A flash of color caught her eye. Toward the center of the table stood a bowl of oranges. Her oranges, of course, all the way from Mr. Langley’s greengrocer in San Francisco.
She exclaimed with delight. “Oh, look at that lovely fruit.” Rounding her eyes, she turned an innocent look on Big Dog. “Do you think I might have one?”
Men fell over themselves rushing toward the table. A moment later she found the entire bowl thrust into her hands.
“The other ladies might like them too,” Big Dog said.
“Oh, I’m sure they will, Mr. Carter. Thank you for being so thoughtful.” She gave him her widest smile before following Noah out of the building.
She found him standing off to one side, scowling, with his arms folded across his chest. “I will not stand by and watch you toy with those men for your own amusement.”
Outrage warred with the tiniest stab of guilt in her. She had been putting her best foot forward, fully aware that the men would be charmed with a feminine presence. Yet how dare he accuse her of toying with them? “I am not toying with anyone.” Her whisper rasped in her throat.
“Of course you are.” Assuming a simpering smile, he batted his eyelashes and he clasped his hands together beneath his chin. “Oh, look at those lovely oranges!”
His high falsetto rubbed on her nerves like gravel. Under no circumstances would she ever simper like that.
“My oranges!”
“They were on my table.”
She felt like she could spit. “You are the most annoying man I have ever met.”
“And you…” A struggle twisted his features, and then he snapped his mouth shut. When he spoke, it was in a controlled tone. “I must request once again that you and the other ladies make an effort not to distract the men from their work.”
“May I remind you that I too have work to do? Can we not do both at the same time?” The rim of the bowl pressed into her stomach, but she managed to keep her voice low. “It is not my intention to distract anyone from anything, and the other women have done nothing but comply with your directions.” As far as she knew they were still sound asleep in the tent.
He shook his head. “Oh, you’re a distraction all right.”
Torn between determination to make him see her point and pleasure at the compliment, she said nothing. A moment later she was saved from replying when Arthur Denny strode into the clearing. Catching sight of them, he covered the distance and fixed her with a wide smile.
“Miss Lawrence, I have good news. My wife and sister-in-law are delighted to have you and the other ladies stay with them. They both say they’ve missed the opportunity to talk with women, and they look forward to having you for as long as is needed.” He rubbed his hands together, obviously well pleased with the arrangement. “Noah will escort you to the cabin this morning.”
Evie hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Making demands to Noah was one thing, but Arthur’s stern countenance did not invite discussion.
“But my things, my supplies—”
He dismissed her concern with a shake of his head. “Your personal belongings can go with you, of course. As for the rest, Noah will make sure they are stored and secured to your satisfaction.”
The issue thus resolved he started to turn away.
Evie stepped hastily in front of him. “Mr. Denny, I would like to talk with you about my restaurant.”
“I’ve spoken at length with Mr. Coffinger, who is, I believe, your partner?”
She nodded, though reluctantly.
“He knows my thoughts on the matter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to give the men their orders for the day.” He stepped around her and disappeared before she had a chance to stop him again.
Evie turned to find Noah scowling after him. Apparently he wasn’t any happier about being her escort than she was to have him. If they think I will meekly be scuttled out of sight like a bothersome child, they are in for a surprise, she thought to herself.
First, though, she needed to know what Miles discussed with Arthur. Then she could make plans from there.
“Where is your uncle?”
Noah shrugged. “Still asleep, would be my guess.”
“When he wakes, would you tell him I’d like to speak with him?”
At his nod, Evie gathered her skirts in one hand and, carrying her bowl of oranges, marched across the muddy clearing to wake the others. They had a busy day ahead of them.
Evie, Sarah, Lucy, and Ethel perched on one of the rickety benches in the otherwise empty cookhouse in front of plates of flapjacks and fried apples. Gone were the astounding quantities of food she had seen piled on the tables an hour past, devoured by men whose appetites surpassed anything she had imagined. When asked, Cookee haughtily informed her that men needed real food, and lots of it, if they were to have energy to do the hard work of a lumberjack. Her lists concerning quantities and serving sizes would need to be revised before she opened the doors of her business. The white linens carefully pressed and stored were definitely out, as were the lovely glass vases intended for a single flower.
