Читать книгу Mail Order Mix-Up - Christine Johnson - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Roland gagged on a mouthful of water.

“What?” He coughed. Repeatedly. “Marry?”

“Yes, marry.” Fiona O’Keefe’s gaze bored into him. “You’ve met us. Now which one do you choose?”

What on earth had gotten into that woman? He had not once stated he was in the market for a wife, yet she seemed to think he was supposed to pick one this very instant. Moreover, this choice was supposed to come from some undefined group of women that he had supposedly met, and which clearly included her.

He took a gulp of water to give himself time to rein in his shock and replace it with the calm of a placid lake. “I believe there has been some mistake.”

“Don’t think you can wiggle out of this,” Fiona replied. “Pearl and Amanda and that Louise Smythe also want to know your answer.”

He instinctively looked to Pearl, whose lips were pressed into a grim line. Amanda, on the other hand, had paled to the point that he wondered if she would faint again. He searched his memory for the last woman mentioned. Smythe. Smythe. Ah, yes, the small mousy woman who lost her husband in the war. She was not at the table. Given Fiona’s obvious designs on him, he was surprised she mentioned the other women. By his count, that put the eager prospects at four.

Whatever those ladies were up to, he was not going to marry. Not now. Not in the foreseeable future. He couldn’t imagine where they’d gotten that idea. For a moment he recalled the fake advertisement he’d written as a joke to jolt his brother out of mourning, but he’d thrown that into the fire. None of them could possibly have seen it.

Judging by each woman’s rapt attention, they expected an answer.

Well, if there was one thing Roland Decker excelled at, it was his ability to escape from tight situations. No woman was going to snare him in her net.

So he guffawed and turned to Holmes. “Isn’t that like a woman, always looking for a husband?”

He could feel Fiona’s indignation boring into the side of his head.

Holmes, after an initial chuckle, turned serious. “Domestication never hurt a man.”

“Except when it cuts into his attention and time starting up and running a new operation,” Roland pointed out.

He took great care not to look any of the women in the eye, though he could not miss Amanda’s distress, for she was seated between him and Holmes. Moreover, Pearl shuffled in her seat. He could imagine the glare she’d fixed on him.

Instead of agreeing with him, Holmes continued to press his point. “A diligent wife understands the demands placed on her husband and assists him in every possible way.”

That wasn’t Roland’s experience. His brother’s late wife had placed demands on him. Eva had hated Singapore, hated his work, pleaded with him to move back to the city. Garrett had nearly caved in to her demands before the accident.

“Mr. Holmes is right,” Pearl chimed in, the high color dotting her cheeks mirroring the strands of red in her chestnut hair. “Marriage is a true partnership of like interests. Husband and wife working in unison can accomplish much more together than apart. Did not King Solomon note that a two-strand cord is stronger than one?”

Roland savored her persuasive determination. She might be a worthy partner—if he was in the market for a wife. But experience had taught him that words meant nothing. Promises made in the heat of first attraction vanished once the wedding bells stopped pealing.

“Clearly you have not been married, Miss Lawson,” Roland said.

That would have silenced most women. Not Pearl.

“Have you, Mr. Decker?”

He laughed. “Touché. I have witnessed many marriages, though.”

“And those have jaded you on the institution?”

“Let’s say I’ve seen its shortcomings.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Fascinating as this debate is, I am needed in the wheelhouse.” He rose. “Please excuse me, Miss O’Keefe. Miss Lawson. Miss Porter. Gentlemen.”

“Of course,” Pearl murmured.

Though the captain had admirably engaged Fiona O’Keefe most of the evening, his departure now set her attention squarely on Roland. “You did not answer my question, Mr. Decker.”

He folded his napkin and set it on the table. “I thought I did, but if you must hear it plainly, I am not in the market for a wife.” He rose. “The day has been long, and tomorrow I must rise early to attend to business. I bid you good night, ladies.”

* * *

“What are we going to do?” Amanda whispered to Pearl when they’d reached the promenade deck.

Pearl scrambled to come up with an answer. Mr. Decker’s denial might have disheartened Amanda, but it infuriated her. After the first flush of selfish excitement that he was not interested in Fiona, the full import of his words struck home. He did not want to marry anyone. Yet he had placed an advertisement in a New York newspaper.

What sort of man did such a thing? She had thought him solicitous and compassionate, not the type who would tempt women to leave their lives behind only to disavow he’d ever suggested they do so. If not for the many diners surrounding them and for Amanda’s fragile state, she would have given Mr. Decker a piece of her mind.

He must have sensed the imminent danger. That’s why he’d left so quickly. Good riddance, in her estimation. However, that did not ease Amanda’s distress. Pearl had to set aside her anger and find a way to soothe her friend. So, she paused at the railing and took a deep breath.

Overhead, stars sprinkled the moonless sky. The seas were still calm, and the Milwaukee plied the water with ease. The night temperatures were pleasant. Under other circumstances, they might while away the hours pointing out the constellations. Instead she must find some way to turn wormy crab apples into apple pie.

