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being practical. They had a ship to catch, after all.
She preceded him down the aisle, paused only long enough to pick up the carpetbag of her overnight things and slip on her cloak, then started with him and his brothers down the hill for the pier, where Puget Sound glistened gray.
Simon reached out his hand. Nora frowned at it a moment, then realized he was offering to carry her bag. Blinking in surprise, she gave it to him.
How nice to have someone else do some of the carrying.
He had stamina too. His long legs ate up the muddy ground. He moved with such purpose, such determination. Charles would like him. He always said there was nothing worse than an aimless fellow.
Nora shuddered, scurrying to keep up. No, no. She didn’t want Charles to like Simon. She wanted Charles to respect him, fear him and leave her alone. She was looking forward to the day when Simon and Charles locked horns. She was fairly certain who would win.
She wasn’t sure what ship Simon had found to take them on the journey, but she couldn’t help smiling at the long, lean lumber schooner that lay at anchor near Yesler’s pier. It wasn’t nearly as large as the Continental, which had carried her away from New York, but she would always have a special place in her heart for this ship. The Merry Maid had rescued her and some of the others in San Francisco and brought them the rest of the way to Seattle.
“You’re just in time,” the burly mate told Simon as they reached the ship. “Get aboard and stow your things.” He glanced toward Nora. Eyes widening, he tugged off his cap in respect. “Miss Underhill, an honor to be traveling with you again.”
“Good to see you, Mr. Chorizon,” she said. “I noticed the jib sail is holding up.”
He grinned at her. “Those stitches you took were just the thing, ma’am. The sailmaker in San Francisco claimed he couldn’t have done better. Captain Collings says you’re welcome to travel with us anytime.” He nodded to Simon. “No charge for you, seeing as you’re friends with Miss Underhill.”
“Mrs. Wallin,” John corrected him with a look to his brother.
Mr. Chorizon grabbed Simon’s hand and shook it. “Good for you, Mr. Wallin. She’s a fine lady. I wish you both happy.”
Simon inclined his head, but he retrieved his hand and reached for Nora’s to help her up the gangplank and onto the ship.
“What did he mean?” Levi asked as they settled themselves along the bulwark, where they’d be out of the crew’s way.
“The Merry Maid brought us up from San Francisco,” Nora explained. “They had a little trouble with that front sail there.” She nodded toward the triangular canvas at the front of the schooner. “I was able to patch it up.”
“She’s a sailmaker?” Levi demanded with an accusatory look to Simon as if annoyed he hadn’t been told his new sister-in-law had skills few men boasted.
“I’m a seamstress,” she told him.
“And she’s obviously a good one, if she could fix a sail,” Simon added with a look that made his brother move down the rail a little ways. With an apologetic nod, John went to join him.
“Thank you,” Nora murmured, leaning against the polished rail.
Simon frowned. “For what? It was only the truth. My mother sews quilts and made most of our clothes when we were younger. I know how hard she worked. She would never have attempted something as detailed as what you’re wearing, and I doubt it would have dawned on her to use her skills to fix a sail.”
Her cheeks were warming again, despite the chill winter breeze that blew across Puget Sound, tugging at the canvas above them. “Thank you nonetheless. I’m not used to people defending me.”
He put a hand over hers on the rail. “I’m your husband. It’s my duty to defend you. That was the bargain.”
The bargain. Of course. He was only doing his part. She should not read more into the matter.
The crew cast off a short time later, maneuvering the schooner out of Elliott Bay and sending her south along the shores of Puget Sound. She skimmed the choppy gray waters as gracefully as a gull, spray rising to dampen Nora’s cheeks. One hand holding her hat to her head, she breathed deep of the cool salty air, eyeing the clouds that crowded out any view of the mountains on either side of the water.
“The captain said we could wait in his cabin,” Simon offered, turning up his collar.
Nora waved to the vistas. “And miss all this? No, thank you. But if you want to go inside, please don’t mind me.”
He didn’t move.
Nora drew in another breath. She wasn’t sure why he stayed. Was he too marveling that his life had changed?
“Do you feel different?” she asked.
He frowned as if considering the idea. “No,” he said with a shake of his head that sent the breeze fingering through his light brown hair. “You?”
She wiggled a little, trying to sense any change in her bones, her muscles. “No. But I never thought to marry. Well, there was a young man from church who showed interest, a Mr. Winnower. He used to talk to me after services, and once he even walked me home. My brother, Charles, took him aside to discuss his intentions. He only ever looked at me from across the room after that. If I approached him, he’d dash out the door. I always wondered whether Charles might have told him I had some dread disease that would infect him.”
“I’m going to enjoy talking with your brother,” Simon said with such a dark tone that Nora could only smile.
“And perhaps my sister-in-law?” she suggested. “Meredith always claimed I was destined to die an old maid. If she could have picked a husband for me, I’m certain it would have been some elderly widower who needed comfort in his final hours and wasn’t overly particular in his bride. I’m having the most delightful time imagining the look on her face when I walk in on your arm.” She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up.
“Her as well,” Simon agreed.
Nora smiled. “Oh, and perhaps a few of the ladies in town? There has been a distressing rumor that I’m destined to be the last Mercer Belle to wed.”
He shifted away from her. “I’ll win your freedom from your family, Nora, as I promised. But don’t expect to parade me all over Seattle like one of your fancy gowns. I have work to do, and the sooner I get to it, the better.”
She almost acquiesced. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Yes, of course.” To bow her head contritely for impinging on his precious time. To crawl back into her corner and lick her wounds.
Not again. Not with him. Not ever.
She raised her head and met his gaze. “I understand you have work ahead of you, Mr. Wallin. But know one thing—I may owe my brother a debt for taking me in after my parents died, but you and I have a bargain. You are getting one hundred and sixty acres from our marriage. I am getting a husband who helps and supports me. If you cannot abide by that agreement, then I will take the first ship back to Seattle, and you can argue with the registrar over whether you have earned those acres.”
Who was this woman he’d married?
Nora had quaked at stern words from Mr. Bagley. She claimed she could not stand up against her brother. Now her face was set, her fists planted on her ample hips. He felt as if a tabby had turned into a mountain lion right before his eyes.
But he’d never run from a mountain lion, and he didn’t intend to now.
“I’ll honor our bargain,” he told her. “You’ll be free to live as you like. All I ask is the right to do the same.”
She