He took advantage of my girlhood infatuation, coaxing me with love letters to join him on Shoalwater Bay, against my father’s better judgment. I learned too late that William had sent me a proposal of marriage only because a married man could claim twice as much land as an unmarried man. When my ship was delayed, William, fearing that he would lose out on his precious land, took an Indian wife.
It saddened me to think that Papa had been right after all. But I also liked to think that Papa would have been proud of how well his wild, red-haired daughter had survived.
As I neared my claim, I felt my heart ease at the sight of my land. It had been a gift to me from Jehu. Only white men were allowed to have claims in Washington Territory. In order to get around this little problem, Jehu had simply written “J. Peck” on my paperwork, and no one was the wiser.
Up on the grassy hill, I saw evidence that Jehu and Keer-ukso had been hard at work. Part of the roof was up, and various tools and supplies were scattered about. But no one was in sight.
“Jehu!” I called.
“Over here, Boston Jane,” I heard Keer-ukso shout from somewhere behind the house.
I made my way toward a shelter of trees, where Keer-ukso stood staring down at the ground and shaking his head.
“Boston Jane, tell Jehu that the hole is big enough and to come help finish roof,” Keer-ukso said.
I peered down into the deep hole to see Jehu, covered head to toe in mud, digging away.
“What are you doing down there?” I asked.
He grinned up at me. “Digging you a privy!”
I reddened.
Keer-ukso clucked his tongue. “It’s deep enough. Come help with roof.”
Jehu rubbed a dirty forearm across his face, leaving a brown smear. “I reckon you’re right. What do you think, Jane?” he teased.
“It’s quite adequate,” I said primly.
Jehu looked up to Keer-ukso. “Here, give me a hand up.”
We three walked back to my house, and then I stood with Keer-ukso while Jehu went down to the stream to wash off.
Keer-ukso patted me on the arm. “Jehu, he is crazy to dig that hole.”
“Would you dig a hole for Spaark?”
“Nowitka,” he said, his expression serious. Nowitka meant certainly. A mischievous gleam entered his eye. “But I would have Jehu do the digging!”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Jehu asked.
Jehu stood at the edge of the clearing, his skin slick with a fine sheen of water. He looked so handsome standing there, his black curly hair brushing the nape of his neck, his face tanned from years at sea. My heart gave a little flip just looking at him.
“I am telling Boston Jane that you have no sense,” Keer-ukso said.
But Jehu was barely listening to him. He was staring at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his, and I blushed under his knowing gaze, hastily pushing a rather vexing lock of hair off my forehead. Jehu caught my eye and gave me a little wink.
“Have time for a cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice husky, the tilt of his head rakish as any self-respecting pirate’s.
“I need to get back to help organize supper.”
“Not so fast, Miss Peck,” Jehu teased, easily grabbing my hand in his warm larger one and tugging me in the direction of his house. “I reckon you can spare a minute for the man who dug your privy.”
Keer-ukso looked up at the sky in mock irritation. “No, do not ask me, best friend and business partner, if I want coffee?”
Jehu looked back at Keer-ukso and grinned. “Go on and get started. I’ll bring you some on the roof in a moment.”
Keer-ukso scoffed.
Jehu had taken a claim on a piece of land bordering mine, and on it stood a small, sturdy cabin. It was tidy and smelled good, like him. I took a seat at the table—a beautiful piece of furniture, the top hewn from a single piece of cedar. Jehu was a marvelous carpenter, having worked for so many years on ships.
He gently pushed a curl off my forehead and tucked it behind my ear, brushing his lips against my cheek. I leaned into him, the stress of hearing news of William Baldt melting away in the face of Jehu’s easy company.
“Let me get that coffee,” he murmured.
I felt a warm tingle in my belly as I surreptitiously watched him add three sugars and a careful pour of milk to one mug. It was exactly the way I liked it.
Miss Hepplewhite would have been appalled to see Jehu do the pouring. She believed it was a lady’s duty to entertain a gentleman, and pouring tea and coffee was held in particularly high esteem. But as Jehu handed me the mug and I took my first sweet, perfect sip, I knew that Miss Hepplewhite had been most mistaken. Truly, there was nothing better this side of heaven than having Jehu Scudder pour my coffee.
“When do you think the house will be finished?” I asked.
“I reckon we can have you in by the Fourth of July.”
“Marvelous!” I said.
“When we have the lumber mill up and running, things will be a lot easier.” He leaned forward, his eyes intent. “I tell you, Jane, this lumber mill is going to make a fortune. The way me and Keer-ukso have it figured, we have good relations with most of the settlers, and people are starting to clear their land. Whoever gets a mill up first will get the best contracts, and we aim for it to be us.
“All we need now is some capital. Sooner or later, some prospector is going to turn up with a pocketful of gold, and I’ll be just the man to invest in,” he said.
Jehu had been a successful sea captain, but he had given up the sea to remain here on Shoalwater Bay and make a life with me. What if he couldn’t succeed in this dream? I would do anything I could to make his new venture successful, but unfortunately I had no connections in such matters, nor did I have funds. Several months before, I had written our family solicitor in Philadelphia requesting him to send me the details of my inheritance from my father, but I had heard no reply as yet. I actually had no idea how much money there was from the sale of our house on Walnut Street, although I feared it would never be enough to help Jehu.
