A crew member walked in. “Morning, ma’am,”
“Good morning,” Emma mumbled, running her hands over her brother’s chest, reassuring herself that he still breathed. She looked up at the man. “Do you know how the accident happened?”
“Stanley and Jake were out on a day that we were supposed to have off,” the man explained. “According to Stanley, Jake cut down a tree and didn’t jump out of the way soon enough. He got caught in the branches.”
The details didn’t matter to Emma. She was just praying that Jake would wake up. A moan escaped from her brother’s bruised lips and drew her attention to the present.
“Jake, it’s me, Emma. Please wake up.” She grasped his strong calloused hand in her own. Relief flooded through her when he slit his eyes open.
“Emma, what happened?” Jake’s hoarse whisper caused her to flinch. He was alive, for now, and that’s what mattered.
“There was an accident. You were hurt, but you’re going to get better now. I’m here, and I’m going to take care of you.” Emma choked back tears as she brushed her fingers through the few wisps of hair not wrapped in bandages. Jake smiled back at her and then, by the time the doctor was summoned, he drifted back to sleep.
The doctor did a thorough examination.
“I think he’s going to be fine, but he’s not out of the woods yet. He needs some time to recuperate and much rest.”
“Thank you.” Emma turned back toward her brother, her mouth dry as she wrung her hands with anxiety.
“I’m going to get some coffee and some breakfast. I’ll check back in an hour or so. You should get some rest yourself, young lady.” The doctor yawned.
Frederick came through the door a few minutes later, and he brought Emma a cup of coffee.
“You look worn out.” He plopped down on a straight chair beside her.
“I am.” She stifled a yawn and took a sip of the warm, invigorating coffee. The aroma alone was comforting, or was that Frederick’s presence?
“You know, if there’s anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask.” The sincere look in Frederick’s eyes made Emma feel more secure, but the future still held many questions she didn’t have answers for.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading off to my room to try and get some rest.” She finished her coffee and stood to leave. She was exhausted and was unsure if her world would ever be the same.
Every evening when Frederick was finished with his shift, he went to visit Emma. For three days she stayed by Jake’s side caring for his every need. Much as he hated to admit it, a part of him longed to be cared for by her with the same concern she showered on her brother. And he desperately wanted to let her know how much she meant to him.
One night on his way to the bunkhouse, he heard voices coming from behind the boss’s office. He slowed down and listened, straining to hear their words.
“Stanley’s been untruthful and negligent in his work, and he’s the one who’s responsible for Jake’s injury.”
“Yeah, but what can we do about it? Who’s going to believe us over the boss’s son?”
Jake recognized the voices—they were two of the newer crew members. He didn’t want to believe what they said. Was the boss aware of Stanley’s guilt? If so, then why wasn’t he doing something about it? These questions haunted Frederick, and he debated whether or not to broach the subject with Emma.
What he needed was some solid proof, but that might be hard to come by. Then he could approach the boss, and then the boss could break the news to Emma. But how would Emma react when she knew her brother had almost lost his life and his livelihood because of negligence on someone else’s part? It would infuriate her. Frederick sure didn’t want to see her get so upset that she did something rash and lost her job. And what would happen if she thought he went behind her back?
“Lord, give me wisdom in knowing how to handle this,” Frederick prayed.
If he knew exactly how the accident had happened, he’d have a better idea about how to proceed. The crew boss, Mr. Wilkin, would have the best guess as to what happened out there that day. Without wasting more time, he decided to speak with the man and see if he could find out a thing or two. This teetered on gossip, but the boss needed to know the truth, considering what was at stake—the lives of the crew.
On the fourth night after Jake’s accident the full moon cast a romantic light over the quiet and still earth. The stars shimmered in the heavens and the crickets chirped in blissful-sounding harmony. Emma began to believe her brother would live— probably with a limp in his leg for the rest of his life—but at least he would live. Mrs. Wilkin’s sister had come out from town to help for a week or so, and they seemed to be doing fine without Emma’s help.
Frederick brought dinner to the bunkhouse for Emma and Jake and asked if she wanted to go for a walk afterwards. She agreed. With a sparkle in his deep blue eyes, he took her by the hand and led her down to the creek.
Emma chuckled at Bacon, who trotted alongside her on their late-night stroll. Frederick talked of his day at work, but Emma, so enthralled at being by his side, her hand clutching his strong arm, hardly noticed what he said.
Frederick paused to run his strong hands through her long dark hair and laid a tender kiss on her eager lips. Emma responded by leaning into the kiss, as if to absorb some of his strength.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday and we usually have the afternoon off. Let me take you into town and get you away from this for a while,” Frederick said between kisses to her forehead. Emma sighed. She didn’t want to leave her brother until he was at least able to get up and about.
“As long as I know Jake will be taken care of.” Jake had been through so much, and if she left him and something terrible happened again, she’d never forgive herself.
“I’ll ask Mrs. Wilkin to keep an eye on him,” Frederick suggested.
Emma saw hope in his eyes, so she conceded.
The next afternoon she rode into town on Inferno with Frederick at her side. He didn’t seem to go all that fast, and she wondered why everyone made such a fuss over what a reckless driver he was. Then it occurred to her he was probably being extra cautious with her along.
