Travis Gates had told her that there were two other young women, new brides who were lonely themselves, and hinted that it would not be as difficult as she imagined to find friendship in the camp. But Percy had not taken time to socialize with her new neighbors beyond returning Lacey’s morning wave several times. As it was, she fell into bed each night exhausted by the day’s labor. The thought of having to be polite and engaging with other civilized people overwhelmed her. Her mind was focused on the job she had come to do, and she had not expected to have friendships with other women at a lumber camp. Despite the clear availability of four other young women, Percy could not muster the energy to be sociable and so she made no attempt.
Dealing with the lumberjacks was another matter. She had to face the whole lot of them morning and evening, but nothing dictated that she had to be sociable. Every time Matt Harden came into the mess hall, he looked as if he wanted to say something, but he never did. She looked him in the eye and waited, but nothing came. After the first two days, Percy paid no attention. If he had something to say, he should just say it, she told herself. She was far too busy to try to urge it out of him. Troy Wilger glared at her each time he passed through the line and consistently found something critical to say about the food, generally in a very loud voice. But Percy could not help noticing that he came back for seconds more frequently than anyone else. She was sure she would please his appetite once she had a full range of staples available.
Most of the other men scrutinized her more silently. As they filled their plates at the serving table, their eyes were more often on her than the food. She refilled the platters as quickly as they emptied them. If anyone stared at her, she stared back fiercely and intently. Once Troy Wilger had caught her staring down a younger lumberjack and roared hilariously and within seconds the whole mess hall shook with laughter at the standoff. Percy blushed with fury but did not break her glare. Finally, the man moved on through the line. The laughter heightened, but this time the young man blushed. After that he did not look Percy in the eye again, and not many others did, either.
At the end of the first week, Percy sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed and brushed her hair. Most of the time, her long, coal black hair was pulled tightly behind her head for it simply was not efficient to have it flowing around her shoulders while she cooked and cleaned. But she did not forget she had beautiful hair. She stroked it each night with slow, thorough, long movements that kept the hair thick and lustrous. Her father had had the same beautiful thick, wavy, black hair and the same fair complexion Percy had. She remembered standing beside him as a little girl, looking into a mirror and giggling at the resemblance. She had taken such pleasure in it in those days.
But that’s as far as it goes, she told herself now. I got your hair, Papa, but I don’t have to have any of the rest of you. And I don’t want any of the rest of you.
Without getting up, she tossed her brush into the open trunk. The giggling little girl in the mirror was someone else—at least it felt that way sometimes—and those memories belonged to another lifetime. Percy Morgan no longer had the luxury of indulging in sentimental moments. Giggles were not only childish but irrelevant to real life, at least to the adult life into which she had grown.
It was late. Dawn would come soon and it was imperative that she sleep. But still she feared that she would not.
Chapter 8
One morning a week later, the men burst through the mess hall door in a pack, as they had done every morning. Percy was ready for them; her days had fallen into a routine that improved steadily. The breakfast rush, which came so early in the morning, took her less by surprise every time. Exhaustion still enveloped her each night, but its onset came later and later. She might soon wish that she had something pleasurable to read in the evenings. She could reread her favorite novels, of course, or her book of poetry, the three volumes that sat on her nightstand. Her grandmother’s Bible was still safely tucked away in the trunk. Grandmother would never let a day pass without reading it, but Percy had long ago given up the habit of looking for encouragement in its pages. Percy had always thought her grandmother’s habit a sweet one, but after what had happened in her family, she was not sure God was someone from whom she cared to hear. Perhaps Lacey would have a book to loan her.
Percy had worked sixteen days in a row and for the first time would have an afternoon and evening off. She and Travis had agreed that twice a month she could prepare a cold supper during the day and the men would look after themselves for the evening meal. Travis even promised to assign a cleanup crew so she would find no surprises when she returned late in the evening.
The question was, though, what would she do with an entire afternoon and evening off? There were no restaurants to eat in, no concerts to attend, no parks to stroll through; and it would hardly be restful to hole up in her dingy room and pretend not to hear the commotion in the dining hall. Percy supposed she could lace up her sturdiest boots and go for a hike to explore the countryside around the camp. She had seen very little of it so far because getting the mess hall and kitchen into some semblance of order had demanded her full concentration. During the last few evenings, she had begun to imagine ways to make her small bedroom more comfortable and appealing. But she had not yet wandered off the dirt road that ran through the camp.
While she served one plate after another with sausage, biscuits, and gravy, Percy’s mind planned out the details of the rest of her day. The noise and commotion that she had found deafening on her first morning barely got her attention today. She nodded somberly at the men who greeted her, averted her eyes from the ones most likely to make lewd remarks, and worked rapidly. The sooner they had their breakfast, she told herself, the sooner they would be ready to go. In the corner by the door stood the crates packed with their lunch—bread, cheese, ham, cookies, jugs of tea. She wanted to add apples to the daily lunch menu as soon as Travis could arrange to get some. Percy supposed a farmer farther south on the peninsula might be able to supply them. Apples were not something that would require sending an order to a big city.
