Adam woke before dawn and put a pot of coffee on the cook-stove to brew. Duke and Faith were already stirring upstairs and would be down shortly.
He was used to fending for himself and was glad to pour them a cup of the aromatic steaming brew when they entered the kitchen. It gave them all a few extra minutes to enjoy a hot breakfast and enjoyable conversation over coffee before they began their day.
As the first rays of the sun slanted across the village, Adam walked out Liberty Street with his father, eagerly anticipating a day of heckling and hard work at the mill—and spending his wedding night at the White Inn with his wife.
“I can hardly keep pace with you, Adam.” With an unexpected chuckle, his father pulled Adam into one of his side-armed hugs that always made Adam feel special. “You seem awfully eager to get to the mill this morning.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said honestly. He loved the mill and working with his father and uncles and their boisterous crew. He couldn’t wait to settle into his new home with Rebecca, and spend his days at the mill and his evenings with Rebecca and their family.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that, son, but let’s see if you’re singing the same tune after breaking your back all day. You may want to head straight back to Crane Landing.”
Adam’s gut tightened. He knew he needed to share his decision with his father. “I’d planned to tell you and Faith tonight, but... Rebecca and I decided not to wait until next month to marry. We’ll exchange our vows this evening and will head to Crane Landing on the morning train. We’ll return as soon as our furniture arrives.”
Duke’s eyebrows lifted, but his long, sure stride never faltered. “Sounds like you did more than just take Scout for a walk last night.”
Adam nodded, unwilling to lie. “We just talked for a few minutes, sir. I know this upsets our plans at the mill, and I’m truly sorry for the delay this will cause, but Rebecca and I want to marry—tonight.”
His father’s slow whistle told Adam he was considering the ramifications of their decision. “I assume you haven’t had this conversation with Radford or Evelyn yet?”
“No, sir. Rebecca and I will talk with them this evening. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself today.”
Lifting his hands as if he wasn’t about to touch the subject, his father shook his head. “This is your business, Adam. I’ll be disappointed to have you leave again so soon, but I understand. Just know that Radford may not be as understanding. He’s not going to like having his daughter married so hastily, especially when the whole family has been planning a big celebration for the two of you. He’s going to feel that his daughter deserves better.”
For the first time, Adam questioned his decision. Rebecca had waited a long time for him and she did deserve more than a two-minute ceremony with only her parents and siblings present. The Grayson men had planned their workload at the mill around Adam’s return. For him to work one day and leave again for several weeks was inconsiderate, and not the kind of decision a partner would make. Of course Radford would be upset, and rightfully so. Still, the thought of not marrying Rebecca tonight made Adam sick to his stomach.
“Before you commit to anything, why don’t you give this some thought today,” his father suggested as they approached the mill. “Maybe you and Rebecca should talk this over again before committing.”
It’s all Adam would be able to think about, but he gave his father a nod to acknowledge that he’d heard his words and would heed his wise council. He would talk with Rebecca first.
The site of the sprawling sawmill had always filled Adam with a sense of awe, and that hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been coming back to this place. Stacks of timber and cut lumber, high piles of sawdust, and the powerful Percherons moving drags of timber across the yard drew his thoughts to the work at hand. Men were already feeding slab wood into the massive boiler that powered the saw inside the mill building. In minutes he would hear the scream of the whirring saw blade and the rhythmic sound of the carriage table gigging back and forth as it shuttled the timber through the cutting process. He was part of this place, of this family, and both were as interwoven with his future as Rebecca was.
“It’s about time you got here,” Boyd said, slinging an arm around Adam’s neck and mock wrestling him. “We need some young blood to liven things up.”
Adam laughed and straightened his work shirt, twisting away from Boyd’s roughhousing. He could always count on his uncle Boyd to shake him out of his worries. “You keep things lively enough on your own, Uncle Boyd. You just want to make use of my strong back to do the heavy lifting.”
Duke nudged Boyd’s shoulder with a closed fist. “Told you he was smarter than you.”
“That wouldn’t take much,” Radford said, joining their small gathering. Radford clasped Adam’s hand in a firm handshake. “Welcome home, son. I’m sure glad to have you back at the mill.”
For Adam the moment was dreamlike. At thirteen, he could have never imagined his life like this, being surrounded by men of deep integrity and honor—and a wonderful sense of humor—who had become his family, and his friends, and now his partners.
