would concern her friend Madeleine. The feisty redhead would have no trouble enlisting the aid of the sheriff and his young deputy to find Catherine. A posse could be on its way even now.
If the men had any idea which way to go.
That thought gave her pause. As her young kidnapper worked on the rope and Mr. Wallin stood sentinel, arms crossed over his broad chest, she glanced around. The wagon was pulled over among the brush at the edge of the road, two horses waiting. A muddy track stretched in either direction, firs crowding close on both sides. In places she could still see the low stumps of trees that had been cut to carve out the road. She could make out blue sky above, but the forest blocked the view of any landmark that might tell her where she was.
Levi stepped back with a frustrated puff. “She went and pulled the rope too tight. We’ve going to have to cut it.” His voice was nearly a whine at the loss of the cord.
“If you value your material so highly,” Catherine said, “next time think before using it to kidnap someone.”
“No one is kidnapping anyone,” Mr. Wallin said, his firm voice brooking no argument.
She argued anyway. “I believe that is the correct term when one has been abducted and held against her will, sir.”
He grimaced. “It may be the right term, but I refuse to allow it to be the right circumstance. We’ll return you home as soon as possible.”
He pulled out a long knife from the sheath at his waist, the blade honed to a point that gleamed in the sunlight. Though he towered over her as he reached for her, she felt no fear as he sawed through the rope and freed her.
“I haven’t heard that apology, Levi,” he reminded the boy with a look that would have blistered paint.
Levi shrugged. “Sorry to inconvenience you, but my mother is sick. Now, will you just get back in the wagon so we can go home?”
Catherine took a step away from them both. “I am going no farther. Return me to Seattle.”
“Can’t,” Levi said, hopping back up onto the wagon’s tongue. “Too far.”
“He’s right,” Drew Wallin said before Catherine could argue with his brother, as well. He nodded to what must be the west, for she could see the light slanting low through the trees from that direction. “The horses are spent. We’ll never make it back to Seattle before dark, and it isn’t safe for the horses or us to be out here at night.”
She could believe that. Since coming to the town, she’d rarely ventured beyond it. Those forests were dark, the underbrush dense in places. Allegra’s husband, Clay Howard, who had accompanied them on their journey from New York, had explained all about the dangers of getting lost—bears, wolves and cougars; unfriendly natives; crumbling cliffs and rushing rivers. She certainly didn’t want to blunder about in the dark.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So where do you propose to take shelter tonight?”
“We’ll make for the Landing,” he assured her, “but I promise you I’ll return you to Seattle tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow we’re supposed to fell that fir for Captain Collings,” Levi protested before Catherine could answer. “We can’t do that without you!”
Mr. Wallin turned away from them both. “As Miss Stanway said, there are consequences for your decision,” he tossed back over his shoulder as he walked along the wagon to the team. “You should have thought before acting. Now get in the back. Miss Stanway will be riding with me.”
Grumbling, the youth clambered deeper into the bed of the wagon and set his back to the sideboard, long legs stretching out over the supplies.
Catherine couldn’t make herself follow the elder Mr. Wallin. She still wasn’t sure where they were taking her.
“This landing,” she said, “how far is it?”
“Another few miles,” he replied, running his hands over the nearest horse as if checking for signs of strain. “On Lake Union.”
Lake Union was north of Seattle’s platted streets, she knew. The Seattle Gazette, the weekly newspaper, had been full of stories recently about how the lake could serve as Seattle’s chief water source as the town grew. There’d been talk of building a navigable canal between Lake Washington to the east and Lake Union, perhaps even to Puget Sound for transporting logs.
But right now, all those were nothing but dreams. The only people she knew about who lived on Lake Union were Indians.
And, apparently, Drew Wallin.
“Are there any women at this landing?” she asked.
He had been frowning at her. Now his brow cleared as if he understood her concerns at last.
“My mother and my sister,” he said. “Beth is only fourteen, but I think most of the gossips in Seattle would count her as a chaperone. Your reputation is safe, ma’am.”
Still she couldn’t make herself move. Was he telling the truth? Was Seattle really so far behind them? She glanced back the way they had come and saw only the mud of the track stretching into the distance—no sign of smoke from a campfire or cabin, no other travelers. A gull swooped low with a mournful call. They were close to water, then, but she could say that of any location near Seattle.
She was tempted to simply walk away, but if a wagon and team couldn’t reach Seattle by dark, what chance did she have on foot?
She nodded. “Very well, Mr. Wallin.”
She followed him back to the box of the wagon, passing Levi’s narrowed look. He acted as if she should feel guilty for inconveniencing him! A shame she was entirely too mature to stick out her tongue at him, however highly satisfactory that would have been. A shame Maddie wasn’t here with her. Her friend would have given him an earful.
They reached the front of the wagon, and she put out her hand to climb in. Before she knew what he was about, Drew Wallin put both hands on her waist and lifted her onto the bench as if she weighed nothing. For the first time since this adventure had started, her heart stuttered. She took a deep breath to steady herself and busied herself arranging her skirts as he jumped up beside her and took the reins.
“Give her your hat,” he ordered Levi without so much as looking back.
The youth, who had been lounging against the side of the wagon, jerked upright. “Give her your own. You’re the oldest.”
“I don’t require a hat,” Catherine assured them both, but Mr. Wallin reached one arm over the back of the box and rapped his brother on the head. In answer, Levi tossed up a brown wool hat with a battered brim, which Mr. Wallin caught with one hand. He offered it to Catherine as if it were a jeweled ring on a velvet pillow.
“We still have a ways to go,” he explained when she hesitated. “And I need to walk the horses, so it may take us a bit. I know my sister is always talking about how a lady needs to protect her complexion from the sun.”
He was trying to be considerate, and though the hat had clearly seen better days, she knew it for a peace offering.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting
