Would-Be Wilderness Wife (14 page)

“But it should be,” John protested, glancing among them. “‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.' That's what the Good Book says.”

“That may be what the Bible says,” Simon answered, leaning back on the bench and crossing his arms over his chest, “but Adam only had to worry about Eve. We might as well face facts. There aren't many women like Ma.”

“Isn't that why Asa Mercer brought all those ladies?” John asked, frowning.

Simon eyed him as if he suspected his brother had been reading too many books. “The women Mercer brought out seem more interested in town life than helping make a home in the wilderness.”

“And you think Catherine is different?” Drew challenged.

Simon dropped his arms and straightened. “Yes, I do. I haven't seen a thing about our lives to quail her yet.”

“Neither have I,” James agreed. “And we've thrown our best at her—cougars, wild men, John's cooking.”

John picked up Drew's biscuit and threw it at his brother. James caught it and popped it into his mouth with a grin.

Drew set aside the cold remains of his dinner, no longer hungry. “Then you do intend to court her.”

Simon eyed James, and James eyed Simon, then both looked to John. As if in concert, all three nodded. Drew felt as if the food he had just eaten might come back up.

Simon turned to him. “No, we aren't going to court her. She clearly favors you.”

Drew blinked, feeling as if he'd missed a moment of the conversation. “What?”

“You heard me,” Simon said, eyes narrowing. “You're the one to court Catherine Stanway, and we're going to help you do it.”

Chapter Fifteen

T
he things he did for his family. Drew led his brothers back across the clearing for the main house, the stock safely enclosed for the night. He didn't agree with his brothers' logic that everyone in the family would perish without someone like Catherine to help them. He'd done pretty well keeping them all safe until now. He didn't agree with their assessment that she favored him. At times, he wasn't sure she even liked him. He certainly didn't agree that he needed their help to court a woman. As Beth had pointed out, once he set his sights on something, he was as apt as their mother to achieve it.

But if anyone in the Wallin household was going to court Catherine Stanway, he knew he'd go mad if it wasn't him.

The ladies had cleaned up after dinner and returned Levi to a chair next to the fire. Catherine sat nearby as if to keep an eye on him. Her gaze brushed Drew's as he entered, her smile lifting briefly before she looked away. Was this odd feeling in his stomach what other people called butterflies? Maybe he should have eaten more dinner.

Ma was seated in her rocking chair, a basket of mending beside her, needle and thread in hand. Flitting from one brother to another, Beth seemed to be trying to avoid their mother's gaze lest she be put to work, too. His youngest brother brightened as Drew and the others let themselves in.

“There you are, Simon,” he proclaimed. “Go get your fiddle, and let's have a song.”

“Because you're in such good condition to dance,” James teased, coming to tweak the stockinged toe peeking out from Levi's splint. Levi scowled at the reminder.

“I have something else planned for tonight,” Simon said. “Catherine, are you ready for that reading?”

She rose and went to retrieve the book from the mantel, where she must have set it before dinner. “Perhaps, but I do have a question about the selection you chose, Mr. Wallin.”

Drew couldn't help but chuckle. His brother may have asked her to use his given name, but either she chose not to or the gesture meant so little to her she'd forgotten his request. She came to their sides and held out the open book. “Are you certain you want to read this part?”

Simon took the book from her and gazed down at it. “Hmm, perhaps not. I'll find something better. Give me a moment.” He turned away, flipping the pages.

As if they knew what to expect, the others settled themselves around the room, James and John on the floor near Levi's chair and Beth, likewise, curled up at Ma's feet.

Drew knew he needed to say something to Catherine, who stood waiting patiently beside him. Simon would have been polished, James playful and John profound. For the life of him, he couldn't think of an appropriate comment. He could hardly compliment her gown; she'd been forced to wear the same one for the past three days, and the blue skirts were beginning to sag from their adventures. She must own a mirror, so it made no sense to tell her that her hair was as soft as moonlight. And he refused to talk about her lips being as red as the wild woodland strawberries, for when he looked at her now he wondered what it would like to taste them.

Oh, but he was in trouble.

Annoyed with himself, he went to stand by the stairs.

James glanced over his shoulder as Drew passed. “You know Pa built those very well, brother. You don't need to hold them up.”

Some help he was.

Catherine followed him. “Everything all right in the clearing? Any sign of the cougar?”

