Lydia sunk her arm into the crook of Hannah’s and squeezed.
“Isn’t this exciting?”
Hannah glanced over the competitors. Cole, Ethan, and Raine were accompanied by John Turner, Hurley Devlin, Eustice, three of the Peterson boys, Grace’s brother, Jack, Jonah and Eli. One seat sat empty. She looked around for Brant, but he wasn’t there and she realized that she hadn’t seen her friend or her husband all day, which was odd for them not to be there. It was Maeve’s favorite event of the year.
“Lydia, have you seen Maeve anywhere?” She glanced over at the table with the pies that had been entered and did not see one for her friend. She’d been quite busy at the ranch over the last couple of weeks, and while it hadn’t seemed strange to not have seen her in that same length of time, it was definitely strange that she wasn’t here now.
“I haven’t seen her all day,” Lydia said with a quick shake of her head. “Shouldn’t she be here by now? I thought she wanted to enter her new crumbled-crusted cobbler.”
“Yes, she should most definitely be here by now.” Hannah made a mental note to talk to Raine. Maybe he could send someone out to their little farm to check on them. Maybe they’d had a problem with their wagon, or the horses. Maybe they’d stopped somewhere and lost track of time. Or, just maybe her cobbler hadn’t turned out as expected and she was too embarrassed to come.
Hannah Redbourne, stop with the ‘maybes,’ she chided. I’m sure everything is fine. But she couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that something was terribly off.
The Stillwells had been hit as hard as any when the locusts devoured Brant’s new crop. Luckily, they’d had canned goods and other food stuff reserves that had been protected from the bugs to get them through until the epidemic moved southward. Hannah felt for those in the western part of the state who’d seen the insects lay waste to their crops, their fields, and their livelihoods. She’d even heard that many of them had turned to eating fried grasshoppers to keep from starving.
She shuttered at the thought.
“Think, Lydia, when was the last time you saw Maeve? Or Brant?”
“Oh, I don’t know. She wasn’t at church on Sunday, so maybe a week or ten days.”
It was at least the same for Hannah and suddenly she felt like a bad friend for not having checked on her before now.
DING!
The men dug into their pies and before long, they were all a mess, a shamble of pie filling and crust smooshed into their faces, protruding out of their noses, and one even managed to get it in his hair. Hannah’s heart lifted as she watched the light-hearted fun taking place around her. She dared a few glances at Eli, who looked bent on winning this contest, and, to her surprise, was doing it more cleanly than any of the rest.
He stood up, his hands raised in the air.
DING!
Several heaved sighs sounded from the rest of the men and Cole shook his head, pie crumbles and sauce spilling from his mouth and Jack looked like someone had just punched him in the gut.
“I don’t feel so well,” he said, holding his tummy.
Hannah giggled at the sight of them all and wished she had a way to capture the moment. She glanced over at Eli, who winked at her, then raised a brow.
“It seems Mr. Whittaker is aiming to win today.”
Eli caught her eye and nodded.
“I have to admit,” Eustice said as he approached, wiping the remains of his pie from his face with an oversized gingham napkin, “this town really knows how to have some fun. We had a few small festivals back home, but they didn’t compare with this.”
If he thinks this is something, he should see Thanksgiving at Redbourne Ranch.
Leah Redbourne always outdid herself to make the holidays special for her family.
“There are still several events to come,” John informed him. “Log-rolling, the three-legged race, ax throwing. I think a lot of the events this year were sponsored by Grisham Wendell. Word has it he’s moving back East and is trying to sell the mill. A few potential buyers were invited and that is one of the reasons there are so many lumberjacking events this year.”
“I wondered why there were so many unfamiliar faces in town,” Lydia said, then leaned over and whispered in Hannah’s ear. “Not that I am complaining, mind you.”
“Is that why that Whittaker fella is here?” Eustice asked Hannah.
“He sure looks like a lumberjack,” John followed up.
“Well, yes, Mr. Whittaker has worked the lumber yards in Oregon for years, but…”
It did seem odd that Eli would accompany Jonah on a drive. It wasn’t exactly the kind of work that he usually did and it made her wonder.
“I knew it!” Eustice stated emphatically. “How do any of us have a chance against a professional?”
“I don’t think they have professional pie eaters, Mr. Hollings.” Hannah smiled in jest.
“Well…” It looks as if he was searching for something witty to say. “Of course, they don’t, but—”
“The way a man responds to winning or losing says a lot about him, don’t you think, Lydia?”
“Why, yes, Hannah, I believe so.”
She didn’t mean to challenge or decry him, but she did want him to stop to consider the way he reacted to...well, losing as it were today. She found herself growing tired of his company. It was good for her to see the things in a suitor she didn’t like as well as the things she did, in order to help her make an informed decision when it came to marriage. Eustice seemed like a nice enough man, but after today, she knew he wasn’t the right man for her.
“I thought we were here to have fun,” Hannah said, changing the subject. “I believe the potato sack race is next.” She grabbed Eustice’s hand and dragged him to the slight hill where the next event was to take place.