“Keer-ukso and I will be rich men one day, mark my words,” he said with a touch of rakish confidence. One black curl flopped across his forehead.
And then Jehu leaned across the table and kissed me, a kiss sweeter than the very sugar in my coffee. It tasted like hope and the future all wrapped up together in one long heartbeat.
“Oh, Jehu,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just know you’ll succeed.”
“But only if I get back to work.” He tweaked my nose. “Now I best go take Keer-ukso some coffee before he gets irritable.”
“Keer-ukso never gets irritable,” I said.
“You haven’t seen him without his coffee.”
I punched him in the arm and he chuckled.
Mrs. Frink was waiting for me in the kitchen when I returned to the hotel. And she was looking decidedly ruffled.
“Jane,” she said, working at sounding calm, “there’s a gentleman in the parlor who would like to speak to you.”
“Really?” I asked. “Did he give his name?”
Mrs. Frink cast a wary glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice a notch. “No.”
As I rounded the corner, an incredibly gamy scent hit my nose. And then I saw the enormous bundle of fur sitting on the parlor’s best settee.
“Hairy Bill!” I exclaimed in delight.
“Miss Jane,” he said with a respectful tip of his head.
Hairy Bill was one of Shoalwater Bay’s most notorious men. An accomplished thief, he had been run off the bay the previous fall for stealing. He had gotten his unusual name from the massive cape of animal pelts that he wore everywhere.
“How are you, Mr. Hairy?” I asked.
He removed a rifle from the folds of his furry cape and cackled. “Reckon you didn’t think you’d ever see this again!”
I must admit that I was astonished. I had never expected to see that rifle again. M’Carty had lent it to
Jehu, but Hairy Bill had disappeared with it following a chance encounter. Although he had left an I.O.U., I recalled.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the rifle from him. “I’m sure M’Carty will be happy to have this back.”
He nodded. “I always settle my debts.”
“Are you supposed to be in town?” I asked carefully.
“I reckon not,” he said, and sniffed the air. “That sure does smell good.”
“Come into the kitchen,” I said with a good-natured laugh.
I set out several serving dishes in front of him—roast chicken, hard-boiled eggs, leftover baked potatoes from the previous night’s supper, oyster pie, fresh milk, and some biscuits from breakfast. It was a feast large enough for several men.
Hairy Bill attacked the food as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in months. In no time at all he had eaten every scrap in sight, and with a satisfied expression on his face, he sat back and belched.
“’Scuse me,” he said. “That was mighty tasty. You sure are a real good cook, Miss Jane.” He leaned back in his chair. “So you work here now?”
“I do,” I said. “And I have a room upstairs.”
“Sure is a nice place,” he said, an edge of longing to his voice.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed.
“And that Jehu feller, how’s he?” he asked with a knowing look.
“Jehu is very well. Thank you for asking.” I blushed.
Hairy Bill chuckled. “He’ll make a good husband, eh?”
I poured us each a cup of tea. “Now you’ve heard all about me. Where have you been?” I asked.
“Jest about everywhere in the territory, I reckon,” he said.
“Weren’t you going to try and woo your wife back?” I asked.
When I had met Mr. Hairy late this past fall, he had expressed his great desire to win back the love of his wife, who had kicked him out. Clearly I had hit a raw nerve, for the man’s face fell and tears welled in his eyes.
“Well, I paid a preacher feller to write her a letter and sent it, but didn’t hear from her, so I went back to see her,” he mumbled.
“And what happened?”
Fat tears began to slip down his cheeks. He wiped at his eyes with a mangy scrap of fur.
“Oh, please, Mr. Hairy,” I beseeched him. “Don’t cry. Here, use my handkerchief,” I said, passing him my own white lace one.
He blew into it and wailed, “When I got there, there was another feller living in my house!”
“So what did you do?” I asked.
“Nothing I could do,” he said with a sad sigh. “You can’t make another person love you. Why, that would be like asking a pig to fly. A person’s gotta come to you on their own.”
I considered Jehu, and our long courtship, and thought of how far we had come. “I suppose you’re right.”
There was a long pause while we both considered his sad tale.
“Jane,” he said.
“What?”
“You know I’m pulling your leg, doncha?”
“What?” I exclaimed.
He guffawed. “Jane, you sure are a sweet girl and all, but you gotta wise up! How’m I gonna walk all the way to Richmond? I’ve been in Astoria the whole time. Finally ran out of whiskey money.”
“Jehu told me not to believe you!” I said.
“Yep, you’ve got a good man all right. I’d hang on to him if’n I was you.” He yawned widely and heaved himself up, tugging his furry cape around his shoulders. “I reckon I better be moving on now. Thanks for lunch, Miss Jane.”
“Why don’t you stay here for a night or two?” I asked impulsively. Really, thief or not, this man had once saved Jehu’s life, and he had obviously been having a very hard time of it lately.
