Frontier Engagement

by Regina Scott

  “Really?” James wandered closer. Her head was down, her fingers rubbing over each other as if her thoughts tumbled just as quickly. “Which one? Because I personally have always felt Canada should be conquered.”

  She glanced over at him, and he was pleased to see a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “Not Canada. A tiny kingdom in Europe called Battenburgia.”

  James shrugged. “Sorry. My knowledge of geography pretty much ends on the East Coast.”

  “You would never have learned about it in any school,” she said, dropping her hands. “It is a figment of my parents’ imagination.”

  The pain radiated out of her. He wanted to gather her close, but he wasn’t sure she’d let him. “I thought you said you were adopted.”

  “I was, but not through any formal process. Mr. and Mrs. Fosgrave apparently found me and took me with them. I made a good prop in their charade, you see.”

  All he could see was that she needed to let this pain out or it would destroy her. “Sounds like a good yarn,” he said, making for the fireplace. “Why don’t you tell me while I get this fish dressed for dinner?”

  She turned with him. “Shouldn’t someone keep watch?”

  “No need,” James assured her, lifting the makeshift spear he’d used to capture the fish from the stream a ways into the woods. “I don’t see a bear working that latch. Besides, do you hear that peeping noise?”

  She frowned, head cocked as if she were listening. “Yes.”

  “Those are frogs out by the stream. They’ll sing up a storm until they hear something that scares them. And most everything that might hurt us terrifies them. So long as they chirp, we have nothing to worry about.”

  She seemed to accept that, for she moved closer. “How can I help with dinner?”

  James pointed to the hearth. “You have smaller hands. See if you can pry that stone loose. I mean to use it for a fry pan.”

  She set to work, shoulders bunching, as if she put all her fear and frustration into the effort. Keeping his questions locked inside, James filleted and laid out the trout as best he could with the sharp end of the stick, stuffing the fish with the mushrooms he’d picked earlier in the day. He was itching to know more about the people who’d raised her, but she clearly disliked remembering. Yet he couldn’t help thinking that he would finally understand her if he could understand them.

  He waited until she had finished eating the food, picking at the white flesh with her nimble fingers.

  “You never ate this good back home,” he teased.

  “The food might have been better,” she answered, finishing the last mushroom, “but today’s company is far to be preferred.”

  “Families can be trying,” he commented, scraping the bones and skin into the fire. “Take mine. They can demand your time, your loyalty.”

  “And in exchange offer you love and devotion,” she reminded him.

  “And yours didn’t?”

  She dropped her gaze, and he feared for a moment he’d pushed too hard too soon. “Mine made me feel as if I were valued, loved,” she admitted. “But then, it all turned to dust.”

  James slid closer to her, determined to help her release her concerns. “They up and die on you?”

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  His breath tightened in his chest. “Dying isn’t necessarily simple.”

  “But it’s an end,” she insisted, glancing up at him, face puckered. “It’s over and done, and you can get on with your life.”

  Unless you caused the death. “So if your adopted parents didn’t die, what happened to them?” he asked, taking her clasped hands in his own and holding them tight, trying to steady her.

  As if she knew what he was doing, she sighed. “I fear you will think less of me.”

  James frowned. “Did you murder someone?”

  Her head jerked up, eyes wide. “Of course not!”

  “Then nothing you can say can change my admiration for you,” James promised her.

  She paused, head cocked. Did she doubt him still?

  “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear,” James said, sitting taller and giving her hands a squeeze. “You’re one of the most clever, educated, refined ladies it has been my privilege to know. I doubt there’s anything you couldn’t accomplish if you set your mind to it.”

  She frowned.

  “Rina?” he asked. “What have I said wrong now?”

  She tugged away from his grip. “Shh! Listen! The frogs have gone silent!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  For a moment, the loudest sound Rina heard was the pounding of her heart. She’d been nervous enough about confessing her family’s shortcomings to James, and then the forest had gone silent. What had happened to the frogs? Was danger even now creeping up on them?

  James must have thought so, for he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her closer to the plank floor.

  “Stay down,” he warned. Releasing her, he crawled across the floor on all fours, braced his back against the wall and raised himself level with the window to peer through the cracks on the shutters.

  “Is it a cougar?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Worse. It’s walking on two legs and headed toward the door.”

  Rina scrambled to her feet as James crossed to her side. Putting her protectively behind him, he faced the door, fists raised.

  Someone knocked.

  James glanced back at her with a frown, and Rina knew they were thinking the same thing. Would an outlaw knock politely?

  “Beg pardon,” a familiar voice called through the crack. “I’m not here for trouble. I’m looking for my brother.”

  James strode to the door and whipped it open.

  “Can’t a man get a moment to himself?” he demanded.

  Simon Wallin seemed to sag at the sight of James. He put a long-fingered hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You know our family. We tend to go after strays.” His gaze traveled past James to touch Rina. “And Miss Fosgrave, too. How...convenient.”

  Rina felt her cheeks heating as James ushered his brother into the room. James might not take her plight seriously, but she had no doubt his practical older brother would see things differently.

