by Jean Kincaid
She heard laughter and raucous voices outside. Maggie rushed to the side door and shushed the men as they stomped wood shavings off their boots and came in from their hard day’s work. They cast furtive glances Julianne’s way, the braver ones studying her with curious intensity. Each man accepted a bowl of stew and a generous hunk of cornbread from Maggie and made his way to a table.
Julianne felt uncomfortable under their stares. They talked in soft whispers as they ate, their eyes darting back and forth between Julianne and their plates.
As if the baby sensed her unease, he began to fret. Stiffening his little body, a single cry of protest escaped. Maggie thrust a bottle with a sticky rubber nipple into her hands and shoved her toward the back door.
Julianne walked outside and sank down on the back step. The baby snuggled against her as he drank from the bottle. He was such a tiny little thing. He couldn’t be more than a few days old. Helpless in the situation life had placed him. Same as Julianne.
She brushed the fine blond hair across his forehead. Deep blue eyes stared up at her as he drank. Julianne remembered a woman aboard the ship she’d traveled on. She’d had blond hair and soft blue eyes, and had been pregnant. Had she been Caleb’s wife, and was this their child?
“We’ll make it, little fellow. Just you wait and see.” She whispered the words of encouragement with a slight smile of defiance. They weren’t beaten yet.
“He seems to like you.”
Startled by the voice, Julianne glanced uneasily over her shoulder.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered, easing down to sit beside her on the wooden step. Julianne eyed him nervously. She’d learned quickly not to trust any man, even if he did have a pleasant look, nice smile and soft voice.
She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. The only sound in the evening air was the mewing sound the baby made as he ate. She sought a topic of conversion to fill the silence but found nothing of interest. Only her problems were uppermost in her mind.
“He’s a greedy little fella, isn’t he?” The man leaned forward and touched the baby’s soft cheek.
Expecting the offensive odor of sweat, Julianne was instead surprised by the clean scent of lye soap.
Earlier in the day, when he had brought the baby in and passed him off to Maggie, Julianne had been so wrapped up in her own troubles that she hadn’t paid much attention to the man. So this was Caleb. The Caleb Maggie seemed to think so highly of.
Now, sitting just inches away from the man, she took the time to get a better look at him. Light brown hair touched his collar. It curled on the ends, making her wonder if it was as soft as it looked. His profile was sharp and confident, his skin bronzed by the wind and sun. His firm mouth tilted upward slightly as if always on the edge of a smile. The fingers that stroked the baby’s cheek were callused, tapered and strong.
But the thing that drew her attention most was his eyes. They looked moist as he studied the baby in her arms. They were an unusual shade of green, polished jade, and she detected a touch of sorrow in their depths. As if too much heartbreak had entered his life.
Again she wondered about the baby’s mother.
As if he could read her mind, Caleb answered. “His mother is dead. I buried her the day the ship arrived in port. She didn’t even have time to name him.”
Julianne heard the heartache in his voice and felt the urge to comfort him. “I’m sorry,” was all she could get out of her tight throat.
“Maggie tells me your name is Julianne. I’m Caleb Hansen.” He raised his head and studied her face. Julianne wondered what he saw. She knew she was no beauty. Her uncle had told her she had hair the color of coal and that her lips were too big for her face.
Not that it mattered; the last thing she wanted was for a man with a baby to find her attractive. The baby squirmed as if in protest to her thoughts. She gently transferred him into Caleb’s arms.
Caleb put a cloth over his shoulder and rested the baby against it. He gently patted the little fellow on the back until a loud burp reached their ears. When Caleb eased the infant from his shoulder, a small dribble of milk escaped the corner of the baby’s mouth. She watched him wipe the edge of the tiny lips with tender care that seemed impossible with those large hands.
Settling the child in the crook of his arm, he stood. “Thank you for watching him.”
For reasons she didn’t understand, Julianne didn’t want Caleb to go. “Have you eaten?” He mounted the horse with the baby in one arm, emphasizing the strength of his thighs and powerful, well-muscled arms.