Though Miles had no plans to pick up an ax, he sat on the other side of the table with a plate as full as that of any of the lumberjacks she’d seen earlier.
Evie eyed the huge bite of molasses-soaked flapjack that he was preparing to place in his mouth. “If you continue to eat this way, you’ll end up paying me to let out the seams of your trousers.”
The fork paused in front of his mouth. “You would charge your partner? My dear, how mercenary of you.” The food disappeared behind smiling lips.
“Business is business, and money is money. As you know, I have a loan to repay.”
Still, she couldn’t stop an answering smile. Though Miles had misled her and misused her name without her knowledge, it was impossible to stay angry with someone whose enthusiasm shone in his countenance. He had entered the cookhouse this morning humming, his spirits contagiously high.
“I understand you’ve spoken with Mr. Denny concerning the restaurant.” She took a cautious sip from the tin mug. The coffee’s bitterness was beginning to grow on her, especially when, halfway through the first cup, her mind fairly buzzed with an energy she’d never experienced from tea. “Did you discuss a likely location?”
“We didn’t get so far as that, though he did outline his plans for the new town. If this next lumber sale goes through, they hope to attract investors for building a mill. Of course that will be located near the river’s head—perhaps a more ideal place for our restaurant?”
She conjured an image of the bay, though the rain had been falling so hard and her nerves had been so jangled, she hadn’t gotten a clear look at anything. “Near where the Commodore is docked now?”
Nodding, he washed down a mouthful of bacon with coffee. “Precisely. Naturally the town will spread outward from the mill.”
Ethel pushed her empty plate away. “So that mud hole we had to tromp through will become the town center?” A scowl curled her nose. “I don’t think much of that plan.”
Actually, Evie agreed with her. The ideal location would be near enough to the bay to take advantage of the view, but far enough inland to provide protection from the elements during storms and heavy rains, such as yesterday’s. There must be a suitable location nearby.
“Did you express to Mr. Denny the urgency of our situation?” She set her coffee down and planted her forearms on the splintery surface. “He seemed eager to avoid the subject when I saw him this morning.”
“The topic did arise.” He speared an apple with his fork. “You see, everything rests on the Dennys’ ability to meet this next shipment of logs. Until that happens, the future of this settlement is uncertain.”
Evie’s lips pressed together. The same tale Noah was so fond of repeating. “I cannot understand why these men will not see reason. I’ve no doubt lumber will be an important part of the town’s future, but lumber alone will not do it. The sooner a variety of commerce is established, the stronger the settle
ment’s chances of survival.” She leaned forward and caught him with a direct stare. “You must make them see the logic in that, Miles.”
“Not to worry, my dear. The time will not be wasted.” Renewed enthusiasm shone in his eyes. “This territory is brimming with opportunities. Why, do you know what Captain Johnson is doing today? He is buying salmon from the Indians.”
He flashed a wide grin on all the ladies, obviously pleased with his revelation, though Evie couldn’t imagine what a ship’s captain trading with natives had to do with her restaurant. Was he saying she should purchase salmon from the Indians and cook it for her customers?
Before she could reply, Lucy voiced a question. “Is that allowed?”
“Of course. The local natives are quite willing to barter. Salmon is highly prized in California, and available in abundance here. They say the fish practically leap out of the stream and into the nets. The problem, of course, is transporting it quickly enough that it doesn’t spoil.”
Ethel shook her head slowly. “I don’t see what this has to do with us.”
“Why, my dear, if the salmon are so easy to catch, why can we not do it ourselves?”
While he beamed at a bemused Lucy and Sarah, Evie exchanged an uneasy look with Ethel. He wanted them to stand in an icy stream and catch leaping fish?
