Would-Be Wilderness Wife Page 3
“I’m really very sorry,” he apologized again to Catherine as he faced front. “I don’t know what got into him. He was raised better.”
“Out in the woods, you said,” she replied, gaze toward the front, as well. Her hair was once more confined behind her head, and he knew a moment of regret at its disappearance. Levi might have been the one to cry out at the sight of it, but the satiny tresses had held him nearly as captive.
“On the lake,” he told her. “My father brought us to Seattle about fifteen years ago from Wisconsin and chose a spot far out. He said a man needed something to gaze out on in the morning besides his livestock or his neighbors.”
She smiled as if the idea pleased her. “And your mother?” she asked, shifting on the wooden bench, her wide blue skirts filling the space at her feet. “Is she truly ill?”
It was difficult to even acknowledge the fact. He nodded, turning his gaze out over the horses. “She came down with a fever nearly a fortnight ago.”
He could feel her watching him. “A fever that lasts that long is never good,” she informed him in a pleasant voice he was sure must calm many a patient. “Do you open the windows daily to air her room?”
He’d fetched gallons of water from the spring, even trudged down to the lakeshore to draw it cold from the depths. He’d stoked up the fire, wrapped Ma tight in covers. But he hadn’t considered opening the windows.
“No,” he answered. “Doesn’t cold air just make you sicker?”
She shook her head, Levi’s hat sliding on the silk of her hair. “No, indeed. The fear of it is a common belief I have had to fight repeatedly. Fresh air, clean water, healthy food—those are what cure a body, sir. That is what my father taught. That is what I practice.”
She was so sure of the facts that he couldn’t argue. He knew from conversations with Doc Maynard that Seattle was woefully behind on recent medical advancements. As one of the few physicians, Doc was overwhelmed with the number of people ill or injured. He must have been overjoyed to have Catherine join his staff.
“I hope you’ll be able to help her, then, ma’am,” he told her. “Before we return you to Seattle tomorrow.”
He glanced her way in time to see her gaze drift out over the horses. “You did not seem so sure of my skills earlier, sir.”
With Levi right behind him, he wasn’t about to admit that his initial concern had been for his brother’s matchmaking, not the lack of her skills. “We’ve known Doc for years,” he hedged.
He thought her shoulders relaxed a little. She sat so prim and proper it was hard to tell. “My father’s patients felt the same way. There is nothing like the trusted relationship of your family doctor. But I will do whatever I can to help your mother.”
Levi’s smug voice floated up from behind. “I knew she’d come around.”
Though Drew was relieved at the thought of Catherine’s help, he wanted nothing more than to turn and thump Levi again.
“As you can see,” he said instead to Catherine, “my brother has a bad habit of acting or talking without thinking.” He glanced back into the wagon in time to see Levi making a face at him.
“My brother was the same way,” she assured him as he turned to the front again with a shake of his head. “He borrowed my father’s carriage more than once, drove it all over the county. He joined the Union Army on his eighteenth birthday before he’d even received a draft notice.”
“Sounds like my kind of fellow,” Levi said, kneeling so that his head came between them. “Did he journey West with you?”
Though her smile didn’t waver, her voice came out flat. “No. He was killed at the Battle of Five Forks in Virginia.”
Levi looked stricken as he glanced between her and Drew. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she replied, but Drew saw that her hands were clasped tightly in her lap as if she were fighting with herself not to say more.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Drew said. “That must have been hard on you and your parents.”
“My mother died when I was nine,” she said, as if commenting on the weather. “My father served as a doctor in the army. He died within days of Nathan. It was a very bloody war.”
How could she sit so calmly? If he’d lost so much he would have been railing at the sky.
Levi was obviously of a similar mind. “That’s awful!” He threw himself back into the bed. “Pa died when I was eight, but I think I would have gone plumb crazy if I’d lost Drew and Simon and James and John, too.”
Her brows went up as she glanced at Drew. “You have four brothers?”
He chuckled. “Yes, and most days I’m glad of it.”
“We had another sister, too, besides Beth,” Levi said, popping up again. “She died when she was a baby. Simon says it about broke Ma’s heart.”
It had almost broken Drew’s heart, as well. His parents had been grieving so hard that he’d had to be the one to fashion the tiny coffin and dig the little grave at the edge of the family land. He’d never dreamed his father would be dead just five years later.
Please, Lord, don’t make me bury another member of my family!
The prayer came quickly, and just as quickly he regretted it. It was selfish. If a man prayed, he should ask the Almighty for wisdom to lead, strength to safeguard those he loved. The Lord had blessed him with strength. Some days he wasn’t too sure about the wisdom.
Beside him, Miss Stanway’s face softened, as if his pain had touched her.
“I’m sorry for your loss, as well,” she said. They were the expected words; he’d just used them on her. He’d heard them countless times at his father’s passing and his sister’s. Yet the look she cast him, the tears pooling in her blue eyes, told him she understood more than most.
He wanted to reach out, clasp her hand, promise her the future would be brighter. But that was nonsense! He couldn’t control the future, and she was his to protect only until he returned her to Seattle. He had enough on his hands without taking on a woman new to the frontier.
