When Love Comes My Way

by Lori Copeland

  “Yes, ma’am. Perfectly clear.”

  “That’s less than two weeks.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know that.”

  “Then you had better get busy.”

  Apparently convinced he fully understood the urgency of the matter, Bernice turned on her heel and marched to the door.

  “The end of the month,” she called over her shoulder. “Not a day longer!” She slammed the door behind her.

  Henry glanced up from sweeping the flour and frowned. “She rattled every jar on my shelves. That woman has a temper, Jake. Even so, if she follows through on her threat, my little Modeen will be without a teacher again.”

  Nodding, Jake knew he had a problem. Bernice would be the eighth teacher to resign in as many months, and it was becoming almost impossible to fill the position. None of the other women in camp were qualified to teach. And even if they were, they wouldn’t want the job.

  “She sounds like she means it this time,” Henry fretted.

  Jake turned to warm his hands at the stove. Generally, few lumberjacks chose to subject their wives or families to the isolation of a logging camp, but Wakefield was a big operation, much larger than most. Along with timber operations to manage, Jake had sixteen households to oversee and nine children to educate.

  If the five boys and four girls behaved like normal kids, it would have made his job considerably easier. They all had good, hardworking parents and were well-mannered children—except in school. He’d never understood why, but they were terrible scamps with the teachers.

  “She’s just upset because young Pud Wilkerson threw a skunk in the schoolroom,” Jake said, wishing that was the only reason the woman was angry.

  André swiped at his nose. “It took her all week to get the stench tapped down.”

  “Serves her right,” Henry said. “She’s too strict on those young’uns.”

  “Strict?” the men chorused.

  “That woman’s as fierce as a grizzly with a toothache.”

  Nate Waltrax chewed on the tip of his cigar and shuffled the cards for another game. “No one can blame her for wanting out. I wouldn’t put up with those kids if it were me.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Nate,” Henry said, wiping his hands on his apron. “My little Modeen—”

  “Is the ringleader, Henry. She swears like a man and bullies anyone who gets in her way. She has a mean streak a mile wide.” Nate bit off the end of his cigar and spat it on the floor.

  “How many times have I warned you about spittin’ on the floor when there’s a spittoon right over there?” Henry complained. “Now, my Modeen isn’t like that at home. She may be a little high-spirited, but she can be controlled.”

  “With a whip and a chair,” André muttered under his breath.

  Sy Melton reached for his wife’s box of supplies and looked directly at Jake. “We’d all better hope Miss Yardley makes it here by month’s end. If Bernice quits before the new teacher gets here, the womenfolk will be real upset.”

  Jake reached up to rub the back of his neck. All this commotion was making him weary. When his hand fell away, his fingers were covered with a fine dusting of white.

  “You have flour on your neck,” André said, snickering.

  Jake didn’t mind his friend’s ribbing. It lightened the mood. “I’m not the only one. You look like a ghost.” He glanced around the room. Everyone was covered with a film of white powder.

  All of these men were his friends, and he hoped that after the sale of Wakefield Timber the camp would survive. He figured the place had about as much of a chance as the white pine had of avoiding Sven Templeton’s crosscut saw, thanks to Tess Wakefield.

  2

  Shadow Pine coming up!”

  Tess snapped her head up when the train conductor sounded the call. Aware that she’d been caught dozing again, she glanced sheepishly at Fedelia Yardley sitting across from her. Fedelia never dozed. In fact, Tess could have sworn that the woman sharing this hideous ride hadn’t shut an eye in the two days since they had left Philadelphia.

  It was chilly in the drafty wooden train car. Tess pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders and studied the other woman. Though pleasant enough, Fedelia had done little to reward Tess’s periodic attempts to draw her into conversation. She seemed content to thumb methodically through textbook after textbook, enduring the tedious journey to the lumber camp with as few distractions as possible.

