Frederick’s eyes scanned the tracks ahead, wary of anything else that could slow his trip back to the mill.
About a mile ahead, he spied a downed tree trunk lying across the tracks. “Lord, no!” He groaned and kicked the furnace so hard his foot hurt.
Emma sewed with frantic speed on Jake’s shirt. She had gotten up a little earlier to have a few precious minutes to work on it before beginning her duties for the day. Thankfully, it was nearly done. All she had left was the buttons, and he’d have something nice to wear for Christmas. Bacon interrupted her thoughts as he trotted in from outside. She pulled him close to her chest and hugged him so hard he squealed.
“I’m sorry, little friend. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She stroked the top of his head and Bacon looked up at her with dark eyes and grunted as if he actually understood. He had grown in the six weeks or so since Frederick had brought him to her. In another few months he might live up to his name and be on the breakfast table as opposed to cuddled in her arms. A part of her wanted to shove him away and not allow her heart to love him, but there was something about this motherless creature that nobody but her seemed to care about. Whether she willed it or not, he was winning her love.
After setting Bacon on the floor to root around, Emma finished two buttons on her brother’s shirt. She would have to wait until the next day before it was finished. She tucked it in her sewing basket then swept the bunkhouse, carted fresh water up from the stream, and tended to the many other duties of her job.
The cold afternoon drifted by as she filled the woodboxes and dried the dishes for Mrs. Wilkin. She ironed Jake’s Sunday clothes and lugged water from the creek for Mrs. Wilkin to cook supper with.
“Emma, where are you?” Jake’s voice carried down to her as she was fetching another bucket of water from the stream.
“Down here, Jake.” Emma lugged the bucket along as fast as the awkward load allowed. Much to her relief, Jake quickly came alongside her and took the pail from her hands. It warmed her heart to know how protective her older brother was of her. She was glad she had decided to make him something nice for the holidays.
“You’ve been working hard, sis. Abigail told me in town that she saw you and Stanley talking at the mercantile last week. Anything I should know about?” Jake asked like it was the simplest thing in the world to answer.
“Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Emma’s feelings vacillated. She wanted to be honest but feared the repercussions if she told him everything. She didn’t want to tell her brother about Abigail’s snooty comments or Stanley’s creepy remarks.
“I heard Abigail flirting with Stanley.” Jake’s face turned into a thunderous cloud of angry emotion. “She told me you were doing the same, with Stanley and with Frederick. Try as I might, I can’t make myself believe that.”
“What? That’s not true, Jake. You know I’m not like that!” Emma gasped and clutched handfuls of her skirt in her fists.
“I know it isn’t true, but I don’t take kindly to folks referring to my sister that way. I don’t want Stanley getting any funny ideas. It’s bad enough I had to protect Mama from a monster of a stepfather. I don’t wish to do the same for you!”
“I’ll take extra care to mind my manners,” Emma said.
“And stay away from Stanley,” Jake ordered. “I don’t trust him.”
“Yes, Jake,” Emma conceded. God forbid, what if Stanley watched her when nobody was around? Would he attack her or something awful like that?
Indignation rose within her. No, she would not allow herself to suffer the way her mother had. She’d defend herself if any man attacked her, and she didn’t care if it meant her brother’s job or not. After what had happened to their mother, she was sure Jake would feel the same way.
“Morning, E.V.” Frederick climbed down from Inferno quite happy about his new raise from the boss. Soon he’d have his father’s house out of foreclosure. If only he could buy Emma something girlie and nice to show her how much he cared for her.
“Morning,” E.V. replied, pulling on his work gloves.
Frederick met E.V. at the end of the first flatbed. “Is that a bunch of ladies’ bonnets in your office I saw the other day?”
“Yep.” While his tone had E.V.’s normal good-natured optimism, the sadness that momentarily flickered in his brown eyes dampened Frederick’s mood. “I need to return them to their rightful owner.”
“Are they Larkin’s?”
“I seem to have a knack for finding them around town.”
