Rainy Day Dreams: 2 (37 page)

“No kidding?” Dorsey, one of the log setters, gave a low whistle. “Wish I coulda seen that.”

“Think she’d still be at the restaurant? She stays kind of late, don’t she?”

Jason jerked his head toward the man. The restaurant?

“Not this late,” answered Harris. “But I’m gonna get up early and head over there for breakfast. Maybe she’ll get all gussied up tomorrow too. Start a man’s day right, it will, seeing a purty girl serving up flapjacks and eggs.”

“Are you talking about Evie Hughes?” Jason asked. He couldn’t imagine Evie wearing a feathered hat, but she’d certainly been more emotional lately. Some women were when they were expecting.

“Nah, not Miz Hughes. The new gal. Miz Bergert.”

He came to a halt and stared at the man. “Kathryn?”

“Yeah,” said Bailey. “Some of the guys said she came to town this afternoon all dressed up in a frilly red dress and with her hair all fancy. Smiling big as all get-out and cutting jokes with fellas. Said she invited them to come visit her up at the Faulkner House in a couple of days.”

“Are you sure?” He shook his head, trying to picture Kathryn in frills.

Harris shrugged. “Leonard’s seen her at the restaurant enough to recognize her. Said she was acting friendlier than usual, though. He wondered if maybe she’d been…you know.” He tipped an imaginary bottle to his lips.

They reached the crossroad then. The men bid him farewell and turned toward the row of small cabins that housed many of the millworkers. Jason continued up the hill, more confused than ever.

What had come over Kathryn? She
had
been acting differently the past few days. Her new hairstyle, for instance. But a red frilly dress? And coming to town by herself after what had happened with the sailors a week ago? She knew better.

Her image loomed clearly in his mind, leaning toward him in the dark. On the porch last night he’d had the most disturbing urge to kiss her. But that was his idea, right? Or had he fallen victim to an accomplished coquette? Suspicions hammered at him. When he first saw her on board the
Fair Lady
, he’d pegged her for a flirt who’d come to Seattle with one goal in mind. To trap a husband.

Had he been right about her all along?

Eighteen

Saturday, January 26, 1856

T
he restaurant was full to overflowing on Saturday morning. It seemed like every man in town had picked that day to have breakfast at Evangeline’s Café. A steady stream of customers filed into the restaurant, filling every available chair. They even lined up outside, waiting for a seat to empty.

Kathryn hurried from table to table, filling plates and mugs and returning so many wide smiles her cheeks ached from the strain. Evie worked at a frantic pace, flipping hundreds of flapjacks. At the rate they were going they would run out of butter before they ran out of customers. To make matters worse, everywhere Kathryn looked she found herself the subject of dozens of wolfish stares such as she had not seen since the week of her arrival.

“What is going on today?” Evie asked as she slid a stack of cakes onto yet another empty platter. “Is the entire town suddenly starving?”

Kathryn held the platter steady and glanced uncomfortably around the room. “Maybe it’s the strain of waiting for an attack.” She made a face. “Though it’s having the opposite effect on me. My stomach is so upset I don’t think I could eat a bite.”

Evie turned to her giant skillet and scooped up a mound of crispy bacon to add to the platter. “I hope things calm down soon so we
can talk.” She lifted a sympathetic glance and lowered her voice. “I want to hear about your talk with your sister.”

Heaving a sigh, Kathryn nodded. Her talk with Susan had not been very satisfactory. Or enlightening, either. When they were girls they had talked about everything, had shared every thought, every detail of their lives. Many a time Mama had come into their room in the early morning hours and sternly informed them that their voices were carrying through the walls and that they were keeping the house awake.

But that had been a different Susan. This one delivered a tale of an exciting life working a series of saloons, most recently in Yuba City, which she declared she enjoyed to the fullest. Then, pronouncing herself exhausted from the journey, she had taken possession of the narrow bed and fallen into a deep sleep. Kathryn had begged a spare blanket from Madame—who was much subdued after her conversation with Evie, Louisa, and Letitia—and spent a fitful night on the hard floor, listening to her twin snore. Susan had still been sound asleep when she left this morning.

Speaking of Madame.

She leaned over the platter and whispered to Evie. “And I want to hear about
your
talk too.”

Evie opened her mouth to reply.

The door flew open with a crash. A vaguely familiar Indian woman stood in the doorway. Kathryn barely had time to recognize her as Princess Angeline’s friend, the one who’d delivered the news of the disaster at the Cox’s cabin.

“The Klickitats are coming!” Her scream filled the dining room, an edge of hysteria making her voice shrill. “
Hiu Klickitat copa
Tom Pepper’s house!” She turned and fled, her squat legs pumping as fast as she could make them go.

“What’d she say?” someone asked in the stunned silence.

“I think she said there’s a bunch of Klickitats around Tom Pepper’s house. That’s down on the eastern edge of town.”

At that moment, an explosion blasted through the air. It vibrated in Kathryn’s ears, and she felt the rumble through the soles of her feet.