  The steam locomotive pulled into Shadow Pine, and Tess disembarked and followed the other passengers into the small depot, noting there wasn’t a private carriage waiting—but then, Mr. Lannigan didn’t know the exact date of her arrival. Fedelia walked in front of her.

  “Miss Yardley, do you know how we are supposed to get to Wakefield Timber camp? Surely they would have sent a buggy for the new teacher.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Would you mind asking someone?” Watching the woman walk toward the clerk’s desk, Tess realized there was quite a resemblance between them. Though the train conductor had mentioned the similarity, she’d thought it unlikely at the time.

  Fedelia turned away from the clerk and approached Tess. “They sent a wagon to take me to the camp. It’s waiting outside. You’re welcome to come along.”

  “Wonderful. Thank you.” Tess trailed her out of the building. She found herself liking Fedelia Yardley a bit more.

  Then she paused when she saw the conveyance. “What is that?” She was appalled at the sight of the rickety-looking vehicle the camp manager had sent. Two warped planked seats were worlds removed from the plush padded seats found in Talbot’s open-air carriages.

  The driver grinned. “Haven’t you ever seen a workin’ wagon, miss? No, I suspect not from the looks of you and your sister.”

  Fedelia didn’t give Tess time to answer. “We are not sisters, sir.”

  “No offense intended, ma’am. But you two look an awful lot alike.”

  Tess was certain the wagon ride would be worse than the train—cold, jarring, and most unpleasant. She should have insisted that Mr. Lannigan come to see her in Philadelphia. Then she could have granted him power of attorney in order to make the sale in her absence.

  Sighing, she climbed onto the seat beside the schoolteacher and Walter Fedderson, a man she had met on the train. He said he was seeking work at the camp, but to her he looked too old to climb trees or pull a crosscut saw.

  Waiting for the bags to be loaded, Tess readjusted the folds of her heavy woolen skirt. With more than a touch of pride, she reached up to pat her lovely hat. The ostrich plumes, coils of silk, and rows of fine English lace were fit for a queen—though admittedly it was all a bit out of place in these surroundings.

  Her lovely little hat boutiques were her pride and joy. She sketched her breathtaking creations and then two seamstresses brought her ideas to life. It was all such wonderful fun. And Talbot was so proud of her!

  The wagon hit a rut as soon as it took off, and Tess had to steady her hat as she sat up straighter. She realized then that hairpins had fallen loose from her hair, and wisps of curls fell to her shoulders when she swept off her bonnet. “I’ll be glad to see this trip end,” she confided to Fedelia.

  Tess worked the thick tresses back into a soft cluster atop her head. The entire journey had been miserable, and she longed for a hot bath. She wished once she reached Wakefield Timber that she could go straight to a hotel and soak for hours in steaming perfumed salts before she sat down to a meal of delectable roast beef and a lovely dessert. Visions of a fine crème brûlée danced in her head.

  Fedelia murmured something distractedly and continued to read. Tess studied her and decided her hairstyle made her matronly looking. She really needed do something about it. The dark blond mass was tidy, but it looked too severe pulled back from her face in a tight bun. Tess glanced at her elaborate creation on the warped board seat beside her. What a hat like that could do for a woman. She was certain that one of her designs would indeed work a miraculous transform
ation for Miss Yardley, conceding that Wakefield Timber’s new schoolmarm, though not overly friendly, was pretty in a modest sort of way, but the serviceable brown traveling suit she wore, and the equally uninspired brown hat anchored firmly atop her pragmatic bun, cried dull, dull, and dull. She sighed again. Oh, that dreadful hat, so completely lacking inspiration.

  After about an hour of traveling through an unending forest of tall white pines, Tess had had enough of the silence. “I don’t plan to be in camp long,” she remarked as if Fedelia had inquired—or was even mildly curious about the length of Tess’s stay. The schoolmarm’s eyes remained on the passage she was reading. Tess drew in another long, weary breath. “Not long at all.” Her back ached from the uncomfortable wooden seat.

