When Love Comes My Way Page 6

  Just as Jake’s eyes had done, Echo’s gaze dropped to the front of Tess’s dress. “Ma’am, your buttons…”

  Tess glanced down. Her jaw dropped and her cheeks flamed when she discovered the reason for Lannigan’s attention. In her haste she had buttoned the dress incorrectly. The lopsided mishap was a sight to behold. Groaning with embarrassment, Tess’s hands came up to cover her face.

  “Oh, don’t you be worrying, ma’am,” Echo soothed. “Big Say—he won’t think anything about this. He’s a real gentleman.”

  Tess wasn’t worried about what he would say. She felt sure he wouldn’t deliberately point out what an idiot she had just made of herself. She prayed for a hole in the floor to open up and swallow her alive. At this instant Jake Lannigan must be outside rolling in the snow with amusement, and she had to walk out there and face him. She hastily redid the buttons.

  A few minutes later, draped in a heavy, shapeless brown coat, she reluctantly slipped out the doctor’s front door. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and prepared to defend the ridiculous spectacle she’d just made of herself.

  Jake was leaning against the trunk of a tree when she came out. When he saw her, he straightened and reached out to take the two valises from her hands.

  “All ready?”

  “Yes.” Tess could feel the blood rushing to her face, but mercifully she managed to avoid his gaze. Moments later she found herself trailing behind him, trying to keep up with his long-legged strides. There was no need to worry about having to explain the unfortunate carelessness to him. The incident seemed to have escaped his mind. Apparently, he was intent on delivering her to her destination with as little socializing as possible.

  She gradually became aware of her surroundings when she followed him down the planked sidewalk. “Echo tells me that not all logging camps are alike. She mentioned something about haywire camps. What does that mean?”

  Jake slowed down a little to let her catch up. “Echo was talking about fly-by-night operations strung together with hay wire. Other operations are larger and better managed. Wakefield Timber is one of those.”

  Tess detected the note of pride in his tone. “Echo said this logging camp is almost a little town in itself.”

  “It’s pretty good sized.”

  When they passed a small building, she read aloud a sign posted in the window. “Mitts, Woolen Socks, Tobacco, and Hinckley’s Bone Liniment for Man or Beast.”

  Jake nodded. “Menson’s Store. Everything a man needs. It’s also the town gathering spot for the jacks when they’re between shifts.”

  “What about the women?” she asked. His gaze swung around to meet hers, and for an instant the atmosphere felt so charged that Tess forgot to breathe. Her footsteps slowed.

  “There are not many women in camp, but a woman can buy necessities there. We have a few jacks who live with their wives, but this is mostly a man’s world. You’d best keep that in mind.”

  She broke eye contact first to glance at the windows above the store. It looked as though living quarters were up there. “Is that where I’m staying?”

  “No. That’s my room.”

  He crossed the street and she followed without a word, mystified by his sudden mood change. He seemed a little grumpy now. She glanced at the half dozen buildings that lined the block as they walked past the camp office, the huge horse barn, the hay barn, the icehouse, the blacksmith shop, the pig house, the chicken house, and the root cellar. It seemed as though they were going in circles, but she continued to follow. Wakefield Timber was indeed a large operation.

  Excessively cold wind whipped at her clothing, and she drew the heavy wool closer around her. She assumed that the next building they came upon was a cookshack because the air around it was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of pies baking in the oven.

  Stepping off the sidewalk, Jake led her onto a small path that wound through towering stands of white pine. A tangy, spicy aroma from the woods filled the air as Tess scrambled to keep up with him.

  Overhead, trees soared to breathtaking heights, their branches outstretched to touch the blue of the majestic sky. She glanced about in awe, fascinated with the sheer beauty surrounding her. The lofty trunks and Jake Lannigan’s imposing height made her feel as if she were an insignificant speck dotting the forest floor.