“I take it your efforts with Miss Whitworth haven’t produced any positive results?”
“Not yet.” E.V. grabbed the end of a log and then paused. “Fred, if something’s truly important to you, you don’t give up, no matter what the obstacle is. Now let’s get this timber unloaded. I’ve got paperwork to do.”
Frederick grabbed the end of the log and lifted. The temptation to spend his raise on Emma clawed at his heart. Maybe he could find something little to let her know how he felt.
Once the train was unloaded, Frederick headed into town. The little money he had jingled in his pocket.
Inside the mercantile, he found a multitude of things any woman would fancy. Then his eyes fell on a spool of ivory-colored eyelet lace.
“Miss Pearson gazed at that same lace just the other day.” The store clerk nodded toward Frederick.
“I bet this would go perfect with one of her dresses.” One yard cost a fraction of what a new bonnet did. Frederick could hardly wait to give it to her.
He paid for his find. Once the lace was wrapped, he hurried back to the train.
Careful to not get the wrapping dirty, Frederick placed the package in the corner on the floor, out of the way of the furnace’s soot and grime.
He stoked the furnace as full as he dared. He was in a hurry to see the look on Emma’s face when he gave her the lace. In hardly any time, Inferno chugged up the hillside. Widow’s Bend came and went. No trouble there, but then a mess of deer grazing on the tracks caught his eye. He pulled on the whistle, but the stubborn animals remained on the tracks and simply stared at him with their noses in the air.
“Come on, move it!” Frederick bellowed. Frustration mounting, he yanked on the whistle one last time.
Chapter 7
Emma was just finishing hanging the clean sheets on the line when a call went out for the company’s doctor. Frederick Corrigan was hurt. Again.
Dropping the clothespins to the ground, she lifted her skirts and raced toward the wagon pulling into the camp. Thankfully some crew members had found him on the tracks and brought him back to camp. Jake could bring the train in later that night.
Emma stopped by the wagon. Lord, please don’t let him be seriously injured. She was beginning to care for Frederick, and her heart couldn’t take another loss.
“Is he badly hurt?” she asked.
One of the men waved a hand at her. “Nah, he’ll be fine. He just went a few rounds with some bucks on the tracks.”
“And lost.” Stanley chuckled as the men carried Frederick to the bunkhouse.
Emma aimed her meanest scowl at Stanley but held her tongue. She could see that Frederick bled from the head and right shoulder. “I’ll get some water heating and tear some bandages.”
Poor Frederick babbled on about how crazy deer acted in rutting season, and something about lace for a lady’s dress.
Lord, he must have taken quite a lick to the head.
Emma reached the kitchen and could see that Mrs. Wilkin was one step ahead of her. The pot of water sat on top of the cookstove. Emma piled wood under the fire to get it blazing. Next she raced back to the clothesline and snatched the most ragged sheet down. She tore several strips with lightning speed.
When she had a sufficient amount, she grabbed the bundle and hurried to the bunkhouse, gasping for breath. Frederick was semi-coherent when she stumbled inside.
“Afternoon, Miss Emma,” he mumbled, his blond hair soaked red with blood.<
br />
“Hello, Frederick, I’m glad you seem well—um—as well as can be expected.” Emma breathed a sigh of relief and hoped she didn’t sound scatterbrained. Heat rushed to her face, and she ducked her head, lest he guess her feelings.
“I got you a more appropriate present than a pig, but it got dirty on the way home. I’m sorry.” Frederick’s tone lost some of its sparkle.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m growing quite fond of Bacon.”
“I’d be fond of him, too, on the breakfast table.” Frederick grinned.
Emma bristled with mock indignation. “I can assure you, the darling little thing won’t meet an untimely death and wind up alongside your pancakes one morning.”
Frederick let out a chuckle that shook the bed he was lying on. The man had a sense of humor and for that Emma was grateful.
Mr. Kenicky rushed into the room at that moment followed by Jake.