  Having nothing else to do, she studied the trees. They towered sixty to eighty feet above the ground, and the pine branches grew so thickly that the sunlight never reached the ground. Though her grandfather had lived his entire life in these forests, Tess had not been back since she was a young child.

  She’d often wondered how her mother, such a sophisticated city woman, had fallen in love with a dreadful lumberjack. However, when Clint Wakefield visited Philly on business all those years ago, he’d won her mother’s heart, and she had followed him back to pine country.

  Tess had never asked many questions about the situation because she saw the pain in her mother’s eyes on the rare occasions when she’d mentioned her father. All she really knew was that Father had been killed in a logging accident when she was three and her mother promptly returned to Philadelphia and—in her words—a civilized life.

  Tears welled in Tess’s eyes as she took in the beauty that surrounded her. She could almost understand why her grandfather and father loved the pines so much. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

  Fedelia finally looked up. A misting rain had started to fall. At times, the rain was mingled with sleet. “The weather is anything but lovely.”

  Tess smiled, aware of Fedelia’s lack of enthusiasm for almost everything they had discussed. “You’re right.” She didn’t want her beautiful hat to get wet, but because the wagon had no cover, she had to put it back on. Securing it in place, she asked, “What do you think about the talk on the train that the camp is lawless?”

  “It’s a concern, but I can’t dwell on it. I have a job to do. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Lannigan will see to your safety.” Tess had always been shielded from anything remotely dangerous, but she was excited and couldn’t wait to get there. She’d never witnessed an actual brawl.

  Although Talbot had wanted her to complete the sale of Wakefield Timber as quickly as possible, she had to admit she was secretly starting to like the freedom she’d been enjoying since he had seen her off at the train station. In her twenty years, she had hardly been allowed to go anywhere alone. With the exception of opening her own boutiques, she had never been allowed to make even the smallest business decision for herself.

  Her mother had died when she was eleven, and at that time Talbot had been appointed her guardian until she came to adulthood and her full inheritance at twenty-one. By then Tess was accustomed to him doing everything, didn’t mind being under his thumb, and appreciated what her guardian—now fiancé—had done for her over the last nine years. He was very smart about money, and she loved him, but now she was rather enjoying her newfound independence, and she imagined she would experience a tiny letdown when it came to an end.

  Even so, she smiled when her fiancé came to mind. He was ten years older than she, and after her grandfather had passed and she had inherited his timber business, Talbot had been adamant that she quickly and efficiently dispose of it. He would have come to Michigan with her, but he had previous commitments that could not go unattended. Instead, he had thought to find her an appropriate chaperone, but after hours of pleading she’d finally convinced him she was capable of making the trip by herself.

  Truth be told, at first she’d been a bit frightened, but now she was relishing her little adventure, and it wasn’t over yet. “You’re so lucky.” Another sigh escaped Tess as the wagon clattered noisily down the uneven logging road.

  Fedelia lifted her brows. “Lucky?”

  “Yes,” Tess whispered, taking care not to awaken the men who had boarded the wagon at the last stop. They said they were woodsmen traveling from the East to work.

  Tess found the husky lumberjacks captivating. Fedelia had appeared to be repelled by them as soon as they scrambled aboard, their massive frames dwarfing the older gentleman on the back bench.

  “Why would you say that I’m lucky?” Fedelia asked.

  “Because you have complete control of your life. How intoxicating it must be to have not a single soul tell you where you may go, when you must smile, what you must say.” Tess was thankful to have a man of Talbot’s breeding and social position to look after her every need, yet how nice it would be to make a decision, one completely her own. Of course, she didn’t envy Fedelia’s reason for coming to the camp. Though Tess had been schooled at the most prestigious establishments, she knew she would be ill-suited for teaching young children.

  Her teachers had been candid with her mother when she’d first started school, and her mother didn’t fail to share those thoughts with her young daughter. Tess reflected on what her mother told her many times.

  “Precious, though you are most personable, sadly enough your teachers have told me that my beautiful daughter is not overly gifted with scholarly pursuits.”

