The next morning, she rose early, determined not to be the last downstairs. She dressed in her best gown, a pale pink silk that boasted an overskirt, cuffs, and a long bodice edged in a wide, fluted ruffle. She hadn’t asked about an iron to press the fabric, so it was fairly rumpled from her valise. As it was, she’d only had room to bring two dresses with her besides the one she had been wearing.
Someone rapped on the door, and she opened it to find Joanna waiting. She too must be wearing her best, for she was gowned in a spring green lustring with a nipped waist and embroidered vines all along the hem. Hair hanging in wild disarray about her face, Jeremy’s sister held up a silver-backed brush.
“Trade?” she suggested. “You help me with my hair, I’ll help you with yours.”
“Done,” Caroline agreed, holding the door open to let her in.
Joanna glanced around, then perched at the end of one of the beds. “Of course—no dressing table for my brothers. But they don’t feel the need to look their best.”
Caroline pulled her brush carefully through the curly reddish-brown tresses. “Does everyone expect us to look our best?”
“Ma will,” she predicted. “She always says we should wear our best clothes to church, though I’m pretty sure God doesn’t care how we look so long as we draw near.” She smiled. “My hair has a mind of its own, but pull it up and back as best you can and let the curls fall as they may. I brought pins.” She began pulling them from the pocket of her gown.
Caroline set to work, marveling at what she’d said. Church back home had been as much about being seen as listening to the sermon. Her father had always seemed embarrassed when they sat in their usual pew below the middle of the church, as if that somehow reflected on their place in life. How wonderful that she didn’t have to be the cleverest, loveliest, or wealthiest to be loved by God!
She finished with Joanna’s hair and took her turn on the bed.
“How would you like it?” Joanna asked, running the brush briskly through Caroline’s hair.
She made a face. “I don’t know.”
“Not to worry,” Joanna assured her. “I’ve been studying fashion plates. My new sister-in-law Alice brought some with her last time she visited. She has a friend named Beth who dotes on Godey’s.”
She was almost glad the only mirror in the room was small and located some distance from them, so that she didn’t have a chance to see what Joanna was doing. Jeremy’s sister was putting in the last pin when Jane poked her head into the room.
“Ma says downstairs by a quarter past.”
“Almost done!” Joanna promised. She stepped back and nodded toward the mirror. “See what you think.”
Caroline scrambled for the mirror. Joanna had pulled her hair up and back too, so that it cascaded down behind her in dark waves. What was left framed her face and made her eyes look huge. She touched her temple. “I love it! Thank you!”
Turning, she hugged the girl close.
Joanna hugged her back, then stepped away, silvery gray eyes twinkling. “Let’s see how Jeremy likes it.”
***
Jeremy couldn’t stop staring as Caroline sat beside him for worship services. From the day she’d walked into the parlor, he’d thought her pretty. But with her hair fixed to highlight those big brown eyes of hers and in a fancier dress that fit her properly in all the right places?
Well, she was stunning!
He was glad he’d offered to sit on the barn benches under the window during the service with Joshua and Jason. Covered with some of his mother’s quilts, the boards were comfortable enough, but most of their neighbors had opted for the chairs or sofa, which meant they were sitting in front of him and Caroline. The bachelors had to turn completely around, and risk their neighbor’s wrath in the process, to eye her.
He tucked her arm in his nonetheless.
Mr. Dalrymple stood at the front, Bible open on the side table, as he led them in worship. He was square-jawed and solid-framed, and he had a habit of nodding to emphasize a point. His brown hair didn’t so much as bob in the process, slicked back as it was with pomade. Jeremy had never tried the stuff. Jack had experimented with it at one point and warned them all away.
“Most of us have had a brush with death,” the minister said now. “Perhaps a loved one snatched away too soon, a friend lost.”
He hadn’t, and that was a blessing. Yet Caroline had lost her mother. He glanced her way, but she was listening, gaze fastened on the preacher, as if she was memorizing each word for consideration later.
“We know the pain and sorrow of loss,” Mr. Dalrymple continued. “Imagine if there was a physician in the area, a man known for healing the sick, sometimes miraculously. And imagine you’d sent for him, but he never came. Would you blame him for the death of your beloved? Would you shout at him the next time you saw him, berate him for his absence?”
He nodded around.
Caroline nodded as well. Jeremy tried to imagine the scene taking place in his family. It wasn’t hard, although shouting and berating were more Jack’s style than his. In fact, since he’d turned sixteen, he’d looked on it as his role to keep Jack from getting too serious, especially about little things. His contribution to keeping the peace.
Huh. Maybe he was more like Pa and Jesse than he’d thought.
