mind. It’s a good idea to stay clear of them.” He raised his eyebrows in E
vangeline’s direction to ensure that she understood the gravity of his caution.

  She sank into the empty chair across the table from him, lost in thought. She was a gutsy woman. “There are some things about the Oregon Territory that we must get used to.”

  He nodded and put the biscuit in his mouth. As long as she understood, perhaps she would act wisely, even if he wasn’t nearby to make sure she did.

  Evie stood in the beautiful little clearing for several long minutes after Noah left, staring at the place where he and the mule had disappeared into the trees. Their Indian companions had left with him, and the cabin felt strangely bereft with only the women and children there. Though he’d been nothing but a trial since she laid eyes on him in San Francisco, she’d grown accustomed to his presence.

  Louisa came up beside her. “Noah is very handsome, don’t you think?”

  “He’s comely enough, I suppose.” She avoided Louisa’s gaze. “Though he’s prickly as a cactus most of the time.”

  “Oh? I haven’t noticed that. He’s always struck me as polite and courteous, though guarded. I suppose the hurts of his past have affected him.”

  Evie gave her a sharp look. “Hurts of his past?”

  She nodded. “We’ve gotten to know him a little since he joined our party in Portland last November, but he has never spoken in more than generalities. I gather he was in love with a lady he met in California, and the relationship ended badly.”

  Suffering from a broken heart? That was a new aspect of Noah that Evie had not considered. Yes, he was polite enough, but he seemed to use courtesy as a shield behind which he allowed no one. Courtesy for others, anyway, and a wall of cold stone for her.

  “Ethel and the girls would agree that he is handsome as well as mannerly.” She grimaced sideways at her new friend. “Apparently it’s only me who brings out the beast within the man.”

  Louisa stared at her a moment. Then she bent down and plucked a wildflower from the grass at their feet, twirling it absently as she talked. “When I was a little girl in Cherry Grove, there was a neighbor boy who took great pleasure in teasing me. He pushed me down in the dirt and pulled my hair in church. Every time I saw him I ended up running home in tears. For a full summer he was one of the terrors of my childhood.” She wore a dreamy, far-away look as she ran a finger softly over the flower’s delicate petals.

  “What happened?” Evie asked, interested in spite of the fact that she knew a lesson would be forthcoming.

  Louisa emerged from her reverie with a start. “My papa spoke with his papa, who made him apologize and promise to treat me nicely from then on.” She leaned forward and tucked the flower behind Evie’s ear, her grin broad. “A promise he has kept to this day, and vows he will for the rest of our lives.”

  Realization dawned. “The boy was David Denny.”

  She nodded, and then looked at the barely discernible path by which Noah had left. “Perhaps…” She shook her head, and spoke brightly to Evie. “Come and help us figure out where we shall all sleep. We’ll be cozy for sure.”

  Evie lingered for another moment, thinking about what she had learned. Someone had broken Noah’s heart. That did partially explain the guarded manner he assumed whenever they spoke. Perhaps she reminded him in some way of the lady, the same color hair or other feature that pained him to see. The thought left her a little sad.

  “Coming, Evie?” Louisa asked from the doorway of the cabin.

  Plucking the flower from her hair, she turned toward the house. There was plenty to do without worrying about Noah’s broken heart. She had a restaurant to build.

  And finally she had an inkling of how to go about it. Surely six capable and determined women working together could accomplish anything they set out to do.

  All she had to do was to convince them to help.

  Noah transferred the mule to Cookee, who would use it to deliver lunch to the cutting site. In the command tent he found that the crate containing his ledgers and papers had been moved back inside, along with the flattened log they used as a desk. He ran a hand over the rough-cut surface. Finally, things could get back to normal. The journey had taken valuable time from his schedule, and he felt a pressing urgency to reconnect with work. The success of this lumber venture meant more to him than any man present, with the exception of the Denny brothers. If they succeeded, he would settle here with prospects for a good future as full as anything he’d left back in Tennessee.

  If they failed he’d be left with nothing, destitute. Again.

  He took a moment to read through the ledger, noting David’s hurried scrawl beside his neatly formed script. In his absence, Squinty had been sick with ague for three days and Red Anderson had missed one day with a shoulder injury. He underscored the notations so he wouldn’t miss them when it came time to calculating their pay and then put the ledger back in the crate. Time enough later to compute the men’s wages, a task that could be performed by lamplight. While the sun still shone he needed to get down to the skidway and talk to a man about his time. Snatching up the cheat stick he used to measure the logs, he strode out of the tent.