  No, she could never be a teacher, and she supposed it didn’t matter whether she was considered brilliant or not. In April she and Talbot would marry, and then her future would be secure.

  Talbot Wellington-Kent. Most women were attracted to his large trust fund, but not her. Tess loved him for the man he was—funny, compassionate, and always protective of her.

  The Wellington-Kent company had built the finest Philadelphia carriages available for more than seventy-five years. She was proud to say it wasn’t Talbot’s money she found attractive. She was wealthy in her own right as Rutherford Wakefield’s only heir. No, it was Talbot himself. She felt comfortable with him. Though he could be a bit stubborn at times, he was dependable, and that was an important trait in a husband. She tended to be flighty—or so she’d been told.

  Still, these few days of glorious freedom had made her start to wonder if she might delay marrying for a while and explore the world. She was lost in those daydreams when Fedelia’s sigh pulled her back to reality.

  Laying her book aside, the schoolmarm shook her head. “I must admit I wish I shared your outlook on my situation.”

  “You don’t feel fortunate?”

  “No. Merely apprehensive. As you said, there is talk that it’s a bit rough in the camp.”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Please don’t let it worry you. It might be just rumor. And I’m sure the children won’t be bad. It’s probably just the men in the camp who are a bit unruly.”

  Seeming to want to change the subject, the young teacher said, “I should think you would want to keep the logging interest your grandfather left you. The timber business is quite lucrative.”

  “I know.” Tess’s smile faded as she looked again at the passing scenery. “Actually, at first I was in favor of keeping the business and letting grandfather’s foreman run it for me.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Talbot…my fiancé…thought it best to liquidate my assets and invest in something more promising. I’ve recently opened a third hat boutique. This is one of my creations.” Tess smiled, lifting the hat from her head and holding it out for Fedelia’s inspection. “Would you like to try it on? I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

  “No, thank you,” the teacher said flatly. “I couldn’t, really.”

  Tess watched the mixture of awe and revulsion in the girl’s eyes and understood that Fedelia was probably not accustomed to such finery. “If I’d brought another with me, I’d be hap
py to give it to you, but since this is the only one—”

  “That’s quite all right,” Fedelia said quickly, then smiling to soften her refusal. “What were you saying earlier? About why you changed your mind about keeping Wakefield Timber?”

  “Oh.” Tess set her hat back on her head. The poor girl might have plenty of book learning, but apparently she knew nothing about current fashion. “My fiancé’s broker says the timber business has been in decline in recent years.”

  “Is your grandfather’s foreman trustworthy?”

  “I think so. Mr. Lannigan and I have corresponded over the past few months, and he seems to know the business. But he has this crazy idea of wanting to replant trees for future generations. Can you imagine?” Her gaze returned to the seemingly endless rows of pine. “I’ve heard it’s estimated that enough timber is here to last for hundreds of years.”

  “Yes, I’ve read the same reports.”

  Tess glanced out at the hillside, where she was beginning to catch an occasional glimpse of fallen pines.

  “But,” the teacher continued, “I have also heard that logs with the slightest blemish are sometimes left lying on the ground to rot.”

  Tess viewed the passing landscape for signs of neglect. “They won’t leave it like this. They’re not finished here yet.”

  Fedelia gave an affirmative nod. “You are probably correct.”

  “I’m sure that sort of thing never happens in my grandfather’s outfit.” Tess watched the countryside grow more barren.

  “One would certainly hope not.”

  Trying to stretch her weary neck muscles, Tess wondered how much farther it would be to the camp. She decided to inquire. “Driver, how much longer?”

  “’Bout a half hour.”

  “My goodness. It’s farther than I thought.” She rubbed the small of her back, sighing softly.

  “You’re to be married soon?” Fedelia asked.

  “Sometime in the spring.” Leaning forward, Tess proudly displayed the ring Talbot had given her. “See?” An envious look came into Fedelia’s eyes as she gazed at the cluster of precious stones.