Would-Be Wilderness Wife

by Regina Scott

  “Drew, is it now? Sure’n if you’ve no use for him, you won’t mind me batting my eyes in his direction.”

  Catherine had known Maddie was just teasing. Aboard ship and since arriving in Seattle, several fellows had sidled up to the redhead, but she’d never allowed them to be more than friends. Catherine didn’t know whether Maddie was waiting for the right man or whether she simply had no interest in settling down. Certainly she was one of the most industrious women Catherine had met—doing laundry for men in the boardinghouses and hotels and saving money to open her own bakery. Perhaps that was enough for her. Given Catherine’s own views on marriage, it had seemed presumptive to ask.

  Now they stood beside the group, and Catherine recognized several of the fellows who served as storekeepers or businessmen in the fledgling city.

  “Mr. McCormick,” she greeted the deputy. “Gentlemen. Please tell me you didn’t come all this way on my account.”

  Deputy McCormick nodded to her, hands gripping his horse’s reins. “Just doing our duty, ma’am. Everything all right here?”

  Catherine smiled at them all as Maddie went to retrieve the reins of her horse from Drew. She saw no need to tell them about Levi’s hand in her transportation. With his mother ill and work waiting to be done, Drew hardly needed more trouble. “Everything is fine. Mr. Wallin and his youngest brother came to town yesterday seeking medical assistance. I was available to help.”

  Deputy McCormick frowned. He had the oddest colored eyes, dark and hard, like rocks at the bottom of a stream. She fought another shiver and knew this time it had nothing to do with the cool morning air.

  “You left mighty quick,” he pointed out, “without a word to anyone.”

  Catherine caught Drew’s gaze. From the way he shoved his hands in his pockets, she could tell he was struggling not to join the conversation. She shook her head slightly, trying to warn him. She appreciated his help with the deputy, but she didn’t want to see him run afoul of the law.

  “I’m afraid I did dash off,” she confessed to Deputy McCormick. “When I hear someone is ill, I tend to act. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to delay if it was your wife or mother lying at death’s door.”

  “No, ma’am, of course not,” the deputy agreed while some of the men shifted on their feet as if Catherine’s words had made them uncomfortable. “But when our womenfolk disappear like that, we tend to worry.”

  “Especially when there’s so few of us, I’m thinking,” Maddie put in, patting her horse’s neck.

  “I’m very sorry to have worried you,” Catherine said, keeping her smile in place from long practice. If she could remain calm while delivering the news to a family of death’s final decision, she certainly wasn’t going to faint under the deputy’s hard gaze. “I promise to let someone know if I set out on my own again.”

  The deputy nodded. “All right, then. We’ll be off. Look out for yourself, Wallin. Ma’am.” He tipped his hat to Catherine.

  As the men mounted, Maddie turned to Drew. “Would you be a darling, Mr. Wallin, and help me back on this horse? Sure’n it’s a wily beast just waiting to trample me.”

  Catherine thought Drew might cup his hands to give Maddie a leg up, but he swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the saddle.

  “Well, now,” Maddie said with a grin as she adjusted her seat. “That’s more like it. I hope to be seeing more of you, Mr. Wallin, when you come to bring my Catie-girl back.”

  Drew inclined his head, but Deputy McCormick’s face darkened. “Let’s ride,” he barked, and his men wheeled their horses and set off, Maddie with an airy wave over her head to Catherine.

  “Thank you,” Drew said as the noise faded among the trees. “Levi’s already received two warnings from the sheriff for reckless behavior in town. If you had told them the truth, he might have ended up in jail this time.”

  “I did tell the truth,” Catherine informed him, taking a deep breath. Her palms were damp, and she wiped them on her skirt. “I came here to treat your mother. I thought you were going to wake me last night to tend to her.”