Pearl made her decision in an instant. “We continue on to Singapore.” She hoped her certainty would bolster her friend’s rapidly sinking hopes. “Something good will come of this. I’m certain of it.”

“How can you be so sure? Not only did Mr. Decker not expect us, but he doesn’t want to marry. What happened? Was the advertisement a cruel joke?”

Pearl could not tell her that she’d begun to think it was. Possible explanations tumbled through her head. The most far-fetched she discarded at once, but one lodged and refused to let go. Mr. Decker had claimed that marriage would take away from running a new business. What if the promise of marriage was simply a ploy to bring inexpensive labor to Singapore? What if he was the worst sort of scoundrel, someone who would take advantage of a woman when she was at her most vulnerable?

No, she couldn’t let herself think that. She certainly couldn’t allow Amanda’s thoughts to drift in that direction.

“We will get by,” she said firmly. “My new position includes room and board. We will share the room and make do on my earnings.”

“But you wanted to save enough to go to California.”

Pearl shoved aside that dream. Friends were more important. She had been abandoned by her parents. She would not abandon her friend.

She squeezed Amanda’s hand. “That can wait until we sort this all out.”

“I will find a job,” Amanda declared. “I can be a ladies’ maid.”

Pearl doubted there were many frontier ladies needing that sort of maid, but she didn’t point it out. “You do keep a tidy house and sew beautifully.”

“I love to sew, but do you think anyone will need a seamstress?”

“We won’t speculate on what people do or don’t need. We’ll trust that things will turn out for the best.”

“All things will work together for good for those who love the Lord,” Amanda said, paraphrasing scripture. “We must rely on that.”

“Yes, we must.” Pearl drew in a deep breath. Perhaps her friend was stronger than she appeared. “I’m tired and tomorrow will be busy. Shall we go below to find a spot to sleep?” Third class granted them passage but not sleeping quarters or a meal.

“Let’s not. It’s so noisy with everyone squeezed in there. I’d rather stand here and look at the stars.”

Pearl had to agree. “We will search for some chairs, then, or a spot on the upper deck, and lift our gaze to the skies. You’ll see. In the morning, everything will seem better.”

Especially after she cornered Mr. Decker.

* * *

Morning dawned with scarcely a breeze. The cloudless sky stretched overhead like a blank canvas. This day would usher in a new life for Pearl as a schoolteacher. The prospect excited her even while she kept watch for the man who had crushed her dear friend’s hopes.

Pearl stood at the railing with Amanda, their carpetbags at their feet, as the ship glided toward the mouth of a river guarded by a small lighthouse. Shimmering dunes rose on either side, dotted by clumps of green. Grass or shrubs, she guessed. Any trees were hidden from view behind the sand hills. In both directions the shoreline stretched unbroken except for a small, smoke-belching enterprise a distance to the north. If not for the lighthouse, she would think they were headed into the wilderness.

“How pretty.” Amanda sighed. “I wonder where the town is.”

Pearl wondered that, too. The marriage advertisement had promised a booming town. The employment posting had proclaimed a “bright future in the next Chicago.” She saw no sign of habitation, least of all a thriving city.

“It must be upriver.” At least Pearl hoped it was. She could manage the wilderness, but Amanda deserved a more genteel life. Despite Amanda’s labors in the Chatsworth household, she was ill-equipped for backbreaking drudgery. The Chatsworths kept several servants, including a housekeeper and cook. Rather than being taken in as a daughter, Amanda had worked, but she had never taken on the care of an entire family. Pearl gripped the rail, for the first time doubting her decision to convince Amanda to join her.

Her friend’s fragile hope had been dashed last night by yet another unfeeling man. First she’d suffered Hugh’s unconscionable jilting. Now Garrett Decker had dismissed her. Just thinking of the man made Pearl’s blood boil.

Her first objective of the day had been thwarted when Mr. Decker, despite claiming last night that he must rise early, did not appear on deck. Apparently that early morning business was conducted in the sanctuary of the gentlemen’s lounge, where none of the women he’d injured could reach him.

Not interested in marrying? He had some nerve sending out an advertisement and then withdrawing it once he’d met the prospective brides. Fiona might be a little too forward and Louise Smythe a little too reticent, but Amanda shone like the rising sun. He had seemed to enjoy her companionship last night. Then why snuff out her hopes so cruelly?

She tapped her fingers on the railing. If he could not explain himself, she had a mind to give him a thorough tongue-lashing. Providing she could find him. The wily fox had ducked into his den. He might be able to hide aboard ship, but eventually he must leave. She would nab him ashore.

The ship entered the river, and Pearl spotted the first sign of life. A thin trail of smoke rose from a building on the left-hand shore. Farther upriver, another dark column lifted against the rising sun. The ship rounded a corner, and she heard the growl of engines and a piercing whine that made Amanda clap her hands over her ears.

