The Lumberjacks' Ball (The Christy Lumber Camp Series Book 2)

by Carrie Fancett Pagels

  That had to be God speaking to her heart, because this folly wasn’t compatible with her intellect. She sighed as the driver urged the horses to merge behind a sporting light carriage.

  “I think that must belong to one of the summer folk.” Jo cocked her head, gazing at the jaunty carriage with fringe dangling from its cover.

  Rebecca shivered. “I wish summer would arrive soon.” She needed those tourists to keep coming across the straits to make purchases at her store and to bring her accounts out of the red.

  As Frenchie and Jo chatted in low tones, Rebecca found herself lulled by the gentle breeze, the creaking of the wagon wheels, and the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves. Before she knew it, they were deep in the fragrant piney woods, so heavily canopied that it almost seemed like dusk. Along they jostled, wildlife periodically crossing their path. The driver kept a gun nearby. “For bears and all,” he’d said. But Rebecca’s stomach sickened to think that a worse and more dangerous creature was Myron Peevey.

  “I’m sure glad my Pa is okay.” Jo shivered under the blanket, and Rebecca covered her gloved hand with her own. “I was trying to keep up a cheerful front but I’m not a very good actress.”

  She smiled at Jo, whose red-rimmed eyes announced that she’d been crying before their journey that day. “What did we tell you? All will be well.” As she hoped it would be, with Garrett.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come with us. I can’t even explain why I was so insistent you had to come.” Jo rubbed her head. “I’m not normally such a pesterer, and Tom was coming with me, too.”

  “Tom urged me to come, too.” As well as the Holy Spirit.

  Jo exhaled loudly. “I am so grateful Frenchie could give us a ride.”

  The older man grinned. “Wait till you see Pearl’s grandchildren. She’s so caught up with them that she can’t think straight, and she’s so grateful to your brother, Jo.”

  Rebecca leaned forward. “Mr. Brevort, who are these grandchildren?”

  A smile lit Jo’s pretty face. “Frenchie says that Amy and her brothers and sister are Pearl’s grandchildren—but she’d never seen them before.”

  “Never? That’s so sad.”

  “I know.”

  “But my little shop helper has a grandmother?”

  “Oui. And a grand-père, Miss Hart. Moi.” He gave the reins a little flick and the horses pulled swiftly down the rutted bone-jarring road. “And I’m guessin’ now that you must be Ox’s wife-to-be. Amy told us about you and your shop.”

  Rebecca’s breath stuck in her chest until the next hard bump got her lungs working again. Wife to be? As far as she knew, he planned to go on to the island without her. And she couldn’t bear that. She would face this challenge head on and not run.

  13

  “We need to talk, Pa.” Garrett wrung his cap in his hands, feeling like it, and he, would fall apart if he didn’t get this off his chest. “You know I didn’t want to disappoint you. And I’m grateful you’ve brought Sven in to help run the new camp.”

  “Have a seat.” Pa snaked his foot around the nearby chair and, hooking it, pulled it closer to where he sat. “Is this about Misty Fawn? You can’t blame yourself. And you shouldn’t blame God.”

  Garrett’s mouth went dry. “My beef with God started well before Misty Fawn and her children died. Before Ma passing.”

  Pa snapped open his tobacco box and filled his pipe. “About the time you saved Miss Daggenhart, I reckon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His father cocked his head at him. “Not wondering about your beliefs, are you? I can bear up under you leaving the lumber camps, but please don’t tell me you’re abandoning your faith. Just lost one of our new men to pneumonia, and I fear he’d abandoned his faith. Weighs on me heavy that he may not have gone to heaven.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. That’s somethin’ a parent always worries about with their children.” Pa tamped some tobacco down in his corncob pipe. “And I’ve continued to pray for you even in my own dark times after your mother died.”

  Garrett nodded and leaned forward. “I started praying for all of us again about that time, too.”

  His father arched his dark eyebrows at him. “Just because that boy almost killed the girl you had sights on, doesn’t mean God had it in for you or your loved ones.”