When they got into town, she held his arm as they strolled in front of the shops. He escorted her down the road that led to his father’s house. Much larger than the one in Toledo, it gave off an aura of grand elegance, with a porch swing and tall white columns.
“It really is lovely,” Emma said, leaning against his strong shoulder, wishing she could do more for him. For a short minute, she understood how her mother must have felt at times. She was learning to praise God even in the face of imminent hardship.
“I made some extra money selling a share of the land, and along with my savings we made a large payment to the bank. If Pa takes in boarders for about a year, he can pay off the house, and the bank will hand him the deed.”
Emma couldn’t help but notice how much straighter he stood, obviously proud of himself. “It’s not as grand as the Whitworth mansion, but it’s Pa’s home.”
“I heard there’s a party at one of the hotels in town right after Thanksgiving to celebrate Elisha Ferry being sworn in as governor,” Emma said, to change the subject.
“I’d like very much to escort you to it,” Frederick said.
“I’d love to, if it’s okay with Jake.” Emma’s hand rested in the crook of his arm, and he patted her hand with his. The gesture brought comfort to her.
On their way back into town, they stopped in at the post office. There was a letter for Jake and Emma from a man they had lost contact with for more than a year.
“It’s from Uncle Irving!” Emma exclaimed, clapping her hands. She’d assumed the old man had died, and she was delighted to know he still lived. “I can’t wait to tell Jake when we get back to camp. He’s going to be thrilled.”
“I take it Jake and this man were very close.” Frederick smiled down at her.
“Oh, they were, and once Jake speaks with Uncle Irving, maybe he’ll invite us to live with him in Chicago.” Emma dreamed of getting away from the dirty camp. This would be a perfect opportunity.
Frederick’s expression indicated he was less than pleased and she understood why. They had begun an earnest courtship, but was she falling in love with him? She didn’t know for sure. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen now.
Frederick stormed across the lumberyard the next day, full of gruffness.
“What’s wrong?” E.V. asked, his eyebrows raised in question.
“After all this time of guarding my heart, I think I’m falling in love.” Frederick scratched his chin with the back of his hand. Knowing E.V. understood, Frederick explained the new developments in Emma’s life.
E.V. placed a hand on Frederick’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “If you really love her, you’ll want what’s best for her.”
“I do,” Frederick groaned. “That’s why I know I’m going to lose her.”
“Just keep praying about it.”
“I will,” Frederick replied before his friend walked back to the sawmill office.
When the load of lumber was stacked and ready for the saw, Frederick boarded Inferno and steamed back to the landing for another load of timber. The entire time, he talked to the Lord, asking for direction and guidance. Soon he felt God’s peace and he began to relax.
That didn’t last long however, as he pulled into the loggers’s landing to find it in utter chaos. Had someone gotten hurt again or was something else terribly wrong? Was Stanley to blame this time as well?
Chapter 9
Emma bolted from the bunkhouse with anxiety and heartbreak making chase behind her. Their uncle from Chicago had offered Jake a well-paying job, and it didn’t matter if he walked with a limp. He’d offered to provide Emma with employment, too.
But Jake wanted to leave her behind. If Jake thought he could run off to Chicago while she stayed behind in this God-forsaken mudhole, he was sadly mistaken! He knew her worst fear was being all alone in the world. After walking off her temper, she returned to the bunkhouse to present her case to him.
At last, after some heated discussion and much pleading on Emma’s part, Jake agreed to take her with him as soon as his leg mended enough for him to travel. She blew her breath out in a tired sigh and tramped to the kitchen to help Mrs. Wilkin peel a mountain of potatoes for dinner that night. Now if only she could find a way to tell Frederick she was leaving.
Bacon grunted and lay down in his usual corner.
“Emma, is everything all right?” Frederick asked, mopping his forehead with his customary red bandana.
She hadn’t seen him approach.
“Yes, everything is fine,” she said. Later she’d ask God to forgive her for leaving this wonderful man who had done nothing but show her kindness.
“I have something I need to speak with you about.” The serious expression clouding his features caused the hair on her skin to tingle. A niggling intuition told her it had something to do with her brother’s accident. She knew Frederick wasn’t entirely convinced they knew what had happened out in the woods that day.
“I spoke with Mr. Wilkin, the crew boss, the other day. He examined the logging equipment after Jake’s accident. He believes it wasn’t an accident. He thinks Stanley neglected to set the safety, and that’s what caused that tree to roll over your brother.”
Emma clenched her teeth to keep from screaming aloud. How could someone be so careless when working with such dangerous equipment? Wasn’t it dangerous enough just to be a logger? “I see,” she managed to mutter with her jaw set. “Just what do you intend to do with this information?”
“I’m going to the boss first thing tomorrow morning. He needs to send that kid packing before somebody else on this crew gets hurt or killed.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“I’ve got Mr. Wilkin’s opinion. That’s as good as any evidence you’ll find.” Frederick’s face flushed deep red as the fire in his eyes burned with obvious indignation.
