Wilderness Courtship

“It was my pleasure to be able to assist you,” Charity said formally. Stepping closer so she could speak without being easily overheard, she added, “And don’t give that thorny brother-in-law of yours another thought. He doesn’t scare me one bit.”

From behind her a deep voice said, “I heard that.”

Charity whirled and found him grinning at her. “Good,” she said, hands fisted on her hips. “Because the sooner you and I understand each other, the better I’ll like it.”

“I wasn’t trying to intimidate or insult you, madam. I guess I’m too used to dealing with rough seamen.”

“Apparently.” Charity boldly stood her ground. “Listen, Mr. whatever-your-name-is-today, you may be used to having your own way but you can’t hold a candle to some of the folks I’ve dealt with since leaving Ohio.”

Like my late husband, she added to herself. After living through that dreadful marriage and the abuses she had suffered during the journey to California, there wasn’t much that frightened her. Not anymore.

She started past Thorne toward the open door, then paused to add, “You may be a tad overbearing but I can tell you’re not evil. Believe me, I know exactly what that kind of man looks like.”

The flabbergasted expression on Thorne’s face was fleeting and he quickly regained his usual staid composure as she swept past and left the room.

Although Charity couldn’t begin to guess the plight of the little family, she vowed to add them to her daily prayers. Clearly, they were embroiled in some kind of trouble, perhaps dire, and her kind heart insisted she help in some way. If they wouldn’t allow her to render physical assistance she’d simply bring them before her Heavenly Father and let Him do what He would.

A benevolent God had carried her and her sister through many terrible trials and she knew He wouldn’t abandon an innocent little boy and his sweet mother.

The stranger stood outside on the walkway and lit up a cigar. Now that he’d spotted his quarry and knew where they were staying, there was no rush. On the contrary. Given the pleasures of San Francisco’s wilder side he was going to enjoy this part of his assignment. He’d simply post a guard to make sure the Ashtons didn’t leave without his knowledge and stop by to check on their status from time to time. Then, if it looked as if they were going to travel on, he’d be able to follow without being recognized. If not, there would be plenty of opportunity to rent a room at the Montgomery House and take care of business from the inside.

Either way, he and his cohorts couldn’t fail.

Chapter Two

Fashions of the time dictated that both boys and girls wore dresses until the former reached the age of about six. Since Naomi had also chosen to keep her son’s curly dark hair long, it occurred to Thorne that it might be safer to try to pass him off as a girl. Aaron would probably object, of course, but the more Thorne considered the idea, the more it appealed.

He broached the subject as he joined Aaron and the others to go downstairs to supper. “Jacob is awfully pretty for a boy,” he said, smiling and patting the top of the child’s head. “I think it would be safer if we called him Jane, for a while, don’t you?”

As expected, his brother bristled with indignation. “I disagree completely. Think of how confusing that would be, especially for him. We can call him anything you want as long as he remains all boy.”

Thorne shrugged. “Very well. Have it your way. I was just trying to protect you. Jacob is a common enough name so we may as well continue to use it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine as soon as we reach Naomi’s parents in Oregon Territory. They’ll take care of him—and of us.”

“Missionaries? How much protection can you expect from pacifists?”

“Just because Mr. and Mrs. White practice what they preach doesn’t mean they’d allow any harm to come to us. Besides, they’re well acquainted with the natives and settlers on both sides of the border. No strangers will be able to sneak up on their mission without arousing suspicion.”

“I hope you’re right,” Thorne said soberly. “I heard there was an Indian uprising near there.”

“I assume you’re referring to the Whitman massacre?”

“Yes.”

“That occurred seven or eight years ago. Things have settled down considerably since that unfortunate misunderstanding. You can’t blame the Indians. They were fed erroneous information about Dr. Whitman and acted on it because they didn’t understand how measles was spread. Besides, those were the Cayuse and Umatilla. The tribes Naomi’s parents minister to are farther north, around Puget Sound. I understand they’re quite accommodating.”

Naomi chimed in. “That’s right. The Nisqually and Puyallup leaders have actually helped my father in his dealings with less civilized tribes. Mama told us in her letters.”

“If you say so.” Thorne wasn’t about to argue with her and give her more reason to worry. Whatever she and Aaron decided to do next was no concern of his. He’d gotten them safely as far as San Francisco and that was all they had asked of him. Still, he had grown attached to their winsome child during the long, tedious voyage and he could tell the boy liked him, too. It was Jacob’s future that concerned him most.