“Don’t you see?” He gripped the edge of the table. “We can preserve the salmon in a brine solution and pack it in barrels. If we spend the next month working industriously, we can have several hundred barrels ready for the Commodore’s return.” Folding his arms across his chest, he settled back on the bench. “We will make a fortune.”
“Look here.” Sarah’s features formed a scowl. “None of this is getting us what we signed up for. Miss Evangeline says this boss wants to tuck us out of sight in a cabin some ways from here. If we do that, how are we ever going to snag a husband?”
With a frown fixed on Miles, her sister nodded agreement.
Miles reached across the table and covered Sarah’s hand. “Have no fear on that account. We mustn’t appear uncooperative, after all. But did you see the enthusiasm with which the men welcomed you yesterday? Why, by the end of the summer you’ll have your pick of husbands.” With a paternalistic pat on her hand, he straightened. “And then Miss Evangeline and I will have to find more ladies to help in our restaurant while you’re off raising babies to fill your new homes.”
The glowing expectation seemed to appease them, at least for the moment. Lucy picked up an orange and began peeling it, a dreamy smile on her lips.
Uncooperative? Evie tapped the dirt floor with an impatient foot. Arthur Denny and Noah were the uncooperative ones. It appeared they’d lured Miles into their way of thinking as well. Apparently they were so set on their own goals that they failed to see reason, even when it was laid out plainly before them. Well, so be it. Let them follow their own plan. She intended to do the same, with or without their help.
Evie maintained a stubborn silence during the fifteen-minute walk to the Denny cabin. Noah took the lead, trading isolated words with one of the Indian braves who seemed to accompany them wherever they went. He held the mule’s lead rope loosely in his hand. She felt sorry for the poor creature, laden as he was with four trunks and as many bundles as they could attach to his back. Riding high atop the rest was a crate of chickens who, judging by their protests at the jostling pace, wouldn’t lay for weeks to come. The mule didn’t seem overly burdened and plodded obediently behind Noah like a trained puppy.
The path, if it could be called that, wound through the dense forest in such a jagged line that she nearly lost her sense of direction. Though she took care to search for landmarks, there were few to be noted in the never-ending stretch of immense trees. At least the sun did shine overhead, though so many branches lay between the sky and the ground that the shade was at times nearly as dark as twilight.
Though she had no desire to speak with Noah, she and the others took care to stay close to him. The tail of their party consisted of two more natives, both of whom eyed the ladies with undisguised interest as they trailed behind, making no more noise than a bird in flight. Their disturbing lack of proper clothing kept Evie’s cheeks burning, and the smell of the oil with which they covered their bodies provided a constant reminder of their presence.
“It’s quite a long way, isn’t it?” Lucy caught her eye over the mule’s neck. “How long do you suppose we’ve been walking?”
Before Evie could answer, Ethel ventured a breathless guess. “An hour at least.”
The poor woman looked as though she might collapse from exhaustion. Red splotches rode high on her cheeks and her ample bosom heaved with the effort to breathe. Strands of mouse-colored hair had rebelled against the binding at the back of her neck and waved freely above her head.
“I hope it’s not much farther.” Sarah’s tone contained the hint of a whine. “These shoes weren’t meant for tromping over miles and miles of wilderness.”
At the lead, Noah turned his head to speak in their direction. “We haven’t gone a mile yet.” The amusement that lightened his words served to further irritate Evie. “But don’t worry. It’s not much farther.”
She held her tongue, in part because she was feeling rather winded herself. Back in Chattanooga she had walked much farther than this to and from her rented room at Mrs. Browning’s boardinghouse, but that had been on paved, even streets. Trudging over grass and winding around trees over land that dipped and rose in no apparent pattern was an entirely different kind of travel. Besides, the delightfully fresh air here seemed not to satisfy her lungs as well as the heavier air she’d grown up breathing.
When they reached the end of their journey, Noah brought the mule to a halt. Evie stepped out of the trees into a clearing and stopped, awed by the sight that met her eyes.
