Rainy Day Dreams: 2

by Lori Copeland

  Jason’s eyebrows shot upward, and he leveled a piercing gaze on her. “Oh?”

  Kathryn busied herself with her plate. She and Madame may have reached an uneasy truce regarding her title, but that had not yet been communicated to the guests. Would he correct their hostess and name her a common hotel maid? If he embarrassed her here, in front of all these people, she would die of humiliation.

  “I suppose you two met on board?” Evie’s sharp-eyed glance volleyed between them.

  A long silence, and then Jason answered. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

  Kathryn released a pent-up breath. Apparently he had decided to display some of those gentlemanly manners for which she had praised him earlier.

  The door opened once again. More customers? Goodness, this restaurant certainly enjoyed a brisk trade.

  Evie called a greeting. “Captain Baker! I hoped we would have the pleasure of seeing you this evening.”

  Kathryn straightened to attention. Sure enough, the captain and his first mate entered the restaurant. Excellent. No need to wait until morning to arrange for her return trip.

  “You know I won’t miss an opportunity to enjoy a meal at Evangeline’s.” His gaze circled the room and came to rest on Kathryn. “I see some of my passengers have already found their way here.”

  He gave a courtly half-bow in her direction and then took a chair across from Jason. Kathryn finished her meal as quickly as propriety allowed and excused herself to the disappointment of the men seated around her. Once again she became the focus of every pair of eyes in the room as she made her way across the aisle. When she approached the captain’s table, all three men rose politely.

  “Pardon the interruption, Captain. Might I have a word with you?”

  “Of course, my dear.” He waved toward an empty chair. “Won’t you be seated?”

  Not exactly what she had in mind. She’d hoped to speak to the captain in private, but she couldn’t very well expect him to leave his dinner to grow cold, could she? She glanced at Jason, who didn’t quite meet her eye.

  “Thank you.”

  She sat, smoothing her skirts as the men returned to their chairs.

  “Would it be possible to book a return passage to San Francisco when the Fair Lady leaves on Friday?”

  What she really wanted to ask was how much the voyage would cost. If the price were too high, she hoped he would agree to defer payment until after their arrival in San Francisco. His answer took her aback.

  “I’m afraid not.” Captain Baker picked up his fork and speared a gooey apple slice. “Every bunk is spoken for this trip.”

  “What?” Disbelief stiffened her spine. “Surely you have room for one more.”

  “Not on this voyage. I’ve got a ship full of lumberjacks heading south, eager to spend their hard-earned pay.”

  “But…” She cast about in her mind, her thoughts whipping into a desperate pace. “Can’t one of them wait until the next ship?”

  The skipper and his mate exchanged a smile. “It wouldn’t just be one of them, now, would it? Not unless you intend to bunk with a cabin full of lumberjacks. We have no private accommodations on the Fair Lady, as you well know.”

  On the trip here there had been six empty bunks in the cabin Kathryn had shared with Miss Everett. Jason had given up the pretense of eating to watch the exchange. She ignored him.

  “Eight men, then. I’m sure my father will make it worth your while.”

  “I gave my word to your father to see you safely to Seattle. I’ve done that.” Captain Baker awarded her a paternalistic smile. “I doubt if he intended for you to turn around and go home immediately.”

  She was still trying to come up with a persuasive argument when the door opened yet again. This time it burst inward and slammed into the wall with a loud crack. A man rushed into the restaurant, his eyes wild and his breath coming in ragged gulps. His head whipped back and forth as he searched the room.

  Noah, who had been standing near one of the tables talking with the men while they ate, straightened. “What is it, Lawson? Is something wrong?”

  Laying eyes on him, Lawson ran across the room and grabbed Noah by the arm. “It’s the Indians! They’re attacking!”

  Chair legs scraped on wood as half the occupants in the room leaped to their feet. Kathryn joined them, her heart thudding in her throat. An Indian attack?

  The room began to whirl and her vision darkened. A last thought shouted in her mind before she collapsed. Here was yet another item to add to the list of complaints for Papa. If, of course, she lived to present them.