Having inhaled their morning nourishment, the men swarmed out just the way they had swarmed in twenty minutes earlier. The mess hall was empty and quiet except for the sound of Percy clearing tables, loading dishes onto a cart, and pushing it to the kitchen. With an exasperated sigh, she realized she had forgotten to put on the big pots of water to heat so she would have hot water for cleaning up. Now her day’s schedule would be delayed by at least half an hour. Percy pumped water into smaller pots, dumped them into the larger pots until they were full, stirred up the embers in the stove, and shoved in three more pieces of wood.
On an impulse, and perhaps because she was feeling agitated about the irregularity of the day, she decided to take a walk while the water heated. The mess hall was situated toward one end of the short street that ran through the camp. She would walk briskly up one side of the street and back down the other, and as she went she would look for trails or paths that she might want to follow later. Resolutely, she wiped her hands on a dish towel, removed her apron, straightened her blue cotton skirt, and headed for the door.
The day outside was golden, the energy of spring still in the air but the strength of the morning sun bringing a promise of summer. The trees had filled out nicely with their leaves and blossoms, sending sprays of color across the road. The last wagon of lumberjacks had just rumbled out, and the dust had not quite settled in the street. Percy observed that a light sprinkling would help to tamp down the dirt without turning it to mud, the way many spring thunderstorms did.
She headed up the street. By now she knew what all the buildings were: three nice houses where real families lived; two lean-to structures where young brides waited patiently for their husbands to have time and money to build homes; the offices of Travis Gates, Peter Regals, Tom Saget, and a few others who helped to manage the business activities of the camp. Behind the mess hall were the bunkhouses where most of the men slept and at the far end,
the stables and barn. Various other outbuildings dotted the landscape, and Percy knew there were more temporary shelters spread around the lumbering area.
She marched up one side of the street, making a mental note that one day she would visit Travis Gates in his office. In that professional setting, she would tell him what she needed and her plans for improving the diet of the men over the next year or so. No doubt he would be surprised to hear her talking in terms of next year; she was almost surprised herself. But she was determined to make this job work, despite the odds against it. And to do that, she had to think about the future in a way that sounded real.
Percy reached the stables, crossed the street, and started back down the other direction. Halfway back to the mess hall, she heard her name and looked up. Lacey Gates stood a few feet beyond her with a small boy in her arms.
“Good morning!” Lacey called.
“Good morning,” Percy answered.
“I’m glad to see you out. I’m sure you’ve been busy getting settled in, but I was hoping we would have a chance to get better acquainted.”
“Thank you for your unexpected hospitality on my arrival,” Percy said sincerely.
“My porch is your porch,” Lacey answered lightly, “any time you get hit on the head. How is your head?”
Percy touched her fingers to the spot that had been bleeding. “I’m quite recovered. It wasn’t really so bad after the bleeding stopped.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Josh. He’s been wondering.”
“Oh, has he?”
“Yes. But he seemed hesitant to make a pest of himself.”
“I was grateful for his help,” Percy said, knowing that she had not acted very grateful on the day of her arrival or the time that Josh had come to check on her.
“This is my son, Caleb,” Lacey said, turning the toddler on her hip to face Percy. “He’s three.”
“And you have an older one?”
“Adam. He’s six. He’s at my friend Abby’s house.”
“Abby. So that’s her name. I’ve seen you weeding your garden together.”
Lacey nodded. “I’m afraid we may have planted a bigger plot this year than we can handle. But the children are getting old enough to learn a bit about gardening. We’ll soon put Nathan and Adam to work.”
“It’s nice that the kids have each other to play with,” Percy remarked.
“Yes,” Lacey agreed quickly, “and it’s nice that they live so near each other. Abby and I had to go through a lot more trouble to see each other when we were small.”
Percy perked up. “How long have you known Abby?”
“Nearly twenty years,” Lacey answered, “since we were about nine.”
“I had no idea anyone had been living in this camp so long.”
Lacey laughed. “It wasn’t this way twenty years ago. When Abby’s father and mother moved here and brought her along, everyone thought it was scandalous. But I was delighted. I lived over at the lighthouse, several miles away. I had four brothers and no sisters. Abby and I were bosom friends as soon as we laid eyes on each other.”
“And now you both live here, as neighbors.”
Lacey laughed again. “When we were thirteen, we promised each other we would never marry lumberjacks. We were going to follow our dreams to the big city. But here we are—and very happy.”
“It’s ironic,” Percy said. “I grew up in a city with thousands of people around me, and I can’t think of anyone that I’ve known for twenty years.”
“No one?”
“No, not anyone.”
“Surely you must have some family, perhaps cousins or other relatives?”
Percy shook her head.
