by Tracey Lyons
She held up her china cup while grandmother poured the steaming, peppermint-scented liquid. Then she gingerly brought the eggshell-thin cup to her mouth.
“This is delicious.” Hannah tried to keep the note of surprise out of her voice.
“Thank you, my dear.” She sipped from her cup and then smiled. “You know, this is good. Now if only I could remember how I concocted this recipe!”
Smiling in amusement, Hannah set the cup back on the saucer and watched as Grandmother neatly did the same.
“Tell me, how was your trip into town? Uneventful, I hope?”
She met her grandmother’s inquisitive gaze and frowned. “I wouldn’t say it was uneventful. Chase Malone is back.”
Grandmother sighed. “You knew he would return sooner or later. Hannah, the man has a job to do. And your grandfather seems to like him well enough.”
“I don’t see how he could. Mr. Malone wants our land. He said so the last time he was here.” Hannah felt her face flush with anger. “He implied as much when I saw him at Mabel Curtis’ mercantile.”
“He doesn’t want the land, he wants the mineral rights. The McClearys made a handsome deal with Tyler Mining.”
“This is our home and I don’t think we should let them come up here and rip open the mountainside.” Hannah knew she shouldn’t raise her voice, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Hannah, you mustn’t trouble yourself. Your grandfather will see to this matter.”
The sternness of her voice signaled that the subject was closed. Toying with the edge of the linen tablecloth, Hannah wondered how she could make Gram understand that it was her concern. She didn’t want to see the country torn up and ruined by the mining, she simply couldn’t let the Tyler Mining Company change that.
“How did he look?”
“He who?” Hannah asked, feigning innocence.
Her grandmother smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Why, Mr. Malone, of course.”
“He looked like he did the last time I saw him.” Hannah knew the answer didn’t satisfy Gram. Sighing, she continued, “He looked in good health.” She shifted in the chair as she recalled the way his dark brown hair curled up over the brim of his hat.
Too vivid in her mind was the way his gray eyes held a smile long after it had gone from his lips, the way his gaze had roved so freely over her body. No, she couldn’t forget the odd patter of her heartbeat when he’d walked into Mabel Curtis’s mercantile.
“As I recall, he was quite a handsome man.”
“He still is.” Hannah muttered the words softly. She held up her cup for some more tea. “Gram, I don’t wish to discuss him anymore.” The whole issue confused her.
“I think he’s a very interesting man.”
Interesting was not the word she’d have chosen to describe him. Crafty, arrogant, dangerous—those words would have been more to her liking.
With plump arms Gram pushed her round body away from the table. “I have to get the venison roast into the oven if it’s going to be ready for supper.”
Hannah cleared the tea things off the table and went to the sink. A comfortable silence fell between the two women as they went about their tasks. She washed the inside of the teapot with a soft cloth while her grandmother added some chunks of onion to the roast.
“Why don’t you wear your yellow dress for dinner tonight? The one with the lace trim on the sleeves.”
Her head snapped up. “We’re not having company, are we?” Hannah wouldn’t put it past her to invite one of their neighbors in for dinner.
“No, dear, I just don’t want you to get out of the habit of dressing as a young lady should.”
Hannah smiled. Gram didn’t approve of her granddaughter traipsing about in men’s clothing. “Thanks for the tea.” She hugged her close. “At least this time we could actually drink it,” she added with a giggle.
“You’re quite welcome, dear.”
Hannah finished putting the dishes away and then went to her bedroom. Though Gram had done her best to put her mind at ease where Chase Malone was concerned, still Hannah wondered what that man was going to do next.
Chapter Two
After lunch Chase rode out of town on a magnificent gray and white Appaloosa. Chase hadn’t planned on waiting so long to see the McClearys, but the week had gotten away from him. He’d have time to see Joe and still be prompt for dinner at the Curtis’s. The sun upon his back he rode in the direction of the McCleary place. Even though the deal had gone through he wanted to be certain that Joe McCleary wouldn’t give in to the pressure from his neighbors and try to back out.