By Frederick’s demeanor, Emma guessed he wanted to tear Stanley limb from limb, and for a brief moment she felt sorry for the young greenhorn. “Well, I do hope you’re able to get through to Mr. Kenicky. Please let me know how it goes.”
“I’ll sure do that.” Frederick stuffed his bandana in his back pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with the rest of the crew and get their opinion on how Stanley’s holding up out there.”
Emma went back to peeling the potatoes. Even though she was numb from the news, she still managed to finish the job. She dumped a bucket of slops onto a plate for Bacon and gathered firewood for the bunkhouse. Frederick’s words churned in her head like rushing river water around a sharp and rocky bend.
The boss had to understand what a danger his son posed in the woods. But how would he react once he understood that fact? Worse yet, what if he didn’t believe the crew boss? He would more than likely keep his son on the crew. Would Stanley go after Jake again, and with a vengeance?
Remembering how Stanley treated her with such disrespect, Emma shuddered at the prospect. The sooner she and Jake got out of there, the better.
“But sir!” Frederick growled and clenched his fists at his sides. “Have you even heard a word we’ve been saying?” He wanted to toss his boss down the side of a steep slope at his obvious obtuseness, followed by Stanley, who stood off to the side with a smug expression plastered on his face.
“I said that’s enough.” Mr. Kenicky slammed his hands on his makeshift desk and rose to his full height from his chair. “Don’t you two have things to do? Get out of here and get back to work.”
“And wait until the next man gets killed?” Frederick glared at his boss, loathing coating his words.
“Now see here!” Stanley took a menacing step forward.
“Let’s go, Fred.” Mr. Wilkin grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him out of the office. It was a good thing, or he probably wouldn’t have a job by sunset.
“Come, Fred, let’s get back to work. We’ve got a large clearing of trees to cut down and get to the mill today. We need all the hands we’ve got.” Mr. Wilkin turned Frederick around and aimed him toward Inferno.
“That fool needs to wake up and learn how to run a logging business!” Frederick struggled to control his frustration. The last thing he wanted was to bury another crewmate. “And that kid needs to find a job where his negligence won’t get somebody hurt, if that’s even possible.”
“I’ll keep an eye on the kid. With any luck he’ll learn a few things, and we can avoid another tragedy.”
“Thanks.” Frederick paced the ground in front of the bunkhouse as the crew was getting ready to head out for the day. The men filed past him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d all come back in one piece at dinnertime.
“I’ll talk to you tonight.” Frederick waved at Mr. Wilkin and headed for Inferno. He had to cool his head, or he’d lose focus and risk his own hide. One thing was certain, he’d be praying for the crew and his friend. But would that be enough?
Emma threw herself into her brother’s arms two days later with gratitude seeping from her heart. He had announced to her that he felt they could leave for Chicago very soon. She couldn’t wait to get away from the camp and all the drudgery that went with it.
“But it breaks my heart to leave Frederick.” Emma bit her lip.
“Bear in mind, sister dear”—Jake interrupted her thoughts—“there are many men in the city who will be vying for your hand.”
“Oh no, I’m going to get a job and learn how to care for myself.”
“Well, I’m not going to allow you to live by yourself, not in the city,” Jake said with enough force to knock over a tall pine tree.
“Of course not, but I can earn my own money, and not be such a burden to you. Maybe get a little something nice to wear—nothing too fancy of course.”
“Always pr
etty things. I can see you haven’t learned much during these long hard months,” Jake teased.
“Let me go check and see how Mrs. Wilkin is coming along with dinner. I’ll be back later to check on you and bring you a plate.” Emma stood and hurried from the room before her brother could object.
Even if Frederick was filthy rich and able to provide luxuries, she was still afraid to give her whole life to a man. It was hard enough to give him a piece of her heart.
“Lord, I’m afraid,” she prayed as she walked. Guilt wiggled in her middle. She really should tell him that she was leaving soon.
But she wanted to attend the party at the hotel after the governor was sworn in. Who wouldn’t want to witness such a historic moment? A part of her didn’t want to be put down anymore. She wanted to wear pretty things and silence Abigail’s jeering tongue. Was it such a sin to defend oneself against such cruelty? More tangled thoughts wound through Emma’s head as she trudged toward the kitchen. Just a few weeks left to cook for the rough men in camp.
She walked into a stifling hot kitchen filled with chaos and in the usual uproar. Mrs. Wilkin stirred some corn and potato chowder with a vengeance, a kettle of water threatened to boil over, and Bacon squealed in the corner, his plate empty. Mrs. Wilkin’s sister must have gone back to her own house.
Stifling a groan, Emma pulled the pot of water off the cookstove and dumped a bowl of slops onto Bacon’s dish. His hearty grunts communicated gratitude. Rubbing his soft head, Emma thought of Frederick. Bacon had been a gift from Frederick after all.
Granted, he had kissed her and expressed admiration and a desire to court her. So how could she convince herself that he wouldn’t care if she left? How could she put off telling him? She knew he’d be angry, and she cringed in terror at the thought of an angry man who might throw things in his rage.
Besides, ladies of better means were best suited for a man like Frederick, and he’d come to realize that, in time. He wouldn’t miss her for very long.
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