  “How did you find us?” James asked, waving Simon to a spot by the fire.

  Simon settled his tall frame down on the worn planks beside Rina, unslinging a leather pack from his shoulder and unbuttoning his wool coat in the warmth. Underneath he wore the trousers and plaid cotton shirt over flannel she’d seen on all the brothers at Wallin Landing, but his boots were muddy and his long face looked tired.

  “We expected you back from the Crossing yesterday,” he told James, who joined them by the fire, sinking onto the plank floor to sit cross-legged. “When you didn’t return, I set off for McKenzie’s, thinking I’d meet you.”

  Rina frowned. “You walked all the way from Wallin Landing to McKenzie’s Corner in one day?”

  James seemed to be counting the rocks in the chimney.

  “A man afoot can go places a wagon and team can’t,” Simon said. “Speaking of which, where are the wagon and team?”

  “Stolen.” James nearly growled the word. As he went on to explain the situation to his brother, Rina stared at the leaping flames. It had taken half a day to drive from Wallin Landing to Seattle and most of the second day to reach McKenzie’s Corner. Certainly roads curved around obstacles a person might more easily overcome, but she could not help wondering whether James had purposely chosen a more circuitous route just to delay her and give him more time to wear her down.

  It shouldn’t matter to her now. As soon as she reached Seattle, she would have to write to the White River supervisor to explain her delay. Questions would be asked. She was fairly sure in the end he would with
draw his offer of employment. Yet she could not shake the idea that James might have lied to her, just like her parents had.

  “We’ll have to spend the night here,” Simon said when James finished. “We’ll never make McKenzie’s in the dark. I was lucky to smell the smoke from the fire, or I might have missed you.” He turned to Rina. “How are you faring in all this, Miss Fosgrave?”

  “She’s been amazing,” James answered for her, eyes brightening with his smile. “A real asset.”

  Now that was a lie. She knew she’d been more hindrance than help.

  “That’s good to hear,” Simon replied, though his gaze remained on Rina as if he too doubted James’s word. “My brother can use all the help he can get.”

  James rolled his eyes. “I did all right.”

  Simon nodded thoughtfully. “I’d say you did exceptionally well. You lost your team and the family’s wagon, stranded yourself and Miss Fosgrave in the wilderness, threatened her reputation and managed to miss McKenzie’s not once but twice if the trail I followed was yours.”

  Rina stared at James. “We missed McKenzie’s?”

  James raised his hands as if surrendering. “I didn’t know! I was trying to get us safely through this mess.”

  “With an emphasis on mess,” Simon said. “Not many men could achieve all that in the matter of a few days.”

  “I aim to please,” James quipped, eyes narrowing.

  Despite her misgivings, Rina bristled on James’s behalf. Surely he hadn’t intended to strand them like this. His life had been in jeopardy, as well. He’d eaten little food, walked for miles. He couldn’t have chosen all that. She had to let go of this mistrust! Besides, Simon hadn’t been with them. He didn’t know how hard James had had to work to find paths she could travel.

  “Your brother also found us food and shelter for the last two nights,” she informed Simon, “protected us from ravenous predators and kept us moving toward civilization. I have no doubt I would have perished but for him.”

  Perhaps it was his position near the fire, but she thought James’s cheeks were turning pink.

  “Sounds like you had no need for my rescue, then,” Simon replied. “I hope you’ll allow me to follow you back to Seattle. I might get lost without my brother’s tracking skills.”

  She could hear the sarcasm behind the words. Why was he being so unkind?

  James evidently was resigned to how his brother treated him, for he waved a hand. “Be my guest. I’m sure Rina won’t mind the extra escort.”

  Under other conditions, she would have been overjoyed. And she was pleased to hear that Seattle wasn’t so far away. But as James and Simon discussed options and plans, the first emotion to wash over her was disappointment.

  What was wrong with her? They were safe. They were almost home. With Simon’s help, tomorrow would be far less dangerous. She should be over the moon with relief.

  But, for a moment, she’d wished Simon had never found them just so she could spend more time alone with James.

  * * *

  Simon insisted that he and James sleep on the ruined porch, leaving Rina the privacy of the cabin. She wasn’t sure who slept worse—them on their bumpy bed or her with her thorny thoughts. She was thankful for a moment to change out of her damaged gown and into a thoroughly rumpled but at least whole dress of matte blue satin.

  They set off in the morning, following Simon’s trail back through the woods. He went first, with Rina right behind and James bringing up the rear. Knowing they could reach town by nightfall, Rina had managed to convince James to leave the clothes behind, so they made a fairly conventional group except for the tattered nature of her once-fine gown.

  “Ma can loan you one of her dresses,” James said from behind her as if he’d noticed her lifting the sagging skirts out of her way. “It might be a little long and loose, but Beth can fix it.”

  He seemed to assume she was returning to Wallin Landing. “I could not impose on your family’s generosity, Mr. Wallin,” she said.

  She heard him blow out a breath. “If I’m not James by now, I shudder to think what I’d have to do to earn the honor.”