After traveling for several miles, he turned off the main road and urged the horse onto a well-worn path. Slowing the horse’s pace, Chase looked around at the rocky landscape. Even he had to admit it was breathtaking and quiet.
Too damned quiet! He was used to the hectic pace of New York City where there were always people milling about. He’d lain awake for hours last night in his hotel room listening to the silence.
The trail began to get a little steeper as it climbed up along the side of a hill. After a few minutes the McCleary homestead came into view. The house was small, constructed of the ever-abundant and familiar white pine logs. Chase knew from his last visit that the inside of the home was just large enough for the family of four who lived there. The three rooms and loft barely held the family’s scant possessions, let alone allowing room for two rambunctious children to roam about.
A brown-haired collie came along the path, barking to warn of his arrival. He urged the stallion along as the dog ran in circles around them.
A lean-to shelter had been added to the side of the two-story barn and a corral had been constructed on the other side of the building. Joe McCleary pushed open the barn door, stepping out into the bright sunlight.
“Mr. Malone, didn’t expect to see you today,” McCleary said as he mopped his brow with a red handkerchief. “Wondered what old Sandy was making such a ruckus about.”
He stooped down and patted the dog on the head.
“How are you, Mr. McCleary?” Chase inquired, appraising the man before him. Joe McCleary couldn’t be more than thirty years old, but his graying hair and hunched shoulders gave him the appearance of a man ten years beyond that. Chase thought time spent trying to carve an existence out of this wilderness could do that to a man.
“Fine, just fine. Me and the missus were just talking about you and that mining company. When do you suppose the work will be starting?”
Chase dismounted and led the horse to a hitching post by the barn door. After tying off the reins, he let his mount drink from the water trough and turned to find Joe McCleary watching him. McCleary shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.
“I believe the work will begin in a month’s time.” Chase spoke in deliberate tones—times like this, he found it difficult to keep up the ruse. He was, however right or wrong, committed to seeing this job through to the bitter end.
Damn Tyler for using these people as pawns!
“One month?” McCleary rubbed his chin.
“Is there a problem?” The last thing he wanted was to have to renegotiate the deal he’d made with the McClearys months ago.
“No…well, it’s the missus, you see. She’s been talking with our neighbors. You know how women can be when they all get talking together.”
Chase looked around the property as if seeing it for the first time. The homestead was smaller than most, with wooded areas and a clearing for the cabin and the barn. Off to the right of the home was a large vegetable garden. From the back of the house came the clucking sounds of laying hens, the soft mooing of one of the cows in the small pasture. Beyond the clearing the beginning of a steep hill rose up to meet the mountainside—the same mountain the company intended to relieve of its ruby-colored gemstone.
“Not all my neighbors are pleased that Mr. Tyler is setting up business here in North Creek.”
Chase turned his attention back to
McCleary. He knew the neighbor McCleary referred to was Hannah Jackson. She was nothing but trouble.
“Perhaps I could speak to your wife and relieve her fears.”
McCleary glanced over his shoulder at the cabin.
The curtains at the front window flickered as Mrs. McCleary moved out of view.
“Right kind of you, Mr. Malone, but my wife is busy doing her work and won’t quit for nobody. She’s worried about the land and how it’s going to look when your outfit is finished with it.”
“We’ve been through all this before. I told you in great detail about the mining, and what you could expect, well before you signed the agreement.” Chase took a deep breath. He disliked what he was doing to these decent people. Maybe Hannah’s remark about him being a swindler wasn’t that far off the mark. “Tyler Mining has made a fair deal with you, Mr. McCleary. You’ll be compensated quite handsomely, without having to put forth any effort. You’ll have enough money to buy a larger homestead, if you so desire.”
“That’s just the point. My wife likes it here. She don’t want to move.” McCleary’s hands hung down at his sides.