The room erupted in chaos. Chairs flew as men leaped out of them. Noah descended the ladder leading to the living quarters on the second floor. He leaped to the ground from halfway up and crossed the distance to his wife in two paces.

“Evie, let’s go.” Grabbing her hand, he jerked her forward.

As she was pulled toward the door, Evie reached a hand toward Kathryn. “This is it. Come on.”

Kathryn’s mind raced. Her emergency bundle was in her room. No time for that now, but—

“Susan!”

Her sister would have no idea what was happening or where to go. She whirled in the opposite direction and dashed out the back door, heading for the hotel.

Jason finished his tally of the stacked milled lumber and turned to Will. “That’s it. Every last board counted and ready for loading.”

Will opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. His gaze fixed on something behind Jason. “What’s he doing—”

“They’re here!”

The urgency in the shout left no doubt about who “they” were. Jason whirled to see a man tearing through the sawmill shed, leather-clad arms waving wildly at the men. He barely had time to recognize David’s Duwamish friend, Yoke-Yakeman, before the man completed his circuit and raced through the far end, still shouting, “They’re here! They’re here!”

The workers sprang into action. Men dropped what they were doing and ran for the road, feet pounding and unintelligible shouts filling the air.

“Somebody’s got to send word to Captain Gansevoort,” shouted Will.

An answer was yelled from the midst of the crowd. “They already did!”

Jason ran to the bay side of the shed. The water between the
Decatur
and the shore was dotted with rowboats filled with sailors, pulling against the oars with astounding speed as they headed for the dock. A flash and an explosion erupted on board the warship’s deck. The howitzer. A few seconds later an answering blast sounded from somewhere beyond the town as the missile found a target. A cloud of black smoke exploded into the sky in the east.

Pulse racing and thoughts racing faster, Jason bounded toward the office where his rifle lay in readiness beside the door. Then he joined the throng in a mad sprint for the blockhouse.

Lord, help us!

The ground flew beneath his feet. All around him grim-faced men gave their all to the race for safety. Sounds reached his ears, the retort of gunshot echoing off the clapboard buildings. Gunfire. And the shrilling whoops of Indians at battle that chilled his blood. The noise came from the direction of the blockhouse. Hands clasped around the rifle’s stock, he pushed his legs to greater effort.

When they reached the knoll, people were already streaming through the door. Flashes ignited in the upper and lower windows, and in a glance he saw the thin, deadly barrels of rifles protruding through the loopholes. Screams filled the air, women and children and more than a few deep male voices, as bullets whipped over the heads of the people who scampered for the doorway, stark terror apparent in their faces.

Was Kathryn already inside? Was she safe? If only he had some way of knowing…but there was no time. He caught sight of a familiar face and sprinted the last few feet, screeching to a halt at David’s side.

“Get these people inside,” the man yelled, and, leaving Jason in charge, darted around to the other side of the fortress.

Jason waved his hand above his head, shouting to be heard over the people’s cries. “Hurry. Make room in there.”

A little boy fell and his panicked mother shrieked. Intent on getting to safety, people swarmed around him, and the terrified child curled into a knot on the dirt, head buried in his arms. Jason dashed through the crowd and snatched the boy up. Thrusting him toward his mother, he gripped her arm and propelled her forward, releasing her only when she was safely inside.

The blockhouse was nearly full, the running stream of people reduced to a frenzied few. Noah and Evie ran up together. Her face was white as paste.

“Have you seen Kathryn?” he shouted as a gunfire crackled from somewhere behind him.

They all ducked instinctively.

“I don’t know where she went,” Evie yelled back. “She was right beside us, and then she was gone.”

They turned to scan the road, and then Evie let out a screech. “Louisa!”

Jason looked where she pointed. Louisa Denny ran down the center of the street. She held her daughter tight over her swollen belly, clutching a pouch of her apron in one hand. Another volley of shots rang out and she bent over in a crouch, but did not slow. A blur from the corner of the blockhouse caught the corner of Jason’s eye, and then David dashed down the hill toward his wife.

Breath slammed in his lungs when Jason’s gaze fixed on a pair behind them. Two women were running all-out toward him, arms locked together at the elbows. A mass of dark hair flew out behind one like a mane, while the other—

Panic blurred his vision.

The other’s hair flopped in twin braided loops dangling around her ears.

Shots cracked. A dozen mini-explosions flashed from the forest to his left. A barrage of bullets and arrows flew through the air.

One of the women stumbled.

“Kathryn!”

The scream ripped from his throat, while horror spread over him. Kathryn tumbled to the ground and lay there, unmoving.

Jerked to a stop by Kathryn’s fall, the other woman looked down on her prone body. And then she too collapsed.

Jason flung himself down the hill before he could think about it. Brain numb, thoughts frozen, he flew toward the prostrate pair and reached them a split second before Noah. Dirt sprayed when his boots skidded to a halt.

“Kathryn, are you—” He stopped, words arrested by a tongue dazed with shock. He looked from one unconscious face to the other.