A Bride for Noah (33 page)

In her whole life, Evie didn't think she would ever be rid of the memory of the betrayal in his eyes.

Eighteen

T
he man's words, shouted from the deck of the
Olympia,
struck Noah like a fist to the gut. He called Evie his fiancée. She was engaged to be married?

Questions battered at his mind, but he couldn't focus on them. One thought overrode all others. He had to get out of there. Escape the pitying looks his friends turned on him. Mostly, though, escape the guilt in Evie's eyes. What he needed was a place to think, to pray, someplace where he could be alone. Whirling, he began to stalk into the forest when a shout stopped him. This was what she had wanted to talk to him about. A little late for conversation now.

“Noah! There you are. Go and fetch your uncle at once. I have plenty to say to my worthless wretch of a husband.”

The voice, sharp enough to carry throughout the entire clearing and a good distance beyond, stopped him short. Aunt Letitia. And judging by the demanding tone, she had not changed much since the last time he saw her.

Schooling his features, he turned.

Evie breathlessly caught up to grab his arm. “Noah, I can explain. It's not what you think.”

Her words stabbed at his heart, opening a wound that he'd thought had healed months ago. He couldn't talk to her. Not now,
in front of all these people. With a stone-faced grimace, he pulled his arm from her grasp, gently but firmly, and climbed onto the dock.

The ship's crew fixed a ramp in place. Aunt Letitia approached first, blue feathers standing tall atop a ridiculous little hat. The young man who had called Evie his fiancée held her arm and assisted her onto the ramp. Noah could barely look at him, but focused instead on helping his aunt down the ramp and onto the wooden dock.

“This is where you live?” She inspected the landing area, her nose wrinkled with distaste. “Where is the town?” He didn't have a chance to answer before she continued. “Never mind that. More importantly, where is my husband?”

Evie's fiancé stepped off the ramp and immediately strode toward Evie, his arms thrown wide. Noah could not look in that direction.

He swallowed, and faced his aunt. “Uncle Miles isn't here. He's in San Francisco arranging some business. But we expect him within the week.”

“A week?” Her features pulled themselves into a frown, an arrangement with which they seemed familiar. “I should have known. That man is most tiresome. I suppose it can't be helped. Noah, see to my bags.” She waved a gloved hand vaguely toward the ship behind her. “Have them delivered to the cleanest boardinghouse in town.” She sniffed through a curled nose, her gaze roving the shore. “I only hope there is something decent to be had.”

Noah kept silent. Drat Uncle Miles anyway. He should be here to deal with his wife.

A familiar voice behind him stirred a fresh pain inside his chest.

“There is no boardinghouse, Mrs. Coffinger.” Evie spoke from the beach near the dock. Noah could not force himself to turn and look at her. Not with
her fiancé
standing beside her.

Aunt Letitia sniffed. “Noah, is this true?”

“Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid so.”

“I run the only business in Seattle,” Evie said. “You're welcome to stay with me.”

Aunt Letitia drew herself up, her arrogance in full evidence. She fixed Noah with a piercing glare, and her voice carried to every ear in the area. “I would rather sleep on the hard ground than under the same roof with the little tart that ran off with my husband and left me penniless.”

The words battered Noah's ears, and his mouth fell open. Now he did whirl toward Evie. Her face had gone pasty. She wavered where she stood, and for a moment he thought she might faint. Before he could leap off of the dock and come to her aid, her fiancé slipped a supportive arm around her waist.

His stomach threatened to revolt. How could he stand here and watch Evie in the arms of another man? He couldn't. Without a second thought, he hopped down from the dock and strode across the beach toward the solitude of the forest.

“Noah. Wait!”

Evie watched his retreating back. He increased his long-legged pace until he appeared to be practically running. Running away from her.

With a jerk, she threw James's arm aside. “Don't touch me. I am not your fiancée.”

James took a backward step, surprise etched on his face. “Evangeline, how can you say that? Of course you are. We're to be married.”

Though those crowded around did not openly stare, she felt the heavy regard of at least a dozen pairs of ears. Ethel and Lucy stood three feet away, their eyes round as wagon wheels, trying to look everywhere but at her.

“We are not going to be married.” She turned the full force of
her rage on James and stood her ground. “Our relationship ended months ago in Chattanooga.”

“Now, darling, you were upset and not thinking properly. I knew you didn't mean it.” He tried to place a comforting hand on her arm, but she jerked away from him. “And then you disappeared before we could patch things up.”