“In six months’ time, when your wife sees the money coming in, she’ll have a change of heart,” Chase said with a smile. Feeling the walls of his lies crushing him, he grabbed the reins and untied his horse. “I have to be on my way. Please reassure your wife, Mr. McCleary. I’ll be at the hotel if you need to speak with me further.” Chase mounted up and, tipping his hat, rode toward town.
He arrived back in the center of North Creek near supper time. He’d have just enough time to wash up and change his clothes before going to the Curtis’s. His stomach growled as he returned the horse to the stable and then walked back to the hotel.
He entered the establishment and was immediately set upon by the clerk.
“Mr. Malone, I thought you’d gotten lost.” Jeb Daley smiled, showing a chipped tooth, one of the few he had left.
“No, I remember my way around just fine,” Chase grumbled. He didn’t feel much like making conversation with Daley.
“Got a telegram for you. Arrived about two hours ago. Looks mighty important.”
Chase snatched the piece of paper out of Daley’s trembling hand without comment and climbed the stairs to his room. He wasn’t about to give Daley a chance to see his reaction to the message—although he was certain Daley had already read the note.
He swore under his breath when he saw what the telegram said.
Crew will arrive in ten days. Stop. Will need supplies to build camp. Stop. Crew leader will be Amos Smithson. Stop. Hope all is well. Tyler. Stop.
“Damnation!” Amos Smithson, Smitty to the workers, was trouble. Not to mention he could be the one loose cannon in Chase’s carefully laid plans. He knew Smitty would fight his authority every step of the way. He also knew the only reason Tyler assigned him here was because he expected trouble. Amos Smithson would be here to intimidate anyone who tried to stand in the way of the mining project.
As Chase poured some tepid water from the white pitcher into the washbowl, he thought about Hannah Jackson. While the barbed comments she traded with him were harmless enough, she’d be no match for Amos Smithson.
Hannah stepped out of the warm bathwater, quickly toweling herself off. Snatching the white cotton wrapper from the end of her bed, she slipped into it. She’d spent the better part of the day attending to chores and if it hadn’t been for her grandmother’s reminder of the time she’d still be out in the barn cleaning the stalls.
Pulling the heavy wrapper about her she walked over to open the wardrobe door. It had been months since she’d been in the predicament of deciding what to wear.
She’d packed all her frilly garments, along with the striped skirts and white lawn blouses, in the back of the mahogany wardrobe that stood in her bedroom. She remembered the day clearly—the day Chase Malone had walked into her life. She’d just hung the last skirt in place when she’d heard him conversing with her grandfather on the porch.
It hadn’t taken her long to figure out who he was. Since her bedroom faced the front of the house, with a window that overlooked the porch, she overheard much of their conversation. From the moment she had learned of the reason for his visit to the homestead, Hannah had been wary of him.
Her grandfather had called to her, asking her to bring them some lemonade. Never one to disobey, Hannah did as she was asked —and that was how she met Chase Malone. She found him on the front porch leaning against the railing acting as if he and Grandfather were old friends. It was obvious even then that Mr. Malone’s intent was to persuade her grandfather to sell his mineral rights.
Even now the memory made her smile. Mr. Malone had played the gentleman as he accepted the cool drink from her outstretched hand. Until he took a large swallow. He all but spit the sour mixture back out. Grandfather had said make lemonade—he didn’t say to add sugar!
Pushing the thoughts aside, Hannah decided on a prim gray cotton dress with a rosebud print. After dressing she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Underneath the draped and ruched skirt, a matching rose pleated box hem just skimmed the tips of her satin shoes. Her straight black hair had been pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Nervously, she patted it, making sure every strand would stay held in place by the hairpins, then she joined her grandparents already waiting in their carriage.
Half an hour later they waited on the Curtis’s front porch to gain entrance to the spacious home. Hannah took a moment to smooth down the front of her skirt before stepping over the threshold.
“Hannah, how wonderful you look!” Julia, who answered their knock, hugged her close and then stepped back at arm’s length to smile her approval. “I’m so pleased you could come.”