  She nearly winced as her statement came out closer to a scold. Here she’d thought herself in control of her emotions, yet the entire incident with the deputy sheriff seemed to have thrown her off balance. Or maybe it was Maddie’s outrageous flirting. Was her friend actually interested in Drew Wallin? Certainly, he was a handsome figure of a man, heroic even. Perhaps he was just the sort of fellow Maddie had been waiting for. She should be delighted for Maddie, but the thought made her feel as if someone had hollowed out her stomach.

  To her surprise, his smile grew, peeling away the years from his face, brightening his eyes. “There was no need to call you. You did it. Ma’s well.”

  Her heart leaped, but immediately she chided herself. She couldn’t give in to such optimism, not until she had seen the lady herself and could verify Mrs. Wallin’s recovery.

  A humming from the woods heralded Beth’s arrival. Today she wore a dress of blue gingham the color of her eyes. Seeing Catherine and Drew, she hurried up to them.

  “Why are you out here? Who’s with Ma? I thought we had to keep watch over her.”

  “Your brother says she’s much better,” Catherine explained. “I was just about to confirm that.” She turned for the house, with Beth and Drew close behind. She could feel their excitement, but she refused to let it influence her judgment. Her own eagerness was danger enough for that.

  Once in the loft, Catherine sat beside her patient and checked Mrs. Wallin’s pulse, her eyes, her breathing and her temperature. Then she sat back with a smile.

  “Much better,” she proclaimed. “I’d say another few days and you’ll be back on your feet.”

  Mrs. Wallin beamed at her. “Because of you, Miss Stanway. Thank you!”

  “Yes, Miss Stanway, thank you!” Beth threw herself into Catherine’s arms and hugged her tight. “You gave me back my mother!”

  Catherine felt tears pricking her eyes. This is why I practice medicine, Lord—to help people. Thank You for this healing!

  Disengaging from Beth, she glanced up to meet Drew’s gaze. His eyes were overly bright, and he hurriedly looked away as if determined to keep her from seeing the emotions brimming in them.

  “I suppose you’ll be leaving us, then,” he said.

  Beth leaned back, and she and her mother exchanged glances. Mrs. Wallin drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, I’m sure I won’t be myself again if Miss Stanway leaves us now.”

  Beth took Catherine’s hand. “And I was so hoping we might have time to chat, Miss Stanway.”

  Drew glanced back, eyes narrowing. Did he see the manipulation as clearly as Catherine did? They needn’t have bothered. She knew she had work to do before she left.

  “I’ll stay a while longer,” she told them all, and Beth and Mrs. Wallin grinned at each other. “I want to make sure there are no complications.”

  Mrs. Wallin leaned back against the pillows with a satisfied nod. “Very sensible.”

  “And I also want to track this fever to its source,” Catherine continued.

  Drew frowned. “Its source?”

  “I thought chills brought on sickness,” Beth said, glancing between them. “You know, you stand outside in wet clothes or you bathe in cold water like the lake.”

  Mrs. Wallin stiffened. “I have never bathed in the lake in my life, young lady, and you know it!”

  “Typhoid fever is often caused by food or water that came in contact with something it shouldn’t,” Catherine informed Beth. “Until we discover what made your mother sick, all of you could be in danger. I’m not leaving until I know we aren’t spreading the disease any further.”

  She meant the comment for a warning, but the smiles on Beth and Mrs. Wallin’s faces were as deep as the frown on Drew’s. Just what were the ladies plann
ing that they were so determined for Catherine to stay?

  Chapter Seven

  Drew didn’t like the way his mother and sister were looking at each other. He didn’t think they knew about Simon’s idea that one of the Wallin men must marry Miss Stanway. But if the Wallin women had hit on the same notion, he was doomed.

  Best to focus them on something else. “So you think our food or water is contaminated,” he challenged Catherine.

  For a woman who didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, she could look remarkably determined. Her chin came up, and her blue eyes flashed like lightning.

  His mother was nearly as indignant. “Contaminated food?” she sputtered, ribbons on her nightcap dancing about her pale face in her agitation. “What have you all been doing on my stove?”

  “Nothing, Ma!” Beth cried. “I promise! It can’t be the food. We all eat the same things. You were the only one to get sick.”