  Three

  Jason lurched sideways in time to catch Kathryn as she crumpled. He scooped up her still form, her weight no more than a satchel full of feathers.

  “She’s fainted,” shouted a deep voice.

  “Quick, get some smelling salts,” instructed someone else.

  A few men rushed toward him, pressing close to stare at the drooping figure in his arms while the man who’d rushed into the room collected his own audience near the door. Someone pulled out a chair and he collapsed into it, panting heavily.

  Jason shifted his weight from one boot to the other. What in the world was he to do with a fainting woman? Stand there and hold her until she came to? Lay her out on the table? The floor? He was just about to deposit her into the arms of the big man who hovered anxiously over him when Mrs. Hughes’s voice cut through the worried chatter.

  “Get back, everyone. Give her room.” She shoved her way between two men as if they were tall stalks of river grass, pulling the stopper from a bottle. “Here. It’s just vinegar, but it ought to do the trick.”

  Actually, Kathryn’s eyelids were already fluttering. When Mrs. Hughes held the bottle beneath her nose, her head jerked away and her skull cracked against his chin.

  “Ow!” He couldn’t even rub his stinging jaw.

  “She’s awake,” announced the proprietress, and a collective sigh sounded around the room. She laid a hand across Kathryn’s forehead. “Kathryn, dear, are you all right?”

  “Yes, I—I’m fine.” Her voice trembled on the last word, but otherwise sounded strong enough. When she looked into his face, her eyes went wide and her body stiffened in his arms. “Please put me down immediately.”

  “Here.” Evie scooted out a chair, and Jason wasted no time in depositing Kathryn in it. He whirled on his heel and pushed his way through the hovering men to join those circled around the messenger, watching him gulp down a cup of water. She was in capable hands, many pairs of them.

  “That’s right, drink it all and catch your breath.” Noah spoke through a clenched jaw, tension obvious in the cords standing out on his neck.

  “Hurry up,” urged one of the men watching. “Tell us what’s happened.”

  Lawson drained the water and lowered the cup, his chest heaving. “There’s been another attack, up near Holmes Harbor. Fella from over in Alki disappeared, and a posse set out to track him. Didn’t find him, but they was attacked by a group of Indians. Killed a couple, and one of them was killed too. Shot clean through.”

  Alki Point. Jason knew the place. The Fair Lady had passed the settlement on the way here, on the exposed side of the Sound. Word had it that was the place where the founders of Seattle landed first before coming here in search of a site with shelter from the harsh seas during rough weather.

  While Lawson talked, the men surrounding Kathryn had joined them, and now they mumbled to one another. Their voices contained equal tones of anger and fear.

  Noah pointed toward the man nearest the door. “Go get David. He needs to hear this.”

  The messenger left at a run.

  Jason shot a glance behind him, where Evie stood with a hand on Kathryn’s shoulder looking his way. “Look here, Hughes.” He spoke quietly. “I thought the natives in these parts were peaceable.”

  “They are.” Captain Baker, who stood nearby with a coffee mug in his hand, inserted himself into the conversation. “I had a word with Captain Ste
rrett before he left, and he assures me there is no threat of conflict with the natives. Frankly, I’m surprised at your reaction. You people have lived practically side by side with them for years.”

  Noah didn’t answer at first, his jaw working as he stared at the man. Then he nodded slowly. “That’s true enough. The Duwamish tribesmen are our friends and have been since we settled here. But Chief Seattle moved the bulk of his people to a reservation some time ago. A few stayed, but most left with him. These are new tribes coming in from the north, and they aren’t as tolerant of white settlers who’ve moved in and taken possession of what have traditionally been tribal lands.”

  “Unhappy with the arrangements, perhaps, but not violent.” The captain’s posture straightened and he rocked back on his heels. “No doubt they’ll come to see reason after a while. In the meantime, we mustn’t be alarmists.”

