Love's Story (17 page)

“The townspeople are uncomfortable around me?”

Beatrice Bloomfield intercepted a look of censure from her husband and shrugged. “I'm sorry if I've offended you.”

“Not at all. It is I who must apologize.”

Beatrice changed the topic, and the rest of the dinner was pleasant.

Perhaps Jonah was right when he said people feared change, and maybe Meredith was a different kind of woman than they were used to. She could prove herself, if given the time, but she wasn't sure she would be in this town long enough to do so, or if she even wanted to be.

After the meal, Thatcher singled Meredith out in the sitting room. “I can't let this evening end without pursuing our conversation. Now what were we talking about before dinner?”

“I believe we were talking about what we cannot talk about and how that doesn't leave us…”

“Much to talk about,” he finished.

They both chuckled.

“I think we can do better than that. Tell me about your life back in New York City.”

Meredith would rather they discuss his life, but thought if she cooperated a bit, he might open up in turn.

“As you know, I work for
McClure's
magazine. My editor is an older man and has been like a father to me, helping me get started in the world of journalism. He didn't want to let me come on this assignment. He was worried about me.”

“I'm glad you have someone like that to care for you. What about your parents?”

“My mother died when I was born. My father has thrown it in my face every day of my life. He wanted a son. I've tried all of my life to be one. Never could.”

“Did you move away from home?”

“Yes. After many years of keeping house for him, trying to please him, and only receiving set downs.”

“I'm sorry. You sound hurt and bitter. Not that I blame you. Have you kept in touch?”

“I called on him before I left. He called me a fool.” She shrugged. “We argued.”

Thatcher shook his head. “You and I have much in common.”

Meredith's curiosity mounted. Was he going to talk at last? “How's that?”

“I'm not good enough for my father either.”

“Where is your home?”

“Chicago. My father wants me to help him run his business. He's very wealthy.”

“That doesn't sound so bad.”

“He's a cruel, hardhearted man. His business methods are unscrupulous. I'm a Christian, and I cannot do things the way he wants.”

“So you walked out on all that wealth to travel?” she asked in amazement, thinking of the horrible accommodations at the camp. She remembered her own disappointment that it was not the kind of life she could ever share with a man. These thoughts circled back to the realization that he might already be married.

“Like I said, we're not so different. You walked out to travel, didn't you?” he asked.

“In a sense. I see your point. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“I thought we were talking personally,” he said.

“Are you married?”

“Of course not. If I were married, I would not be here alone.”

“Have you ever been married?” Meredith saw that her line of questioning puzzled, yet amused him.

“No. Are you remembering what I said after I kissed you?”

Meredith felt as if her face were on fire. How embarrassing for him to bring up that kiss. Perhaps, he was more like his father than he knew, unscrupulous. Then she remembered his rudeness on their first encounters.

She settled on ignoring his question and asking one of her own. “You were very rude to me when we first met. Why have you changed?”

“If you're fishing for a compliment, I'd be glad to oblige. In fact,” he leaned close and said very low, “I'd be pleased to walk you home.”

She shook her head at him. “You are impertinent.”

“You haven't answered my question.”

“No, you may not. Jonah and Mrs. Cooper will accompany me.”

“Furthermore, I certainly was not fishing for a compliment, and I still find you a very evasive person.”

“I was rude to you, Meredith, because you are a reporter. I didn't want to talk about my life.” His eyes darkened. “Do you understand?”

“Yes. I think I would be wise to remain wary of you.”

Thatcher laughed out loud at that.

Several people in the room looked his way.

Thatcher leaned close again. “You need never be wary of me. I'm harmless, and anyway, I'm very fond of you. See how I'm confiding in you.”

She studied him, but did not reply. If only she could read his mind.

He gave another irritating smile. “You don't need to try so hard to make it in a man's world, you know. Just be yourself.”

Her lips quivered. “I am myself. And, I believe it is time to remove myself.”

She rose from her chair and moved toward Amelia with a fake yawn. “My. I've grown so tired. Will you be ready to go home anytime soon?”

“Oh, yes dear. I was thinking the same thing.”

Jonah saw his cue. “Are you ladies growing weary?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Cooper said. “It's been such a lovely dinner party. But I don't want us to overstay our welcome.”

“I'm only so glad you could come,” Mrs. Bloomfield said.