  Catherine nodded. “Very well, but I imagine you all drink the same water, too.”

  “Not entirely,” Drew said. “The hillside above us is littered with springs. Simon has a pipe from one coming in to his cabin. I tapped another for the pump on the side of my cabin. Ma is the only one still drawing from the spring Pa favored. It’s closest to the house.”

  “But it’s closest to the barn, too,” Beth reminded him. “That’s how we water the animals. None of them got sick.”

  “They wouldn’t,” Catherine said. “Some diseases are unique to humans.”

  “Well, Levi and I still live here,” Beth pointed out. “Why didn’t we get sick?”

  “Half the time Levi is out with us,” Drew said. “And you did get sick a while ago.”

  Beth sobered.

  “It seems we must examine your spring,” Catherine said.

  “After you eat,” his mother insisted, leaning back against the head of the bed as if satisfied her cooking had been exonerated. “You can bring water from Drew’s spring if you’re concerned about mine, but I won’t have a guest in my house or any of my children starving.”

  “I’ll cook them something, Ma,” Beth said, hopping up out of her seat. “Drew can help.”

  Although he didn’t mind helping, he didn’t like the smile that crossed his mother’s face or the way she glanced at Catherine. Who knew what the two would get up to if he left them alone for too long?

  “We need more wood for the fire,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  His mother’s smile widened.

  “You’re in trouble,” Beth said as he followed her down the stairs. “I know that look on Ma’s face. She wants something, and I think it’s Miss Stanway as a daughter-in-law.”

  “Miss Stanway might have something to say about that,” Drew replied, heading for the door. He glanced back in time to see his sister shake her head.

  “It doesn’t matter what Miss Stanway says. It doesn’t matter what you say. And Simon has the least say of all.”

  So she had heard his brother’s outrageous demands last night. “Don’t start, Beth,” Drew warned.

  “Oh, it’s far too late,” his sister predicted. “You know that when Ma makes up her mind about something, it’s going to happen. If I were you, I’d talk to the Reverend Bagley about a church date.” Humming to herself, she disappeared into the back room.

  First his brothers and now his mother. Were they all mad? Drew stepped onto the front porch and glanced around the yard in the cool morning air. A dozen projects called for his attention, from a loose shingle on the barn roof to the field waiting for the plow. Did his family really think he had time for a wife?

  Well, they could scheme all they liked. He knew what must be done. Another day to make sure Ma had recovered and to track down this sickness, and Catherine Stanway would be out of his life. All he had to do was hold firm to his convictions.

  And try to forget the warmth of her cradled against his chest.

  * * *

  “He’s a good man, you know,” Mrs. Wallin said after Drew and Beth had left the room. “Proved up a hundred and sixty acres all on his own, and raised his brothers and Beth when their father died.”

  Catherine kept herself busy tucking the covers around her patient’s waist. “Your family is certainly to be commended, making a home in the wilderness.”

  Mrs. Wallin caught her hand. “But he doesn’t have a home.”

  Catherine frowned. “He most certainly does. I slept in it last night.”

  Mrs. Wallin shook her head. “He has a house. That’s not a home. The Bible says a man is to grow up and start his own family. How can Drew do that when he won’t let go of this one?”

  From somewhere deep inside her, anger pushed its way out of Catherine’s mouth. “Why would you want him to let go? He’s trying to protect you all. I wish my father and brother had had that much sense. Maybe I wouldn’t be alone now.”

  She turned away from the bed and went to stand by the fire. Her breath shuddered, and she forced herself to draw in the air, then let it out slowly. What was wrong with her? Mrs. Wallin had every right to be concerned for her son’s future. That was what families did—care for each other.

  But why didn’t my father think about me, Lord? Was it really so important that he and Nathan had to go and fight? Or was I such a termagant of a daughter and sister they couldn’t wait to escape me?

  She heard the bedclothes rustle, and then the creak of the floor as feet padded toward her. Turning, she found Mrs. Wallin beside her. A tall woman, she gazed down at Catherine, face twisted as if she were in pain or feeling Catherine’s.