Besides, every settlement within a hundred miles needed her help. Catherine Stanway might not have realized it yet, but a nurse was a valuable commodity, even if she wasn’t so pretty or one of a few unmarried women in the Territory.
Which made him wonder how far his brothers might go to keep her at Wallin Landing.
Chapter Three
Twilight wrapped around the forest by the time Catherine’s host guided the team into a grassy clearing crossed by moss-crusted split-rail fences. A large cabin and a barn made from logs and planed timber hugged the edges, with trees standing guard behind them as if honoring their fallen brothers and sisters. Another light through the trees told her at least one more cabin was nearby. The glow through the windows of the closest cabin beckoned to her.
“Where’s the lake?” she asked as Drew hopped down and came around the wagon.
He nodded toward the cabin, a two-story affair with a pitched roof and a porch at one end. It was encircled by a walk of planed boards.
“Through the trees there,” he said. “We’re on a bench fifty feet or so above the waterline. Keeps us out of any flooding in the spring.”
His father had obviously planned ahead. She wouldn’t have thought about spring flooding when choosing a plot for a house. Of course, she’d never had to choose a homesite in the wilderness!
She turned to climb down, and once again Drew reached out and lifted her from the wagon to set her on her feet. For a moment it was as if she stood in his embrace. His eyes were a smoky blue in the dim light. She couldn’t seem to remember why she was here, what she was supposed to do next.
The sound of Levi scrambling out of the wagon bed woke her, and she pulled away. As the youth started past, his brother put out an arm to stop him.
“See t
o the horses and bring in the supplies. I’ll take our guest inside.”
Levi’s face tightened, but then he glanced at Catherine. As if he finally realized it was his fault she was here, he shrugged and went to do as he had been bid.
“This way,” Drew said with another nod toward the cabin.
The Wallin home might have been made from peeled logs, but it appeared the family had taken pains to make the place attractive as well as functional. Stained glass panels decorated the top of each window on the two floors. Boxes filled with plants underpinned the two larger downstairs windows; she recognized several kinds of flowering herbs. Someone had plaited a wreath from fir branches and hung it from the thick front door. The resinous smell greeted Catherine as she approached.
Drew reached for the latch, but the panel swung open without his aid. Catherine only had time to register blond hair darker and a good foot lower than hers before a young lady launched herself into her arms.
“Thank you, oh, thank you!” The girl drew back to grin at Catherine. “I know this was a terrible long way to come, but we need a nurse badly. Simon and James and John will be so glad to see you! They’ll be by later, my brothers, all of them. They thought you or Doc or whoever was coming should have some time to yourself before they came stampeding in, but I couldn’t wait to get to know you better.”
“Beth,” Drew rumbled beside Catherine.
The girl didn’t even pause for breath as she seized Catherine’s hand and pulled her across the colorful braided rag rug into the wide, warm room, which was lit by a glowing fire. “I’ll make an apron for you to wear. Godey’s Lady’s Book says they’re all the rage for the fashionable lady of industry.”
“Beth,” Drew said a little more firmly as he followed them.
“I have stew ready for dinner,” his sister continued, and Catherine could smell the tangy scent drifting through the cabin as Beth tugged her past a long table with ladder-back chairs at each end and benches along the sides. Similar chairs rested against the walls, cane seats partially covered by small quilts, and a bentwood rocker stood near the rounded stone fireplace. Through the openings on either side of the hearth she caught sight of a step stove with kettles simmering. A massive iron tub leaned against the outside wall.
“I know it’s not much,” Beth said, “but I wasn’t sure when you’d get here and I was afraid I’d dry out the venison if I kept it on the stove too long. Do you like stew?”
“Yes,” Catherine assured her, pulling herself to a stop in the middle of the room, “but...”
Beth didn’t wait for more. “Oh, good! This time of year we only have early carrots, of course, but I still had potatoes and turnips left from the fall. We have our own garden behind the house. Drew cleared the land. In a few weeks, we’ll have peas and beans and cabbage and...”
“Beth!”
Drew’s thundering voice made Catherine cringe, but it finally stopped his sister, in word and in action. She turned to frown at him, firelight rippling across her straight golden hair. “What?”
“Doc Maynard couldn’t come,” he said without a hint of apology in his voice. “This is Miss Stanway. She’s a nurse, but she’ll only be staying the night with us. I’ll return her to Seattle tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The single word seemed to echo in the room. She dropped her gaze and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Now that she was still, Catherine could see that she had a heart-shaped face like her brother, wide-spaced eyes and the beginnings of a figure. Her cheeks were turning as pink as the narrow-skirted gingham gown she wore.
“It was a natural mistake,” Catherine assured her with a smile. “And I’ll be happy to help your mother while I’m here.”
Beth glanced up and brightened. Her eyes were darker than her older brother’s, closer to the midnight blue of Levi’s. Catherine had a feeling that one day a large number of suitors would be calling.
