Love's Story

by Christner, Dianne; Billerbeck, Kristin;

  “We need a hotel close to a cable car and a post office, and we’ll be needing to get some supplies. We’re heading north into the wilderness,” Meredith said.

  The driver glanced at Jonah, saw his nod, then replied, “I know just the place, ma’am.”

  Meredith smiled and stepped up into the hackney with Jonah close behind her.

  “Was your equipment all right?”

  Her traveling partner smiled. “All intact.”

  “My typewriter?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” When the coach took off, her head snapped back, and she reached up to secure her hat.

  The Old Mission Hotel, a low adobe structure with a wide veranda across the front, hugged a small hill and provided a contrast to the more common Victorian inns they had passed. Two rooms were secured. After they inspected their rooms and tucked away their belongings, Meredith met Jonah in the hotel lobby to discuss their plans.

  “I thought we might find the closest land office and do some inquiring,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You mean you haven’t chosen a camp yet?”

  Her eyes lit. “That, Jonah, is our objective.”

  “But Asa said that you—”

  “What Asa doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?” She patted his hand. “Don’t worry so. We’ll see what’s available and decide tonight over supper.”

  Jonah stood. “Perhaps I was too hasty to jump on this assignment….” His voice trailed off, but Meredith didn’t wait around to hear his next complaint.

  The land office wasn’t far. When their business was concluded, she took Jonah’s arm and chatted all the way back to the hotel. Inside the lobby, she patted her portfolio.

  “I’m going to my room to look over this information. Shall we meet at dinner to discuss our plans?”

  “I suppose so,” Jonah said.

  “Look, Jonah. This assignment is not a contest between us. We need to work as a team. Sometimes it feels as if you have a problem with me.”

  “A man likes to take the lead once in a while.”

  “Whenever you feel the urge to do so, go right ahead.”

  He stroked the downward tips of his mustache. “We’ll see, Storm.”

  Still, she hesitated to leave. “There’s one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Once we get to the logging camp, I’d rather you didn’t call me that name in front of other people.”

  “It’s your name.”

  “I know, but I have a feeling this isn’t going to be an easy assignment, and I don’t want to give a wrong impression to any of those loggers. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I guess I do.”

  At dinner, they agreed that Bucker’s Stand would be the most convenient logging camp to investigate. Its location was north of San Francisco in the redwood country. The closest town, called Buckman’s Pride, was situated on the coast.

  “The way I look at it,” Meredith said, “we have two choices. Either we can go by ship, or we can find us an overland guide.”

  “Any ideas where we would find such a person?” Jonah asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Most loggers coming from the East pass through San Francisco. I’d wager that some of them pick up supplies while they’re in the big city. We just have to figure out where they purchase them.”

  Jonah’s blue eyes sparkled. “That just might work.” He leaned close across the table. “If we could find such a place, we could hold off making our decision until we talked to a few of them, get their advice on the best method of travel.”

  “Good idea.” Meredith beamed, then stifled a yawn. “Well, now that we have that settled, I think I’ll go to my room. I need to finish up my Overland Limited story so we can get it posted tomorrow.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll just mingle down here a bit and see if I can glean any information about where your loggers buy their supplies.”

  “Good idea.” She patted his hand. “Good night, then.”

  “Good night, Storm.”

  The next morning Jonah greeted Meredith with news that he knew where the loggers purchased their supplies.

  “Wonderful! Is the postal office on the way?”

  “I believe so. We’ll need to take the cable car.”

  They ate breakfast at the hotel, walked to the post office to mail Meredith’s story, then rode the cable car to a shop called the Outfitters. With Meredith’s first step inside, the heel of her shoe caught in a gaping hole.

  Jonah’s hand shot out to steady her. “Watch your step.” He nodded at a nearby man. She followed Jonah’s gaze to the man’s boots. They had spikes in them. “Loggers’ boots,” he whispered. “That’s what’s tearing up the floor. I guess we’re in the right place.”

  Meredith smelled the masculine scents of leather and tobacco. Her eyes roamed over the displays of tools, leather goods, clothing, bedrolls, rolls of canvas, coils of rope, liniments, and books. Along the wall lined with tools such as picks, shovels, axes, and handsaws, she caught a snatch of conversation between two men. She heard them mention Bucker’s Stand, and that was all she needed.

  She walked up behind them. “Excuse me, sir.” The men did not turn around to acknowledge her. She glanced at Jonah. He hesitated, then cleared his throat. The men quit talking.

  “Pardon me, may I have a word with you, sir?” Meredith asked.

  The closest man turned to face her, while the other tipped his hat at Jonah and went back to his shopping. The well-cut tan suede vest enhanced the man’s masculine form. She looked up expectantly, and to her ill fate, into familiar brown eyes. The melancholy man from the train. She hadn’t realized he was so handsome.

  He smiled and stared at her for an uncomfortably long period of time before asking, “Did you want something?”

  Her face heated. “Yes. In passing, I overheard you mention Bucker’s Stand. May I ask, are you headed there?”

  The man removed his hat and smirked. “I am.”

