Lars stumbled from the mine as the sun set on a cool Saturday evening. Ellie rose from the bench and scurried to his side. She peeked at his bandages. A bit of blood seeped through the material, but every day showed less red. His hands would be a protective mass of calluses soon. She sighed her relief and resisted the urge to hug him, soothe his weary back, hold his hand. At night in their camp they sat close and held hands under the blanket, but their ruse was a carefully guarded secret.
Lars ran a hand over his weary face. “I’m going to collect my pay. Wait on the bench.”
The foreman set a gray metal box on a wooden table. He lowered his bulk into a spindly chair and unlocked it. He motioned the first miner forward with a flick of his hand.
“McGrath,” the dusty man muttered. A smattering of coins dropped into his hand. Satisfied with the count, the miner dropped them into his pocket.
“Anderson.” The next man stepped forward. He pushed the coins about in his big paw. “This ain’t right. I should have one dollar and eighty cents.” His voice vibrated an angry tune.
“You were late Wednesday, Anderson. You can’t expect to be paid for not working.” The manager’s voice so sharp it could have chipped a piece off the wall of the mine.
“Ten minutes behind time, and he keeps half a day’s pay. It ain’t right,” Anderson grumbled, but he turned away and headed for the saloon.
“Carson.” The next man held out his hand.
“Carson, we deducted fifty cents to apply against your bill at the saloon as agreed.” The man stared glumly at the little pile of glittering money before moving on.
“Nielson,” Lars spat out. Ellie’s heart clenched and her stomach soured. They wouldn’t stay here any longer than absolutely necessary. These men worked hard, were paid little, and shown even less respect. Greedy bastards. The mine owners held good men under their thumbs, dependent, angry and trapped.
Lars closed his fist around the money and moved away. The next minor shuffled forward.
“I have my pay,” Lars said. “Let’s spend eighty cents in the store and save the dollar. We won’t get much, but I won’t fall into their trap.”
Ellie nodded and followed him into the grubby store. They had a bag of cornmeal, six eggs, a small packet of butter, a bit of bacon, beans and enough coffee for two cups a day each on the counter. Lars signaled the storekeeper,
“We need a bar of soap.” Ellie pointed to a stack of rough soap on the counter.
“It’s five cents,” Lars grumbled.
“You have to be able to get clean at night,” Ellie said, keeping her voice low and gravely. “Please. I know you’ll feel better with a proper wash.”
Lars considered the soap through squinted lids and shrugged his shoulders. “All right. I never thought I’d see a bar of soap as a luxury, and I’m not going to start now.” He added the bar to their pile of goods.
The saloon roared with laughter and shouting. The tinkling notes of a poorly tuned piano floated over the swinging the door. Ellie took a furtive glance as they passed. A girl in a shabby green dress sat on a miner’s lap. When the girl looked up, Ellie gave a little wave. The startled girl looked around in search of the intended recipient of that friendly gesture. She pointed at herself; Ellie nodded and waved a second time. The girl waved back before the miner grabbed her chin in his grimy hand and forced her to accept his kiss. Ellie shuddered. Lars’ kisses were a wonder, a splendor of delight that sent thunderbolts of heat ricocheting through from head to foot and back again. Kissing that dirty miner had to be repulsive. The poor girl.
Lars followed her look, “Those fools. They’ll never be free of this mine if they spend a week’s hard wages every Saturday night.”
Back at camp, Lars unwrapped the soap. “I’m going to get cleaned up. I feel like a new man after a good bath.”
“I’ll start supper,” she called to his retreating back. The menu would be corn cakes and bacon. A little butter on the bread would make it a feast.
Lars slept much of Sunday. His exhausted body replenishing and preparing for the long workweek ahead.
“How long will we stay here?” Ellie asked. They sat cross-legged by the fire holding supper plates on their knees.
“Three weeks,” Lars’ answer was definitive. “We’ll have three dollars. It’s enough to move on. I hate being in that shaft away from the sun all day. Three weeks and then we move on. I don’t want to give Simon a chance to catch up with us either.”
