Rainy Day Dreams: 2 (22 page)

John William heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s okay. I left my blocks at Miss Weesa’s house. I miss Miss Weesa.” His smile returned, and he gestured to his companions. “But I have lots of kids to play with today. C’mon!”

The last was shouted toward the other children, and then they were gone, running off toward the next little shack down the road.

Straightening, she turned to face Princess Angeline. “I wondered who’d been minding him. I know Louisa has missed him since his grandfather decided to take him somewhere else. She’s had the care of him since they first arrived. No matter how tired she is, she insists he has never been a burden.”

She mentioned the reason almost as a question. Will’s excuse to Louisa had not rung true from the beginning. No matter how far along with child Louisa was, she rarely suffered from lack of energy. But Kathryn kept her doubts to herself.

For a moment she thought Princess Angeline would not answer. When she did, it was in the same toneless voice that Kathryn found impossible to interpret.

“He feels safer knowing the boy is with an Indian woman than a white woman.”

Interesting. Why did he give a different reason to Princess Angeline than to Louisa?

The woman paused, as though considering whether or not to continue. When she did, it was in a voice so low Kathryn had to lean close to hear. “Though red skin will be no safer than white in the days to come.”

Fear blew its icy breath against the nape of Kathryn’s neck, and questions about Will Townsend evaporated. “You mean there really will be an Indian attack?”

Black eyes held hers while the woman gave a shallow nod. “Klickitats, Nisquallies, Muckleshoots. They are not happy with the white men, or with the redskins who befriend them.”

Kathryn cast an apprehensive glance behind her toward the knoll where the blockhouse was being built. “How soon?”

The shawl-covered shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Soon. Already our houses overflow with those who fear living in the woods where they have spent their whole lives.”

Kathryn looked in the direction the young ones had run. “You mean those little ones are refugees?”

“I do not know the word. They came with their parents, who hope the white men and their guns will save their children from slaughter.”

Mouth dry, Kathryn looked again toward the knoll. “I hope that blockhouse is big enough for everyone. Looks like it’s going to be awfully crowded inside.”

It was a halfhearted attempt at humor but Princess Angeline nodded, her expression serious.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Kathryn bid her farewell and
climbed onto the wagon. She forced herself to restraint and did not push the horse into a run, but her fingers ached from her tight grip on the reins. A strong urge to glance continually over her shoulder at the dark places between the trees possessed her. Were hostile eyes fixed on her from those shadowy places?

So preoccupied was she that a sudden pitch of the wagon took her by surprise. The horse came to a halt.

“What’s the matter?” Fright made her voice high, her words pinched. She flicked the reins with impatience. “Come on. Move.”

The animal made an attempt to obey, but the wagon moved forward only a few inches before stopping and rolling slowly backward. Leaning over the edge, she saw why. The wheels were mired in mud. Apparently she had failed to notice a soggy place in the road.

“No, no, no!”

Now she did look back, prepared to shout to Princess Angeline for help. Not a soul in sight. Apparently the lady had gone inside, and the children with her. Besides, she had covered more than half the distance to the wharf. Twisting back around toward the front, she scanned the area before her. A small boat, loaded with sailors, was just approaching the dock from the direction of the
Decatur
. Relief washed over her.

“Hello!” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Over here.” Waving wildly, she drew their attention and several waved back. “I’m stuck,” she shouted. “Will you help me?”

“Hang tight, girlie,” came the answer, along with a few whoops and a loud whistle that made her more than a little uneasy. Still, what choice did she have? She glanced at the ground below her. Perhaps the sacrifice of her shoes wasn’t a bad choice after all. But no, she couldn’t abandon the horse, wagon, and four crates of sandwiches in the mud.

The rowboat pulled alongside the dock and a group of sailors climbed out. They hurried along the wharf, eager faces fixed on her, and jumped from the platform to the road. Mud splattered when
their boots hit the ground. A new kind of fear kindled to life in her at the sight of the intent, almost wolfish gazes some of them fixed on her as they neared.

At their approach the group parted, encircling the wagon. She was surrounded by what seemed an entire battalion.

“Over here, girlie.” A pair of hands at her right lifted toward her. “I’ll help you down.”

Another time she might have informed the man that she hadn’t been called
girlie
since she was a child in pinafores, but at that moment she found it hard to speak around the frightened lump that had arisen in her throat.

A lean, wiry sailor beside him scowled. “Shove off, Terry. Ye’ll drop her like you dropped that crate of apples last summer.” He thrust his hands toward Kathryn as well. “Come to me, gal. Old Barney’ll take care of you.”

“I’d like to take care of her myself,” said someone on the other side, and the sly tone in his voice gave the words a meaning that sent heat into Kathryn’s face. A chorus of snickers answered him.

“I won’t either drop her.” The first man, Terry, placed a hand on Barney’s chest and shoved. “C’mere, girl.”

She had better move quickly or a fight might erupt. Forcing a shaky smile, she reached down to take the proffered arm. Instead he grasped her hand and in the next instant she found herself pulled roughly off the wagon and swung up into a pair of surprisingly strong arms.