Each of them grabbed a large burlap bag and headed for the starting line. It didn’t take long for half the hillside to be filled with those who wanted to participate. Adults and children alike climbed inside of their sacks and waited for the starting gun to sound.
Hannah glanced around again looking for Maeve, but her friend still had not arrived. She noticed a small group of unkempt children at the far end of the hill, each with their respective bags curled up about their waists and couldn’t help but notice the smiles that adorned their dirty little faces. Their clothes looked as if they’d just stepped off the train from New York as they wore knickers, short jackets, and the dresses were mostly a dirty white color with few frills—nothing like the fashion out West.
She’d seen them in town earlier in the week and Mrs. Day had informed her that they belonged to part of an orphan train and were traveling through the different towns along the Kansas-Missouri border looking for families to take them in.
Hannah couldn’t imagine what it was like for them to be passed around from family to family looking for folks who would love and care for them, and an idea started forming in her head.
BANG!
Hannah hopped nearly halfway down the hill before the momentum caught up with her and she tumbled to the ground. Again. She sat up in the sack, lifted her arms in the air and dropped them in glorious defeat. She laughed as she glanced across the way to see many of the others at different stages of the hill downed for one reason or another, but toward the bottom of the hill were still a handful of people upright and moving forward. Lydia was several yards behind the others, presumably because her legs were half the height, but she was still in the race as were two of the small orphan children.
At the front were five men jumping neck and neck with one another. Eli and Eustice raced next to each other with Greg Peterson, Jack, Hurley, and Raine on the opposite side of the hill.
Eustice made a huge leap and jumped sideways, the corner of his sack protruding enough that Eli could not avoid his feet and stumbled to the earth in two sideways somersaults before coming to a stop.
That little weasel. Hannah had hoped to at least have found a friend in Eustice, but she had no room in
her life for cheaters and poor sports.
A moment later, the man tripped over a lump of grass and landed face first in a puddle of mud.
She nodded firmly, unable to stop the satisfied grin that spread across her features.
Serves him right.
As she pulled herself to her feet, she winced as she bumped her leg. She looked down to see a big, blueish mark glaring back at her from where she’d apparently gotten a bruise from one of her falls today.
“What does that make? Three today?” Cole reached out and took the sack from her and joined it with his to return to one of the baskets at the top of the hill.
“Who’s counting?” she retorted with a laugh.
BANG!
The race was finished. They both looked down at the bottom of the hill to where Raine hopped a few steps beyond the finish line, falling down wrapped in the winner’s ribbon.
“That’s Redbourne stock, right there,” Cole said.
“Pride comes before the fall, big brother,” Hannah playfully cautioned.
“Oh, I know, but both Greg Peterson and Jack Nolan have a decade on him, yet Raine whooped them. What does that tell ya?”
“That Raine’s good at everything.” Which was true.
They laughed together.
Her eldest brother had definitely been through more than any of the other Redbourne siblings, but yet he always seemed to land on his feet—and with optimism.
She recalled the darkness that had surrounded him when his wife, Sarah, died. It had been hard on him, but during that time he busied himself with other things. Usually, those things were helping other people. He’d said that one surefire way to forget about his own problems was to help someone else with theirs. It had taken time, but eventually, he’d gotten back the gleam in his eyes.
Lydia joined them, no worse for the wear and laughing.
“May I take your sack, ma’am?” Cole asked, turning on the charm.
Hannah rolled her eyes again. As if he didn’t already have the new girl, MaryBeth Hutchinson, and the Dawson twins looking to gain his attentions, he wanted more.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she said with a giggle.
Cole took it from her and headed up the hill.
“Your brothers are so dreamy. If I didn’t already have my sights set on John Turner, I would have a real problem trying to choose between them.
She ignored her friend as she’d already heard it a hundred times before from the majority of women in Stone Creek. Hannah’s eyes were drawn to the side of the hill where Raine and Eli climbed, deep in conversation with the two little orphan boys trailing them. When a huge grin broke out on Eli’s face and his head tossed backward with a laugh, her insides filled with a light, cool sensation that sent gooseflesh down the length of her arms.
After a moment, they stopped and waited for the children, then, each of the men picked up one of the boys—both dressed in faded white shirts and knickers—and tossed them onto their shoulders as they trudged up the rest of the hill.
Why did he have to get along so well with her brothers and why, in heaven’s name, did he have to be so handsome?
Chapter 6
“I just haven’t found the right way to tell my father. He’s an impossible man, you know.” Eli had always felt like he lived in his father’s shadow. Angus, his brother, had wanted to run the company, but Isaiah Whittaker had wanted to hear nothing of it. The reins were to be passed down to the eldest boy and that was Eli.
“Living at the lumber camps has to take a toll,” Raine offered as they made their way back up to the top of the hill.
“Especially, when everywhere you turn there are loose women, booze, and men who’ve never learned the meaning of decency.” Eli took off his hat. “Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of good men that work for my father, but I look at Jonah and what he has with Emma and the boys, and can’t help but want something like that for myself. The lumber camps are not the place to find a woman or raise a family. Believe me, I know first-hand.”