  Lawson rounded on the man. “You sayin’ the report about the fight over at Holmes Harbor is wrong? ’Cause I’ll bet there’s a widow lady in Alki who might have something to say about them folks not being violent.”

  One of the millworkers spoke up. “We all know there’s a few Indians who’d just as soon kill us as look at us, but most of them are as friendly as you or me.”

  The man standing next to him shook his head. “Maybe so, but it only takes a handful to start shooting. Before you know it we’ve got a war on our hands.”

  A man in dingy red-striped suspenders rounded on him. “Why’d you have to mention war? That kind of talk is what’s causing folks around here to panic.”

  The other’s fists clenched, and Jason noted that his was not the only reddened face in the circle. Obviously emotions on this topic ran high, as well they should. Given the reports in years past of the savage slaughter of westward-bound pioneers on wagon trails through the plains, people were prone to panic at the mere hint of conflict between red men and white.

  A pair of men entered the restaurant followed closely by Noah’s messenger, whose breath came hard.

  Noah’s tension visibly relaxed. “David, glad you could come so quickly. There’s been another attack.” He jerked a nod toward Lawson, who launched into his tale for the second time.

  Jason studied the newcomer. David Denny, one of the founders of Seattle. Along with his older brother and a handful of others, this man had established the timber trade that attracted the attention of Henry Yesler, who then built the first steam mill in this part of the country. Since that time, Seattle had thrived and grown beyond anyone’s expectations. David was younger than Jason expected, probably not more than twenty-five or six, which would make him around ten years younger than Jason. But intelligence gleamed in the dark eyes that focused intently on Lawson.

  When the man finished, David and Noah exchanged a loaded glance. Seeing it, Jason felt the stirrings of unease deep in his gut. He may not know them well, but his years managing crews of millworkers back East had taught him a thing or two about judging men’s character. These two were no alarmists, no matter what the captain said. If they shared a concern about hostilities between white men and Indians, there was a valid reason for caution.

  The heavy silence that descended on the men as they waited for David’s reply spoke of their high opinion of him. When he did speak, he looked around the group, his gaze connecting with as many as possible. Jason’s opinion of the man’s leadership rose another few notches. That the men looked up to him was obvious in the attention they afforded him.

  “We can’t ignore this latest episode. We need to take steps to protect our families, our town.”

  A snort of disgust sounded from someone, and several men left the group to return to their plates. The one wearing suspenders folded his arms across his chest with a jerk and fixed a glare on David.

  “Of all the people in this town who’d give in to panic-stricken ravings, I never thought you’d be one, Denny. Why, you were friends with the Duwamish before anyone else.”

  His tone fairly dripped scorn, so much that Jason had a hard time keeping his tongue silent. If that attitude were directed toward him, he would be hard-pressed to hold his temper. But he was new here, and his job at the mill would be to lead these men regardless of their opinions or attitudes. To start out by entering into a local conflict would be inviting trouble.

  “I still am,” David answered in a level tone. “But I’ve told you before about Chief Seattle’s last words to me before he moved his tribe. Northern tribes like the Nisqually and Klickitats are angry at the loss of their lands. He told me point-blank that war is coming.”

  The facts couldn’t be stated more clearly, as far as Jason was concerned. Several heads nodded, and Noah’s wasn’t the only face that grew solemn with the pronouncement. Unbelievably, others still scoffed openly.

  Captain Baker set his coffee down on a nearby table, folded his arms across his chest, and rocked on his boot heels, his upper lip curled. “They’ve received payment for their lands. The treaty at the Tulalip agency—”

  Noah rounded on him, emotion giving his voice volume. “You mean the one where the Indians were given torn blankets, mouth harps, and a couple of barrels of blackstrap molasses?” He scowled. “Oh, that was fair trade for tribal lands that they’d lived and hunted on for centuries.”

  The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Why, Mr. Hughes, I had no idea you leaned toward the Indian cause.”

  Noah drew himself up, eyes blazing. “I lean toward any cause that is righteous, and disdain unfair treatment of any man, white or red.”

