“Yes, sir. He’s bein’ real good.”
“You’re sure?”
Tess noted the way Echo’s gaze avoided Jake’s. The sudden change in his tone surprised her. It was sharper and more insistent.
“I’m sure.”
Jake glanced at Tess and nodded. “I’ll be dropping by occasionally to see how you’re progressing. You rest up.”
His gaze focused on the third finger of her left hand once again, and she wondered why he was so mindful of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a ring. A moment later the door closed behind him. “My, isn’t he nice.” Tess felt a sort of emptiness in the room after he had left.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s a real gentleman,” Echo agreed.
“I’m sure his wife must be very proud of him.”
“Big Say isn’t married.”
“He isn’t?”
“No, ma’am, but there are more than a few who would like to have him.”
“Echo, I thought his name was Jake, so why do you call him Big Say?”
“We all call him that sometimes, but that’s what his men call him because he’s the boss.”
She turned to fetch the tray as Tess settled her head on the pillow, wincing slightly from the pain. She could imagine the number of women who would like to have Jake Lannigan. She didn’t find the thought all that disturbing herself. She’d never met a man as rugged or as overpoweringly male as this big lumberjack. Or at least she couldn’t remember if she had. And he seemed good—perhaps he was even a man of God?
That was most important. She wasn’t as good as she’d like to be, but she instinctively felt that she tried her best to obey the Good Book, and the man she would love would have to do the same.
Such silly thoughts. She was thinking about love and she didn’t even know her own name. That blow had not just knocked her senseless… it had apparently knocked the sense right out of her.
6
By yimminy, vhere is dat voman!”
Sven Templeton paced back and forth in Jake’s office late Saturday afternoon, furious that Tess Wakefield still hadn’t arrived.
“Doesn’t she know dat Sven Templeton is a busy man? I can’t spend half my life running to Vakefield Timber to see if she has finally gotten herself here. If dat young voman vants to sell her lumber company, den she had better be gettin’ here!”
Leaving André to handle the volatile little Swede, Jake kept his head down and worked at his desk. Fedelia Yardley had been here for two weeks. She was finally well enough to move from Doc’s house to her own quarters.
Was the woman Fedelia Yardley after all? Her mention of the lack of a ring had caught his attention that first morning he had visited her. If she was Tess Wakefield, she surely would have been sporting an engagement ring. Even though the river’s current was swift, she hadn’t been in it that long. He didn’t think it would have stripped a ring from her finger.
“I do not know what to tell you, Sven,” André said evenly. “I believe that Miss Wakefield will be here any day, but the weather has turned bad early. That could account for her absence.”
“Vell,” Sven jammed his hat back on his head, “if she ever decides to show up, tell her she has Sven Templeton in a pickle, by yimminy!” He slammed out of the office.
“I do not blame him for being upset,” André muttered as he moved back to his desk. “What is keeping Rutherford’s granddaughter? The weather is certainly a factor, but she should have been here by now.”
Jake sent him a noncommittal glance and changed the subject. The longer it took for Miss Wakefield to show, the longer it would be till the business was sold. “Did you order the dynamite?”
André picked up a logbook and scanned the columns. “Yes, fifty pounds on Monday.”
“That should do it.”
“I do not understand this, Jake.” André snapped the book shut. “You would think if she was so eager to sell Wakefield Timber that she would be here by now.”
Shrugging, Jake rose and reached for his mackinaw. “I’m in no hurry to see Sven get the property, are you?”
Sven Templeton lived by the round forty rule: Cut your own forty acres and all the forties around it. Jake had been pushing for legislation to make that dishonest practice illegal, but it was slow in coming.
“I cannot think of anyone who is eager to see Sven get his greedy hands on Wakefield Timber,” André said, scratching his head. “But I still find it strange that Rutherford’s granddaughter would delay for so long.” He paused, frowning. “Say, mon ami, you do not suppose the other woman might have been her on that wagon instead of Burl Sutter’s fiancée?”
Jake headed for the door. “Has Burl’s woman arrived yet?”
“No.” André chuckled. “And because we have not found a body, Burl is still a little…uneasy, shall we say? I think he’s afraid it might not have been her. He admitted he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing the night he asked the lady from East Saginaw to marry him.” André glanced up. “Going somewhere, Big Say?”
“I promised Doc that I would see Miss Yardley to her new quarters.”
André’s brows lifted. “Is she well enough to leave the doctor’s care? She should not push her recovery.”
“Doc says she’s fully recovered except for her memory. Her fingers are still tender, but she’s healed nicely.”
Leaning back in his chair, André locked his hands behind his head, propped his feet upon his desk, and smiled. “Now, there is a beautiful woman, this magnificent schoolteacher.”
“If you say so.” Jake had bigger problems at hand. The nagging thought that everyone could be mistaken wouldn’t let up. What if it had been Tess Wakefield on that wagon? The notion had crossed his mind more than once the past couple of weeks, but there was absolutely no proof she was Rutherford’s granddaughter, and there was proof she was Fedelia Yardley—if you could call a couple of bags with her initials and a few textbooks proof.