Ellie grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” She stood and went to pat the horses. “At least Tiny and Missy are happy. Fresh water and lots of grass.” Her voice broke. Tears slid down her cheeks.
“It’s Simon Prescott’s fault. I won’t hear you say otherwise.” Lars laid a swift spank on her bottom before pulling her in for their goodnight kiss.
Lars was at the mine every morning when the whistle blew the following week, and Ellie kept her silent vigil from the bench in front of the store. Burt had tried to strike up a conversation a time of two, but she had given him single syllable answers until he tired of her and returned inside.
When Lars was paid, they did another round of careful shopping. On the way past the saloon, Ellie waved at the young girl again. This time she was dressed in vivid yellow, and she sat on a different miner’s lap.
“Who are you waving at?” Lars demanded.
“The girl in the yellow dress,” Ellie answered, surprised at his vehemence.
“Ellie, she’s a whore. You shouldn’t have anything to do with a woman like that,” he insisted.
“I think she’s lonely and sad. I think she’s trapped here same as the miners. If a woman had a choice, she wouldn’t sit on a different man’s lap every night.”
Lars considered her words. “I suppose you’re right, but the only lap you need to worry your pretty head about is mine,” he growled. “You give that saloon a wide berth.”
Lars started the third week. It would be his last, and Ellie wanted shut of this nasty place as much as he did.
Wednesday, she ate the cornbread she had with her and headed for the protection of the trees. She wandered for a bit before finding shelter behind a big redwood and dropped her pants.
“I thought something was funny about you, Al, or is it Alice?” Burt emerged from behind a tree with a smirk on his face and a bulge in his trousers. “Who are you really?”
She spun a new lie smooth as silk. “I’m Lars’ sister. He thought I’d be safer dressed as a boy.” Ellie fastened her britches. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“He’s got the right of it. Take off your hat. I want to see your hair.” Burt moved closer.
“All right.” She held her hands up to stop his advance. Ellie pulled the hat from her hair and a tumble of red slid to her waist.
“Holy mother of God,” Burt sputtered. “Would you look at that?” He moved to touch it, but Ellie stepped back.
“Lars will be mighty angry if you touch me, Burt,” Ellie declared. “You best keep your distance.”
“All right. Lars looks like a mean son-of-a-bitch.” He said with conviction. “I’ll keep your secret. I got to get back to the store before I’m missed.” He shook his head like a big wooly bear before leaving.
Ellie heaved a sigh at the sight of his retreating back. She frowned and rubbed her boot back and forth in the dirt. Should she tell Lars? He hated it when she kept secrets. Her bottom clenched at the thought. But, he only wanted to work three more days. Then they could leave with three dollars in his pocket, and Burt promised to keep their secret.
“Something bothering you tonight?” Lars asked as he sank to the ground with a groan.
Ellie scanned the night sky for the correct answer. It didn’t appear. She was on her own with this one. Truth or Lie? “No, I’m fine.” Lies win.
He shrugged his shoulders and yawned. “I’m so tired. Three more days in that dank dark, and we’re leaving.” He patted the blanket next to him. “Come lay down by me.”
Morning arrived before they were rested, but Lars gulped his coffee and ate a piece of leftover cornbread on the way to the mines. When the shaft swallowed him, Ellie took her seat on the bench. After eating her own cornbread for dinner, she went in search of privacy.
“Who’s there?” she called. She was nervous as a new bride, but leaves crunched under someone’s foot. She’d been followed. Maybe Burt wanted to find her with her pants around her ankles again. She stopped and listened.
“Who’s there?” she asked a second time.
“It’s me,” a light, feminine voice answered.
“Show yourself,” Ellie demanded.
The girl from the tavern stepped from behind a giant tree into the light. “Folks call me Sally,” she offered.
Ellie’s shoulders dropped, and her forehead lost a furrow or two.