Jonah accompanied the women to the door.

Across the way, Meredith could feel the pull of Thatcher's eyes, but she did not turn around. If he could be so contrary, then she would be likewise. The wretched man.

M
eredith carried in her hand the long-overdue envelope from Asa. Her staccato heartbeat was only matched by the fast pitter-pat of her boots as she hurried home to seek the privacy of her room. She leaned against the door. Her hands tingled as she opened the envelope. There was a letter and a check.

Meredith read it over two more times, then looked over the check.
A hat?
What sort of opinion did these men have of her anyway?
This money will go to Amelia.
She rose and went to the window. Jonah was in his studio. He would be pleased to know that they had heard from Asa.

After Jonah and Meredith had discussed the letter from their editor, they discussed their future articles, which would finish off the series. Their plans included a trip to the camp the following day.

The next day was sunny and perfect for riding out to the logging camp. At breakfast, however, Jonah threw a kink into their plans.

“I heard late last night that there's a schooner expected in the harbor this morning. I'd like to see if I can arrange for some supplies from San Francisco.”

“For your studio?” Meredith asked.

“Yes. If you want to start out without me, maybe I'll catch up with you. At any rate, I'll be right behind.”

“I'm disappointed, but that will be fine.”

“Good,” Jonah said. “I'll try to make arrangements with someone else so I don't actually have to wait on the ship.”

Meredith took her time. Wildflowers and ferns trimmed the edge of the road like lace and embroidery on the hem of a gown. Beyond the trimmings, thick tangled shrubs, sprawling berry branches, and trees that reached to the sky made a high wall at either side of her. Even though she had traveled this road several times, the scenery always humbled her, for she was touched by its beauty and frightened by its unknowns.

Asa was right. She should return to New York before winter set in, which meant that she needed to gather as much information as she could in the next couple of trips. She wished she could talk Jonah into accompanying her when she left California and stopping at some other logging camps along the way. But Jonah might not be returning; he seemed to have found his place in Buckman's Pride.

The quiver of horseflesh against Meredith's leg brought her out of the intellectual world and back into the physical one—of horse, road, trees, and
bear
!

“Steady, boy. Steady, boy.”

Her voice wavered, and she tightened her grip on the reins, but her horse didn't steady. He let out a snort and balked in the road. Then he kicked his forelegs high into the air and brought them down to stomp the ground. Meredith fought to control him; he backed a few paces, hoofed the ground, then tossed his head and forelegs up again.

Meredith clung to the reins in terror as she saw the bear approach. The beast swung his body from side to side and snarled. Meredith's horse suddenly lurched and bucked Meredith hard.

She felt her body slide sideways. The reins slipped loose. For a moment she thought she was going to be dragged upside down, but then her boot released from the stirrup, and she landed with a large thud off the side of the road. Her head smarted and her vision momentarily blurred.

In an instant she knew that her horse was gone. But what about the bear? She rolled onto her side so she could see. The bear stood in the middle of the road, still swinging his body from side to side and staring after the horse until his eyes discovered Meredith.

She heard a groan coming from deep inside her, and then she heard herself say
Run.

The bear went down on all fours and started moving again, this time toward her. Meredith scrambled to her feet and ran for all she was worth. Through the trees she ran, never looking back. The bushes tore at her trousers but she kept on going.

I can't hear him. Wouldn't I hear the bear if he were chasing me? But I can't stop.
Finally, she looked over her shoulder. She couldn't see anything but forest. She slowed and looked back again. She didn't see the bear or the hole in front of her, and her foot slipped into it.

Down she went. Meredith gasped. A pain shot up her leg. She tried to get up again, but her leg gave out. She crawled onto her stomach and turned herself around. Her heart beat wildly; she could feel it in her throat. She listened, and her eyes gave a frantic search over the woods for the black monster. She thought she heard some cracking twigs in the distance.

The bear is still there.

She gave a panicked glance for a place to hide. There was a fallen log and a large redwood. She chose the living tree and crawled toward it. When she reached the trunk, she sat behind it and peeked around to see if the bear was coming. Surely it would smell her. What could she do?

She heard cracking twigs again and leaned up tight against the tree, its bark against her cheek. Tears made the bark a blur. The animal was taking its time, probably tracking her. A squirrel started scolding, and she cringed.