  “I know…” Garrett rocked onto the chair’s back legs. “And I need to talk with you about that.” He had to tell him about Rebecca and his intentions toward her and about his new job.

  “About how you finally could give up that job of thinking you could keep everyone safe? The job I never assigned to you and Moose, of watching all the time over Jo?”

  This wasn’t the job he planned on discussing. “Maybe I’ve finally given up that task. I know that God can conquer any enemy.” Even now, though, he worried that by being away from Rebecca he endangered her safety from Peevey, if the wretch was out there looking for her.

  “God can do that, son, not you—you don’t have to think your fists will find a solution to every giant stumbling through the land.”

  “Or every crazy murderous lumberjack out there—you’re right.” Thank God he and Richard had been in the right place at the right time.

  Where I wanted you.

  “Huh?” Pa looked around almost as though he’d heard the words, too. He frowned as he lit his pipe. “You think you’re the new sheriff up there or something? Can’t you just let others and God do their job?”

  Garrett had to grin at the rebuke—it was so true. “I guess I could trust God. He saved Daniel in the lion’s den.”

  “God did.”

  “Daniel trusted.”

  “Exactly.”

  The scent of tobacco smoke filled the tiny room and brought a memory. The merchants adjacent to Rebecca’s shop came out back, but there had never been any pipe smoke. Yet twice Garrett had found what looked like tobacco leaves at the mercantile and what Amy and Rebecca suggested was only tealeaves. What if they weren’t? He struggled to hold onto his peace. Dear God, if Rebecca is in danger, keep her safe.

  “God can seal the lions’ mouths and He can free those in chains.”

  God wouldn’t free someone like Peevey, but the prison system in Michigan had. Garrett had struggled with releasing his own shame over failing to help Misty Fawn and the children when they were so ill. He could rationalize that he and the crew were too busy with a big job bringing down trees. And the messenger had downplayed the severity of their illness. It wasn’t until later that Garrett realized the man held fast to prejudice against the Indians and couldn’t care less if another family of them died. If only Garrett had known. But by the time he did, Pa had warned the man to high tail it out of town lest Garrett get his hands on him. He should forgive that misbegotten, hard-hearted soul. And forgive himself and let God back into his life. It hadn’t been that God couldn’t reach him; it was that Garrett hadn’t invited God back into his heart—really into his life and not just via a preacher on Sundays. To her last breath, Ma had believed God’s will was best if they could only trust.

  “Gotta tell you, boy, I was right surprised to see you walk into camp holding hands with those children. I steeled myself for a confession from you even though I believed your Ma and I had done our best to bring you up right. I had to trust.”

  Garrett laughed. “Pa, now you can’t seriously think I’d hidden four kids off somewhere—especially with Misty Dawn having the two, that were to be mine.” Who had never had a chance.

  Inhaling the tobacco, Pa closed his eyes for a moment then fixed his dark gaze on Garrett. “Boy, I’ve seen more surprising things in my day. But that isn’t what we were talking about. I’ve seen God do some flat-out miracles, too. I thought for sure you children would be convicted in your faith by some of what has happened in this here camp.”

  “Like when we thought old Jacob was dead?”

  Pa’s eyes widened. “Doc said he was. Covered him up with a sheet.”

 
; “Then the next morning Jake showed up in the breakfast line and Ma fell out.”

  “Eight stitches on the back of her head.”

  They both grew silent for a moment. If God could restore a dead man—and He’d done so with Lazarus, too—then what couldn’t he do?

  A chill shot straight down his backbone. “Pa, I’ve been offered a wonderful chance on Mackinac Island.”

  Chuckling, Pa cupped his pipe in his hand. “Don’t reckon they have much lumber coming off that island. Especially since we hauled a bunch over for that fancy hotel a few years back—remember that?”

  “Yes, sir, and that hotel is where I’ll be employed.”

  “Tell me about it.” Grinning, Pa patted Garrett’s shoulder, much like his Irish grandfather always had. “Your Ma would be so proud of you. And I am, too.”

  “And Pa—that girl I saved.” His mouth suddenly became dry.

  “Pretty little thing—so sad…”

  “I’m gonna marry her.” If she accepts.