“Not yet, but I’m heading home. I’ve got food at the cabin. Thanks again for taking care of the little one.” He turned the horse to go.
Julianne watched Caleb and the baby until she could no longer see them through the trees. Then she turned wearily to help Maggie with the massive cleanup of the kitchen. She tried to maintain a positive outlook, but tomorrow loomed like a giant thundercloud, much like the ones hovering over the sawmill camp right now. In fact, in the four days since she’d arrived she’d only caught an occasional glimpse of the sun. That sat slightly at odds with her nature. Lord knew, she needed all the positive reinforcement she could get and a little sunshine would go a long way.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Caleb tramped through the logging camp. Young and old men alike practiced for the upcoming contest. He stopped beside the man who had started the whole mess.
Sloan glanced over at him and gave a brief nod. “Did you come to compete too, Hansen?” His gaze moved to Julianne. “If I’d known how beautiful she was, I might not have married Susan.”
The foreman joined the two men. “You could put a stop to this now, Sloan. I could change the prize to a day off with pay and the men wouldn’t argue too much.”
“She owes me.” Sloan spat on the ground and stomped away.
Caleb watched him leave. What caused a man to turn so bitter? He pulled his attention from the young man and nodded hello to the foreman. “You going to join the competition, boss?”
“Nah, I have to keep everyone in line.”
Caleb had found William Taylor to be a man of honor and a fair and generous boss. And he ruled his loggers with a sternness that not many men dared to defy.
“How about you?” Taylor asked. “You going to compete?”
“I’m not sure.” Caleb had asked himself the same question last night. The baby needed someone to take care of him. Caleb knew he could not stay up all night with a crying baby and work the next day. The way the little one stiffened and drew his tiny legs up against his chest worried Caleb. A woman seemed to instinctively know about these things but he was at a loss.
His cabin might not be the fanciest but it was one of the nicest around. Roomy with a loft and a modern wood cookstove. Julianne would have a home if she so chose.
Caleb refused to explore the unfamiliar emotions he felt every time he saw the black-haired beauty, but long after darkness had settled over the evening before, he’d remembered her beautiful, clear blue eyes and the determined expression on her face as she’d stood her ground with Sloan.
Now both men looked straight ahead. The foreman focused on the trees that would be felled that day. Caleb’s attention focused solely on Julianne.
He watched Maggie come up and place the baby in Julianne’s arms. A frown marred her pretty features as she looked down at the infant. He wondered at the cause. Didn’t she like babies? He thought all women had a built in love for a motherless child, yet that definitely was not motherly love on her face.
Questions swirled through his mind. Had she taken the money as she was accused of doing? Could she be trusted to watch the baby? Which brought up another question: Exactly what did he know about her?
Absolutely nothing.
“If you compete, there isn’t another man around here that could beat you. That baby needs a mother, and the woman needs a place to stay. It would be a good t
radeoff for both of you.” The foreman walked away before Caleb could protest or comment.
He continued to stroll through the camp. Pieces of conversations met his ears. Each man boasted about what would become of the lovely Miss Julianne once he won the contest.
“I’ll have her baking a cake before sundown, if I win,” Ben bragged as he flung his ax at a tree stump.
His buddy laughed. “Yeah, me too, but after that, she could get started on my washing. I’ve worn these clothes for over a week.”
Caleb moved on, fighting the urge to smash both men in the mouth for their lack of consideration. As he passed Marcus Harvey and another logger, he heard Marcus crow.
“She’s a pretty little thing. I’m looking forward to making her pay for that fare she stole.” Marcus was a big burly man who enjoyed acting like a tough guy. Rumor had it he’d killed a man, but it was only hearsay and had never been proven.
Caleb winced at the thought of Julianne or any woman at the mercy of Marcus Harvey. Finally, he wound up where Julianne stood. “How’s the baby?”
