Love's Story (53 page)

“Seth is coming with us. I hope you don't mind.” Rachel lifted the boy into the trap next to the young Mrs. Smith and climbed in after him.

“No, Jeremiah loves children; he'll enjoy seeing Seth.” Veronica handed Seth an unattached strap of the reins and told the boy to pull. As he did so, Veronica snapped the bridle, yelling “Yaw,” and the buggy started with a jolt. The sensation was exhilarating, for it had been a long time since Rachel had been in any type of carriage.

The threesome rode for about an hour before coming to the wooded canyon that was home to Chase Dylan. The mere thought that this was his home sent a chill through Rachel. Secretly, she hoped he would be here today but knew chances were good that he was in Redwood. The threesome hopped from the buggy and tied the horse to a post near the wooden building that housed the mill.

“There's Jeremiah. You just wait here and I'll come back for you in a minute.” Rachel and Seth stood in a hollow, pine needle-strewn valley between two forested hills. To their right was a large, black iron boiler that bubbled and sputtered, its noise deafening as they walked closer. This was the lifeblood of the process. Rachel knew from her study of the industry that without the boiler to run the saws, the milling operation would cease. She watched the machinery inquisitively. The shouts of men could be heard over the ear-piercing shrill of the saw, and Rachel found herself wondering if Chase might be the one speaking.

To their left in the distance was a large, raised platform with a ladder leading to the huge wooden tub that stored precious water for the area. Rachel looked up at the equipment with healthy respect. The machinery made her feel so small and helpless. Above them, Veronica and Jeremiah disappeared into the mill, motioning that they would return soon. Rachel knew they probably needed their privacy and walked about the valley floor with Seth, pointing out the different birds and wildlife present in the trees.

Chase casually emerged from his upper mill, and Rachel felt a rush at the sight of him. Suddenly, an odd gurgling sound caught her attention, and she saw Chase's eyes focus on the boiler. Rachel knew the boilers were precarious machinery, often in danger of exploding. An explosion would send tons of metal shards into the air, killing anyone within their reach, and here, possibly igniting a forest fire as well. Gazing down at Seth and once again at Chase, she knew by the terror in the mill owner's expression that her fears were not unfounded. The boiler was readying to explode. Possibly she had a few minutes, but more than likely she had one at best.

Chase pointed to the ridge above the mill valley floor and yelled something. Rachel didn't wait for confirmation; she grabbed Seth and ran for the hillside. She tripped in her haste, and the two fell in a bundled heap, rolling down the grade they'd just climbed. She clawed her way to her feet again, holding her skirt in one hand and never relinquishing Seth with the other. The boiler's whistling scream became thunderously loud, and Rachel trembled as she sought refuge behind a great redwood on the ridge. Seth remained silent in fear.

The boiler sputtered and shook, and Rachel looked on in horror as Chase cleared the mill, sending his sawyers up the shallower hillside near the buildings. She closed her eyes in prayer when he returned alone to the wooden structure. Unable to keep her eyes shut, she opened them and witnessed Chase running toward the water shed with a large ax. Panting with dread, Rachel watched as he struggled up the hillside. Once he reached the ladder at the shed's base, he expertly manipulated it with his free hand, landing on the plank that surrounded the structure.
Oh Lord, please,
Rachel prayed again.

Chase began hacking away at the wooden water shed, and soon a trickle appeared in its side. He cut away more wood and the flow increased to a wide gush. He struck three more blows before the rush threatened to bring the storage shed from its perch. Striking one last blow, he made his break for the back of the board landing, jumping feverishly for the remote hill below him. The water shed lurched and plummeted toward the ground, releasing an explosive flood of water.

Chase landed on his feet upon the grade and fell backward, his momentum carrying him down the mountainside toward the surge of rushing water. He seized a roughened redwood root and held on for dear life, his body finally coming under his own control, stopping just above his manmade stream.

“Chase!” Rachel screamed. But she knew her voice could not be heard over the thunderous noise that echoed throughout the valley.

Slowly, gingerly, Chase crawled for higher ground. Once on a flat area, he turned to watch his actions take their intended effect. Seeing he was safe, Rachel also turned toward the boiler. The water hit the boiler with a great splash, extinguishing the fire beneath it, accompanied by a powerful eruption of steam. The black beast rumbled and vibrated until a large crack appeared in its base, and water trickled from the breach. Finally, the pressure proving too great, the boiler crumbled into a pile of useless metal debris.

Rachel watched what happened with tragic recognition. Years of Chase's work building his beloved sawmill had vanished within a few minutes, but she silently thanked the Lord that the boiler had been the day's only casualty. As soon as she saw the danger was over, Rachel picked up Seth and ran breathlessly along the hillside toward Chase.

“Chase?” Rachel stood above him a muddied mess, her hair bedraggled and Seth clutching tightly to her skirt.

Rachel!” Chase jumped to his feet and took her desperately into his arms. Chase's rugged hands cupped her face, lifting it sweetly toward him. Rachel gazed up expectantly, and he kissed her passionately. He pulled away, looking again into her hopeful expression, and kissed her once again.

“Chase, I'm so sorry… the boiler,” Rachel said, her heart broken over his damaged logging operation.

“There will be other boilers. I'm just so thankful no one was hurt, especially you and Seth. How did you know to run?”

“I can't explain it. I simply saw something in your face that warned me, and when you pointed, I just knew. Something just made me grab Seth and run.”