  “Do what?”

  “She lives in St. Ignace—has her own little shop that her pa set her up in.”

  “That ornery so-and-so—I don’t believe it. A stingier man I’ve never seen.”

  Was Rebecca lying? “She’s been running it nigh on two months—since I’ve been up there. I made her cabinets.”

  “Thought you were helping Cordelia.”

  “I did. I have.” This was going a little harder than he thought.

  “Speaking of which, I need to share something with you, too, son.”

  Garrett nodded, but he already knew what was coming. His father was clearly smitten with Cordelia’s sister. “Yes, sir, but I need you to know I plan to marry her as soon as possible.”

  Someone rapped on the door. Sven ducked his head inside. “More company, ja? Come see.”

  Outside, their wretched old dray pulled alongside the cook shack. Frenchie was back with Jo, Tom, and a lady whose fancy red jacket stood out like a drowning squirrel in an apple barrel, her golden brown hair trailing curls over one shoulder and swept up under a fancy little cap that dipped over her eyes. Rebecca. And although that little coat revealed her womanly figure in ways that a man should find pleasing, an ugly beast of jealousy attacked Garrett right there in the center of the yard. This was his woman.

  ****

  How amazing that after years of being stuck in a back room by herself, God had called Rebecca out into this group of friends. Tom offered his arms after he’d assisted Jo down from the dray. As her feet met the ground, a tall blond man gaped at them and ran to a cabin next to the cookhouse, where they’d stopped. The scents of roast pork, biscuits, and apple and cinnamon wafted toward them, making her mouth water.

  A door opened at a hut across the clearing and Amelia emerged, her arms wrapped around a white-haired woman.

  “That’s Pearl.” Jo pointed.

  The elderly woman clutched a toddler and the hand of a little girl. Another boy trailed after them as they headed toward the cookhouse.

  “Rebecca!” In the other direction, Garrett ran toward them, shaking out a large Mackinaw coat as he did so.

  Reaching her, Garrett hoisted her up under her arms and spun her around and around, like a small child, the Mackinaw whirling over her shoulder. When he set her down, she was dizzy and leaned into him, pressing her face against his broad chest.

  He wrapped the heavy wool coat around her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I love you, Rebecca Jane.” He pulled the jacket up around her shoulders.

  The chocolate brown of his eyes disappeared into the broad band of black as his pupils widened. Right there, in front of everyone, he kissed her, his lips warm and firm over hers. Another presence joined them, warming them. Two shall become one. Rebecca found herself lost in the intensity of emotion that flowed through her. Garrett gently broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

  He pressed his bristled cheek against hers but then stepped away, leaving cool air between them and a promise in his eyes of more kisses to come. He lifted a curl that trailed down her bodice. “I like your hair like this.”

  She shivered at his touch. “I thought it was time I stopped hiding.”

  “I’m glad. You’re far too lovely a lady to keep in those drab colors.”

  Frowning, she made to shrug off the wool coat.

  “Oh no, for now, though, I want you hiding those curves of yours beneath a looser jacket.” He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “We may be in a family lumber camp, but we’ve got plenty of single men whose eyes are perfectly fine.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. But she’d not blame herself for any attention she received. Her days of allowing Myron to destroy her confidence were over. She removed the jacket and passed it back to Garrett. “I’m responsible for my behavior as they are for their own. Just because they are lumberjacks gives them no cause to believe they can ogle me.” Or harm her.

  His lower lip puckered. “You’re right.” He drew in a deep breath but didn’t exhale the sigh he sometimes did when she frustrated him. Movement behind him caught her attention. He swiveled around, and then wrapped an arm around her.

  “I want you to meet…”

  She’d recognize Mr. Christy anywhere. Striding toward them, sunlight glistened on silver strands that now streaked his dark hair, but he was the same broad-shouldered, square-jawed lumber camp boss who had frequented the mercantile all those years ago.

  “Why, this must be Janie Daggenhart all grown up.” He grinned at her, his eyes almost identical to Garrett’s.

  “Good to see you, sir.” And it was. This man had brought up two boys who had saved her life.