The man hefted her as though testing her weight, a most unpleasant sensation that caused her to issue a tiny, surprised exclamation.

“She ain’t no heavier than a young’un.”

“I ain’t never seen no young’un with a body like that,” said someone, and this time the comment was met with a chorus of raucous guffaws.

Kathryn mastered her frozen tongue. “Please, put me down.”

“You’ll sink in mud up to your pretty little knees,” said Terry with a low, disturbing rumble in his voice.

Horrified at the mention of her knees in the company of these woman-hungry seamen, Kathryn pushed at his shoulder with a balled fist. “I can manage.”

He ignored her and started toward the dock. Before he had gone three steps, another man jumped in front of him. “Let me have a go with her.”

Without warning she was wrenched bodily from Terry’s arms. Startled, she gave a little scream. The others seemed to find that funny, and her face burned anew at the sound of their rough laughter.

“My turn.”

Barney tried to jerk her away, an act that so infuriated Terry that he gave a bellow that left her ears ringing. His arms tightened like steel cables and she was crushed against a stone-like chest. Someone grabbed her coat at the back of her neck and pulled, and the buttoned collar pressed against her throat. Choking, she began to kick her feet.

“Put me down this instant!”

Her command went unheard, muffled by a muscled chest and drowned out by the men’s rowdy laughter. Fear gave way to fury. She balled her fists and began beating her captor’s face. Startled, his grip loosened. That was the moment Barney had been waiting for, and she was jerked roughly away. Drawing a deep breath, she let out a scream, the volume fed by anger.

“Hey! What’s going on here?”

The shout rode over the top of the sailors’ ruckus. They fell silent and moved quickly to form a wall in front of her.

“Nothing that concerns you,” answered Terry, the man whose face she had hit. “You boys go on about your business.”

But Kathryn recognized the voice. She twisted around, still held tight in the seaman’s grip, and spied Big Dog towering head and
shoulders above a handful of millworkers. Apparently their shift at the mill had ended at exactly the right time.

Red spoke in a voice that held all the menace of a growling wolf. “I don’t know who you are, boy, but you’d better put that lady down real gentle-like.”

Feeling a bit braver with the arrival of her friends, Kathryn reached up and grabbed Barney’s ear between her thumb and finger. When she gave a vicious twist, he shouted, “Ow!” and dropped her. She stumbled for a step, but landed with her feet moving and pushed her way between two sailors. Never had she been so happy to see anyone as these men who one week ago had been complete strangers.

“We didn’t hurt her none,” said one of the sailors. “She asked us for help, that’s all.”

“For
help
.” Now that she stood in the protective presence of her friends, she gave her anger full head. “I didn’t ask to be insulted and manhandled.”

Big Dog stepped in front of her and drew himself up to his full threatening height. “Here in Seattle we don’t take kindly to people insulting ladies.”

“Yeah.” Murphy moved beside him while rolling his sleeve up above a flexing muscle. “Especially not by a pack of bilge rats.”

To a man, the sailors’ expressions hardened, and she saw several hands clench into fists. This could get out of hand quickly.

“It’s okay. I’m not hurt.” She forced a smile and flashed it equally between both groups. “No harm done.”

She might as well have not spoken for all the attention paid to her. Narrow-eyed glares were exchanged as the men on both sides moved to stand shoulder to shoulder in two lines facing each other.

The spokesman for the sailors, Terry, turned his head and spat without interrupting his glare at Big Dog. “Who you callin’
bilge rat,
dirtbag?”

Swallowing, Kathryn lifted her chin and spoke loudly. “Really. I’m fine. And I did ask for their help.”

“I think he was talking to you, bilge rat.” Big Dog took another step forward, and as one the line of millworkers moved with him. “Only maybe he should have said
squid.
”

In the face of a glare from a mountainous man like Big Dog, Kathryn would have melted into her boots. The seaman did no such thing. Incredulous, she watched as his chest inflated and a furious grimace settled over his mouth.

“I’m gonna swab the deck with your ugly carcass.”

As the last word left his lips, the man pulled back a balled fist and, quicker than she could blink, landed a shot on Big Dog’s jaw. The crack seemed to resonate in a pregnant silence that lasted a fraction of a second. That was how long it took the huge man to land his own punch and send the seaman sprawling in the mud.

That blow ignited a wildfire. The two lines flew at each other and her ears filled with growls, shouts, and the sickening thud of fists on flesh. Someone was thrown backward, and she was almost knocked off her feet when he glanced off her shoulder on the way to the ground.

“Get outta here, Miss Kathryn,” shouted Murphy as he picked himself up and dove back into the fray.

She did. With a speed that would have made the cavalry proud, she lifted her skirts and dashed across the short distance to the dock, where she turned to watch in dismay as her friends defended her honor.

“G’night, Don,” Jason called with a wave for the evening shift foreman. “If you need anything, send a message up the hill.”