Love's Story (3 page)

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean you haven't chosen a camp yet?”

Her eyes lit. “That, Jonah, is our objective.”

“But Asa said that you—”

“What Asa doesn't know won't hurt him, will it?” She patted his hand. “Don't worry so. We'll see what's available and decide tonight over supper.”

Jonah stood. “Perhaps I was too hasty to jump on this assignment….” His voice trailed off, but Meredith didn't wait around to hear his next complaint.

The land office wasn't far. When their business was concluded, she took Jonah's arm and chatted all the way back to the hotel. Inside the lobby, she patted her portfolio.

“I'm going to my room to look over this information. Shall we meet at dinner to discuss our plans?”

“I suppose so,” Jonah said.

“Look, Jonah. This assignment is not a contest between us. We need to work as a team. Sometimes it feels as if you have a problem with me.”

“A man likes to take the lead once in a while.”

“Whenever you feel the urge to do so, go right ahead.”

He stroked the downward tips of his mustache. “We'll see, Storm.”

Still, she hesitated to leave. “There's one other thing.”

“What's that?”

“Once we get to the logging camp, I'd rather you didn't call me that name in front of other people.”

“It's your name.”

“I know, but I have a feeling this isn't going to be an easy assignment, and I don't want to give a wrong impression to any of those loggers. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

At dinner, they agreed that Bucker's Stand would be the most convenient logging camp to investigate. Its location was north of San Francisco in the redwood country. The closest town, called Buckman's Pride, was situated on the coast.

“The way I look at it,” Meredith said, “we have two choices. Either we can go by ship, or we can find us an overland guide.”

“Any ideas where we would find such a person?” Jonah asked.

“I've been thinking about that. Most loggers coming from the East pass through San Francisco. I'd wager that some of them pick up supplies while they're in the big city. We just have to figure out where they purchase them.”

Jonah's blue eyes sparkled. “That just might work.” He leaned close across the table. “If we could find such a place, we could hold off making our decision until we talked to a few of them, get their advice on the best method of travel.”

“Good idea.” Meredith beamed, then stifled a yawn. “Well, now that we have that settled, I think I'll go to my room. I need to finish up my Overland Limited story so we can get it posted tomorrow.”

“Go ahead. I'll just mingle down here a bit and see if I can glean any information about where your loggers buy their supplies.”

“Good idea.” She patted his hand. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Storm.”

The next morning Jonah greeted Meredith with news that he knew where the loggers purchased their supplies.

“Wonderful! Is the postal office on the way?”

“I believe so. We'll need to take the cable car.”

They ate breakfast at the hotel, walked to the post office to mail Meredith's story, then rode the cable car to a shop called the Outfitters. With Meredith's first step inside, the heel of her shoe caught in a gaping hole.

Jonah's hand shot out to steady her. “Watch your step.” He nodded at a nearby man. She followed Jonah's gaze to the man's boots. They had spikes in them. “Loggers' boots,” he whispered. “That's what's tearing up the floor. I guess we're in the right place.”

Meredith smelled the masculine scents of leather and tobacco. Her eyes roamed over the displays of tools, leather goods, clothing, bedrolls, rolls of canvas, coils of rope, liniments, and books. Along the wall lined with tools such as picks, shovels, axes, and handsaws, she caught a snatch of conversation between two men. She heard them mention Bucker's Stand, and that was all she needed.

She walked up behind them. “Excuse me, sir.” The men did not turn around to acknowledge her. She glanced at Jonah. He hesitated, then cleared his throat. The men quit talking.

“Pardon me, may I have a word with you, sir?” Meredith asked.

The closest man turned to face her, while the other tipped his hat at Jonah and went back to his shopping. The well-cut tan suede vest enhanced the man's masculine form. She looked up expectantly, and to her ill fate, into familiar brown eyes. The melancholy man from the train. She hadn't realized he was so handsome.