  “The reason I ask is, my friend and I are looking for someone to guide us, accompany us, to Buckman’s Pride.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t be of help.” He replaced his hat and turned to go.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his sleeve. “We can pay.” He stopped, looked at her, then at his arm. Instantly, she released him. “I… I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Then he was gone.

  Jonah had observed the entire scene. “I thought we were going to find out what the overland trip was like before we offered to pay someone to guide us.”

  She leaned against a shelf filled with boxes of nails. “We were. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never acted so unprofessionally. It’s that… that man. When I saw him, I couldn’t think clearly. Why, he makes my blood boil!”

  Jonah lifted a wooly eyebrow that matched his brown mustache in color. “Well, I hope we don’t meet up with him again. He seems to bring out some mighty strange behavior in you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were smitten with him.”

  “What!” She jerked away from the wall, and her hand struck a shovel that clattered to the floor. “That is utterly ridiculous. You know me better than that.” A clerk appeared to pick up the shovel and straighten tools. She stepped away, then had to jerk her foot loose from where it had sunk deep into a groove in the wooden plank. “Let’s just get back to work, shall we?”

  By midafternoon, Meredith and Jonah had nearly concluded their business. They would travel by land, and they had secured a guide. They stayed in the Outfitters long enough to make several purchases. Meredith did not miss how Jonah’s eyes widened when she examined the men’s clothing, cut in a very small size.

  “Get yourself some loggers’ clothing, Jonah. We’ll fit in better when we reach the camp.”

  “I don’t see anything here that appeals to my sense of…”

  “Nonsense!” she interrupted, grabbing his sleeve. “Here.” She placed a set of trousers in his arms. “And you’ll probably
need this.” Another article slapped him across the shoulder.

  “If you insist that I wear these duds, then move out of the way, Storm. I’ll do my own choosing.”

  “You don’t need to get in a huff about it. I’ll work on the rest of our list. It was so good of our guide to make it for us.”

  Jonah pointed. “Better get some different shoes while you’re at it.”

  “You’re absolutely correct,” she said, and noticed the glitter of surprise in his eyes.

  After that, they each purchased a set of saddlebags, and Jonah bargained with the store owner to trade their travelling trunks for several leather bags. When all the arrangements for their trip were in order, Meredith and Jonah returned to their hotel to dine and retire early. They would leave in the morning.

  Chapter 2

  Meredith rose early and dressed in her newly purchased male attire. She hesitated outside the hotel lobby. The clothes she could get used to, but not the abominable hat. She owned a multitude, all colorful and elaborately embellished with feathers and bows and birds and whatever attracted her attention and her delight. But this one was plain brown and round like a soup bowl with a large brim, which she supposed was to shield her face from the sun. It also hid her long brown hair, secured beneath in a tidy knot. Her hand crept up to examine…

  “Storm! You’re up.”

  Meredith jerked her hand down. “Don’t do that!”

  “Sorry,” Jonah said with a grin. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He studied her. “Sensible clothes. Let’s have breakfast.”

  She felt relieved that her travelling companion awoke on the congenial side, yet she regretted his catching her in a vain moment.

  Breakfast was hot and filling. Soon they were outside the hotel. Their guide, Silas Cooke, appeared right on time.

  Meredith strode toward him. “Good morning, Mr. Cooke.”

  Silas Cooke watched her with skepticism; his eyes flitted across Jonah, then returned to her with a new brightness. “Good morning to you, Miss Mears.” His blue gaze ran over her appraisingly, and his beard gave an odd twitch. “Didn’t recognize you right off. See you’re a sensible woman.”

  Jonah chuckled. “I’ve heard her called a ‘new woman’ repeatedly, but never ‘sensible.’”

  Meredith gave Jonah a cutting look. “You said so just this morning.”

  Jonah stared at her feet. “I said your clothes were sensible. By the way, those boots look comfortable.”

  “We’re wasting time,” Meredith said.

  Silas brought around the horses and two pack mules. Meredith needed assistance mounting the smallest horse. She imagined her riding would improve on this assignment. For some reason this small challenge gave her great satisfaction, and poised straight in the saddle, she felt eager to start the assignment of a lifetime.

  Meredith soon shed her self-consciousness where her clothing was concerned. No one gave her a second look. Loggers and miners passing through San Francisco were a commonplace event. The morning passed pleasantly without incident. Jonah pointed out the tall Call Building, which housed the San Francisco newspaper.

  They boarded a ferry once, where Meredith marveled over the flocks of pelicans and caught a wonderful view of the Cliff House, a mansion turned into a famous eating establishment. After that, they mounted up again and turned their back to the hills and harbors of San Francisco with all its bustling civilization.

  The trail meandered along the coastline, providing a fearsome sight. The edge of the earth broke off hundreds of feet above rock and water. At times the narrow path hugged so close to the cliffs that Meredith’s heart would pound with fright, and she would force herself to think of something other than toppling over the bluff and into the slapping white foam so far below.

  Her legs and shoulders ached, not only from the long hours of riding but from tensing her muscles in fear. Meredith welcomed every opportunity to dismount and stretch her miserable legs. I might learn to ride better, if I live that long.

