Mackinnons #02 For All the Right Reasons (34 page)

The door closed and all Katherine could do was stand there and wonder. The uncomfortable unknown stretched before her, yawning like a giant mouth eating its way toward her. But one thing Katherine had was resilience. She might get pushed, or even knocked down, but she had enough pluck to bounce back. So far she had suffered a temporary setback, nothing more. She would see to that.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Alex
! She flew to the door and jerked it open. Disappointment was instantaneous. Captain Steptoe stood on the other side. “I wanted to let you know Humboldt Bay has been sighted. We should be docking in less than an hour.”

She didn’t have a minute to waste. Forty-five minutes later, she had changed into a bright green challis with red and gold braid twisted and looped over her shoulders, shiny brass buttons trimming the front. The rest of her new clothing had all been packed and two seamen had come for it less than ten minutes ago. She stood before the small mirror, anxious to see her hurried results. She wanted to look as
colorful
as possible in her new dress when Alex came for her.

And she did. But it wasn’t Alex who came for her. It was Captain Steptoe. He walked her up to the deck and she had her first glimpse of Humboldt Bay. It began to sprinkle and Captain Steptoe excused himself for a moment. Katherine hadn’t been standing on deck for long when he returned. She had opened her umbrella, keeping little more than her head and shoulders dry. In spite of Captain Steptoe’s offer to take her below until it eased up a bit, she refused, having already vowed to never put another foot in that miserable cabin for as long as she lived. She wasn’t really angry at Captain Steptoe, or even his fine ship for that matter, but she was disappointed and hurt that Alex had sent Captain Steptoe instead of coming for her himself.

“Well, at least wear this,” Captain Steptoe said at last, putting a long waterproof coat over her shoulders.

“I can’t take your coat,” she said.

“I’ve got another one.”

Katherine didn’t say anything else. She didn’t wish to be rude to Captain Steptoe, but she needed some time alone to get control of what was going on inside her. No matter how many times she told herself she was going to be cheerful, she found it harder and harder as time passed and Alex never appeared. At last, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Are we waiting for Alex?”

Captain Steptoe cleared his throat. “Ahem! No…that is, we are waiting for the boat to come back.”

“From where?”

“Shore. Alex and a few of the men went ahead to make everything ready.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, but she really didn’t.

As she had always been able to do, Katherine pulled herself out of her downward turn and forced large doses of optimism down her throat. She wasn’t going to let one more tiny setback spoil the beauty of her marriage to the man she had loved all her life. As she had been told often enough, it was an answer to a lifelong prayer and nothing should be allowed to steal the joy of it.

At last the boat returned and Katherine was rowed to shore. She saw him standing with a group of men on the dock ahead. She knew it was Alex, even though the dim gray light gave little color to him or the tall towering trees which seemed to melt together behind him into complete darkness. By the time the boat reached the dock and Alex came to lift her to dry land, the wind was coming through the tops of the trees with a low, moaning sound that sounded like the sea.

Katherine looked about her at the dismal surroundings.
It’s a wild, dreary place, gloomy enough to give a body the shudders,
she thought, in spite of all the wonderful things Alex had told her when she had asked him about her new home.

“You’ll learn to love it. It’s beautiful country, and as far as business is concerned, it’s perfect. The forests are so dense you can’t ride through on a horse, but there’s a flat point of land near a river that was just what we needed for our mill, and it’s close enough to deep water that we can load our timber on to ships for transport. The hills slope right down to the water, so the logs are easier to get down, and everywhere you look the land is covered with trees—Douglas fir, redwood, hemlock, Sitka spruce, cedar—all towering overhead a hundred feet and more, the redwoods going over three hundred. Some of the cones are over two feet long and five inches across. I swear, you’ve never seen anything like it.”

And of course she hadn’t.

After Alex’s enthusiastic description, she had expected to see something spectacular, a paradise where everything was new and fresh and green, the air crisp and smelling as fragrant as a Christmas tree. But that wasn’t the sight that greeted her. The logging camp was a crude assembly of ugly cabins sitting on soil that had been scraped bare of all vegetation, then littered with piles of scattered bark, tree limbs and dotted with smoldering piles of sawdust whose smoke clung low to the ground, burning her eyes and taking her breath away. In a way that was good. She buried her face in her muff and coughed. At least she could use the smoke as an excuse for a face that looked half crumpled and close to crying.

