The Lumberjack

by Kelli Ann Morgan

  He wasn’t listening to her.

  “I saw—”

  “You saw me trade Whittaker’s saw for a dull one from the livery in the last event?” He nodded as if understanding a truth. “It was just to put us all on even playing fields. It made the competition more fair,” he justified.

  She threw open the door wide.

  “You did what?” she asked, incredulously, her hands on her hips. “Eustice, I wasn’t upset about that before because I didn’t know about it, but you can sure-fire bet I am upset about it now.”

  He winced, realizing he had revealed too much.

  “Funny thing,” she said, “Eli Whittaker still won that event. What does that tell you?”

  “Hannah,” Eustice said in a coaxing sort of voice. “Be reasonable.”

  “Mr. Hollings, let me be perfectly clear. I am accustomed to the men in my life treating others with respect and dignity—whether friend or foe, stranger or kin. I have never once seen any of my brothers cheat to get ahead in anything, let alone for a silly sack race competition. You lost my respect today and I am unsure if there is anything you can do to ever gain it back.”

  “There must be some misunderstanding. I…”

  “Is everything all right out here, Hannah?”

  She had never been so happy to see her brother in her life.

  “We’re okay, Ethan. Mr. Hollings was just leaving.”

  Eustice’s face contorted for a fleeting moment into the pinched expression of child about to throw a tantrum before donning a more stoic façade.

  “I guess I’ll just see you at the dance,” he said as he made his way back to his wagon.

  Ethan put his arm around her as they watched the man pull out of the yard. “I guess he won’t be joining the family any time soon.”

  Hannah jabbed playfully at her brother’s ribs with an elbow, then leaned into the comfort of his shoulder. “Definitely not.”

  After a few moments, her head shot up and she pulled away from her brother. “Did you see Brant at the jubilee?”

  “Come to think of it, no. And that’s odd. I wonder what held him up. He was looking forward to trying to best me in the log-roll. I guess it’s good he didn’t see Whittaker hand us all our pride in our hats.”

  Hannah laughed with her brother, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

  “Ethan, I know this is going to sound strange, but I think we need to head over to their place. Maeve wouldn’t have missed the festivities without a good reason. Will you come with me to check on them?”

  “Normally, I would tell you not to worry. After all, they are grown adults and can take care of themselves, but the pit that just sank in my gut tells me that I think you’re right.” He jumped down off the porch and turned back to Hannah. “I’ll just go tell Grace and I’ll meet you out at the stable.”

  She’d planned on changing out of her now mud-stained clothes in favor of something a little fancier for the dance, but her friend was much more important than any social gathering and she hustled to the main stable.

  “Marty,” she said to the foreman, who had just finished brushing down his own mount, “do you think you could help me get Storm saddled?”

  “Y’all headed somewhere?”

  “Out to the Stillwater’s. You don’t remember seeing Brant at all today, do you?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, reaching for Ethan’s tack. “Last I heard, they were headed over to Platte Woods to tell his parents the good news. They were supposed to be back yesterday, but something may have delayed them.”

  That would explain a lot, but she still could not rid herself of the unease that had settled in her belly.

  “Why the concern?”

  “It’s nothing really. I just didn’t think they’d miss the Apple Harvest Jubilee. Maeve looks forward to it every year.”

  While she slung her own tack onto Whisper’s back, Marty worked on Ethan’s black and grey gelding, so by the time her brother got out to the stable, they were ready to go.

  “Thanks, Marty,” Ethan said, clapping the man on the back and taking Storm’s reins.

  “Anytime, boss.” He turned to Hannah. “I hope everything’s all right.”

  She smiled. “Me too.”

  It only took a quarter of an hour to get out to the Stillwell’s. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but a cow was bawling in the barn.

  Ethan jumped down off his horse and headed straight for the sound.

  Hannah slipped down from Whisper’s back and tossed the straps over the corral fence. She ran her hand down the Belgian’s side before treading up to the house.