  “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry,” she said. She drew Catherine close and held her gently. “It’s terrible to lose a loved one. Why, it cuts the heart right out of you.”

  Tears burned Catherine’s eyes. As if of their own volition, her arms came up and she hugged the woman closer. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Mrs. Wallin held her out and met her gaze, her face now stern. “Of course you will. Things will never be quite the same, though. Tragedy changes a body. How long has your family been gone?”

  Catherine counted the months and was surprised by the answer. “Just over a year.” That seemed like such a short time when it felt as if she’d been grieving forever.

  “Well, then.” Mrs. Wallin squeezed her shoulders. “Give yourself more time to accustom yourself to the changes. You left everything you knew to come to a strange place, with no friends or family waiting for you. That takes some adjusting, I know. And there will always be a part of you that misses them, no matter what else happens.”

  She glanced up at the mantel, and Catherine saw a daguerreotype there of a sturdy-looking man. He had Drew’s eyes, Simon’s rock of a chin and Levi’s cocky grin. Mrs. Wallin rubbed a hand down the worn silver frame, and Catherine felt her sigh.

  That was entirely enough of this sentimentality. She had to remember her purpose for being here, and it wasn’t to wallow in the pain of her past. She turned her patient toward the bed with a smile.

  “Thank you. I needed that reminder. Now, let’s get you back under the covers. Despite what I told Beth, sudden changes in temperature aren’t good for someone recovering from an illness. I want you cozy again.”

  Mrs. Wallin allowed herself to be tucked back into bed, but the smile on her face told Catherine that the older woman was humoring her. Catherine suspected Drew’s mother was feeling far better than she let on. But for all the lady wanted to be up and back to her usual routine, Catherine didn’t want her to do too much and suffer a relapse. Nor did she want the illness to affect anyone else. And that meant she had work to do.

  So after a breakfast of eggs, biscuits with honey and apple cider, she directed Beth on the types of food that would help her mother convalesce—beef tea, calf’s foot jelly and honeysuckle conserve. Then
she convinced Drew to accompany her on a survey of the Landing.

  Between the dim light last night when she’d arrived and the need to appease the deputy sheriff this morning, she hadn’t taken a good look at the Wallin property until now. The main house sat facing west, with its back to the lake. Now she could see the water, sparkling through the trees in the spring sunlight. It was the same deep shade of blue as Beth’s and Levi’s eyes. Hills rose sharply on the three sides, thick with dense stands of deep green fir and the reddish bark of cedar.

  “There’s a good-size stream north of us,” Drew said as if he’d noticed the direction of her gaze as they stood between his cabin and his parents’. “That’s where Pa got the name for the property. The ground slopes, making it a good place to land canoes or start logs on their way to the Sound.”

  “But you don’t drink from that stream,” Catherine surmised, turning for the barn.

  “Only when we’re working out that way,” Drew admitted, long legs moving him past her. “It’s too far to carry the water for the house or the stock.” The shadows of the barn swallowed up his tall frame.

  Catherine followed him inside. The barn was of weathered wood, with a pitched roof of silvered cedar shingles turning green with moss. The upper part was open at each end, and as she looked, swallows darted past the triangle of sky.

  Stalls and pens lined up along the packed-earth aisle, many with hinged doors allowing access to fenced pasture.

  “Simon and the others took the oxen out this morning to clear away some brush,” Drew told her. “And Beth turned out the goats, horses and pigs.” He glanced around at the harnesses and tools hanging from the walls, the rough-hewn troughs of fresh water.

  Catherine opened the lid on the large bin near a square of planked floor that somehow seemed out of place. The bin was empty, but it smelled of something dry, nutty.

  “That’s the grain bin,” he told her. “And the threshing floor beyond it. But Simon and the others help with that. With all of us around, Ma generally doesn’t need to come out here anymore. I can’t see how anything in the barn could have made her sick.”