“Now Mary and Martha, the sisters of Jesus’s friend Lazarus, had hoped for a miracle too,” Mr. Dalrymple said. “Our Lord could have saved their brother. But when Lazarus died, they lost that hope. Death was final. The last word.” He leaned forward as if to tell them a secret. “Isn’t it funny how we tell ourselves stories all our lives, and they turn out not to be true?”
Jeremy frowned as the minister went on to relate how Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead. Much as Jeremy liked to joke and tease, he couldn’t find the humor in someone spending their entire lives believing a lie.
Something nudged him, and he glanced at Caroline, but she hadn’t moved from her rapt contemplation of the minister. Jason had leaned back and closed his eyes, for all Ma would have swatted him if she’d been in arm’s reach. Joshua frowned at Jeremy as if wondering why his brother was regarding him.
Jeremy shook his head and faced front again. He refused to think that nudge had come from his conscience. He hadn’t believed any lies after Deborah had shown her true colors. He knew who he was now, what he wanted. That was what mattered.
Just help me through this courtship, Lord. That’s all I ask.
***
Caroline drew in a breath as the minister said the benediction. Such a nice service. The smaller number of people and the parlor setting made it feel more intimate. Mr. Dalrymple had a way of speaking, without the fancy phrasing their minister in Cincinnati had insisted upon, that brought the stories in the Bible more vividly to life.
Sitting next to Jeremy made the whole service even better. She’d caught him nodding along with her, as if he agreed to the same points she did. And he’d kept an eye on his younger brothers too.
Of course, she was beginning to realize, everything was richer when Jeremy was beside her.
“A few announcements,” Mr. Dalrymple said as everyone settled back in their seats. “Mrs. Larsen is expecting her first child, and Mrs. Willets has kindly offered to help prepare some clothing and sundry. Apply to her if you’re handy with a needle.”
He hadn’t said to apply to her if you are female. She could count the number of women outside the family and her in the room on one hand. And bachelors probably knew how to at least sew on a button.
Ned hadn’t. He’d left all such things to her. Her throat tightened. Was he worshipping somewhere today? Was he safe? Was he even alive?
She shook herself before tears could fall and focused on the minister again.
“Just as importantly,” he said, “Mr. Henshaw has decided to move to greener pastures and has generously offered to sell his fine house and acreage on the bluff above Puget City to us at a pittance of the price so we can build a church, provided we come up with the money by June.”
Murmurs echoed, along with a smattering of applause.
Mr. Dalrymple held up his hands. “Unfortunately, there’s still the matter of the pittance. We’ll be taking up a collection today and every week. I’d appreciate it if you spoke to your employers and any others you think might be willing to donate.”
He nodded to a boy in the first row, who rose and started passing around a hat.
“Sure would be nice to have a church,” Joshua said from beyond Jeremy. Both his youngest brothers were in brown suits, their hair neatly combed, even Joshua’s cowlick.
Jason leaned back as far as the window behind them would allow. “Nothing wrong with worshipping in a parlor.”
“You only say that because you’re too poor to contribute,” Joshua jibed.
Jason stiffened. “So are you.”
“Says who?” The youth pulled a coin from his trouser pocket. “I still have two bits from my birthday.”
The boy with the hat had reached the back and held it out hopefully. Joshua dropped in his gift. The boy looked to Caroline.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “Perhaps next time.”
“Consider this a donation from us both,” Jeremy said, adding a gold piece to the pile.
The boy smiled, then looked to Jason, who waved him away.
“Much obliged,” he said before returning the hat to the minister.
The other members of the congregation were rising again and exchanging greetings. Jeremy rose as well, offering Caroline his arm.
“You’ve been spotted,” he warned as several men headed their way.
Once more he sounded more serious than she would have expected.
“Should I defend myself or flee?” Caroline teased, hand on his arm.
He put his hand over hers. “I’ll defend. You flee.” He nodded to the open parlor door beyond Jason and released her.
But it was too late. A man who looked nearly her father’s age stuck out his hand, preventing her from moving. He didn’t wait for Jeremy to introduce him either.
“I’m Jim Ballus,” he said, smoothing back what was left of his hair with his free hand.
A younger man with bright blond hair blocked her on the other side. “And I’m Brett Hartley. I run the Lakeside Ranch down the road a piece.”
“Your father runs it,” Jason seemed to feel compelled to put in. “You help.”
Hartley colored. “Pa leaves most of the work to me these days. Unlike your pa, he doesn’t have a pack of pups running around with nothing better to do than carp.”
Jason surged to his feet.
Jeremy stepped neatly in front of him as if to prevent a confrontation. “This is Miss Cadhill. She was just leaving.” He tipped his head toward Jason and Joshua, but his brothers showed no inclination to take the hint and help her out.
