Chapter Four
Meri’s shelter. Underneath her coat. And into her soul. Why had she trusted Patrick? Would he be true to his word and return? What if her father paid him to leave her here in exchange for his job? Or his life?
What if Father kills him?
And what would happen when the jacks arrived in the morning? Her here in her nightgown and coat. She folded over her womb, holding it close as if she could hold her babe already. Her choices, her mistakes, had gotten her here.
But you’re forgiven, remember?
She’d been working to memorize verses in case Father discovered Mama’s Bible and took it away. She didn’t want to lose so precious an heirloom, but if she had at least some of it memorized, she would always have God’s Word with her. That’s what Mama had said, even if Meri forgot for a while.
A shiver worked its way up her spine. As good as Patrick’s shelter was, the temperature was dropping too quickly for how she was dressed. If he didn’t return in the next few minutes, she needed to return to camp—if she could find her way—no matter the danger. There she could hide near the kitchen fire until Mrs. Nelson began breakfast.
She could also find out if Patrick was doing as he promised. Then she would know whether to trust him. And if her father had hurt him, she’d …
Another shiver shook her whole body.
Time to leave. She knocked over the branch guarding the door of her shelter and crawled into the night. An icy wind smacked her sore cheek. She was a lumberjack’s daughter. She could do this. But what if Patrick returned and found her missing? He’d be frantic.
She tossed snow into her shelter, creating a writing surface, and used her finger to scrawl the word camp. He’d know where to find her if he came looking.
Then she set the branch-door on its side against the opening and followed the path Patrick had made when he left. Each step dampened her hope. If only she would run into Patrick returning to her. Then she’d know whether he was like every other man in her life, or if there was something different about him. She’d almost rested her hand against his chest before he left. Her concern nearly overpowered her good sense. What did she really know about Patrick Martins? He was a lumberjack, here for the winter, then gone back to Crow’s Nest. He could have a wife or girlfriend for all she knew!
However, Mrs. Nelson and her husband got Patrick and his brother and friend a job here. They would have warned her about him, Mrs. Nelson especially. As the only two women in camp, they stuck together.
As the surety of that solidified, fear for Patrick replaced her fear of Patrick. She quickened her pace. Not seeing him on the road could only mean he’d run into her father. He’d already fired a gun at them once. What if he harmed Patrick because of her? All he’d done was be kind to her. Her condition was her fault. Hers and Leo’s, who could no longer atone for their mistake. Patrick didn’t deserve to take any blame.
A cramp in her stomach caused her to stumble. Please let everything be okay. She wanted this baby, no matter how it came to be. Yes, she would be ostracized, would struggle to find a job, would never marry, but she would be as good a mother as her own was to her.
The trees thinned, revealing the sleeping lumber camp. Small wisps of smoke rose from the stovepipes. No light spilled from the windows. Where was Patrick? What if he was asleep, warm in his bed, while she—no! She couldn’t believe the man who’d protected her from her father would do such a thing.
Then where was he?
Another cramp and she bent double until it passed. Tugging her coat closed around her, she crept into the shadow of the men’s bunkhouse. She couldn’t resist peeking into the window. The moon cast a beam onto the floor inside, but no bunks were visible.
She tightened her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She needed better clothes before she froze.
Staying along the outside of camp, she circled around to her father’s cabin. She pressed her back against the rough side and peeked around the corner. No one in sight. With quick steps, she reached the door. Slowly, she pulled it open and slipped into the darkness. Her father’s snoring came from his partition. Passed out again. Good.
She tiptoed across the floor, knowing which boards creaked, until she passed through the curtain partition into her own little area. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of—
An arm came around her middle, and a hand covered her mouth. Her eyes widened, and she tried to fight, but this man was too strong. A lumberjack because he smelled of the woods. Pine and sap and—
“Shh. It’s me, Patrick.” His hold on her waist loosened. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She turned, freeing her mouth from his hand, but not the arm he kept around her. For some reason, she was glad. It felt safe, not threatening. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned closer. “What are you doing here? I told you I was getting supplies, and I promised I’d return.”
She realized there was a blanket on the bed, piled with clothes, all her clothes. “You’re getting me my things?” She’d assumed he’d grab a blanket for her from his own bunkhouse. What man would get her a change of clothes, especially without being asked? All she’d wanted was her Bible.
“I think I have everything, but I’m sorry I can’t find your Bible. I looked everywhere I could without waking your father.”
She was speechless.
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll go over to the mess so you can change. Then we need to meet my brother. I’m already late.”
“Meet your brother?”
“He was gathering the rest of our supplies. We aren’t coming back here. If we can figure out a way to get to the train, we’re going to Crow’s Nest. My grandmother will take you in, and you’ll be safe. But if we stand here talking, we’re going to wake your father.”
She nodded, because what else could she do? This man had packed her belongings and planned to smuggle her to safety. Crow’s Nest, that place she heard about from Mrs. Nelson. Community, friends, family. All she longed for was there. Could Patrick really help her escape? Would her father let her go?