“I have cousins scattered around the state,” Lacey went on. “Some of them came to visit us in the lighthouse, but that hardly ever happened. It was too hard to get to us in those days. If anyone came, they had to stay for weeks or months. We visited my grandmother in Milwaukee a few times when I was a child. I suppose I have other relatives that I don’t even know about. You probably do, too.” Lacey looked at Percy expectantly.
Percy shrugged. Why was Lacey so interested in her family tree? She did not offer any further information.
“I’m glad I caught you out and about,” Lacey said brightly. “Travis tells me you have the evening off.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Do you have plans?” Lacey said, grinning.
Percy could not help but laugh. “Well, it will be difficult to choose among the many entertaining options available to me. I thought I might take a hike and carry a picnic supper.”
“Let me make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“What would that be?”
“Come to our house for supper. You’ve already seen the back porch. Now you can see the rest of the house.”
Percy’s mind formed the words to decline the invitation, but before she could get them out, her heart overwhelmed her. She was lonelier than she wanted to admit. “I would love to do that,” she said. “What can I bring?”
“You cook for fifty men twice a day and pack a lunch for them to take to the work site. I don’t think you need to worry about bringing anything to our table.”
“Perhaps one day I’ll be able to return the favor,” Percy said. “In the meantime, it would be delightful just to sit down to a nice meal without having to multiply a recipe times ten.”
“We’ll see you about six o’clock. That will give you time for a late afternoon hike, if you still want one.”
“Thank you. I think I will try to do a bit of exploring.”
“Stay to the trails, and you won’t get lost. Most of them lead to places where the lumber has been cleared.”
“I’ll be sure to be careful.”
Caleb’s patience wore out and he squirmed to be put down. “Let’s go, Mama,” he said.
“Okay, Caleb. We’ll go. Say good-bye to Miss Morgan.”
“Good-bye, Miss Morgan,” Caleb said obediently, already pumping his little legs to move down the street.
Percy waved good-bye and stood still for a moment. She was caught off guard by what had just transpired. She had not realized how anxious she was to know some of the other people in the camp, but like a neglected orphan, she found herself warming to Lacey’s overtures of friendship. If there were others like Lacey, the camp would not be such a difficult place to live, after all.
Chapter 9
Percy wished for a mirror. Surely no one would think her vain for wanting to be sure her buttons were straight and her hair in place. But she had no mirror in her small room and she would have to do the best she could to dress for dinner at the Gates house. Percy had not seen an image of herself for several weeks, but from the way her sky blue dress fit her around the waist, she could tell she had lost weight. Hoping that her face did not look too thin, she pinched her cheeks for color.
The invitation to dinner had brought more nervousness than Percy thought reasonable. Why was her stomach so unsettled? Perhaps it was because she wondered if Joshua Wells would also be at dinner. Lacey had not said anything about Josh when she issued the invitation, but Percy knew he lived there and supposed he took his meals there much of the time.
She wore her hair flowing freely around her shoulders. She hardly ever let it hang loose; it was too much in the way of her work. And in the city, where she had grown up, a young woman of twenty-one would be thought childish if she let her hair hang free. But Percy was not in a city and she was in a lumber camp. Her intuition told her that city expectations would not necessarily carry over to this setting. She knew that her jet black hair was her most striking feature, and she wanted to feel pretty tonight. She stroked through her hair one last time, smoothed her skirt, and was ready to leave.
Down the street a few minutes later, she slowly ascended the steps of Lacey’s front porch. It was swept clean, with two bowls of pink petunias brightening the corners. Percy felt welcome, but the swarm of butterflies in her stomach doubled. She rai
sed her hand to knock, but the front door swung open before she could.
“You’re the lady from the street,” announced a child whom Percy presumed to be Adam. She had already met Caleb, and this boy was clearly older.
“And you’re the boy with the sore throat,” Percy retorted playfully.
Adam scowled. “It’s not sore anymore.”
“And I’m not in the street anymore,” Percy said. “Your mother invited me to dinner.”
“We’re having mashed potatoes.”
“Delicious. Mashed potatoes and…?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mashed potatoes and what else? No one eats just mashed potatoes.”
“I do.”
Lacey appeared behind her son. “Adam, let’s invite Miss Morgan inside.”
Adam hesitated a moment, glanced at his mother, and complied. “Please come in, Miss Morgan.” He shuffled to one side and turned to walk away.
“We’re working on manners,” Lacey said softly as she gestured that Percy should enter.
Percy chuckled. “How about coming around the mess hall one evening with your lessons in manners?”
Lacey smiled. “I want to make sure Adam learns his before he gets any ideas about becoming a lumberjack.”
“You don’t like lumberjacks?”
“I married one,” Lacey answered. “It’s not the occupation so much as the setting. Standards do seem to get lax way up here. I was rather hoping that the presence of a pretty, unattached young woman would influence some of the men to be more mindful.”
Reluctant Brides Collection Page 26