“Thank the Lord you’re all right, Corrigan.” Mr. Kenicky folded his arms over his chest and studied Frederick through narrowed eyes. “You know, one of these days your luck is gonna run out.”
The doctor maintained that Frederick’s wounds were minor. He told him to keep everything clean and change the bandages often.
“Rest assured, Doctor, I’ll do that.” Emma patted Frederick on the arm and smiled at him. It would be her pleasure to care for this wonderful man. Jake eyed her with suspicion. If he guessed she was now sweet on Frederick, she didn’t think he would understand, let alone be happy about the situation. She didn’t want either man to think of her as childish, so she straightened herself and acted like a proper lady should.
Later that evening Frederick lay back on the bed and tried not to let on how much pain he was in when Emma brought him his dinner. He pasted on a smile. But Stanley stoked the woodstove and stared daggers at him. Did Stanley admire Emma also? If they both wished to court her and Frederick won out, the boss would probably hear all about it. This was a situation he’d have to gauge carefully, or it could become as dangerous as rounding Widow’s Bend without brakes.
“Are you all right?” Emma’s sweet voice drew him to the present, and he gazed across the room at her. She stared at him with one eyebrow cocked and her head tilted to one side.
“Um, yes.” Frederick cleared his throat. “I’d like to thank you for helping out the doctor.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Emma set a basin of hot water on an end table along with a fistful of bandages. She then pulled a chair over to where he lay and tenderly pulled the dried bloody bandage from his head. He gritted his teeth against the pain. God forbid he yelped in the presence of a lady. She began to sponge the goose egg on his right temple with a wet cloth. The coolness was soothing against his skin. He sighed then laid his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes.
As good as the nursing felt, he still chided himself for the stupidity of his actions. How much work would he miss due to this injury? He was determined, not more than one day. Even with his new raise, he couldn’t afford to miss work.
After a moment, he heard the chair scoot back as Emma rose to her feet. “I must be going now. Mrs. Wilkin needs me to help cook supper tonight.”
He smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you more. Perhaps this Saturday we could go for a walk and have a picnic.”
Emma froze. Her heart skittered along like a pebble on smooth water’s surface before sinking into the depths below. Elation that he cared and fear of getting too close wrestled in her heart like two squirrels over the last hickory nut of the season.
“Why, yes, Frederick, I’d love to go.”
“Glad to hear you say yes.”
“I’m looking forward to it already.” Emma prepared to leave the room but couldn’t help grinning with excitement.
“Great. We’ll leave first thing Saturday morning.” Frederick beamed, his blue eyes twinkling.
Saturday morning arrived with a wan mid-fall sun that tried desperately to warm the frigid air, but didn’t quite succeed. Emma took Frederick’s arm as they strolled down a path in one of Tumwater’s most beautiful parks and watched the waterfalls.
Frederick spread the red-checked tablecloth on a picnic table while Emma pulled a plate of fried chicken from the basket. The aroma made her mouth water.
Throughout their meal, Frederick and Emma discussed everything from their favorite books to the places they’d like to visit.
“Emma, I’d like to take you down to Toledo for a short trip. I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin, and they have friends down there they’d like to visit. They would like us to go along. They’ve offered to cover the cost of the train tickets.” Frederick gazed at her with his dreamy blue eyes.
Emma blushed and turned away for a moment to gaze at the water. Again her heart seesawed with emotion, but the desire to get away from the logging camp won out.
“I’d love to, Frederick. When will we go?” She turned back to him and felt goose bumps on her arms, and not from the cold weather.
“We’ll take the train next weekend. If I work extra hours this week, I can afford to take off a day, maybe two. You’re going to love it.”
The November morning was perfect, with one exception. Emma hadn’t finished sewing the lace Frederick had gotten her onto her mother’s gown. She was resigned to her best Sunday dress of plain blue cotton as she and Frederick boarded the train, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin.
The whistle blew steam toward the sky with a loud racket. Emma started and clutched Frederick’s arm tighter. He laid a tender hand over hers and smiled down at her.