The sun, unimpeded by the dense forest, sparkled in a dazzling blue sky, casting its warm light downward like liquid crystal and turning the grass from ordinary green to a shimmering emerald. Clusters of ferns decorated the lush ground, their giant feathery leaves swaying in a gentle breeze. Along one side of the glade a shallow stream splashed over a rocky bed, the water so blue it might have been a ribbon of sky. Fir trees of all hues and sizes formed a protective circle around the glade, their bushy branches joining together to create a green rainbow wall. And towering above all, the ever-present cedars stretched toward the deep blue heavens, their moss-covered trunks straight and mighty.
“What a beautiful place.” Evie’s voice, breathless with wonder, broke the silence that had descended on the party.
Eyes round, Sarah agreed in an awed whisper. “I’ve never seen anyplace so lovely.”
A cabin lay on the other side of the clearing, a rectangle made of rough log walls and a steeply pitched roof covered in wood shakes. An odd-looking half door punctuated this side, the top part pushed open. Did they close the bottom to keep forest animals from wandering in? Evie spared a sideways glance at Ethel, who had made no secret of her fear of wild animals.
Noah cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ho, the cabin!” His shout echoed in the clearing.
A woman appeared at the cabin door and inspected them with a sharp glance. Her head turned, as though speaking to someone inside, and then the bottom half opened. Two little girls tumbled out.
“Uncle Noah! Uncle Noah!” The high-pitched voice of the youngest rang with delight as she ran toward them on chubby legs. The child’s head was covered with a mass of red curls which shone in the sunlight.
Her dark-haired sister, whose legs were longer, reached them first and skidded to a stop in front of Noah. “Papa said you would come today and bring our visitors.” She turned a shy but curious glance on Evie, and dimples appeared in her round cheeks. “You’re pretty.”
Smiling, Evie bent down to put her face on level with the girl’s. “So are you. What’s your name?”
“Louisa Catherine. And this is Margaret.” Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the mule�
��s burden. “You have chickens!”
Laughing, Evie straightened. “Yes, I do.”
Margaret arrived, puffing with the effort of catching up with her sister, and threw herself at Noah, who swept her up in his arms. “Good morning, sweets. Did you save me a bite of your biscuit from breakfast?”
The child became serious. “No, Uncle Noah. I ate it all.” She brightened. “But Aunt Louisa made extra ’cause she knew you were coming.”
Aunt Louisa? Evie’s ears perked to attention. And the children called him Uncle Noah? While on the Commodore he had told them all he was not married, but was he, perhaps, spoken for? She tried to ignore the tickle of disappointment at the thought. What did she care if he had an arrangement with a woman? Not a thing.
Two women exited the cabin and waded through the thick grass toward them. The older held a baby propped on one hip, and though she had a kind smile, when she neared Evie saw signs of fatigue in the creases that circled her eyes. Arthur Denny’s wife?
Her companion lengthened her stride and came toward Noah with her hands extended, delight apparent on her face. And a lovely face it was, with smooth cheeks that curved around high cheekbones and eyes that danced with welcome.
“Noah, how lovely to see you. You’ve been too often absent lately.” The last was spoken in a teasing reproach that was belied by the deep curve of her pink lips.
When Noah set the little girl down and took the extended hands, Evie experienced a stab of jealousy. He had never smiled at her that way. The most he’d ever given her was a scowl and a lecture. Not that she gave two figs about Noah Hughes’s smiles, but he could have at least afforded her the respect he showed this lady. Surely she deserved that.
“Arthur keeps me too busy for visits.” He grinned into the woman’s face. “Perhaps he is doing it on purpose, to keep me away from here.”
She threw her head back, and laughter lilted toward the heavens. “That would be a completely un-Arthur-like thing to do. He is far too focused on real work to try to come up with worthless distractions.” Leaning close, she said in a mock-whisper, “Now, David might attempt such a scheme.”
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