At least that was a safe subject that didn't remind him of what his brothers expected. “Everything seems quiet. My biggest concern was Levi, and he's doing surprisingly well.”

She laughed, and the sound bathed him in light. “It would take a great deal more than a broken leg to unsettle your brother.” She cast him a glance from the corners of her eyes. “But I do wish you'd tell your other brothers to cease fawning over me.”

He nearly choked. “Oh, I expect the fawning has stopped for now.”

She frowned as if she wasn't sure what he meant, but Simon called her just then, and she excused herself to move to his brother's side by the fire.

Drew couldn't deny that they made a fine-looking couple, with Simon all angles and Catherine all soft curves. But he'd never noticed how tiny his brother's eyes looked when he squinted at the words on the page. Did Catherine notice? Did she mind? Did she think Drew's eyes were squinty?

Please help me master my thoughts, Lord!

“I found just the thing,” Simon was saying to Catherine, head bent as if to be closer to her. “I'll read the man's part, you the lady's.” His large hand cupped hers as they held the book open together. Drew could imagine holding her hand that way, cradled in his. She'd smile that brilliant smile of hers, and the day would brighten.

As if Simon was as affected by her touch, he cleared his throat. Then he released her and stepped away.

“On second thought, I'm not sure I'm the best one to do this justice,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “Drew, come read.”

Everyone turned to him, looks ranging from surprised to amused. The hint of a smile played about his brother's lips. He wasn't sure what Simon was doing, but he decided to go along with it.

Though Catherine's brows were up, she did not protest as Drew went to take his brother's place at her side.

Drew offered her a smile, then slipped his hand under hers. Her fingers were warm and supple, strong, he thought, from her work as a nurse. Yet he could feel the slightest tremor in them. He ran one hand farther up her wrist to steady her and heard her suck in a breath.

Now his hands were trembling as well, and he had a sudden urge to run for the door. Best to plow ahead. Glancing down, he looked to see where Simon had directed them to read. And then he very much feared he'd have to kill his brother, if the reading didn't kill Drew first.

“Right there, Mr. Wallin,” Catherine said, her other hand coming to point to the stanza as if he might have mistaken his way.

Drew's smile was tight. So was his throat. “‘He was a man of honor, of noble and generous nature,'” he began reading.

Levi snickered and was hushed.

“‘Though he was rough, he was kindly,'” Drew continued. “‘She knew how during the winter he had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as a woman's.'”

“That's our Drew,” James called out, and this time both John and Levi laughed.

“Let him be,” their mother scolded. “Go on, Andrew.”

He would never make it through this. Drew cleared his throat. “‘Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and headstrong. Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty and placable always. Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was little of stature.'” He glared at his brothers to keep them from commenting. “‘For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous. Any woman in Plymouth, nay any woman in England, might be as happy and proud to be called the wife of—'”

“Drew Wallin!” Levi yelled.

“‘Miles Standish,'” Drew thundered.

Catherine did not so much as wince at his raised voice. Her tone was firm and polished as she took up her part.

“‘But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language, quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes over-running with laughter, said, in a tremulous voice, “Why don't you speak for yourself, Drew?”'”

Drew blinked. His father and mother had read them this poem countless times. The name should have been John, and he'd expected his younger brother to make much of it. Had Catherine really just said Drew's name instead?

He glanced out to find that everyone in the family was staring at Catherine. So he hadn't mistaken her.

She must have realized her gaff, for she was turning crimson. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to continue reading, but no words came out.

James hopped to his feet. “Here, let me take the next stanza. I'd be delighted to read, at length. In falsetto.”

Levi cringed.

“Have pity on us, Catherine,” Ma said with an encouraging smile. “Your voice is so much better than James's.”

James threw up his hands. “And you claim to be my mother!”

“Hush,” Beth scolded. She had scooted forward on the rug. “I want to hear more.”

But Drew didn't think Catherine could take any more. He could hear the breath hissing out of her as if she was having trouble controlling it.

“John,” he said, taking the book from her and closing it. “You've always been good for a puzzle. Come up with one of your twenty-question posers.”

John grinned. “Delighted!” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, let me see...”

Levi and Beth leaned closer as if determined to guess what was on his mind. Ma cast Drew a glance before doing likewise. Simon and James, however, were frowning at him.