  The sound of men’s labor echoed through the forest long before he reached the cutting site. Deep voices called to one another over the background of saws and axes, sounds that had become as natural in this area as that of water rushing through the streams or wind rustling in the branches. He stepped out of the trees into a swatch of cleared downward-sloping muddy ground. With a smile of satisfaction he noted the skids. There had to be close to thirty logs piled high on platforms built for that purpose. The men had not wasted any time in his absence.

  A mule came into view, led by Palmer and pulling a log by skidding tongues along the moist ground toward the skidway. When Palmer caught sight of Noah, his expression turned eager and he urged the beast to a faster pace.

  “Did you get the ladies settled?” he asked when he drew close enough for speech.

  Noah held back a groan. Apparently every conversation would now revolve around the women. “Yes, they’re well settled.” He gathered his brow and turned a stern look on the man. “And they are not to be bothered.”

  The man’s shoulders sagged. “We wouldn’t bother ’em none. Nothing wrong with talking to a purty woman, is there?”

  “Nothing at all,” agreed Noah. “As long as the work gets done. Work first, at least for the next month.”

  “Yeah, yeah, the boss already told us that.” A scowl scrunched his face. “But it sure would be nice if they was a bit closer, to my way of thinking.”

  “That’s exactly why they’re where they are.”

  “How’s a man supposed to find a wife around these parts?”

  Noah had plenty of answers to that, but kept them to himself. Instead he helped Palmer guide the mule and position the log before unfastening the skidding tongs. When the man had disappeared up the trail, he set about his task of calculating the board feet of lumber in each of the felled logs. He kept careful records, and as he measured each log he marked it with the stamp hammer that identified it as belonging to the Arthur Denny camp. As he worked, muscles in the back of his neck that had been tight for two weeks relaxed. This was what he needed—to immerse himself in man’s work and forget for a while the complications that came with females. Especially one diminutive female with wavy hair and a stubborn set to her shapely chin.

  So engrossed was he in his work that he didn’t hear the approach of someone from the direction of the camp.

  “There you are, Noah. I’ve finally found you.”

  He turned to find Uncle Miles striding toward him, his face blazing with exertion and his normally neat hair plastered to his damp forehead.

  “I’ve looked behind every tree in this forest and got myself turned around more than once.” He stepped into the soft, moist soil of the skidway and then lifted a foot and inspected it with distaste. He gave a vigorous shake to dislodge the mud that clung to his boot and stepped more gingerly across the trail. “I need you to speak t
o the Indians for me.”

  Noah closed his eyes and sent a silent request for patience toward heaven. Uncle Miles might prove to be as much a distraction as Evangeline. “I’m busy at the moment.”

  “Oh?” He looked at the ledger in Noah’s hand as though he’d just noticed it. “Well, I’m sure whatever you’re doing can wait.”

  Noah cocked his head. “What business do you have with the Duwamish?”

  Uncle Miles straightened. “I intend to pickle their salmon.”

  Noah stared at him blankly. “What?”

  “Or rather, I’m going to purchase salmon from them as well as what I catch on my own, and preserve it. Then I’ll sell it in California.” He rubbed his hands together, a wide grin on his face. “According to Captain Johnson, I am practically guaranteed to triple my investment in a single shipment.”

  Pickle their salmon. Noah stopped himself just before his eyes rolled upward. He was well aware of Uncle Miles’s propensity to investing in schemes of all kinds. He couldn’t recall one that had worked yet. His partnership with Evangeline and his very presence here in Oregon Territory was proof of that, and now he wanted to pickle salmon. Did Evangeline know that his investments had never shown a profit? If not, he certainly would not be the one to tell her so.

  On further consideration, the salmon idea held promise. It was true that every time Captain Johnson visited this distant place on Elliott Bay he set aside time to sail along the shoreline, stopping at all of the native villages in the area in order to buy as much salmon as they would sell him. Afterward, he made haste to return to California before the fish spoiled.

  Even so, Noah couldn’t allow himself to be distracted from his work.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to take you to the Duwamish village right now.” He held up the ledger. “Next month, when we’ve settled this contract, I’ll gladly help any way I can.”