“Howdy, Sally,” Ellie smiled at the girl. She looked terribly young and thin and frightened.
Sally looked behind her. “I don’t have much time. I better be back before Brenda notices I’m missing. There will be hell to pay if she knows I stepped out. She watches us for Mr. Kennett. He don’t want us giving away our services. I wouldn’t do that. It’s bad enough when Brenda says I have to sit on their laps and go upstairs with those dirty miners.” She shuddered.
“What can I do for you, Sally?” Ellie was curious as a cat in a sack.
“Nobody ever waved at me before, and it was right nice, so I came to warn you.” She looked behind her again before she hurried on. “Burt came to the saloon last night and got plenty drunk. People talk too much when they drink, and that’s a fact. He said you weren’t no boy after all. He said he saw you peeing in the woods with your pants around your ankles. He said you’re Nielson’s sister, not his brother. He said you had hair like flaming silk that flowed all the way to your butt.” She blushed. “Well, that’s what he said. There were only a few miners drinking since it wasn’t Saturday, but they’ll spread the word. You been found out. I came to warn you.”
Ellie’s hand covered her mouth, and she leaned forward like she’d been walloped good in the midsection. “Oh my God,” she muttered. “Thank you, Sally. I appreciate the warning. You better head back before we’re both in trouble.” She reached out and laid a hand on Sally’s arm. “I hope you get out of here one day. I surely do.”
Sally nodded. “Me, too. Good luck, Al. Well, I guess that ain’t really your name, but good luck.” She sped away through the trees.
Ellie wandered back to her bench pulling her hat as far as it would go. How many of these men already knew?
Lars appeared at the end of the mine with sagging shoulders and dragging feet. Ellie raced to meet him.
“Hello, brother,” Lars greeted her. “What’s the hurry?”
“I… I caught a big fish. I want to show you.” She pulled on his arm.
“All right. Quit pulling on my arm. I’m coming.”
Ellie trotted all the way to camp with Lars striding alongside. When they arrived, Lars put his hands on his hips and raised a single eyebrow.
“What’s this about? I know there isn’t any fish.” His pale eyes burned in accusation.
“They know,” she sputtered.
“They know what?” he demanded.
“They know I’m not a boy.” Her voice rose to new heights.
“Take a breath and slow down. How do they know?”
“Yesterday, Burt followed me and saw me peeing in the woods, and…”
“Yesterday?” His voice grew loud, and she wished she had the nerve to tell him to take a breath. She figured she was in enough trouble already without issuing orders.
“Yes, yesterday. Burt followed me. He said he was curious where I went, so he followed me and caught me peeing like a girl. I told him I was your sister, and you thought I’d be safer if I looked like a boy.” She peeked at his granite jaw and sighed.
“And?” he prompted.
“He wanted to see my hair, so I took off my hat.”
“You showed him your hair?” he asked.
“Well, it didn’t seem like it could do more harm. He already knew, but Lars, he promised to keep it a secret. I didn’t tell you because you only wanted to work three more days. I didn’t want to worry you.”
“God damn it,” Lars hissed. “What do I have to do to make you understand? Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than your safety.” He dragged his hat from his head and slapped his leg three times. “I do believe we’ve had this discussion before. You should have told me, Ellie. You didn’t mean for him to discover you, but you did mean to lie to me.”
“I didn’t lie…”
“Ellie.” His voice was a low warning.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she conceded.
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be,” he promised. “Is that all? Burt knows?”
“No, Sally followed me into the woods today,” Ellie began.
Confusion flitted across his handsome face. “Who the devil is Sally?”
“The girl I waved to in the saloon.”
“What did Sally want? Seems to me your peeing is becoming a public spectacle. Go on.” He made a little shooing motion like she was a chicken who needed to return to the roost.
“She said Burt came to the saloon last night and got drunk. He told everyone that I was a girl. He said I had red hair that ran all the way to my butt. She came to warn me. I’m sorry, Lars, but Burt promised,” she wailed.