He watched her blue eyes widen with surprise, though she tried hard to hide it. He’d evidently startled her again. He was intrigued by the mystery that surrounded the woman in front of him.
“He’s fine. I was wondering if you’ve thought of a name for him, yet.” She smoothed the hair off the baby’s face and rocked from side to side.
Caleb wondered if she rocked to sooth her own nerves or the child’s. “Not yet, I’m thinking along the lines of Jonathan. What do you think?”
“Jonathan.” The name came out a whisper as if she were testing its flavor against her tongue. “It means Jehovah’s gift.” She squinted up at him. “You should consider him a gift from the Lord. I like it. It sounds strong. A man needs a strong name.”
The question was out before he could stop it. “How did you get into this predicament, Julianne?” He watched her eyes take on a faraway look.
Bitterness laced her next words. “I trusted the wrong man.”
* * *
Screams of frustration longed to escape Julianne’s throat as she watched her future being decided for her. She felt frozen in limbo where all decisions and actions evaded her.
Strange and disquieting thoughts had plagued her all through the night, not to mention the straw tick she’d slept on, on Maggie’s floor. She’d awakened this morning sick with the struggle inside.
Now, as she observed the two leaders of the competition, a small glimmer of hope helped her raise her chin and muster all the dignity she could.
Caleb and one other man were in the lead. In the ax throwing, both men had hit the bull’s-eye on the target. Caleb had climbed and cut the top off of a tree faster than anyone else. The other man, named Marcus, had split more wood than Caleb. He’d only won by one log but he’d still won. And now it looked as if Caleb was using all the strength he had to fell a tree before Marcus.
She admired the way the muscles in his back and shoulders bulged, as he dragged the saw back and forth against the tree. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face and into his eyes. Still, he continued to bunch his muscles and work faster.
The thought of Caleb Hansen winning the race wasn’t too distasteful. The other men respected him, and it appeared most of them wanted him to win. The few brief times she’d seen him, he’d said little, the semblance of a quiet man. But her aunt had said it was the quiet ones you had to beware of. Of course, her aunt had been talking about Julianne, not a man, so should that be a characteristic by which she judged Caleb?
She chose to believe he was the kind of man who would pay off her debt and then allow her to pay him back as she got the money.
Her gaze moved to Marcus. Now, here was trouble in capital letters. A burly man with arms as big around as some of the trees that surrounded the camp, he had a mean attitude and cursing came as easily as breathing. She shuddered to think what kind of man he was. She doubted he would be willing to wait for her to repay him. But she had news for him. He’d have to.
“If you’re a praying woman, you better pray that one doesn’t win.” Maggie spoke in a low, warning voice, as if afraid that Marcus would hear. She held the baby against her shoulder and patted his back. She used her chin to point at Marcus.
Julianne tore her gaze away from the men. “Why?” She struggled to make her voice nonchalant. “It really doesn’t matter to me who wins. I’ll make an arrangement with the winner, he’ll pay Sloan and I’ll pay him back with the money I make from taking in laundry.”
Maggie shook her head. “Honey, not to embarrass you, but these men have been without a woman for a long time. Do you really think they will just give Sloan the money, and then wait for you to pay it back?” She rocked the sleeping baby.
“You don’t mean…?” Julianne’s hand went to her mouth.
The older woman leaned closer and whispered. “Marcus is a mean one. He will demand full payment of his money from you, and he’s not afraid to take it out of your hide. If you know what I mean.” Maggie pulled away to cheer on Caleb. “Keep at it Caleb, he’s almost whupped!” She bellowed with the rest of the crowd. The baby uttered a sharp cry of protest as if he, too, were against Marcus winning.
Julianne looked at the man they had been discussing. He stood at least a head and a half taller than she. He caught her eye for a moment and grinned, but his eyes remained flat, hard and passionless. It frightened her to think what he had in store for her.