“You were so brave, I'm so proud of you. Most women would have frozen with fear, waiting to be rescued, but you were so capable. I'm amazed by you more with each passing day.” His words were an encouragement to her. “I've been such a coward, Rachel. I can't fix the moment I fell in love with you, but there was some depth to my feelings the day I spied your independent spirit in Redwood. I've harbored my feelings long enough for the sake of the town's gossips. I know now that was a mistake. Trying to protect you, I only hurt you more. Can you ever forgive me?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued. “I adore you Rachel Phillips, and I want you to be my wife as soon as I can have you.”

Rachel's heart overflowed; she had longed to hear these words from Chase Dylan, yet never expected them. She closed her eyes wistfully and embraced the words carefully. She opened her eyes again, half expecting the figure before her to be a dream. Rachel stared eagerly into his eyes, unable to speak.

“Rachel, maybe I didn't make myself clear.” He bent down before her on one knee, and Seth watched him questioningly. “I'm asking you to be my wife.”

Rachel answered in a slow whisper, “I would like nothing more than to be your wife, Mr. Dylan.” Her mind stirred in a dozen directions as she gazed into the handsome face: Whom would she tell first? How might she most quickly get word to her mother? Would she continue to teach? It was all so much to think about, but somehow, none of it really mattered.

Chase rose to his feet and once again gathered her into his arms. They held each other tightly, until Seth yanked violently on Rachel's skirt. The young boy pointed into the ravine at the line of sawyers mourning the lost boiler. Chase, holding Rachel close in his arms, happily shouted, “We'll replace it! I'm getting married!”

A roar of shouts went through the valley, but the men stood in confusion. Respect for their boss caused genuine happiness for his wedding plans, but concern for their jobs remained an issue. Chase shouted again, “Full pay until it's fixed. Now leave that mess alone until it's cooled.”

The roar flared up again, and the men began eagerly kicking the smaller iron pieces, trying to reassemble order as quickly as possible. Chase picked up Seth and took Rachel's hand, leading them down the hillside toward the mill.

Chase escorted Rachel, Veronica, and Seth to Searsville personally. He insisted upon it since the accident had kept them late in the forest. He dropped off Veronica first, vowing to return soon with her family's buggy. Seth slept quietly between the engaged couple, within the slow-moving trap which rounded the dusty path to the familiar lake.

“Rachel, I've been waiting for the gossip to subside so that I might court you properly. I'm sorry we never had that opportunity.”

Rachel shook her head. “It doesn't matter, Chase. That's all behind us now.” Chase pulled the reins on the horse and the animal stopped alongside the lake near Mrs. Hopper's home. He jumped from the rig and, after laying Seth down on the seat, helped Rachel down. His arm reached around her and Rachel cuddled into his great chest. The moon above cast a glittering blue shadow upon the water, and the moment seemed perfect.

“Do you still love the lake?” he asked.

“More than ever.”

“That's good, because this is your property we're standing on.” Chase smiled broadly.

“What?” Rachel asked incredulously, pulling away to look into his face.

“I bought it after hearing about your little visit with Gretchen. I knew that must be a sign from God that you were meant for me, and it was time I did something about it. Since I have no mill to worry about at present, I figure my sawyers can start building our house right away.”

“But Chase—”

“I figured you'd want to continue teaching, right?” Rachel nodded her head, unsure of what to think. “So we'll need a house in town, and Gretchen's is far too formal for my tastes. Jeremiah and Veronica will be letting it until they can afford to buy it from her.”

Chase had taken care of everything. “I love you, Chase.”

“I love you, too, Rachel.”

R
achel arrived home to find Maria in labor and Robert pacing frantically. “Where have you been?” His voice was angry.

“I'm sorry, Robert, it's my fault,” Chase declared.

“Go get Doc Winter, right now! We're going to have a baby!”

Rachel rushed to the bedroom and found Maria biting on a pillow to silence her screams. She held the mother's hand and calmed her while they waited for the doctor to arrive. Rachel went into every detail of the long, full day, trying to help Maria concentrate on something but the pain. Doc Winter arrived in record time, and Rachel stayed throughout the entire ordeal, encouraging her friend.

After having a healthy baby girl, Maria slept throughout the rest of Saturday, and the entire morning on Sunday. Rachel stayed with her, tirelessly making sure she was comfortable and that the baby was well taken care of, while Robert spent his time looking after Seth.

When the proud mother finally awoke, Rachel was by her side. “Oh Maria, I believe she's the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes upon. I think it's a good thing her daddy works with tools and metals. That ought to keep those sawyers at bay. Well, for a little while anyway.”

The two friends smiled at each other knowingly. They had seen so many prayers answered over the last year and took solace in the fact that God had provided for their every need. Even when it hadn't seemed that way.

“I'm still looking forward to the day when I can't see any remnant of your tiny little waist,” Maria joked, her face still drawn.

“Before you go making any plans about my disappearing waist, I was hoping I might wear your wedding gown. I noticed it in your closet when I was getting your night clothes.” Rachel's voice was tentative. She wasn't sure if her friend would mind sharing such a sentimental piece of her personal history.

“Oh Rachel, I would love for you to wear it! The lace was imported from Spain and my mother sewed the entire dress by hand. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to watch you be married in it. Not until the day that my precious Elena might wear it.” Maria cuddled her daughter close to her, and her cheeks streamed with tears.