“Me, too.” Hannah looked at her dearest friend and returned her smile. Julia looked like a radiant, soon-to-be bride, her golden hair swept up off the sides of her round face with small ringlets framing her brow and pink cheeks. Her gown, of a brown silk with tiny pearl buttons, suited her well.
“Come, I see that your grandparents have already found their way into the parlor.” Julia linked her arm through Hannah’s and led her down the wide hallway.
“Your mother’s cooking certainly smells delicious.” The evening breeze carried the scent of the roast beef throughout the house.
“She’s been in the kitchen all day. I took over in the shop so she could stay at home.” Julia wrinkled her nose. “You know I hate cooking.”
Hannah laughed at her outright admission of her lack of culinary skills. “You did tell Stephen that you don’t cook?”
Lowering her voice, Julia quipped, “Oh, he knows.” She winked. “He’s not marrying me for my cooking.”
Hannah’s reply froze on her lips as she entered the parlor and saw the other dinner guests.
“Good evening, Miss Jackson.”
She would have recognized that cultured voice anywhere.
She could only stare, open-mouthed and dumbfounded, at Chase Malone. There he stood with his hand extended toward her in greeting. She took in his almost too-formal evening attire, a dark striped suit with a starched white shirt. She nearly smiled in satisfaction at the way his unruly dark curls poked up from his shirt collar. Even the hair tonic that he’d so liberally used couldn’t keep those curls in place.
She had little choice but to accept his smooth hand in her own, calloused ones. His cool gray eyes inspected every inch of her. She wished more than ever that she was dressed in the comfort of her loose shirt and denim pants. Instead she was confined in a corset that felt much too tight. Did he prefer her in a dress or in pants?
Furious at herself for wondering, Hannah waited until his gaze returned to her own and said, “Good evening, Mr. Malone. I had no idea that you were friends with the Curtis family.”
“You mean that I know them well enough to receive a dinner invitation?” His dark eyebrows rose.
“I assumed you might be acquainted with the sheriff. He does
such a fine job keeping track of the ruffians who come through our town,” she shot back smoothly. “But I hardly thought you would be on top of their social list.”
Ignoring her insult, he held her hand a few minutes longer then allowed it to drop at her side. “I see that dinner is about to be put out. Shall we go into the dining room?” He bowed mockingly then had the audacity to offer her his arm.
About to snub him, she caught her grandmother’s reproachful stare. Stiffening her back she placed her hand in the crook of his arm and let him lead her to the table. She was surprised when she felt the hard muscle of his arm underneath the smooth fabric of his expensive evening coat; she would have expected someone who spent most of his time in a city office to be soft and fleshy.
Mumbling a “thank you,” she extracted her hand from Mr. Malone’s arm.
“Hannah, you sit here.” Julia indicated a fabric-covered chair near the middle of the table. “And Mr. Malone, you come around and sit here.” Julia stepped back from the chair directly across the oval table from Hannah.
Hannah sighed. All hope of enjoying a pleasant and relaxing evening with friends was lost.
Throughout the meal she felt Malone’s gaze on her. It made her feel unsettled and more than once she found herself reaching up to make certain that her hair remained in its neatly wound chignon. Yet through it all, she managed to keep up a cheery front, trying to give Julia, seated to her left, her undivided attention.
“Oh, Hannah, wait until you see the material I’ve picked out for my wedding gown. It’s simply divine. And for you I’ve decided on a midnight blue satin. It will suit your coloring to perfection.” Julia’s face flushed with excitement as she discussed her impending nuptials.
Hannah, however, found it difficult to pay her friend the attention she deserved. She was far more interested in what Mr. Malone was saying to Stephen.
“I believe the people of North Creek will find that the income from the McCleary mine will far outweigh the overall effect of the mining operation on the land.”
Pressing her lips together, she twisted the linen napkin on her lap. Trying her best not to raise her voice, she said, “Perhaps greed is what motivates you to do business in the city, Mr. Malone. I can assure you it is not the way we think here in the Adirondacks.”