  After a while she noticed a steady chopping sound. Tess slowed and then stopped altogether to tilt her chin upward. She shaded her eyes as she squinted up into the bright afternoon light. A man was sitting in the top of a tree some two hundred feet off the ground.

  Jake noticed that she had paused, and he followed her gaze. “He’s a high climber. Ever seen one before?”

  “I… no, I don’t think so,” she whispered. She heart was filled with childlike wonder.

  Shielding his eyes from the sun, Jake said, “That’s Lane Garrettson.”

  The man leaned back into a rope and began to cut with sure, swift strokes. “What is the rope for?”

  “That’s called a life rope. It helps secure him. See what he’s doing? That’s called the back cut. He’s using a one-man crosscut saw.”

  She stood transfixed, almost afraid to breathe for fear it would unseat the man. Prickles of apprehension shot down her spine, and her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the young daredevil go about his work.

  She knew little about lumberjacking, but in the past weeks Echo had educated her some. The thought of hanging by a rope on the side of a tree that height made Tess light-headed. “How can he do that?” she murmured, moving closer to Jake and feeling protected when she was near him.

  “Do what?”

  Tess peered up at him in disbelief. “Climb a tree that size and… and start cutting it!”

  “It’s his job. Stand back.”

  She watched the man set his spikes deeper in the trunk and wait. The crown of the tree started to lean. The jack let the saw drop. “Timberrrrrrr!”

  “What’s he doing now?” she whispered.

  “He’s waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For the tree to fall.”

  “Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is?”

  “He knows. If the crown doesn’t sever completely and splits the trunk when it topples, his lifeline will pull him into the tree. That can break a man’s back or kill him instantly.”

  “And he’s up there knowing that?” Tess was horrified but powerless to turn away.

  The air was filled with a sharp cracking and splintering as the top of the tree hurtled to the ground, propelling the young man outward in a violent thirty-degree arc. She clamped her eyes shut and put her hands to her mouth to stifle a scream. She was going to be sick. Why hadn’t she looked away so she would have been spared the appalling spectacle of a man falling to his death!

  Jake turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  Tess screamed out loud this time, and her terrified cry ricocheted throughout the thick forest, unaware that the noise would still axes and men would cease work to identify the strange high-pitched squeal reverberating through the woods.

  She could visualize the broken, bleeding body of the fellow lying at the base of the tree. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked, with eyelids still pressed closed.

  Jake glanced back up. “Who’s dead?”

  Her lids flew open. She glanced at Jake, her mouth gaping with amazement. A man had plunged headlong to his death, and Jake Lannigan hadn’t noticed? “That man who was…” Her voice trailed when she looked up to see the jack disconnect his safety gear, climb to the flat top of the tree and stand, his arms spread wide with victory as he gave a cocky grin to the crew working below him.

  She gasped. “Why… he’s alive!”

  Jake continued down the path. “He wasn’t ever in trouble.”

  “You mean that happens every time a man cuts off the top of a tree?”

  “Every single time.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone in his right mind willing to go through s
uch a frightening experience!” She paused. Suddenly it seemed as though they had walked for hours. “How much farther is it? I’m very cold.”

  “Not much farther.”

  Why would any woman, who apparently had held a perfectly good teaching position in Philadelphia, have given up a warm and secure life? She purportedly had been of her mind as recently as two short weeks ago.

  Tess wished she could remember. Had her life been so terrible that she’d decided to come to a remote Michigan lumber camp to work? A place filled with men who calmly faced imminent death every day?

  She blew out her breath in a frosty plume. Apparently she’d lost her mind at some point prior to the accident.

  8

  Threatening clouds ballooned in the west when they finally reached Tess’s new quarters. Jake set the two bags on the ground and waited for her to catch up. He listened to the heavy rustling in the thicket behind him, aware that Miss Yardley—who, he was becoming increasingly more convinced, was Miss High-and-Mighty Wakefield—was having a hard time keeping up with him.