  In other circumstances, Jason would have applauded. Here was a man who could command his respect.

  David laid a restraining hand on Noah’s arm. “Gentlemen, let’s keep our heads about us, shall we? The question of the fairness of the treaty is not our purpose this evening. We’re faced with far more pressing concerns.” His gaze became solemn. “Like keeping our women and children safe in the event of an attack on Seattle.”

  A frigid chill settled over the captain’s smile. “Well, then, I’ll leave you to discuss the matter.” He crossed to the pegs on the wall to retrieve his coat. Digging in the pocket of his trousers, he extracted a few coins and tossed them on the table next to his abandoned mug. “Mrs. Hughes, thank you for a delicious meal, as always.”

  Across the room, Evie still stood beside Kathryn’s chair. She nodded an acknowledgment, her expression gracious but strained. Kathryn’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, and her face was a pasty white, whether due to her fainting spell or the conversation, Jason didn’t know. When the captain left the room, a good third of the men followed, leaving their meals half-eaten.

  When they had gone, David heaved a pent-up breath. His chest deflated and he rubbed a hand across his eyes. “That didn’t go well, did it?”

  The man who had arrived with him agreed with a nod. “Could have been better.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Noah swept the room with an openhanded gesture. “At least now we know who’s in agreement with us.” His gaze fell on Jason. “Sorry you had to witness a conflict on your first night in our fair city. And I haven’t even introduced you. Jason Gates, meet David Denny and William Townsend. Jason is the new manager down at the mill.”

  “Welcome.” David’s grip was firm, his smile slow but open. “I know Henry’s been looking forward to having you here.”

  The other man was older by a couple of decades, his clean, dark hair liberally sprinkled with silver. He clasped Jason’s hand and searched his face with keen eyes. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’m the daytime foreman.”

  Jason kept rigid control of his expression, though his eyebrows nearly rose when the man identified himself. In his correspondence Yesler mentioned daytime and nighttime foremen, and Jason had wondered about them. Yesler had managed the mill himself since he built it four years before, and now that the operation was running smoothly, he wanted to devote himself to other pursuits. Why, then, hadn’t he made one of his foremen the new mill manager? More importantly, had
either of them expected to step into the role? If so, he’d have a conflict on his hands before he even started work.

  “Good to meet you, Townsend. I look forward to working with you.”

  The eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing the sincerity of his words, and then he dipped his head.

  “Oh, and another manager arrived today as well, or at least an assistant manager.” Noah’s tone became lighter as he turned and looked toward the ladies. “This is Miss Kathryn Bergert, who’s come to help with the management of the Faulkner House.”

  Had Jason possessed fewer manners he would have snorted a laugh. The girl had plenty of nerve, he’d give her that.

  Actually, if he were honest with himself, he had to admit a grudging respect. She’d managed to turn an unpleasant situation into one that sounded enviable. Unpleasant to her, at least. As far as he was concerned there was absolutely nothing wrong with plain hard work in any capacity. He fully intended to roll up his shirtsleeves and put in some long hours alongside the men he managed. But not everyone shared his opinion. If calling herself an assistant manager made her job more palatable, what was it to him?

  A surprising change had come over Townsend’s features. What began as a pleasant enough glance across the room became a wide-eyed stare. He jerked upright, his lips parted, and his mouth gaped open. Jason followed his glance toward Kathryn. Did the two know each other? Judging by the polite inquiry in her expression, she didn’t seem aware of any prior acquaintance with the man.

  “I—” Townsend took a backward step. “I must go. I have to—” He tore his gaze away, his mouth snapping shut and his throat constricting in a convulsive swallow. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gates.”

  “Yes, in the morning.” Jason’s reply was directed toward the man’s back as he beat a hasty retreat through the door.

  What curious behavior. An awkward silence settled over the room, with many glances cast toward Kathryn. She stared after him, eyebrows drawn together, looking as perplexed as everyone else.

  Kathryn watched the man leave. What astoundingly bad manners, to leave that way in the middle of an introduction.