His uncle Kyle was working their other mill today, once owned by his wife’s father, Tom Drake. Although Kyle split his time between the two mills, he had spent many hours teaching Adam the sawmill business, and Adam was looking forward to working with him again.
“Come on, fellas, we’re falling behind, and we have a big order of quartersawn oak to fill this week,” Radford said. He gestured to a pile of timber a good distance across the mill yard. “I’ll be feeding the saw with that pile today, so if any of you work in that area of the yard, keep your head up and your eyes open.”
“Yes, sir,” Adam said, acknowledging Radford’s warning.
Duke gave a half-nod as he walked away, his attention already focused on two men stacking lumber across the yard.
“Wait a few minutes and I’ll give you a hand,” Boyd said.
“We don’t have time to wait. The saw is hungry and we’re two days behind on this order. I’ll be working fast over there, so give me plenty of warning when you head my way.”
“You should wait, Radford. If that pile shifts in your direction, you’re going to need some warning to get the team and your stubborn self out of the way.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, then grinned and patted Boyd’s shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re worried about me.”
Boyd’s lips pursed and his eye-roll made Adam laugh. “It wasn’t you I was worried about. Belle and Buck are my favorite horses.” Without so much as a by-your-leave, Boyd walked away.
It was just another day at the mill, another opportunity to heckle each other, and Adam loved being smack in the middle of it all.
“Why don’t you join us for supper this evening,” Radford said. “I’m sure Rebecca would like that. And I’m eager to hear more about your apprenticeship at Crane and Grayson.”
“Thank you, sir. I have a lot to share with you.”
“All right then. See you tonight. Now get to work,” Radford ordered, and then he headed off to the pile of timber, wearing a grin on his face.
Adam smiled, enjoying the playful taunt from a man he deeply admired. He had never looked at Radford as an uncle because he’d always thought of him as Rebecca’s father—a man who would someday become his father-in-law. That day would be soon, perhaps today. To even consider having a man like Radford Grayson as his father-in-law was an honor Adam couldn’t have imagined a few years ago.
How could he compromise all of this by being hasty? He had made a commitment to these men. He owed Rebecca more than hurried nuptials that they would remember the rest of their lives.
But the thought of being without her another day tortured him.
He gazed around, lost in thought, as the mill came to life. Horses snorted and harnesses jangled, wagons rattled and the boiler in the mill building gasped and spit. Shouts from the crew filled the yard as they welcomed Adam home and barked orders to each other. After years away, standing in the middle of the organized chaos with his Grayson family was one of the best moments of Adam’s life.
Now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave.
But he couldn’t ask his bride to spend the first month of their marriage sitting on flour barrels at a plank table or sleeping on a pallet on the floor. She deserved a comfortable home and a holiday away from her work—and they deserved a few weeks together after years of infrequent and too-short visits. He would explain this to Rebecca this evening, and they could decide together what to do.
For now, he would immerse himself elbow-deep in his work and enjoy being at the mill, however brief it might be.
Sunlight flooded the mill, raising the temperature to a sweaty seventy-six degrees before mid-day. Adam had taken off his long-sleeved shirt and was debarking a thick hickory timber when he noticed a commotion from the corner of his eye.
Managing a team of Percherons, Radford used chains and grappling hooks to extract a hewn oak log from a pile of timber. As it often did, the pile shifted, causing logs to pivot and roll free, which was one of the biggest dangers at the mill—and the reason Radford had warned them to use caution when in that area. Just one rolling timber could crush a man or cause serious destruction to anything in its path. Every man present knew to keep one eye on the timber piles.
But it wasn’t a man standing in harm’s way—it was Rebecca. She was riding her sleek black mare past the shifting log pile, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, her pace leisurely as she searched the mill.
Adam had planned to meet her at the mill entrance where it wasn’t so dangerous. It was where they met all of their visitors and customers.
But Rebecca was here in the middle of their lumber yard on a busy day, while every mill hand was engaged with saws, hand axes, horses and wagons, grappling hooks and any number of tools and jobs that were dangerous—and she was riding in completely distracted because she was looking for him.
He knew when she spotted him because her face lit up.
The pile behind her shifted like an uncoiling viper.
Adam’s breath locked in his throat. He raised his arm, flagged her wildly, gesturing for her to move away, to go back to the entrance gate and wait for him.
In her vibrant, naturally reckless way, she stood up in the stirrups and gave him a wide smile and a jaunty wave.
His warning yell was lost in the scream of the saw blade in the mill house and the commands and shouts from the men in the yard.
