Read Online The Lumberjack's Bride by Jean Kincaid - Free Book Online Page B

turned his head toward her but his eyes never focused. She kept her voice quiet and gentle, barely able to contain the happiness at seeing him so peaceful. “You’re feeling better, yes you are.” He turned his head to Maggie’s chest and closed his eyes. In seconds he was asleep, his tiny legs stretched out, no sign of pain in his tummy.
    Julianne went back to finish packing the laundry bag. “There has to be an easier way to do the laundry.” She muttered more to herself than Maggie.
    â€œThat bad, eh?”
    Jonathan whimpered. Julianne’s gaze darted to the baby. Maggie gently jiggled him in her arms.
    â€œWhen we came up with this idea, I hadn’t planned on having a baby to take care of, too.” She set the bag down by Maggie’s chair.
    The older woman stood to leave. She handed Jonathan over with a quick kiss to the forehead. “Well, you’ll get used to it. Women been taking care of their children and doing the laundry at the same time for many a moon.”
    â€œMaggie, is there an Indian tribe nearby?” Julianne adopted a nonchalant pose, needing to confide the afternoon’s scare, but uncertain if Maggie would mention it to Caleb or not. If she could ascertain whether she and Jonathan were safe, then she’d continue the wash as if nothing had happened. On the other hand…
    â€œWhy, sure there is. Didn’t you see the traders and the Indian men down at the wharf? I’d say they’re closer to you than the town, though, seeing as how they travel the canal right at the foot of yer hill.” She shuffled to the door, clumsily hefting the bag to her shoulder. “Why’d you ask? Did you see something?”
    â€œNo,” Julianne noticed that the lie slipped out much easier than the first lie she had told. “I just noticed some marking at the foot of the hill where I wash clothes, and they looked like Indian. I wondered if I should be afraid.”
    â€œâ€™Bout the only time I’ve seen the Injuns in these parts get stirred up was when some no-count white man was a doing the stirring.”
    Julianne lifted the bar and Maggie swung the wooden door open.
    â€œNo reason to fret on their account. There’s no danger from the redskin people. It’s those good-fer-nothings at the sawmill you gotta worry about.” Maggie’s features turned to stone as she picked up the bag and left before Julianne could reply.
    â€œNow, what do you suppose got into her craw?” she asked the sleeping baby as she shut the door and dropped the bar into place.
    Julianne spent the rest of the afternoon straightening the cabin and cooking dinner. She took a piece of fatback and placed it in the pot of beans boiling on the woodstove. When the meal was nearly ready, she slid a pan of yeast bread into the oven, and soon the smell of fresh-baked bread filled the air.
    As she worked, she pondered Caleb’s words from the day before. He’d said the house was hers and he’d given her Jonathan. She examined her feelings and realized for the first time in her life, she felt a bottomless peace and satisfaction. The scare this afternoon had shown her that she had a lot to be thankful for. She had a home and a husband—sort of—and she had a son. A sense of strength came to her, and Julianne determined to turn over a new leaf. To do things right. Was this what people meant when they said they had gotten saved? Or made a decision? She decided right then to be a better person. One that Caleb could depend on and be proud of.
    She wiped her hands on her apron and went to the window for what seemed like the hundredth time. The sun had already set, and gray streaks of night mingled with the last light of day. Worry began to gnaw at her newfound confidence.
    Where was Caleb?
    He’d said he would try to get home early and take her to the river to do laundry. Not that she still needed to do it, but he didn’t know