“This is so exciting, Frederick. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.” Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks and ducked her head in embarrassment. She was growing quite fond of the wild train engineer and wasn’t sure how to handle that fact.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Frederick took her by the hand and held her steady as the locomotive lurched to life and pulled away from the station. A clackity-clack sound filled Emma’s ears as the wheels rotated in rhythm.
Emma noticed Abigail standing on the station platform with an angry expression marring her features. Jealousy was evident in her furrowed brow and the clenched fists at her sides. Emma cringed, remembering Jake’s words. Abigail seemed bent on causing trouble.
Frederick and Emma rode along, chatting about Tumwater and life in the town. They entered into a lively discussion about Shakespeare. Jake had done a good job of keeping Emma educated after the deaths of their parents. Her dark eyes seemed to hold an odd mix of haunted pain and yearning for adventure.
The train slowed to a crawl and came to a stop with a jerk. The Wilkins and Frederick and Emma crowded to the doors to debark. From there the party boarded a stagecoach and rode to Toledo.
“We’re about to round the bend and then the town should come into view.” Frederick directed Emma toward a window and pointed past a clump of evergreen trees in the distance.
“The scenery is beautiful, Frederick. Thank you for bringing me here today.” Emma looked up at him with longing in her eyes. How he wanted to lean down and kiss her rosy lips. As they rolled into town, Frederick noticed a number of buildings that had sprung up since he had been there last. My, how the place had grown. The stage finally rocked and then lurched to a stop. It felt good to stretch his legs as he stepped down from the cramped confines.
“Allow me.” Frederick held his hand out to assist Emma down the stagecoach steps.
“Why don’t we get some lunch at the Koontz Hotel?” Mr. Wilkin asked.
“That sounds lovely,” Emma replied, her eyes sparkling in the sunshine as she kept her gloved hand in Frederick’s strong one.
A stern-wheeler on the river whistled. Emma emitted an unladylike squeal and craned her neck for a better view. She held onto Frederick’s waistcoat as if to steady herself.
“Mighty exciting, eh?” he asked, boldly wrapping his arm around her slender waist to keep her from falling as she turned this way and that, looking at everything. The
gasp that escaped from her lips caused his heart to beat faster. She looked up at him with dark ebony eyes that brimmed with anticipation and … passion?
“Thank you kindly for your assistance.” She blinked as if specks of dust had landed in her eyes.
“You’re most welcome.”
The town of Toledo had turned into a bustling place since he had last been there. Crewmen loaded and unloaded cargo from the boats lining the riverbanks. They made quite a racket. Frederick was pleased to see the steamboat the town had been named for. The Toledo blew its whistle again as several passengers scrambled to board before the boat sailed south again, down the Cowlitz River.
Sidewalks lined a few of the streets while others weren’t much more than muddy paths. Ladies strolled along the walkways holding parasols.
Just up and over the hill was Frederick’s childhood home, the one his family lived in before they moved to Tumwater to seek better medical care for his mother. The structure could be seen from downtown, and Frederick squirmed with anxiousness to see the old clapboard house once again. Memories came flooding back.
“Right this way, Emma.” Frederick guided her along the plank sidewalk that lined the muddy street. Their shoes made a clompity-clomp sound as they bustled along. “After lunch, I’d like to show you my childhood home.”
“Oh yes.” Emma wrinkled her pert little nose and lifted her skirts to avoid getting mud on them from a recent rainstorm. He held out his hand and escorted her across the nasty patch of ground. She looked up at him with that same look in her eyes that made his heart skitter like the clanking of Inferno’s wheels across a length of steel rails.
One question popped into Frederick’s mind and haunted his thoughts. Would this fragile flower dare to love a rough and reckless man like himself?
Emma glanced this way and that, studying the town. The polite nods of men in suspenders and women carrying baskets of goods made for a cozy atmosphere. Through her gloved hands, she could feel Frederick’s muscled arms, making her feel safe. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin were there, too, of course, following them around like proper chaperones.
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