  Knock. Knock.

  She peered inside the windows, but the house looked empty, so she walked around back where she found several hens gathered around the base of the coop. Hannah opened the door to let them in, but found that the eggs from each nest had already been collected for the day.

  Puzzling.

  “Maeve,” she called as she stepped out of the coop and closed the door tight behind her. “Maeve,” she called again, rushing toward the gated field. “Brant, Maeve are you out there?”

  Panic rose in her chest.

  Someone had to have collected the eggs this morning.

  She dashed to the barn to find Ethan.

  “They’re not here,” he said, settled down on a stool in front of the Stillwell’s cow, a silver bucket on the ground as Ethan milked her.

  “How can you be sure? There’s no one at the house and the eggs have all been gathered from the coop, and I...” The words flowed from her mouth so quickly, she had to stop a moment to breathe.

  “Slow down, sis, and look over there.” He pointed with his chin to a piece of yellowed paper on the work table.

  She snatched it up. It was a list of instructions.

  “It looks like they paid somebody to help take care of the place while they were gone.”

  “But why didn’t she tell me she was going anywhere?” The question was more for herself than for Ethan.

  “They must have been expected back last night. My guess is whomever was in charge milked Aggie here and collected the eggs last night before allowing the hens in to sleep.”

  “Then how did the chickens get out again this morning?”

  Cluck...cluck, cluck, cluck...cluck.

  Hannah whipped around to see one of the hens she’d just let into the coop strutting at her feet. She reached down to pick her up and petted down the feathers on her back.

  “Now, how did you get out?”

  “I’m guessing there is a hole in the coop.”

  Ting. Splash. Ting. Splash.

  “Well, that is not safe, now is it?” she said, intent on returning toward the coop.

  “Wait,” Ethan called after her, pausing the flow and raising a finger, “I think that Brant had those one-way chicken doors installed last month, so he didn’t have to let them out in the mornings.”

  “All the same, I think I’ll just check.”

  The other hens had all settled down into their nests for the night, but this girl did not seem to want to stay inside.

  “You must be the newest of the bunch,” she said with a chuckle.

  After setting the hen back inside, Hannah circled the perimeter, inspecting the raised wooden house for any holes. When she rounded the back, she discovered that Ethan had been right.

  There was a new ramp leading up to a one-way door that indeed could only open with a push from the inside. As she stood there looking at the door, the same hen nudged it open and walked down the plank, happily bobbing her head.

  “Well, that just won’t do.” Hannah gathered the chicken again in her arms and walked back to the barn.

  Ethan was just pounding the lid on the milk can. He patted the jersey on her hind end, who seemed pleased as punch to having been freed from a full udder.

  “Good job, girl,” he said as he picked up the can and hauled it out to his horse.

  “I’m worried this young hen d
oesn’t want to stay in the coop. I think I’ll just take her home with us until Maeve gets back.”

  “Big surprise there,” Ethan laughed.

  “Whatever do you mean, big brother?”

  “You take in every stray you come across—whether it already has a home or not. You have a kind heart, Hannah Redbourne. To a fault.”

  “I’m not keeping her,” she protested.

  “I’m sure you won’t.”

  “What are you going to do with the milk?”

  Since there was no way to keep it cold here, it would need to be either taken to someone with an icebox or someone in need.

  “The Millers just lost their dairy cow to the bank and after losing most of their crop, I’m sure they’ll be grateful. I think I’ll swing by on my way home and drop it off there, courtesy of the Stillwells, of course.”

  “Oh, no,” Hannah exclaimed. “Jenny makes some of the most delicious cheese. Mother and I just were over there last week and purchased a few blocks from her. Now, I wish we would have bought more. What are they going to do? They have five children.”

  Ethan winked at her. “I have a feeling everything is going to work out for them,” he said mysteriously. “But for now, I’m sure this will tide them over for a few days.” He strapped the milk can onto one side of his mount and climbed up.