After quieting the baby, Maggie leaned close again. “Now Caleb, there is a fine young man. He’s got his reason for wanting to win too, though.” She paused. “He needs a mama for this little boy of his. I imagine he figures you will fit the bill.”
“No.” Julianne whispered. That was one of the reasons she’d run from New York—to get away from screaming children and adults who tried to run her life. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Oh, being married to Caleb wouldn’t be so bad. He’s got a real nice cabin built off in the woods, and he’s a Bible-reading man.”
Bible reading or not, Julianne wanted no part of taking care of someone else’s child. And she knew that reading the Bible didn’t necessarily make anyone a better man. Her uncle read the good book every night. What good had it done? Not one whit. He still beat her and turned her into the house slave.
But it hadn’t always been like that. She had earlier memories of an uncle who had been kind and patient. He’d bought her a pony and taught her to ride.
“Timber!” The shout came from Caleb.
Marcus added his voice to it. “Timber!”
Everyone held their breaths as the mighty pine trees fell in unison.
“I won!” Marcus yelled, jerking his hat off his head and rushing to Julianne.
Before she had a chance to protest, he threw her over his shoulder and started stomping off toward the woods. The pins in her hair fell out with each pounding step he took. The smell of sweat and body odor assaulted her senses and made her stomach queasy.
Marcus came to a bone-jarring halt. “Get out of my way, Hansen. I won fair and square.”
Julianne tried to pull herself upright but the big man slapped her on her bottom. The sound echoed in the silent camp. Mortified, Julianne’s embarrassment turned to hot, burning anger. She turned her head to the side and sank her teeth into the soft skin above Marcus’s belt.
Marcus dumped Julianne at his feet then drew his arm back to hit her.
* * *
“I wouldn’t hit her if I were you, Harvey.” Caleb’s warning rang out before the slap connected.
“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” He grabbed Julianne by the hair and jerked her head back.
Her cry of pain tore at Caleb’s insides. He took a step forward. His gaze locked with hers, and he witnessed the fear, pain and humiliation on her soft features. Marcus pulled a knife from his boot and pressed it into her throat in one liquid motion. “Hold it right there, Hansen.”
Caleb stopped. A small stream of blood tra
veled from the tip of the knife, down her throat and into the material at her neck. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, he simply held her gaze and silently begged her to trust him.
He held his hands up. “Now what?”
Marcus looked around the logging camp. Men watched his every move. It was apparent he hadn’t planned on revealing the knife, but pride made him bluster through the threat. Twisting his hand in her hair and pushing the knife a little harder against her throat, he jerked Julianne to her feet. He saw the foreman standing off to one side with his hands behind his back. “Me and the little gal are gonna go settle up.”
Caleb stepped closer. “I don’t think so, Harvey. You’re either going to let her go or kill her now.” He made eye contact with the foreman.
Julianne gave a tiny squeak as the knife cut deeper.
The foreman stepped forward. “Marcus, I’m not so sure you won. The trees fell about the same time and me and the boys here will be the judge of who won.”
Marcus focused on the foreman and shook his head. “No, sir. I won.” He lightened the pressure on Julianne’s neck.
It was all the distraction Caleb needed. He rushed at Marcus, grabbed the hand that held the knife and forced it away from Julianne.
The camp went wild. Marcus kicked Julianne away from him and she fell, her head hitting a tree, her limp body unmoving.
In a matter of seconds, Caleb had Marcus on the ground, his feet and hands bound with rope.
Caleb rushed to Julianne. Blood caked her throat and the front of her dress. He scooped up her unconscious form. “Maggie!”
“I’m right here. You don’t have to shout.” She scolded him. “Take her into the cookshack.”
The baby slept soundly in Maggie’s arms, unaware that there had been a fight and someone had just faced the jowls of death and survived.
Caleb laid Julianne down on the kitchen floor. “Do you think she’s going to be all right, Maggie?” Her eyelashes looked like black soot against her colorless face.
Maggie started to hand him the sleeping baby. “Here take care of your son, while I tend to her.”