  “Perhaps behave with sense and responsibility?” Simon suggested, reminding Rina he could hear everything they discussed. James must have had second thoughts as well, for he said little the rest of the morning.

  The sun was high in the sky when they broke from the trees onto the main road into Seattle. A passing farmer offered them a ride in his wagon the rest of the way. Rina sat next to James in the wagon bed, with Simon across from them, as the equipage bumped its way west. As if he knew Rina feared the questions that might be asked, Simon engaged the farmer in conversation.

  James hitched himself closer to her. Without her hood to shield his face, his skin had reddened in the sunlight. It made his eyes look all the more blue.

  “So what will you do when we reach Seattle?” he asked.

  Rina sighed, picking at the frayed edge of her sleeve. “Write to the school and await their decision. After that, I’m unsure.”

  “We’d welcome you back,” he said.

  She wasn’t so certain. “Your mother and sister-in-law might have other ideas.”

  “Doubtful,” he said with a grin. “They’d understand the situation. After all, you were with me.”

  Did he mean that as an absolution or an excuse? “Then there’s the matter of Mr. Rankin,” she reminded him.

  James straightened, look darkening. “You leave him to me.”

  She would have preferred to fight her own battles, although she was willing to concede that she might not have the wherewithal to take on a bully the likes of Scout’s father. Yet even as she considered allowing James to address the issue, she knew Rankin’s presence wasn’t the only thing scaring her away from Wallin Landing.

  But she was tired of hiding her nature and her past. After all they had been through, James at least deserved to know the truth.

  “When we reach Seattle, we should talk,” she told him. “Before I feel comfortable returning to Wallin Landing, there are some things you should know about me.”

  James pressed a hand to his heart and spoiled his serious look with a wink. “Why, Rina, have you been toying with my affections?”

  She only wished that was the problem.

  She wasn’t sure where to go when the farmer stopped in front of one of Seattle’s mercantiles. She felt as if every gaze was turned her way, frowning at her disheveled state. Undeterred, Simon went inside to see about horses for hire.

  James took her hand. “I know what you need,” he promised, and he tugged her down the block for the Brown Church.

  The quiet of the sanctuary slipped over her as they entered. She felt as if her worries were slipping away as well. She entered one of the box pews and sat, spreading her stiff skirts about her, lifting her gaze to the interlocking beams of the ceiling. They reminded her of the chapel James had found among the cedars.

  “Be right back,” he promised before disappearing through a side door.

  Rina took a deep breath and bowed her head. Thank You, Lord, for returning us to Seattle, for keeping us safe. I don’t know Your will from here, but I hope You’ll show me.

  The sound of footsteps made her raise her head. James was returning with Mr. Bagley in tow. One look at the minister’s kindly lined face, and Rina felt tears forming.

  “There now, Miss Fosgrave,” he said, sitting beside her on the pew and taking her hand in his warm grip. “You have been through a great deal it seems, but the Lord has delivered you, and for that we are all grateful.”

  Rina nodded, unable to form the words pressing against her lips.

  “She was worried no one would hire her after this,” James said. “I told her that was nonsense.”

  Mr. Bagley eyed him a moment before retur
ning his attention to Rina. “I can understand why you might be concerned, my dear.”

  “If for no other reason than that you were forced to throw in your lot with the likes of me,” James put in.

  Mr. Bagley frowned as if he could not like the interruption. She supposed few would go so far as to interfere with the renowned minister’s declarations.

  “Nonetheless,” he continued, “I fear you are correct that some may see your sojourn in the wilderness as unseemly.”

  Rina sagged. It was one thing to wonder; it was another to hear her fears confirmed. “How can I prove my innocence?”

  “I told her she can teach at Wallin Landing,” James said.

  Mr. Bagley nodded. “That might suffice, for now. But as more and more families move out that way, there may be problems. Will they want their children taught by what they consider a fallen woman?”

  Rina cringed.

  James straightened. “Fallen woman? I may not have your learning, Mr. Bagley, but I seem to recall a story about casting the first stone. Most folks came to Seattle because of trouble back home. They didn’t fit in or they wanted something more. Miss Fosgrave’s no different, and I won’t have her judged for it.”

  He was so determined, so fierce in his defense of her, that she felt her spine straightening. “You’re right, James. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  James nodded, laying a hand on her shoulder in support.

  Mr. Bagley squeezed her hand. “Indeed you haven’t, Miss Fosgrave. Any wrongdoing could be laid at Mr. Wallin’s door. He was your escort. It was his responsibility to see you safely to the White River. I understand he is your betrothed.” He turned to James, feathered brows coming thundering down, and James stepped back under the force of it.

  “If you were any kind of gentleman, sir,” Mr. Bagley scolded, “you would marry this young woman immediately and give her the shelter of your name.”

  * * *

  James’s first thought was that Mr. Bagley had gone mad. Even Rina was staring at the fellow as if she suspected as much.

  “You forget, sir,” James said. “Folks around here don’t think all that highly of my name.”