“I most certainly did mean it!” She whirled on Mrs. Coffinger. “And I did not run off with your husband.” She stopped, the words stumbling from her mouth. “At least, not the way you think. We had a business arrangement.”

Mrs. Coffinger jerked her nose toward the air and refused to look at Evie, and James, his expression hurt, said in a pouty voice, “What sort of
business,
darling? That's what we'd both like to understand.”

Replies crowded Evie's brain, elbowing for space and making no sense. Her pulse throbbed loudly in her ears, and she felt as though her eyes would explode from her head if she were forced to look at James or her former employer one second longer. Unable to find words to fit her fury, she settled on a satisfyingly piercing screech.

James jerked back, stunned, but Evie didn't pause. She ran toward the forest after Noah.

Noah had disappeared. Evie searched everywhere, but to no avail. No doubt he didn't want to be found, at least not by her. She wandered the timber alone, calling for him in a voice choked with tears. If only he would give her a chance to explain.

Then anger stirred. Why should she have to plead? If he loved her, he would know she would never behave like the tart Mrs. Coffinger accused her of being. An association of that sort with Miles? The very idea made her shudder.

As for James…Tears once again blurred her eyes. James's appearance must have been like a knife to Noah's heart. Why hadn't she told him about James before? If only he would listen to her, let her explain.

And so her thoughts circled round and round, even as she wandered round and round in the forest. She could not force herself to return to the restaurant and face her friends there. Not yet, not with her emotions so raw and her hopes in shreds. When she stumbled across a familiar trail, she realized that she had not truly been circling, but had been all the while heading steadily toward the place where she knew she would find a sympathetic ear. Drawing a shuddering breath, she quickened her pace to the Denny cabin.

The girls saw her from the cabin doorway when she entered the clearing. “Evie! Evie!”

They raced toward her, giggling with delight at her unexpected appearance. Evie tried to smile, but when they neared, she couldn't maintain the pretense. Her face crumpled, and the tears she tried to hold back poured forth.

The girls stopped their little faces full of distress.

“Evie, what's wrong?” Margaret asked. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Louisa Catherine turned and ran toward the cabin, shouting for her mama and aunt, while Evie gulped in air and tried to compose herself for the little girl's sake.

“No, sweetheart, I'm not hurt. Just sad.”

The child took her hand gently in one of her small ones and patted it. “Don't be sad. Mama made apple pie for supper. Papa says things always look better after a cup of tea and some pie.”

Laughing through her tears, Evie stooped and gathered Margaret into a hug. “Thank you. I'll remember that.”

By then Louisa Catherine had alerted everyone, and they piled outside. Evie was embarrassed to see Arthur hurry toward her, concern etched in the heavy creases between his eyebrows.

“What's wrong?” He searched her face. “Has there been an accident? Is someone hurt?”

Evie shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It's just…” She swallowed, mastering a sob. “A ship has arrived.”

Louisa's eyes lit up. “David is home?”

“No not his ship. Another one. My…my…” She could hardly
bear to speak the words. “My former fiancé has arrived. And Noah saw him. And Mrs. Coffinger said…” Her throat squeezed. “She said…”

She couldn't finish, but covered her face with her hands and gave in to a fresh wave of tears. Louisa's arms were around her in an instant, and she found herself being guided toward the cabin.

“There, there. Don't cry. Come inside and tell us about it.”

Noah heard Evie's voice echo through the forest. Fresh pain wrenched his heart at the tears he heard plainly, but he ignored it. What right had she to cry? Did being caught in a lie justify tears? He forced his legs to move faster and faster, dodging around cedar trees and plunging through fir branches until he was running. Running away from her. Only when her voice had faded behind him did he slow, his breath coming heavy and his heart pounding like an Indian drum.

But then the other voices echoed in his mind.

I would rather sleep on the hard ground than under the same roof with the little tart who ran off with my husband and left me penniless.

What was that all about? Though he knew without a doubt that there was nothing between Uncle Miles and Evie, what about the other accusation? Had Evie stolen something from Aunt Letitia? He snatched at a branch and came away with a fistful of pine needles. No, he could not believe that. Would not believe it.

Far more disturbing was the other voice.

Evangeline, my darling fiancée!

No man would greet a woman that way unless it was true. Evie, engaged to be married to that man on the boat. Had she run off and left him heartbroken? Why else would he cross the country to find her? Obviously he still loved her, still wanted to marry her. How could she do that to someone who loved her?