  Grinning, he relished the thought of how furious she’d be if her memory returned and she discovered she wasn’t Fedelia Yardley. He’d wager Tess Wakefield could pitch a fit if she wanted to, and he had no doubt she would want to if she found out he’d had the slightest suspicions of her identity from day one and had not seen fit to mention them to her.

  The more he was around the woman, the more he was certain his suspicions were right, that she was Wakefield’s granddaughter, though he had no explanation as to why she wasn’t wearing an engagement ring. Maybe she’d broken off the engagement. Maybe she’d left her expensive jewelry at home.

  How she’d come here this fast he couldn’t say, but he’d wager a month’s wages this woman had never taught school a day in her life. She’d been confused when the doc had asked her to fill out papers for his files. He’d had to spell F-E-D-E-L-I-A twice for her.

  “Are you okay, Miss Yardley? Do you need help?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  She sounded anything but okay. So many questions were going through his mind. Was he having a guilty conscience because he hadn’t revealed the fact of who she might really be? Was he playing a game to keep the beautiful Miss Wakefield not knowing who she was so she wouldn’t sell? He’d never thought of himself as a scoundrel, but now he had real doubts about his intentions.

  If they were still betrothed, Talbot Wellington-Kent would be having kittens wondering what happened to his fiancée. The man wasn’t stupid. And he was rich. He’d find a way to make inquiries with or without a telegraph line.

  Then, and only then, would Jake tell her and her intended what he thought of their notion to sell Wakefield Timber to Sven Templeton. After that, he planned to walk out on her and leave her high and dry. She would be in one fine mess for weeks.

  If this woman was Tess, maybe he could convince her that selling to Templeton was wrong. Then, when she regained her memory, she’d change her mind about pine. The thought was enough for him to keep silent. No real harm would be done to Miss Wakefield, and she might even learn a lesson in humility.

  God, forgive me for keeping this to myself, but this earth is Your creation, and I’d like to keep it the way You created it.

  He glanced up when she emerged at last from the thick undergrowth, muttering under her breath. Her hair was matted with pine needles, and the wind had stung her face a raspberry red. All signs of her earlier enthusiasm for the adventure had disappeared. He straightened when she glared at him, replacing his grin with a sober expression.

  “I hope the walk hasn’t been too tiring for you, ma’am.” He’d taken her on a bit of a wild goose chase to see if she had any grit, and now he almost felt guilty for doing it. Almost.

  “I’m getting a blister!”

  “Please accept my condolences.”

  She stared down at her feet, and Jake knew she was trying to force herself to remain pleasant. Her face looked cold enough that if she tried to smile, her features might shatter into a million pieces. She ripped off her gloves and tried to blow warmth back into the tips of her stinging fingers.

  “There was a shorter route,” he admitted.

  “Oh? Then why didn’t we take it?”

  “I thought you might enjoy a brief tour of camp.”

  “Camp? I didn’t even see the camp. It was more like a tour of the entire Upper Peninsula.” Snatching pine needles from her hair, she threw them to the ground.

  She was right. If they had taken the normal route, they would have walked around the back of Doc Medifer’s office and been at their destination in less than two minutes, but that would have been too easy on her. He wanted to make it as tough on the woman as possible. If she was Rutherford’s kin, she’d handle it, spoiled or not. “Ever been in a logging camp, ma’am?”

  “Never. And right now I don’t care if I ever see another one.”

  “You’re unhappy with your new position so soon?” He stepped up to the heavy door to her new quarters… in the bunkhouse. “Well, I suppose most people don’t know or don’t much care where their lumber comes from as long as it keeps coming. They want their bridges, homes, barns, fences, and big, fine carriages. It doesn’t matter to them that folks are destroying the land to get the timber.”

  The remark sounded a bit extreme, yet he was a man with strong opinions. She should, by this point, be feeling the same concern about the waste clearly in front of her eyes, but sore feet seemed to be the burning issue. She stood on one foot as she tried to rub the other.