He should probably make the new telegraph a main concern. “How’s the work coming on the telegraph line?” He’d saddled André with so much extra work the past couple of weeks that finishing the line had become low priority.
“Slow. The workload and winds are so heavy we’ve been unable to make much progress on it.” The Frenchman’s grin widened. “Ah, you are avoiding my question. Do you claim you have not noticed the new schoolteacher’s beauty, my friend?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Jake rested his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t forget to put a couple of icers on the new south tote road tonight.”
“This I have already done.”
Even as they spoke, the requested sled was being harnessed to a team. Its square, strongly built wooden tank could hold up to a hundred gallons of water, allowing the teamsters to ice the sleigh road at night, making it easier for the work crews to slide the logs out of the forest the following day and for the men to get around.
“I shouldn’t be long.” Jake adjusted his wool cap, wishing he could stay in the warm office. Though the sun was shining, the day was raw and bitterly cold.
“I am happy to offer my services and show Miss Yardley to her quarters,” André said, still grinning.
“There’s no reason I can’t.”
“Where will you put her?”
“I had a couple of men fix up a small area this morning. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable.” Comfortable enough, anyway. The Mensons had asked for different accommodations for the new teacher.
“Ah, oui? And where is that?”
Jake avoided his friend’s eyes. “Does it matter?” The question went unanswered when Bernice opened the door to the office and stormed in.
“Oh, good. There you are,” she said crisply.
Jake shot a glance at the still smiling André and then focused back on the woman. “I’m sorry, but I’m on my way out—”
The substitute schoolteacher ignored Jake’s attempt at a hasty departure. “I assume you’re on your way to assist Miss Yardley in getting settled?�
�
“Yes, Bernice—”
“Good.” She removed her gloves. “Then Miss Yardley will be able to assume her teaching duties Monday morning.”
“If the doctor—”
“I’ve already spoken to the doctor. He informs me the young woman is in robust health.”
Jake eased a step backward when Bernice took two steps forward. He was trapped.
“I have done more than my share by consenting to teach these past two weeks, thereby allowing Miss Yardley sufficient time to recuperate.”
“Yes, Bernice,” Jake repeated, trying to be patient.
“Consequently, I shall expect to be officially relieved of my teaching duties this afternoon at the end of the school day.”
“If Miss Yardley is prepared—”
“Of course Miss Yardley is prepared! She’s a teacher, isn’t she?”
Jake shrugged. What André said earlier had struck a nerve. He realized he’d been trying to convince himself the woman couldn’t be anyone but Fedelia Yardley, but the truth was she could be Tess Wakefield. From the beginning he’d noticed the woman’s fine looks and her slight resemblance to Rutherford Wakefield.
He almost grinned. If she was Tess Wakefield, he was fixing to house her in a place no woman would ever accept. He felt a sharp poke on his shoulder that drew him from his thoughts.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, Bernice.”
“Then it’s settled. I assume you have provided comfortable quarters for the new teacher?”
“I’ve done my best.” Jake said. He should amend that statement to say that he’d done the best his conscience would allow, under the circumstances.
“Very well. I’ll be running along. I want to make my Hubert a nice supper to celebrate. Venison stew always brightens his day.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Suddenly, Bernice was inches from Jake’s face, wagging her finger at him. He knew a storm was brewing and drew back defensively.
“This afternoon is the end, Jake Lannigan.”
“Yes, Bernice. This afternoon.”
Straightening, she smiled. “Thank you.” She began pulling on her gloves while she walked to the door. “I feel sorry for our dear Miss Yardley, you know.”
“Oh?” Jake had never known Bernice to feel pity toward anyone.
“Once she spends a week in the classroom with those hooligans, I suspect she’ll develop an affinity with the barracuda.”
Jake lifted an expectant brow. “The barracuda?”
“Yes.” Bernice snapped the door open and her eyes met his. “They eat their young.”
7
Slowly turning in front of the mirror, Tess’s eyes were fixed in horror on the dress she had just put on. It was so drab—and uninspired.
“Mercy me,” she murmured. She couldn’t imagine anyone actually choosing this color or material.
“The dress and coat you were wearing when André pulled you from the river were muddy and badly torn,” Echo said as she folded a pile of discarded dresses and placed them back in the valises. “I tried to repair the garments, but I’m afraid they ended up in the scrap pile. You lost your shoes too. You weren’t wearing any when André brought you to Doc’s.”
“Hmm…” Tess studied her reflection. “Do you favor this color, Echo?” Though the dress fit well enough, the fabric brought to mind a garment of dirt. Dirt with buttons.
“I…I can’t say I care for that particular shade.” Turning back to the bed, Echo said softly, “I’m sure going to miss you, ma’am.”
“Why should you miss me? I’ll still be here.” Tess wasn’t sure where her new quarters would be, but she was confident Jake Lannigan would make sure she was comfortable. He had been such a gentleman the past two weeks, stopping by to visit at least three times a week. Sneaking a final glance at the mirror, she edged away.
“Oh, I know I’ll still be seeing you, but it won’t be the same as coming here every day to take care of you.” Echo’s voice trailed off shyly.