He smiled and stared at her for an uncomfortably long period of time before asking, “Did you want something?”

Her face heated. “Yes. In passing, I overheard you mention Bucker's Stand. May I ask, are you headed there?”

The man removed his hat and smirked. “I am.”

“The reason I ask is, my friend and I are looking for someone to guide us, accompany us, to Buckman's Pride.”

“I'm sorry, I can't be of help.” He replaced his hat and turned to go.

“Wait.” She grabbed his sleeve. “We can pay.” He stopped, looked at her, then at his arm. Instantly, she released him. “I… I'm sorry.”

“So am I.” Then he was gone.

Jonah had observed the entire scene. “I thought we were going to find out what the overland trip was like before we offered to pay someone to guide us.”

She leaned against a shelf filled with boxes of nails. “We were. I don't know what's gotten into me. I've never acted so unprofessionally. It's that… that man. When I saw him, I couldn't think clearly. Why, he makes my blood boil!”

Jonah lifted a wooly eyebrow that matched his brown mustache in color. “Well, I hope we don't meet up with him again. He seems to bring out some mighty strange behavior in you. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were smitten with him.”

“What!” She jerked away from the wall, and her hand struck a shovel that clattered to the floor. “That is utterly ridiculous. You know me better than that.” A clerk appeared to pick up the shovel and straighten tools. She stepped away, then had to jerk her foot loose from where it had sunk deep into a groove in the wooden plank. “Let's just get back to work, shall we?”

By midafternoon, Meredith and Jonah had nearly concluded their business. They would travel by land, and they had secured a guide. They stayed in the Outfitters long enough to make several purchases. Meredith did not miss how Jonah's eyes widened when she examined the men's clothing, cut in a very small size.

“Get yourself some loggers' clothing, Jonah. We'll fit in better when we reach the camp.”

“I don't see anything here that appeals to my sense of…”

“Nonsense!” she interrupted, grabbing his sleeve. “Here.” She placed a set of trousers in his arms. “And you'll probably need this.” Another article slapped him across the shoulder.

“If you insist that I wear these duds, then move out of the way, Storm. I'll do my own choosing.”

“You don't need to get in a huff about it. I'll work on the rest of our list. It was so good of our guide to make it for us.”

Jonah pointed. “Better get some different shoes while you're at it.”

“You're absolutely correct,” she said, and noticed the glitter of surprise in his eyes.

After that, they each purchased a set of saddlebags, and Jonah bargained with the store owner to trade their travelling trunks for several leather bags. When all the arrangements for their trip were in order, Meredith and Jonah returned to their hotel to dine and retire early. They would leave in the morning.

M
eredith rose early and dressed in her newly purchased male attire. She hesitated outside the hotel lobby. The clothes she could get used to, but not the abominable hat. She owned a multitude, all colorful and elaborately embellished with feathers and bows and birds and whatever attracted her attention and her delight. But this one was plain brown and round like a soup bowl with a large brim, which she supposed was to shield her face from the sun. It also hid her long brown hair, secured beneath in a tidy knot. Her hand crept up to examine…

“Storm! You're up.”

Meredith jerked her hand down. “Don't do that!”

“Sorry,” Jonah said with a grin. “I didn't mean to frighten you.” He studied her. “Sensible clothes. Let's have breakfast.”

She felt relieved that her travelling companion awoke on the congenial side, yet she regretted his catching her in a vain moment.

Breakfast was hot and filling. Soon they were outside the hotel. Their guide, Silas Cooke, appeared right on time.

Meredith strode toward him. “Good morning, Mr. Cooke.”

Silas Cooke watched her with skepticism; his eyes flitted across Jonah, then returned to her with a new brightness. “Good morning to you, Miss Mears.” His blue gaze ran over her appraisingly, and his beard gave an odd twitch. “Didn't recognize you right off. See you're a sensible woman.”

Jonah chuckled. “I've heard her called a ‘new woman' repeatedly, but never ‘sensible.'”