“Have you thought about Tag’s offer?” Raine asked. “Running your own mill in a smaller town could offer you some of what you’re looking for.”
Taggert Redbourne had invited him down to Oak Meadow Ranch with the intriguing proposition. Admittedly, the constant heat of Texas was not where Eli wanted to be, but seeing Tag with his bride and little boy had given him reason to consider the offer.
“It’s definitely something to think about.”
“I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I’m sure you’ve noticed the amount of lumberjacking events that are taking place at the jubilee this year.”
“I did think it odd for an area lacking in the sheer amounts of forested lands to be so focused on lumber yard activities.”
“Well, that is because Mr. Wendell, who owns the Stone Creek sawmill, volunteered to host it on his property this year. Word has it that he is looking to sell and is trying to get as much attention to it as possible. He has invited several potential buyers and lumbermen to the festivities.”
“That would explain it.”
“It’s a small mill with a shop onsite that would serve as a great place to use a more...creative approach to lumber.”
Eli looked over at Raine with a crinkled brow. He loved working with wood and had dreamed of being able to open a shop where he could sell the things he made, but Isaiah Whittaker hadn’t wanted to hear of it. He believed that a man was only as good as the money he earned.
Selling lumber had been very profitable for his family and the idea of doing anything else was a simple disappointment. As much as he and his father disagreed about how to do business, he didn’t know if he ultimately wanted to let the man down. He was, after all, his father. And though they weren’t the kind to say so, they loved each other—in their own way.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“A set of your rocking chairs adorn the front porch at Redbourne Ranch.”
“The black walnut chairs that Noah bought?” He’d known they were a gift, but had had no idea they were being shipped all the way to Kansas.
“Those are the ones. The craftsmanship is beautiful. You can see how much care and precision goes into each piece.”
It was like Raine was tapping into secrets he didn’t even know he had. Carpentry had always intrigued him—building something up out of the destruction his father’s business always brought about gave him a sense of satisfaction that nothing else could. Not just cutting and trimming the wood, but building with the wood. He loved the notion of building homes, of building and creating functional pieces that brought life back to the wood.
“Tag’s a woodworker too—though his pieces are generally done on a smaller scale. It’s no surprise to me that he wants someone to start a mill down there, but we do have something here that Texas never will.”
He’d seen some of what Tag could do with wood and had been quite impressed.
“And, what’s that?”
“Hannah,” Raine said with a clap on his shoulder.
“Come on, looks like everyone is gathered up at the pond for the log-rolling event. We’d better get a move on if we want to participate.”
When they reached the small pond, Eli noted that the town had built two small docks on either side of the water and a giant log sat lengthwise between them. Men were lined up on each side, ready to take their turn on the floating wood.
Over the years, Eli couldn’t begin to count how many times he had log-rolled with the lumberjacks with whom he worked. The rush of feelings that had flooded him as he learned to master control of the log beneath his feet was renewed every time he stepped back on another.
He’d been away from home long enough that he was looking forward to the event. It had been too long since he’d done something to get his blood pumping.
“Let do this.”
“Thank you for escorting me to the jubilee festivities today, Mr. Hollings. It was a very…eventful day.”
Literally.
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Hannah opened the front door and took a step inside. She had wanted to stop off at the Stillwater home to check on Maeve, but she was ready to be away from her escort.
“Will I see you at the dance tonight?” Eustice blurted, reaching out to stop the door from closing.
“Yes, I will be there,” she answered, though reluctantly.
“Will you save me a dance?”
It took a moment for Hannah to answer.
“Yes, but Mr. Hollings, I have a few concerns.” It was better to just get it out now than to let him think that there could be anything between them. She just didn’t feel that way about him—especially after what she’d witnessed.
“Oh? Concerns about what exactly?”
“Forgive me, but do you not see anything wrong with…”
How can I put it delicately?
“…with what happened today?” she asked. Along with being worried about her friend, she’d found she hadn’t had much to say to the man on the ride home.
“You mean, because you fell? Don’t worry about that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Other than a few spots on the suit, there was no harm done.”
“No.” She laughed incredulously. “Truth is, I fell at least three times today.”
He looked at her with wide eyes, a shrug, and a shake of his head, apparently oblivious to his ill-mannered behaviors.
“I appreciate that you accompanied me today, I do, and I am sure that you are a lovely man, but I just don’t think we’re a suitable match.”
“Is this about the Whittaker fella proclaiming his affection and proposing to you this afternoon?”
Hannah stared at him, a little stunned by his question.
“I assure you, Mr. Hollings, that Eli Whittaker did not propose to me. He is a…was a friend from a long time ago and he…well, didn’t you hear him? Our timing is bad.”
Why am I defending myself to him?
“I just think that you and I, we’re a little too…different to make anything more than friendship work between us.”
“Then, you must be upset because I took Lydia in the wheelbarrow race instead of you.”
The Lumberjack Page 6