  “But then, I imagine timber would be the last thing you would worry about.” He dismissed the subject and opened the door to reveal a tiny room. “Welcome home.”

  She squinted and then stared into the dim, confined, windowless space, and her reaction made him grin. But as soon as she glanced at him, he grew serious again.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said welcome home. This is your new room.”

  My new room, she silently mouthed. He wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this wasn’t it. Though a look of horror registered on her wind-chapped features, her beauty was still evident.

  “Sorry I couldn’t put you somewhere that would allow more privacy and space, but I guess you can always look at it this way”—his smile returned, and it felt almost friendly—“you’ll have close neighbors.”

  She managed a wan smile in return. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Picking up her valises, he motioned for her to go ahead of him. “You have a private door leading to the outside, but there’s also a door going to the inside of the building. I doubt you’ll use it, but it’s there if you ever need it. Go on.”

  Giving him a look a teacher might give an unruly student, she obliged. The facial rebuke was so hard-hearted that he realized this very well might be the new schoolmarm. Once inside the room, he opened a second door to reveal the crew’s sleeping quarters.

  The room was long and narrow, with rough board bunks, three tiers high, set around the walls. Each bunk was filled with straw and covered with a heavy wool blanket. On every bed a grain sack served as a pillow, and by the thick lumps in them Jake supposed she would figure out that the jacks stowed their personal belongings inside the cases. A large, black iron stove sat in the center, and above it, a string of wire was stretched across the entire length of the room.

  “You must be kidding,” Tess murmured. Her gaze roamed the room.

  He knew she wanted to be assigned private quarters. There were a handful of married women in camp, but she was the only single female. He had to accommodate families first. “I’m afraid there’s no room for a single woman in the camp, so I made do with what I had.” He followed her down the long rows of bunks, her eyes running the length of the rough log walls chinked with mud and moss.

  “Echo told me a few women were in camp…”

  “They’re all married.”

  She paused before turning around to face him. “But this room
houses men.”

  “They won’t bother you. I’ll have André move Fred Massey to the front bunk. Fred’s a former preacher. He has three daughters of his own and sleeps with one eye open. You’ll be as safe as a church mouse.” He smiled and started back toward her room. “This is the best I can offer in these parts, ma’am.”

  “I’m to live here… with your crew.”

  Continuing to walk, he shrugged. “Not in here, precisely. What sort of man do you take me for? You have four walls and a private entrance, but I thought an inner door would be handy. If you encounter trouble or need anything, you’ll have a hundred and twenty-five big, strapping men to help.”

  “You, sir, have clearly lost your mind.”

  They reached the end of the room, and he saw her turn to look back.

  “My room’s not much bigger than a rat hole,” she whispered. Her eyes suddenly noticed a large cat lying on a nearby bunk.

  He followed her gaze to the black fur ball that looked comfortable as all get out. “I’m aware your particular quarters aren’t spacious, but your résumé said you would settle for anything comfortable.” He met her eyes. “Did I misread that?”

  “Well…I suppose if I said that…” Her eyes centered on the cat. “Does he live in my quarters?”

  “She. If you want her to. Do you like animals?”

  “I…I think so. But I don’t think I’ve ever lived with one.”

  “Then you’re in for a treat. Speaking of rats, Old Sweets here keeps the population under control. She can sleep with you, if you’d like.” He turned away when he noted her cheeks growing pale. He told himself there was no real need for her concern. Number one, she probably wouldn’t be there that long. Nevertheless, Jake had given orders that his men stay clear of the new teacher. Fred would enforce the command. He trusted his men, plain and simple.

  Number two, the new telegraph line would be working soon. After that they would know for certain if it had been Tess Wakefield or the Yardley woman who had survived the accident.

  In the end, it would likely take Tess’s fiancé to make the long trip to confirm a solid identity, and winter was setting in hard and fast this year. If this was the new schoolteacher, nothing would come of his ploy to show Miss Wakefield the value of restoring her property. He would simply be educating Miss Yardley on the subject.