“Thank you,” Beth said, good humor apparently restored. “And I truly am happy to make your acquaintance. Would you like to see Ma now?”
Before Catherine could answer, Drew stepped forward, gaze all for his sister, his brows drawn down heavily over his deep-set eyes. “How is she?”
Beth’s light dimmed, and she seemed to shrink in on herself. “Still the same. I’m not sure she knows me.”
Catherine felt as if her spine had lengthened, her shoulders strengthened. Her father had always said it was a powerful thing to have a purpose. She felt it now, wiping away her weariness and soothing her frustrations. Thank You, Lord. Help me do what You fitted me to do.
“Take me to her,” she ordered them.
Beth clasped her hands in obvious relief. Drew merely motioned Catherine to where a set of open stairs, half logs driven into the wall, rose to the second story.
Upstairs were two more rooms, divided by the fireplace and the walls that supported it. One room held several straw ticks on the floor, but only one seemed to be in use; the others were piled with rumpled clothing, tools and chunks of wood. The other room contained two wooden beds—a smaller one in the corner with a carved chest beside it and a larger bedstead in the center with a side table holding a brass lamp. Both beds were covered with multicolored quilts that brightened the room.
A woman lay on the wider bed. She had hair that was more red than gold, plastered to her oval face. She’d been handsome once, but now pain had drawn lines about her eyes, nose and mouth. By the way the collar of her flannel nightgown bagged, Catherine guessed she’d lost some weight, as well. Her skin looked like parchment in the candlelight.
Catherine sat in the high-backed chair that had been placed next to the bed and reached for Mrs. Wallin’s hand. Setting her fingers to the woman’s wrist, she counted the heartbeats as her father had taught her. She could feel Drew and his sister watching her. She’d been watched by family members before, some doubting her, some worried. This time felt different somehow. Her shoulders tensed, and she forced them to relax.
“Her pulse is good,” she reported, keeping her voice calm and her face composed. She had to remain objective. It was so much easier to do her job when she viewed the person before her as a patient in need of healing rather than someone’s mother or wife. She leaned closer, listening to the shallow, panting breaths.
“Mrs. Wallin,” she said, “can you hear me?”
The woman’s eyelids fluttered. Drew and Beth leaned closer as well, crowding around Catherine. Their mother’s eyes opened, as clear as her eldest son’s but greener. She blinked as if surprised to find herself in bed, then focused on Catherine.
“Mary?” she asked.
Beth sucked in a breath, drawing back and hugging herself. Drew didn’t move, but Catherine felt as if he also had distanced himself. Who was this Mary his mother had been expecting? Did Drew Wallin have a wife he’d neglected to mention?
* * *
Drew watched as Catherine tended to his mother. Ma had changed so much in the past two weeks that he hardly knew her. As Beth had said, he wasn’t sure she knew them, either. It was as if the fire that had warmed them all their lives was growing dim.
He had feared Catherine might confirm the fact, tell them in her cool manner to prepare for the worst. Instead, she was all confidence. She opened the window beside the bed and ordered the one opposite it opened as well, drawing in the cool evening air and the scent of the Sound. She directed Drew to smother the fire and helped Beth pull off some of the covers they had piled on their mother in an attempt to sweat the fever from her. She even removed Ma’s favorite feather pillow and requested a straw one. It was testimony to how ill their mother was that she protested none of this.
“Do you have a milk cow?” Catherine asked Drew as Beth dug through the chest their father had carved for Ma to find the clean nightgown Catherine had suggested.
Drew shook his head. “Four goats. But they produce enou
gh milk for our purposes.”
Catherine accepted the flannel gown from Beth with a nod of thanks. “What about lemons?”
“Simon brought some back from town last week,” Beth said, tucking her hair behind her ear and hugging herself with her free hand. “I used some for lemonade.”
“Fetch the lemonade,” Catherine advised. “We’ll start with that and see if she can tolerate it. Later, I’ll show you how to make lemon whey. Mrs. Child recommends it for high fevers.”
“Mrs. Child?” Drew asked, but his sister nodded eagerly.
“I know Mrs. Child! Ma has her book on being a good housewife. She’s very clever.”
Beth might have gone on as she often did, but Catherine directed her toward the stairs, then turned to Drew. “I’ll need warm water, as well.”
Drew frowned. “To drink?”
Pink crept across her cheekbones, as delicate as the porcelain cups his mother had safeguarded over the Rockies on their way West. “No,” she said, gaze darting away from his. “To bathe your mother. Can you see that it’s warmed properly? Not too hot.”
“Coming right up,” Drew promised, and left to find some help.
He managed to locate the rest of his family at Simon’s cabin, which was a little ways into the woods. His brothers were cleaning up before dinner, but they all stopped what they were doing to listen to his explanation of what had happened in town. He thought at least one of them might agree with him that Levi’s actions were rash. But to a man they were too concerned about Ma to consider how Catherine Stanway must feel.
“So this nurse,” Simon said, draping the cloth he’d been using to dry his freshly shaven face over the porcelain basin in a corner of his cabin. “What do we know about her? What are her credentials?”