  Mr. Christy directed his attention to Garrett. “You couldn’t have picked a prettier girl to marry.”

  Marry? All he’d said was that he loved her. Her cheeks heated as Garrett winked at her and nodded. That was his idea of a marriage proposal? She widened her eyes and gave him a tight smile she hoped conveyed her meaning—they’d speak later.

  Jo cleared her throat and her father winked before he hugged her. “And Tom here has my beautiful daughter.”

  “I’m Sven.” The blond man pointed to the cookhouse. “Ja, and I’ve got a lovely girl, too, and she’s in there cooking for all of us.”

  Her sweetheart laughed. “We’re all blessed with beauties.” Garrett pulled Rebecca closer. “I’ve got a wonderful job on the island and even a little place with room enough for a small family.”

  She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but having him simply state what he had set up and then dictating to her would never work. Rebecca tapped him on his flannel-covered chest. “What about my store?”

  He puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. “Why don’t we let God figure that out for us?”

  Mr. Christy cocked his head at them. “Those are some pretty wise words, son.”

  “Thanks, Pa.”

  A stream of bearded lumberjacks began to flow from a large rectangular building, across the yard, toward them. Cat calls and whistles ensued.

  “Ox!” “Jo!” “Tom!”

  In minutes, they were surrounded by a huge group of men and Rebecca’s breath caught in her chest. She wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. Thank God. Thank you, Jesus. Surely it couldn’t be true. Going into a lumber camp hadn’t made Myron the evil man he’d become. That was his own doing.

  14

  Whoops of laughter accompanied the wild dancing in the lumber camp as Tom Jeffries played his fiddle. This was no full-blown Lumberjacks’ Ball, but the spontaneous dance was the most fun Rebecca could remember having. Garrett swung her round and round until she was so dizzy she tugged at his hands and pulled him to the side near one of the small campfires that surrounded the circle.

  “I have to rest.”

  “I’m winded, too,” he confessed as he plunked down on a large chunk of log, fashioned into a stool. He patted the one beside him and she sat.

  Amelia ran over and tried to dra
g Sven up and away from Ruth because he’d sat out the last two dances. As the big Swedish man and her little blonde helper hurried out into the clearing, Rebecca exhaled in contentment. This seemed so right. Amelia’s grandmother and her husband joined them, amidst another round of hooting and hollering. Frenchie Brevort gave a toothless grin as Pearl lifted her skirts and performed a jig around him. Amelia imitated as Sven clapped in time to the music.

  Garrett took her hand in his, the warmth a comfort to her. “Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

  She cocked her head at him. “If I truly am your sweetheart, then yes, I am.”

  Laughing, he bent and kissed her cheek. “You’ve always been the one for me, Rebecca Jane Daggenhart.”

  She met his direct gaze, so full of promise, firelight flickering in his chocolate eyes.

  He squeezed her hand. “If I have my way, you’ll be Rebecca Jane Christy or just Mrs. Garrett Christy soon enough.”

  Slowly, she drew in a breath filled with the scent of wood smoke, Garrett’s hair tonic, her own perfume, and hot apple cider, which heated over a nearby fire. “Maybe it’s okay to put Jane back in my name. It took a long time to get everyone calling me by my first name.”

  “Janie was a right special girl—part of who you are and nothing at all to be ashamed of.” He placed two calloused fingers beneath her chin. “Look at me and tell me you can leave that behind you and let us have a new life—the one I believe God planned from the beginning—until satan got in our way.”

  “In our way?” She wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “I had a hankering to court you for a long time before I asked your pa. And then you sent me right out your mercantile door when I asked you out.” He laughed now, but she knew he’d been hurt by what he’d erroneously believed to be true—that she’d rejected him.

  “Trust me, if I misunderstand you again, I’m going to get one of Jo’s wooden spoons and I’ll chase you down and threaten you with it if you don’t clarify what you mean.”

  Suddenly, he drew her into his strong arms, and planted a lingering hot kiss on her mouth. Everything seemed to disappear except for him, and her, and this embrace and kiss. He tasted of the cider they’d enjoyed earlier and of the sweet promise of love fulfilled.