“What brings you to this fair country, Miss Cadhill?” Mr. Ballus asked.
Caroline looked to Jeremy. Would he want her to claim an engagement when they hadn’t settled the matter between them? Rumors like that could force him to the altar, if for no other reason than to save his reputation and hers. But he was watching the men with narrowed eyes.
“I corresponded with Mr. Willets here,” she told them. “And his description of Washington Territory made me want to see it for myself.”
“Never knew you were such a gifted writer, Willets,” Mr. Ballus said.
“Any man can be a poet about a subject he loves,” Jeremy replied. His look came back to her, once more so admiring that she couldn’t meet it for more than a moment.
That’s when she noticed three more men crowding behind the others, faces eager. Mr. Hartley stepped closer, as if determined to prove that he’d staked his claim first.
Jeremy put a hand on her elbow. “It was good to see you, gents. Excuse us.”
He ushered her out of the room to a chorus of protests.
“Won’t they think you unneighborly?” she asked as he whipped open the front door and nearly pushed her through.
“Very likely,” he said. “But I’m taking no chances where you’re concerned.”
Caroline glanced back. Three faces were pressed to the window, watching them: Mr. Ballus, Mr. Hartley, and a man she didn’t recognize.
“Why are they so intent?” she asked, picking her way down the steps instead. Several wagons stood waiting, their horses having been let into various pastures to graze.
“You’re the prettiest girl to show up in these parts in months, maybe years,” Jeremy answered. “You can’t blame them for trying.”
She jerked to a stop, letting her skirts fall. “You mean they wanted to court me?”
“Court you, marry you, take you home,” he answered. “Good thing you already agreed to my courtship, or you’d be under siege.”
He seemed determined to spirit her away nonetheless. Caroline shook her head as they started around the side of the house. “But Jane, Jenny, and Joanna are old enough to marry. They’re all prettier than me.”
He grinned at her. “I’m their brother, so it’s not for me to comment on their looks. But if you ask me, you’d have to travel a far piece to find someone prettier than you.”
That couldn’t be right. Back home, she could throw a rock and hit a girl prettier than her. Prettier, better connected, wealthier.
“How many eligible brides live near Hawks Prairie?” she asked, picking up her skirts once more to detour around an industrious hen.
“If you mean unmarried, unbetrothed females over the age of eighteen and not currently employed in questionable activities, three,” he said. “And you’ve met them.”
“Your sisters?”
“That’s it. Puget City has a few more, but they tend to marry men who work there. Olympia is better favored, but it’s too far to travel very often. Makes it difficult for courting. You can see why I wrote away for a mail-order bride.”
“I certainly can!” She could also see something else, and it shook her. The girls back home would never have mentioned the matter, but she couldn’t live a lie.
“But that means you also have a choice,” she made herself say, each word like a blow to her heart. “If all those men are interested in courting me, you don’t have to. Not unless you really want to.”
***
She was right. If Jeremy had had any doubts, if he’d wanted to stop his mother’s interference, all he had to do was introduce her to one of the other bachelors. Deborah had had dozens of suitors. Some days, when he’d called on her, four other men were already in attendance.
Then he’d felt awed she’d allow him to be one of them and confident she’d choose him in the end. Now he realized she’d reveled in the power and held off making a decision as long as possible, looking for the perfect groom.
And he’d never stood a chance.
Caroline, on the other hand, seemed genuinely shocked and a little dismayed to find herself suddenly so popular. She was giving him an opportunity to back out, but she didn’t seem pleased by the thought. Her pretty face had paled, and she worried her lower lip.
Some might consider it only fair to give the other bachelors a chance at winning her heart. But not Hartley—he was barely out of the schoolroom. And Ballus had already worked two wives to their deaths. In fact, Jeremy couldn’t think of one bachelor of his acquaintance who was good enough to marry Caroline.
Even, he was beginning to think, him.
So, he winked at her as they came around the back of the house. “Oh, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Ma would never forgive me if I didn’t give courting my all.”
For some reason, that didn’t seem to satisfy her, for she kept watching him as if expecting him to wipe his hand across his forehead in relief that he no longer had to bear the burden of her. As if she were any kind of burden to begin with.
“Caroline!” Joy’s voice sailed across the yard, and they both turned to find her skipping toward them. That girl. She didn’t sit when she could hop, didn’t walk when she could skip. Of all of them, she was the most aptly named.
“Ma needs you,” she announced as she came to a stop in front of them. “She’s talking with Mrs. Abercromby about ways to raise money for the church, and she said you’d have ideas, on account of you helped get coats for the poor back home.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Caroline said, and she hurried off with his sister as if a wolf had come prowling out of the forest.
Or she feared Jeremy was about to propose.