“What is that?” Amanda asked.

Pearl shook her head. The tooth-shaking howl wasn’t familiar. As they rounded the next bend, the source became obvious. Rafts of logs floated near shore. Sawdust coated the ground. Big, open wood-frame buildings roared with the hum of engines and the scream of huge saws.

Amanda’s eyes rounded, and her hands stayed pressed to her ears.

The ship’s whistle blew, and the vessel glided toward the dock that lined the shore. Beyond the dock stood a scattering of weathered wood buildings tucked between sand dunes. Most were single-story cabins or houses. A few had two stories. One building was particularly large. None bore the markings of a schoolhouse. Boardwalks and streets crisscrossed between buildings, but she saw no carriages or buggies. A couple of wagons waited near the waterfront. Though workers crowded the sawmills and docks, not a single soul walked through town.

Pearl’s heart sank.

“Is this Singapore?” Amanda asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied a sweat-stained laborer standing nearby. “Stockton’s town.”

“Stockton?” Pearl asked, her thoughts immediately drifting toward another man. “I thought perhaps Mr. Decker was in charge.”

The man guffawed and slapped his thigh. “That’s a funny one, miss. No sirree, Stockton owns the mills and the store and pert near everythin’ else in town. Decker works for him. Runs the store.”

Oh, dear. In spite of Mr. Decker’s fine clothes and silver tongue, he was not important at all. Moreover, Singapore was no bustling metropolis. “Then it’s a company town.”

The man grinned, revealing a few missing teeth. “Wildest town on the coast.”

Amanda paled. Pearl gripped her arm, afraid her friend would faint. Surely the man was mistaken.

“Do you live here, sir?”

“Board in one of the cabins.” The man gestured in the general direction of town. “Been workin’ here ’most two years now. This was the first chance ta head back home ta see the folks. Heard the mill’s running full steam again.” He rubbed his hands together. “Hopin’ ta make enough ta git me a bride.”

Oh, dear. She hoped the man didn’t see them as prospects. Though a hard-working man was a blessing, both she and Amanda had hoped for someone a bit more sophisticated. Nevertheless, she offered a faint smile, all the while considering what they would face.

“Where is the boardinghouse?”

He waved at one of the two-story buildings set back from the waterfront. “And that there big building is the Astor House.”

“Astor House?” Amanda exclaimed. “Like the hotel in New York?”

“The very same.”

Except it looked nothing like the famed hotel. Clearly the citizens of Singapore thought a great deal more of their town than a stranger could see at first glance. Pearl wondered about the boardinghouse. She had envisioned a pleasant atmosphere with tea served at four o’clock in a formal parlor, not a place filled with rougher sorts in a town with a bad reputation.

“There must be families,” Pearl said, “since there’s a school.”

He shrugged. “A few between here’n the tannery ’n Saugatuck.”

“Saugatuck?” That place hadn’t been mentioned in the employment posting.

“Upriver a bit.”

Pearl struggled to keep her composure. None of this was turning out as expected.

A snort of disgust from behind echoed her thoughts. “This isn’t a boomtown,” said Fiona O’Keefe.

Beside the redhead stood the diminutive Louise Smythe, who looked as pale and frightened as Amanda.

“Maybe looks are deceiving,” Pearl said with more hope than certainty. She had wanted a frontier experience, but this wasn’t at all like the stories she’d read. She had imagined tidy cabins with whitewashed fences. Any Indians would be friendly and helpful. After all, the advertisement had boasted of a civilized and prosperous town.

The crew threw out thick lines and men on the docks wrapped them around large pilings. A gangway was extended and the passengers began moving toward it. Pearl picked up her bag and shuffled forward with Amanda and the other ladies. Below, the first passengers streamed out of the ship. All were men, mostly laborers. One older couple disembarked, but not one other woman. From what she could see, the four of them were the only single women leaving the ship at Singapore. The rest must be going on. That meant they were the only ladies whose hopes of marriage had been dashed by Mr. Decker.

There that fox was! She leaned over the rail to be certain. Sure enough, there he stood on the gangway as tall and proud as the day they’d met, gesturing this way and that while conversing with Mr. Holmes.

The two men stepped ashore, and then Mr. Holmes stopped to talk to a porter. Mr. Decker, on the other hand, roamed down the dock. Pearl followed his movements, determined to find the man once she’d disembarked. He strode the dock, chatting with the men who’d helped tie the ship to the moorings. Judging by the laughter and smiles he received, he was well liked by every one of them.

Slowly she inched forward. Amanda gripped her arm. She’d seen Mr. Decker.

He waved at someone far down the dock, just this side of the large sawmill. That person must not have noticed him, because Mr. Decker cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Garrett! Over here.”

“Garrett?” all four women exclaimed at once.

That was the name on the advertisement. Could there be two Garretts in Singapore? Or was there more than one Mr. Decker?