  That night at camp, Meredith went for a short walk along the cliffs. A ship bobbed at sea, birds shrieked overhead, and the feel of the moist, salty air was cold against her face.

  “Water as far as the eye can see.”

  She jerked her head around. Silas gazed out over the scenic panorama. “It’s incredible. Makes me feel like a tiny dot in the universe,” she said.

  “Take a good look. Tomorrow, we’re going to move inland.”

  Their camp nestled securely within the shelter of some large rocks. Silas unloaded some supplies from one of the pack mules. He cooked their supper over an open fire. Meredith inhaled the food, then felt her eyes droop.

  Silas nudged her. “Smooth out a spot, like this, for your bedroll.”

  She followed his instructions, and before she knew what had happened, the light of day shone again, and it was time to climb back up into the saddle.

  The trail turned rugged and hilly and wound through dense forest with trees huge and plentiful enough to stretch the imagination of any easterner, and Meredith wondered if conservation was even an issue here, in the West. That evening she felt sore and stiff, but able to do her part in setting up camp.

  After their meal of smoked ham, beans, and biscuits, Silas pulled out a chunk of wood he carried with him and started to whittle. “I worried about this part of the trip. But you’re an excellent outdoorsman,” Meredith said.

  “I agree. I don’t know how you do it, but you make us quite comfortable with our scanty provisions,” Jonah said.

  “Just natural. I’ve lived my life in the wilds.” Silas laid the wood on his thigh, reached into his trousers for a pint of whiskey, and took a swig.

  “How long have you been in logging?” Meredith asked.

  “Most my life. I only regret I missed the gold rush. Course it didn’t make my grandpap rich. The gold brought him, but he fell in love with the land.”

  “Mm,” Meredith said.

  “It does grow on you,” Jonah said.

  “Wait until tomorrow.”

  Meredith wondered if Silas would even be able to ride the next day, with all the whiskey he consumed. She fell asleep to tales about Silas’s grandpap’s gold-digging days.

  But Silas rose sharp as the sole on a logger’s boot. Meredith need not have worried. About midday, she found out what Silas meant the night before when he said, “Wait until tomorrow.”

  First, she heard it, a roaring sound coming from the hills, which grew louder as they rode farther up the trail. Silas stopped his mount, and then she saw the most beautiful waterfalls in the world.

  They ate at the majestic spot. Jonah unloaded enough equipment to take photographs while Silas watered the horses. Meredith found a secluded place to sponge bathe. Afterwards, they followed the river west until they came to a shallow place, calm enough to ford.

  On the far side, Meredith twisted in her saddle for a final look. “Must we leave it behind?”

  “I reckon you want us to build you a castle here,” Silas said.

  “No, I expect not. I enjoy civilization too much. But it is something to remember.”

  They rode harder after that to reach the location where Silas wanted to camp that night.

  The next day a different sight tugged Meredith’s heartstrings, acres and acres of destroyed forests. The damage gouged deep into the woods and stretched a couple miles along the trail.

  “What caused this, Silas? Fire?”

  “It’s just stripped from logging.”

  “But it’s horrible.”

  “There’s plenty more trees, ma’am. Don’t worry about it none.” She cast Jonah a look of concern. “We’ll have to take some pictures, Silas.”

  It was time for the West to think about conservation.

  Chapter 3

  After several long days of travel, nights camping under the stars, innumerable saddle blisters, and unmentionable aches and pains, Meredith’s horse trotted back into civilization. It was not New York, Chicago, or San Francisco, bu
t a form of civilization. Meredith tipped her head back to peer out from under the abominable hat.

  There was a hotel, a saloon, and several stores farther uphill, yapping dogs, barefoot children, but mostly there were men. She strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of skirt, or lace, or a pretty hat or two. A large sawmill prevailed over all of the other establishments, usurping more than its share of property, people, and town noise. It would be a good place to begin her investigation of the lumber world. The town was perfect, better than she had expected.

  Silas delivered them to the front stoop of the only hotel in Buckman’s Pride and bade them farewell. Meredith assured him they would meet again, and something in the twinkling of his eyes gave Meredith to believe that the lumberjacks would probably hear of her presence long before she stepped foot into their camp.

  The elderly hotel clerk was courteous and kind enough to head them in the direction of permanent lodging. They had two options, get a discount price at the hotel or inquire with a Mrs. Amelia Cooper who oftentimes took in boarders. Meredith and Jonah made plans to bathe, change into proper clothing, and immediately search out the woman.

  “My name is Meredith S. Mears, and this is my business associate, Jonah Shaw. We heard you might take us as boarders.”

  “Glad to meet you. I’m Mrs. Cooper. You two married?”

  “No ma’am,” Jonah said, hat in his hand.

  “I don’t allow any unlawful male-female goings-on….”

  “Oh no.” Meredith shook her head. “I am a reporter from New York City, and Jonah is a photographer. We’ve come to do a story for McClure’s magazine. We would need two rooms, and I can assure you that all that will be taking place between us is strictly,” she paused to smile, “journalism at its best.”