He ran toward her on leaden legs, watching with sickening dread as a log kicked out from the pile behind her, pivoted ninety degrees and struck the hindquarters of her mare.
The unexpected assault made Star lunge forward and bolt into a panicked run.
The violent lurch unseated Rebecca and tumbled her backward. She instinctively splayed her arms wide and then down, as if to catch her body from falling, but there was only air and an angry tangle of wood beneath her. Rebecca’s head hit the pile first—hard—and then there came no more flailing of her limbs, but a loosening of her body, as if she’d become a ragdoll dropped to the dust.
Icy fear streamed through Adam as he raced toward her inert body, his only thought to pull her off the shifting timbers.
He and Boyd reached her at the same moment, the two of them sweeping her off the timber pile. Adam lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the rolling, bouncing logs.
Boyd released a long, shrill whistle that raised the hair on Adam’s arms and caught the attention of every man in the yard. A collective shout filled the mill, but not a word left Adam’s throat as he watched the timber pile collapse. Logs bounced and rolled across the sawdust and bark-littered ground as he and Boyd moved Rebecca farther away.
A bell clanged loudly, echoing through the yard, warning the mill crew of an accident, of danger, to stop what they were doing. Within seconds the mill was nearly silent. Only the saw in the mill building made one final screaming pass before it, too, was silenced. Time seemed fluid and slow as Adam stood with Rebecca draped over his arms, her blood soaking the left shoulder and sleeve of his work shirt.
Adam watched his father leap a pile of slab wood and land beside them. Eyes intense and focused, assessing the situation like the lawman he used to be, Duke waved for Cyrus Darling, who was manning the lumber wagon, to bring it around quickly.
As Cyrus turned the wagon in their direction, Radford raced into their midst, his eyes wide as if expecting an attack from an unseen enemy. “What happened?” he asked. As his gaze fell on Rebecca draped across Adam’s trembling arms, he seemed to shrink a foot. The color drained from his face as if leached from the earth beneath his leather boots. “Dear God, no,” he whispered, reaching for his daughter, his voice quaking. He cupped her beautiful face and called her name.
Rebecca didn’t respond.
“What happened?” Radford asked, his dumbstruck expression telling Adam that he didn’t realize he’d caused his daughter’s accident.
“She was unseated and fell off her horse,” Adam said, knowing he needed to protect Radford from the truth.
Boyd raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t elaborate as to why she’d been unseated.
Radford shifted his horror-filled gaze from his blood-covered fingers to Adam’s face. “What is she doing here?”
Sick with fear, Adam could barely get the words out. “She was bringing our lunch.”
Suddenly, time seemed to explode and everything happened at once. Rebecca’s mare raced by, eyes wild as Boyd snagged one of the trailing reins to its bridle.
“Whoa, girl, easy now,” Boyd said, as he ran alongside the horse, gently slowing the frightened creature and bringing her to a prancing stop. “I’ll find Doc Milton and bring him to the house.” With that, he launched himself onto the mare’s back and raced out of the mill.
Cyrus halted the wagon beside them.
Adam didn’t wait for assistance. With Rebecca in his arms, he planted his right foot on a log that was waiting to be debarked, anchored his left foot on a metal sideboard rail, and heaved himself onto the seat.
As Cyrus clucked to the thick-bodied Percherons, Radford and Duke leapt onto the wagon bed and leaned over the back of the crude wooden seat. They checked Rebecca’s head wound, which was bleeding at a frightening rate.
Radford retrieved a clean handkerchief from his shirt pocket and cupped it behind his daughter’s head. When her blood ran in rivulets over his fingers and wrist, he increased the pressure on her wound and pleaded with her to open her eyes.
Adam said nothing because he knew Rebecca was unable to respond. He could feel it in the weight of her body. He’d known she was injured the instant the back of her head slammed against the oak log that she had landed upon. He said nothing because he couldn’t bear to tell anyone what he already knew—Rebecca’s injury was life-threatening.
Radford shook his head, his eyes filled with fear and disbelief. “Adam, why would you have her come to the mill in the middle of our day? You can’t have forgotten how dangerous it is in the yard?”
He hadn’t forgotten, and he hadn’t asked her to come to the mill, but he had been selfish and short sighted in accepting her offer to bring him lunch. He said nothing, though, knowing his words and explanation would make no difference.
He had never imagined Rebecca in his arms like this, so injured, so lifeless, and that it would be because of him.