“Watch your step,” Alex said, coming up beside her and taking her arm. Katherine looked down in just enough time to sidestep the biggest cow pattie she had ever seen. Her eyes flew up to Alex. “Oxen,” was all he said before he guided her away.

She fell into step beside him, sensing the change in him toward her and feeling the tension of it stretch dangerously close to snapping. When they reached the house he helped her step onto the porch. When she turned to look back at him, he said, “Well, what do you think?”

He was talking about her surroundings and she knew that as well as he, but her thoughts weren’t going in that direction any more than his were and she knew that too. They were both standing on the porch now, looking at each other in a way neither of them had dared since San Francisco. Unaware of their surroundings they took in the changes the years had made in each other, wondering what the other one was thinking. In Katherine’s eyes were memories and feelings she realized she should have kept hidden, for she felt that was the reason Alex broke the contact and stepped back, holding himself stiff and erect, looking at her in a completely detached way, putting more distance between them than had existed before.
This should be the happiest moment of my life.

But it wasn’t.

Here she was, on the receiving end of indifference from a man she had known all her life, a man who had asked her to marry him, and she was in love enough, and hopeful enough, to think they needed more time to reacquaint themselves. She wasn’t going to let her questions and misgivings come between them. He had been in love with her sister for years and this was the first time the two of them were together in any capacity other than friends. It didn’t bother her that he had been in love with Karin. She had always known she was better suited to Alex than Karin was.

She reminded herself once again of what Adrian and Fanny had said:
Why
wasn’t important. The important thing was that he had married her. Katherine looked at him intently, fighting the feeling of dejection that had hovered about her since her arrival.
Think of something happy
. The memory of the way he had kissed her the day he left for California, and again on their wedding night came clear as crystal into her mind. She saw the distance between them written on his face. Her first inclination was to run inside and slam the door and leave him standing there with his distance. But then she looked deeper, and she saw the emotions she had overlooked before, the confusion, the uncertainty. She felt sympathy for him. He was probably as uncomfortable as she was. “I know you must think me terribly callous for not having said something earlier, but I do thank you Alex.” Her voice softened. “The clothes are beautiful and far lovelier than anything I ever dreamed of owning—much too lovely to be worn in a lumbering camp.”

“They are fitting for my wife. I expect you to look the part.”

Hold your temper. Don’t let him goad you. Remember you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar
. She took a fortifying breath, swallowed, and gave her best imitation of a smile. But when she spoke, the only good thing she could say was, “Then I shall do my best not to disappoint you.”

“Thank you,” he said. Alex was no fool. He could tell by the look on her face that his harshness had hurt her, and in turn, her hurt affected him. He didn’t want to hurt Katherine. She was innocent in all of this.
But Adrian sure as hell isn’t!

Alex couldn’t remember when he had been so angry as he was when Adrian sauntered up to him on deck early that afternoon and told him, “I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a few things for Katherine from Captain Steptoe’s stores.”

“What kind of things?”

“Clothes…underthings, the usual.”

Alex let fly with a right that sent Adrian reeling backwards. Holding his aching jaw, Adrian said, “What was that for?”

“I took the liberty of thanking you.” He grabbed Adrian by the collar and hauled him up against him. “Stay away from my wife. Understand? If there’s any giving around here, I’ll do it.”

“I didn’t let on that they were from me. Katherine thinks you…”

Alex hit him again.

“What in the hell’s gotten into you, Alex? I tried to tell you she thinks they’re from you.”

“But they’re not, are they? Don’t do my thinking for me, Adrian. Katherine is my wife, not yours. I’ll handle it my way.” Alex had been furious all afternoon, partly because Adrian had way overstepped his bounds; partly because he hadn’t thought of it first. Little did it matter that he was still too shocked and angry from this marriage to think clearly. Adrian had acted rashly, and he had overreacted, but it was Katherine who had suffered, because Alex had been too angry to go to her, and leaving her alone all afternoon wasn’t wise. Even he knew that much. Katherine was smart. She would wonder why. If she asked him, what could he say? He had answered her with one lie. He didn’t want to make it two.