Drew turned his back on them, blocking their view of Catherine.

“It's all right,” he said. “It was only a poem.”

She nodded, fast and hard. “Yes, a poem. Just a silly poem. Thank you for pointing that out. If you'll excuse me, I should retire. It's been a long day.” She started around him, and Drew turned with her.

“I'll walk you to the cabin.”

“No!” She must have realized how firmly she'd spoken, because her color faded as all gazes returned to her again. “That is, there's no need for you to leave your family on my account. I'm perfectly capable of walking across the clearing.”

“You forget,” Drew said, taking her elbow and finding it tense. “There's a cougar prowling about. Until we're sure it's left the area, no one goes anywhere without a gun or escort.”

She pulled back and glanced around the room until her gaze hit Simon. “Mr. Wallin, would you accompany me? Surely we have imposed on your brother enough today.”

What did she think was an imposition? Carrying Levi back from the tree? He'd recuperated from that in less than a half hour. Had the slip of her tongue truly so overset her? Where was her commendable composure?

Simon straightened away from the wall. “Of course.” He nodded to James. “We should turn in, as well. Come along, James.”

Simon picked up the rifle, James a lantern. Then he went to open the door for Catherine. She paused beside Beth and Levi.

“If you need me tonight, come find me,” she told them.

“I will,” Beth promised.

Without another look in Drew's direction, Catherine exited.

John left Beth and Levi arguing over the answer to his riddle and joined Drew by the fire. “That didn't go as well as it should have.”

“No, it did not,” their mother put in, setting aside her mending. “Andrew Wallin, if you intend to court that girl, you'll need to work harder than that.”

John met his gaze, and Drew thought his own must be just as panicked. The last thing they needed was for their headstrong mother to throw herself into the fray.

“No one said I was courting, Ma,” he started, but Beth clapped her hands, hopping to her feet.

“Oh, you decided to court her after all!” She seized Drew's hand. “I have so many ideas.”

Perhaps a young lady's opinion would help. His sister was entirely devoted to that society magazine after all. “Oh?” Drew said. “Such as?”

Beth's eyes glowed. “You could take her for a picnic by the lake.”

“There's a cougar running about,” John reminded her.

“All right,” Beth said, undeterred. “A picnic in the barn, then.”

“The barn?” Levi rolled his eyes. “What girl wants to be sweet-talked in a barn?”

“There will be no sweet talk,” Drew said with all the solemnity he could manage. “Anywhere.”

Beth shook her head. “Oh, Drew, there has to be some. That's what courting is all about.”

“I thought you never wanted to court,” John challenged.

“I don't want to marry,” Beth corrected him. “That doesn't meant I don't want to be courted. Every girl wants to be courted.”

Drew frowned. “Why?”

She stared at him as if appalled he had to ask. “Because it's wonderful! That's what that entire poem is about—the beauty of courting. Pretty words and longing looks and sweet sighs. Walking hand in hand, holding the prayer book together in church, sharing secrets.” She peered closer at her brother. “Haven't you ever wanted to do those things?”

“No,” Drew said. The panic he'd felt when he'd considered his mother's interference was nothing to the fear that bubbled up at Beth's outlandish ideas. “I appreciate everyone's help, but I'm capable of courting a woman on my own.”

“If that was your best effort,” Beth said, wrinkling her nose, “I don't believe you.”

“That's enough, Elizabeth Ann,” Ma said, gathering up her sewing. “I think it's time we all went to bed. Tomorrow will be another day, another opportunity.” She smiled at Drew. “And I know you will make her a marvelous husband.”

Drew only wished he had his mother's confidence. For he feared with all the demands on his life, he'd make a terrible husband for any woman, especially one as sought after as Catherine.

* * *

Catherine hurried across the clearing for the cabin, mist wrapped about her like a damp towel. Simon paced her on one side, rifle in the crook of one arm; James walked on the other side, lantern held high to light their way. Though the glow pushed back the darkness, she felt as if her escorts were walls closing in on her.

Why? Simply because she'd all but asked Drew to propose to her.

Where was her mind? Why had she slipped and used his name? The word
John
had been clearly written on the page. Her brother, Nathan, had once read the poem aloud to her and her friends over tea. She knew her part.

Why did her heart persist in offering Drew's name instead? Had she no control where he was concerned?