He felt a tiny hand grasp one of his fingers as he started down the stairs. He smiled at the boy in response. Of all his relatives, Jacob was the one to whom he felt closest. Theirs was a strangely intuitive bond that had begun almost as soon as Aaron and Naomi had boarded the Gray Feather and had deepened as time had passed. Jacob had seemed unusually bright for a two-year-old, as well as curious almost to a fault and Thorne had taught him a lot about the workings of the ship during the long sea voyage. To his chagrin, he had to admit he was really going to miss the youngster when they parted.

Looking up, he noticed that their approach had drawn the attention of the young woman he had infuriated earlier. He greeted her politely as he and the boy reached the bottom of the stairs. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening.” She offered her right hand, then smiled and withdrew it when she noticed that his was being firmly controlled by his diminutive nephew. “Looks as if the nap helped.”

“Resting has certainly improved my outlook,” Thorne said. “Again, I must apologize for unintentionally offending you.”

“No apology is necessary,” Charity said. As the man and boy passed her, Jacob reached for her hand, grabbed her index finger tightly, and kept them together by tugging her along, too.

Charity laughed softly. “I see someone in your family likes me.”

“Apparently. If you’ll forgive my saying so, the boy has excellent taste. You look lovely this evening.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Noting the soft blush on her already rosy cheeks and the shy way she smiled, then averted her gaze, Thorne was confused. He had pictured this woman as a stiff, bossy matron, yet now she was acting more like an ingenue. Truth to tell, he didn’t imagine she was more than nineteen or twenty years old. Still, by the time he was that age he had sailed around the horn more than once and had considered himself any man’s equal.

Leading them to the table, Charity made brief introductions without citing all the travelers’ names. “Those gentlemen over there are new guests, too,” she said. “They’re from Virginia and Pennsylvania, I believe. And this is my father, Emory Beal.” She indicated a thin, gray-haired man at the far end of the rectangular dining table. “Next to him is Mrs. Montgomery. She owns this hotel and several other buildings along Montgomery Street.”

The round-faced, portly woman grinned and patted her upswept, salt-and-pepper hair. “Land sakes, girl. You make me sound like a land baron. I’d of had more to brag on if the storm last November hadn’t carried off sixty feet of the wharf at Clark’s Point. That was pitiful.”

“I’d heard about that damage,” Thorne said. “I’m sorry the losses were yours.”

“Well, these things happen,” the proprietress said with a shrug. “Lately I’ve been concentrating on improvements to this here property. I reckon we’ll have coal gas lamps to brag on soon, just like the Oriental Hotel and the Metropolitan Theater. Can’t let the competition get ahead of me. No, sirree.”

Thorne agreed. “Exactly the reason I’ve chosen the most modern sailing ships. We’ve already seen steam travel on a single vessel as far as the Isthmus of Panama. Someday I hope to be sending my own steamers all the way around the horn.”

“My, my, you don’t say.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Thorne stepped aside to shake hands with Emory while he waited for Aaron to seat his little family. That left Thorne with only one available chair, which happened to place him next to Jacob. Charity was already seated on the boy’s left.

The other guests, all men, nodded brief greetings but were clearly more concerned with dishing up their share from the bowls and platters already on the table than they were with making polite conversation.

Thorne was about to reach for a nearby plate of sliced beef when he saw Charity clasp her hands, bow her head and apparently begin to pray. Since the hotel proprietress had not led any blessing on the food, he saw no reason to join in until he noticed that Jacob had folded his little hands in his lap and closed his eyes, too.

All right, Thorne decided. He was a big enough man to let a woman and child lead him, at least in this instance. Following suit he sat quietly and watched the young woman out of the corner of his eye until she stopped whispering and raised her head. He was about to reach over and tuck a napkin into Jacob’s collar to serve as a bib when Charity did just that.

“I can manage him,” Thorne said.

“It’s no bother. He’s a sweet child. So well mannered. He reminds me of my own nephew.”

“You have family here?” Thorne asked as he plopped a dollop of mashed potatoes onto the boy’s plate.

“My sister and her family live over near Sacramento City,” she answered. “It was just chosen as the official state capitol to take the place of Benicia, you know.” She looked to the child seated next to her. “Would you like some gravy?”