Patrick tied the corners of the blanket together, then took her hand. She stopped him, pointed to herself. She knew the most noiseless way. He acquiesced with a wink, and the wall around her heart crumbled.
They reached the door. Freedom. She glanced back, a silent goodbye. Patrick opened the door to usher her through.
“Looking for this?” Her father’s voice stopped her.
Patrick nudged her behind him. “Give her the Bible, sir, and you never have to see her again.”
The strike of a match and the lantern revealed her father, holding her most prized possession. “You dare take my daughter from me?”
“I’m doing no such thing, Mr. Hughes.” How did Patrick keep his voice so calm?
Meri’s whole body trembled. She leaned closer to Patrick, drawing on his strength. If she aimed to begin a new life, then she needed to make a clean break of it with her father. She couldn’t let Patrick fight her battle.
“You have a choice, sir,” Patrick continued. “To treat your daughter better or let her go.”
“How dare you!” Her father tossed the Bible to the ground and swung his fist at Patrick.
Meri squealed and ducked against the wall. Patrick blocked her father’s blow but didn’t return one.
“Let her go, Mr. Hughes.”
Her father slammed the lantern onto the edge of the table and threw himself at Patrick. The lantern teetered, then crashed against the wooden floor, the glass chimney shattering, the kerosene spilling. Fire shot along the fuel. Patrick grunted as he took a fist to the stomach. Meri stared at the fire as it spread. She had to put it out. She had to—
“Meri!”
Patrick’s shout unglued her feet. She tore the curtain from the ceiling around her bed and ran to the water bucket. Empty. Drat her father’s drunkenness. She spun away from it and beat at the flames as best she could. But they latched onto the fabric, climbing toward her hands.
A thump brought her head up. Patrick and her father rolled on the floor, closer to the flames. She dodged them, tossed the burning blanket into the snow, and screamed “fire!” Then she dashed back inside. Smoke hung heavy in the air as the flames spread. She pulled down the partition encircling her father’s bed. It smelled of alcohol and she tossed it aside. His bedding did as well.
“Meri, get out!” Patrick drove a shoulder into her father, his youth matched against her father’s size. If Patrick could hold on, survive her father’s brute force, he’d win this battle. But the fire ...
Her gaze landed on her mother’s Bible. She picked up her skirt and raced through the haze, snatching the book before the fire clammed it. Only now she was cornered. The fight blocking her exit, the fire closing in. She coughed into her coat sleeve and wrapped a protective arm around her belly. How could she get out now?
Shouts came from outside.
Her father landed a punch to Patrick’s jaw, dropping him to the ground. With a glare at Meri, he yanked open the door and shouted, “Quick! This kid tried to burn me alive in my sleep! Nearly killed my daughter too!”
What? “No! That’s not—”
Several lumberjacks pushed into the cabin.
Her father coughed. “She snuck home, and when he tried to kidnap her, he set the house on fire.”
“That’s not—” Her voice strangled as the smoke choked her..
“Take him to the mess and tie him up. His brother too.”
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. “Father, stop! He’s—” Another cramp doubled her over. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to her?
The lumberjacks attacked the flames, and someone led her out of the smoky interior. A blanket was draped over her shoulders as cold air hit her lungs. She coughed, and then another cramp caused her to cry out.
“Move aside, gentlemen. She’s coming with me.” Mrs. Nelson tucked her under her arm and led her away.
“Patrick.” She’d gotten him into this. His brother too.
“Those Martins boys will be just fine, don’t you worry. Let’s make sure you and the babe are okay. Keep your mind on that right now.”
Her baby. Tears stung her dry eyes. She was making a mess of everything. Her father always said she was no good. Looked like she was proving it. What hope did she have of being a mother? No man would ever marry her, not with a baby. And if she couldn’t keep a lumberjack like Patrick away from her father, how was she going to protect her child?
Another cramp.
What if she caused the baby to be born too early? What if she was the reason her baby didn’t survive? Mrs. Nelson had given her the basics about the months ahead of her when she’d first figured out Meri was pregnant, and this was too soon to have the baby. She had three more months at least.
“Is my baby going to be okay?” She coughed again.
“Deep breaths, dear.”
“But—”
“Meredith Hughes!” Her father’s voice boomed through the darkness. “Get over here and answer for what you’ve done.”
“Let the poor girl get dressed,” Mrs. Nelson shot back.
“Now!” Father snapped.
“No.” Mrs. Nelson raised her chin. “Tomorrow. The girl needs to recover from what she’s been through.”
“Please, Father.” She pressed her hand to her belly.
His gaze followed the motion. “As soon as the jacks leave in the morning, we meet in the mess hall.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mrs. Nelson said.
“And Meredith.” Father pointed at her. “If you’re not there, I’ll take it out on Martins. You understand?”
She nodded. Yes, she’d be there. Because there was no way Meri was going to let one more person fall victim to her mistakes. Least of all, her baby, or the man willing to risk everything to protect her.