He looked down at Katherine’s sweet face. She smiled and her entire being seemed to light up from within. She was trying. He could do no less. He smiled back.

The smoke from the sawmill hovered over the camp like a low cloud, choking and burning the back of her throat. The air was stagnant with the smell of smoke, the lubricants used to thin pitch, drying wool clothes, and the steamy aroma of boiled beef and potatoes coming from the cookhouse. Katherine sighed and looked about her, seeing nothing but a motley cluster of gaping men, a few thin dogs, a cluster of tiny cabins, a bunk-house, and a pigpen. She wanted to cry. For a minute she just stood there amid the tools and trappings of the lumberman’s trade, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, her green eyes burning from smoke and the threat of tears. Here we are standing like two complete idiots grinning at each other.

Alex, make love to me.

Sweet Katherine, if you knew what was in my mind right now, you’d be horrified. I want to pick you up in my arms and carry you inside and peel all those layers from you and see what lies beneath.

She watched him swing down off the porch. “Alex?”

He paused, turning to look at her.

“Is…is this where I’m going to stay?” She saw the muscle work in his jaw.

“For the time being, until the roads are cleared of logs and we can get up to the house. This infernal rain has slowed everything down. If things aren’t cleared by supper, I’ll take you up to the house on horseback, but you may have to wait until tomorrow for your trunks.” He looked over his shoulder toward the wagon. “Some of the men will be bringing your trunks up here for now. You can show them where you want them. Supper is in the cookhouse at six.” Knowing he was being harsh again, he tried to soften things a bit by saying, “I wish I had time to show you around, but that will have to wait. I’ve been gone too long and this is a very critical time for us. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

He was still standing there looking at her when Katherine glanced toward the cookhouse, suddenly aware that the small motley group of men had grown to at least fifty and every one of them was staring at her. “Are there any women about?” she asked, her throat suddenly dry.

“Only one,” Alex said.” You’ll meet her at supper.” He tipped his hat and turned away, just as a commotion erupted in the cookhouse.

Katherine’s gaze drifted in that direction, lured by the sound of something metal being banged, followed by the sudden, high-pitched chatter of someone on the run. The door to the cookhouse slammed open and a small man dressed in baggy black clothing and a funny little hat shot out, a long black braid down his back, the tiniest black slippers on his feet. “Molly P. crazy! Wong not work here! Molly P. crazy!” he said, repeating it over and over as he dodged chunks of wood being tossed at him by someone inside the cookhouse.

Alex laughed. “It seems you won’t have to wait ‘til supper to meet the other woman in camp after all,” Alex said.

“Who is she?” Katherine asked, looking around. Another piece of wood sailed out the door.
What is she?

“She’s the cook’s assistant. She’s the one chunking the kindling.”

“I gathered that,” Katherine said as she squinted in the direction of the cookhouse, trying to see into the dark interior. Suddenly someone stepped out holding a squawking chicken by the feet. Katherine’s first thought was,
Trees aren’t the only things of enormous size around here.
If that was a woman holding that chicken, she was the biggest woman Katherine had ever seen.

“Come on,” Alex said, coming her way and taking her arm. “I’ll take you over to meet M.P.”

“Let me freshen up a bit. My hair is wet.”

Alex looked her over. “You look fine to me, and your hair will dry. It’s stopped raining. Come on.” He took her by the arm and led her toward the woman, who loomed larger with each step they took. As they reached the bottom of the steps, Alex said, “M.P., I want you to meet Katherine, my…wife.”

M.P. wore a very pink dress which clashed horribly with her red cheeks but went rather nicely with her pink hair—and it did look pink, although Katherine supposed it could be called a light, pinkish red. Still, pink seemed the better description. As for the rest of her—the dress reminded Katherine of something a madam would wear. It was a bit fussy for a cookhouse and the neck was lined with jet fringe that trembled when she talked—and Katherine could understand that. She felt a bit like trembling herself. The woman was an ominous as thunder.