Over the past couple of weeks she and the young girl had formed a solid bond, and she was beginning to believe Echo had been starved for friendship. The other married women in camp were older and had children. Echo and Waite had none.
Echo mentioned that Waite Burne was fifteen years her senior. From what Tess gathered, he was a possessive and jealous man who wanted his young wife to spend her time and energies on pleasing only him. Echo, being a gentle, simple girl, had no doubt been eager to oblige, yet she suspected that the days Echo had spent with her had made the young wife realize how much she wanted companionship with a woman close to her own age.
Tess crossed the room, put her arm around her new friend, and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other every day. Why, you’re the best—and only—friend I have, Echo.” The girl was so slim that Tess could feel her bony shoulders protruding from her slender body.
She offered a smile. “And you’re my only friend, ma’am. Until you came here, I rarely visited with the other women. Waite isn’t a churchgoer, so we don’t socialize much.”
“Now, haven’t I asked you not to call me ma’am?” Tess made a playful face at her. “Friends call each other by their given names.” She sighed. Her given name still sounded so odd to her. “Please, call me Fedelia.” A timid but proud smile was threatening to overcome Echo’s usually serious features. She was such a sweet girl.
“Yes, ma’am...Fedelia. I surely will.”
The young woman had been a virtual godsend since the accident. Tess had been confused and weepy at times, terrified at others, but Echo had been her strong and reassuring anchor over the past couple of weeks. She had made Tess believe her words of encouragement, or she didn’t think she would have made it through the long days and nights of uncertainty.
Echo went to the window and peered out.
“Big Say is coming up the trail.”
“Now?” Tess turned away from the mirror. Something about her clothes was so puzzling. “He can’t be! It’s too early!”
Every time the camp foreman came to see her, she grew more enamored of him. Though he rarely smiled, on the occasions when he did her pulse thumped as wildly as a trapped moth.
“He can’t see me in this dress!” Glancing around the room, she spied the two half-filled valises. “Quick, Echo, hand me another garment!” Even as she said it, she knew from sorting through the valises that everything she owned was as unbecoming and drab as the dress she was wearing.
Echo rushed to retrieve something else, and a moment later the brown dress was hastily discarded in favor of a dark green. This color added an unbecoming yellow tinge to her skin, but she had little choice. She pinched her cheeks to add a bit of pink.
Jake’s knock sounded at the door. Echo glanced to Tess for permission to answer, and she hurriedly nodded her consent. She waited for the young woman to open the door, but Echo’s hand paused on the knob, her gaze anxiously skimming Tess’s newest garment. “Ma’am…”
“Fedelia. Now, we mustn’t keep Mr. Lannigan waiting!” Her hands came up to nervously fuss with her hair. “Oh, dear, I do so want to make a good impression.”
The camp foreman could be a bit distant, and today Tess wanted him to show her even the tiniest sign that he recognized her as a woman.
Echo obediently opened the door. “Afternoon, Big Say.”
Tess barely noticed the gust of icy air that followed Jake into the room. His mere presence made her feel warm and safe.
“Good afternoon, ladies.”
“Mr. Lannigan, how nice to see you.” She swept across the room graciously and extended her hand. “I’m afraid you’ve caught us dawdling.” Giving him what she thought might be her prettiest smile, she confessed, “I hope you won’t be inconvenienced, but I’m not quite finished packing.”
He took the hand she offered and bowed from the waist. “I’m in no hurry. Please, take all the time you need.”
As usual, the deep, rich timbre
of his voice sent her pulse flapping. When he straightened, she was startled to see his gaze discreetly fasten on the front of her dress and then skip away.
Ugly. The garment was just plain ugly. Where was her flare? Her sense of taste? Why didn’t she have one pretty thing to wear?
She soothed her wounded vanity with the satisfaction that at last she had captured his eye. “Aren’t we fortunate to have such a lovely afternoon to make our move?” She allowed the smallest hint of flirtation to seep into her voice.
He nodded. “The weather could have been worse.”
“I hope I’m not keeping you? I know a man like you must have better things to do than see me to my living quarters.”
“No, I’m looking forward to it.” He flashed a smile. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a moment.” She returned his smile, pleased he’d said he wanted to escort her.
“I’ll wait outside.”
His gaze briefly skimmed her again before he turned away. A moment later he opened the door and stepped through it. Leaning against the closed door, her eyes drifted shut and a long, wistful sigh escaped her. “Isn’t he just about the most handsome man you have ever seen?” Being in the same room with this big man turned her insides to a quivering mass.
Feeling as if she were very young again, Tess clasped her fingers around her arms and whirled around the room. Had she ever reacted this way before? No, it was not possible. Jake Lannigan was not like any man she’d ever met, she was sure of it. “Do you think he noticed me, Echo?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure.”
“Really noticed me?”
Echo nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She stopped twirling and felt her face flush. “Honestly?” To have a man like Jake Lannigan look at her—really look at her the way a man looks at a woman who has seriously piqued his interest—well, it would make the past two frustrating weeks worthwhile. Losing her memory had been unfortunate, but she wondered if it was possible that the accident happened for a divine purpose. Had God sent her here to find a husband?
When Love Comes My Way Page 5