“I don’t have that kind of money, Miss Peck,” he said.
“You can stay in the storage room. It’s dry and we can fix up a bed for you. Maybe you can lend a hand around here in return.”
“Well that’s mighty kind of you, Miss Jane,” he said.
“Just don’t … borrow anything,” I warned.
“You’ve got my word of honor,” Hairy Bill promised in a sincere voice. “I’m a reformed man.”
I had no sooner settled Hairy Bill than I heard someone ring the bell at the desk. A man was standing with his back turned to me, looking out the curtained parlor window.
“May I help you?” I asked.
“Jane,” said my former betrothed.
He looked much the same as when I had last seen him. If anything, he looked better, even more handsome.
“Happy to see me?” William drawled.
“Not particularly,” I said. “I already knew you were in town.”
“My, but you do keep track of my movements. Could it be that you still have some affection for me?”
“Not likely,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
“I should think that would be apparent enough,” he said. “I’d like a room.”
“A room? Here?”
“This is a hotel, is it not?” William scrutinized my blue dress. “I see you have persisted in spurning my advice.”
Green suits you, Jane. You should always wear green.
“I prefer blue,” I said. “So tell me, Dr. Baldt, what are you doing these days? Planning to round up the local Indians and put them on a reservation?”
“Actually, I’m here on a private matter,” he informed me in an important tone. “Business.”
I felt relief wash over me at the revelation that he was not here to endanger the Chinooks. Still, what was he up to?
“I understand you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Mr. Biddle,” I said. “How interesting. Did you lure him out here with lies as you did me?”
“Jane, Jane,” William said as if I were a tiresome child. “It was certainly fortuitous that we did not marry. You would not have made a suitable wife.”
“And where is your wife?” I shot back.
“I sent her back to her tribe.”
“That’s very romantic,” I said in a sarcastic voice.
“For your information,” he said coolly, “she was homesick. And what would you know about romance anyway?”
I felt a flush burn through me.
“I know quite a bit. In fact, I’ll have you know that I’m engaged to be married.” I immediately bit my lip. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that!
William looked stung even though he’d been the one to throw me over. He regained his equilibrium quickly.
“Is that a fact?” he asked. “To whom?”
I swallowed and blustered on. “Mr. Jehu Scudder.”
“Ah, yes. The sailor with the scar.” He contemplated this for a moment. “At least he’s a suitable husband for someone who’s turned out the way you have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Simply that your father would be disappointed in this turn of events.”
“My father would be proud of me! And besides, he never wanted me to marry you in the first place!”
“You’ve never learned not to contradict people who know better.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t be bothered. “I’ll come back when you’ve regained your composure.”
“Go jump in the bay!” I shouted.
I stared at his departing back, furious at myself for letting him bait me into saying that I was engaged to Jehu. But then again, I thought, why shouldn’t I? Jehu and I were going to spend the future together, weren’t we? Everyone assumed we were getting married, even Hairy Bill. Why, he was building me a house and digging me a privy, for heaven’s sakes! A man would not dig a privy for a woman he did not care for, I knew that much.
But a tiny thought nagged at me. Jehu had never actually asked me to marry him. Even horrible William had had the decency to offer me a proper proposal of marriage, and Keer-ukso and Red Charley proposed to me every other day.
Only Jehu, the man who held my heart, had never actually said the simple words I longed to hear, t
he ones I heard in my head even now.
Jane, will you be my wife?
CHAPTER SIX
or,
Pies
I had spent the better part of the next morning making certain that the hotel was in good order, and my duties seemed endless. I checked with Millie the schedule of rooms to be cleaned. I drew up an order for Star’s. I negotiated a payment plan with an oysterman. I managed to find a spare trouser button for one of our male guests, as well as a hat pin for Mrs. Biddle.
Now, as I stole a quiet moment in the kitchen after the rush and clatter of breakfast, the back door banged open. Jehu sauntered in and put a jar on the table.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Molasses.” He was looking pleased with himself.
“Why would I want a jar of molasses?” I burst out.
Jehu’s smile slipped. “So you can make pies, of course.”
“Is that all I’m good for?” I asked wildly. “Baking pies?”
Jehu looked behind him nervously. “I best be going. There’s a ship coming in that I need to help unload.”
And he was gone.
I stood there staring at the door as it banged against the frame like a portent of doom. The door to the kitchen bounced open and I started, expecting to see Jehu standing there.
It was Spaark carrying a basket.
“I just saw Jehu,” she said. “Going that way.”
I took a deep, calming breath. What had come over me?
She looked quizzically at the molasses on the table. “I thought you told me to buy molasses.”
“Jehu brought that.”
Her eyes were shiny with excitement.
“Why are you so happy?” I asked.
“Keer-ukso,” she said. “He said when the mill is up he will be a rich man, and then can trade with my father and I will be his wife!”
“Oh,” I said, feeling unaccountably sorry for myself. “That’s wonderful.”
She looked at me quizzically. “What’s wrong, Boston Jane? You like Keer-ukso, yes?”
I looked down, shamefaced. Who was I to ruin her happiness?
The Claim Page 5