“We’re leaving,” Lars declared. He began to gather their few belongings.
“What? What about your pay?”
“My pay be damned. Your safety is all I care about.” He took her shoulders in both hands and gave a small shake. “Men think about women all the time. They think about their softness, their breasts, their hair. They imagine all the things they would like to do with and to a woman. Take my word for it. These men have been sharing the same three women for months. But now, there’s a new one within reach. They’re going to wonder about that hair. Does it really reach her butt? Is it really red? Some might be angry that you fooled them.” He gave a final shake before letting his hands drop to his side. “I can’t take the chance. I can’t go into the mine and leave you unprotected.”
He resumed packing. When he lifted the wooden spoon they used to stir the beans, he smacked it into his palm a time or two. “You hang on to this Ellie girl. You keep it with you. I aim to put it to good use after a bit, and you better have it ready when I ask for it. If I spanked you now, you wouldn’t sit for a week. I need to cool down. I might really hurt you if I spanked in anger.” He waved the spoon in her direction.
Ellie swallowed, hard, but she took the spoon and tucked into the waistband of her pants.
“I’ll saddle the horses. They’ve been lazy here. A good run will do them good.” He picked up a saddle and headed toward the horses that were happily chomping grass.
She gathered the rest of their belongings and stuffed them into the saddlebags. Then she went to the river to fetch their bar of soap. She’d be darned if she was leaving it behind.
Lars moved a large rock and dug down until he found their stash of coins. He put them in his pocket and gave them a pat.
“Come here, Ellie.” He waved her to him.
He put one booted foot on a nearby log and lifted her over his leg. With one hand he held her steady and with the other he laid into her bottom with steady spanks. When she squirmed like a fish on the line and began to cry, he set her back on the ground.
“I couldn’t wait. I’m so angry and disappointed, but that’s just a taste, Ellie girl. Just a taste.”
He took firm hold of her upper arm and escorted her to her horse. His hands took possession of her waist, and he threw her up into the saddle.
They left the mine behind. Good riddance, she thought. They both hated that place. The wooden spoon gave an occasional poke reminding her of an appointment she knew was coming, and one she deserved.
She’d been thinking on a plan. It
wasn’t risk free, but running wasn’t risk free either. She would share it with Lars soon, but not now. No, not when his jaw was set to break boulders and his shoulders were set in stone.
Not now, but soon.
Chapter 9
Lars kept a quick pace and took them two hours upriver before pulling Tiny to a halt.
“We’ll camp here,” he declared before swinging from his saddle in a single move. “Lord, it feels good to be in the saddle again. If I never enter another mine, it will be too soon.”
He covered the ground to Ellie’s horse in two steps and held out his hands. She leaned into them, and he let her slide down the front of his body. Every muscle he knew and some he didn’t vibrated with longing for her. He hoped they could figure a way out of this mess, so he could claim her good and proper. He’d never had much self-control, and this waiting had worn thin.
“Are you still angry with me, Lars?” Ellie’s voice trembled.
“It’s wearing off. But I’ve been thinking on what might have happened today while I was stuck in that mine. You could have been raped, beaten, kidnapped. One of those men could have seen Simon’s poster.” His voice disappeared into a whisper. “It makes my blood run cold just thinking on it.”
“I’m sorry. Burt promised he wouldn’t tell.” She peeked up at the mountain of man standing before her.
Lars snorted. “We’ve known Burt for all of two weeks, and you trusted him with your life.” His pale eyes snapped. “Go collect wood for a fire, but don’t go where I can’t see you. I’m not over my fright.”
Ellie gathered a pile of twigs to use for kindling and another pile of heftier branches to keep their flame blazing. As she worked, she kept her eyes on Lars as he prepared the horses for the night. His rigid back emitted a clear message of anger mixed with disappointment. The handle of the wooden spoon poked her stomach as she bent to retrieve wood. She sighed. The reckoning had yet to come.
Here Comes McBride (Journey's End Book 1) Page 9