  She handed him the chicken. Then, using the rungs of the fence, she propped herself up enough to slip a foot into the stirrup and swung onto her horse, grateful for the girth of her skirt hem. Once in her saddle, Ethan handed her the hen.

  “Now, you get on home or you’ll be late for the dance.”

  “Do you think Maeve is all right?” she asked, hoping for some reassurances.

  “I think Brant is a good man who will do everything he needs to in order to protect her. A delay can mean several things, so don’t you let that wonderful imagination of yours run wild with you.” He smiled with a nod and pulled his horse around in the direction of the Miller’s place. “It’s going to start getting dark soon, so don’t dawdle.”

  How she still let her brothers tell her what to do was a mystery, but she respected and trusted them more than anything or anyone in the world.

  “I’m headed home now,” she said with only a hint of exasperation in her voice. “And, I’m not the only one who has a big heart, Ethan!” she called after him.

  So do you.

  Chapter 7

  “I thought you were going to be run right out of town,” Jonah said with a laugh as they sat down at a table in the hotel restaurant to grab some supper.

  Eli salivated at the savory smells of grilling meat, garlic, and onions as he set his hat down on the chair next to him. The abundance of pie and pastries had been delicious, but after their trip, he needed some real food in his belly. They would be headed over to Redbourne Ranch soon enough, but he wanted to be focused on something other than hunger pangs when he got there.

  “You boys new in town?” A woman with bouncy brown curls pinned to her head asked.

  “Just passing through,” Jonah said.

  “Wait, didn’t I see you fellas over at the jubilee this morning?” the waitress asked, sticking the pencil she held behind her ear.

  “Yep,” Jonah said, then reached over and clapped Eli on the shoulder. “This is the man who won over half of the events.”

  Eli wanted to punch him.

  “Oh, you’re the lumberjack that I’ve heard so much about.”

  “Guilty,” Eli said with a shake of his head.

  The woman reminded him of the ladies back at the lumber camp, though her dress was higher in the bodice and had sleeves that actually covered her shoulders.

  “I think you boys would like to try our special today,” she said, retrieving her pencil and jotting down on a small book of paper. “In light of today’s festivities, it’s called, The Lumberjack.” She snorted—and not the cute kind Eli had often heard come out of Hannah when she laughed.

  “I guess we’re having a lumberjack dinner.” Jonah closed up his menu and handed it to the woman with a polite smile.

  Eli doubted a restaurant like this had any idea how much lumberjacks ate or the quality of the food they were served, but he went along all-the-same.

  “The Lumberjack it is.”

  “You won’t be disappointed,” the waitress said. “Fresh cut steaks topped with bacon and grilled onions, a large baked potato—”

  “That sounds fine,” Eli interrupted. “Thank you.”

  “You feeling all right, my friend?” Jonah asked after the waitress turned on her heel and headed back for the kitchen.

  Thoughts of Hannah invaded his mind. He’d never so much as seen her trip over a pebble in the street, but today, he’d seen her falter more than once. It was one thing to run into her at a town jubilee, but would be quite another to be staying under the same roof with her and suddenly his gut twisted and tangled up inside of him.

  He gulped.

  “Fine.” He wished he had something to drink as his throat was suddenly feeling dry.

  “Thought you both might be a little thirsty after today’s events,” the waitress said as she set down two tall glasses of some of the clearest water Eli had ever seen.

  He looked up at her, feeling a little guilty at being so short with her earlier.

  “Comes in straight from the spring out back. Folks come for miles to try it,” the waitress said with pride. “Some even say that its water is healing.”

  “Much obliged, ma’am.”

  “Name’s Sheila.” She nodded. “Let me know if you boys need anything else while you wait.” She strode with purpose to the large table near the window where several men waited.

  Eli caught glimpse of the young man who had accompanied Hannah to the jubilee today. The only thing he knew about this Mr. Hollings is that he didn’t play fair.

  “I doubt Hannah will be seeing him again after today,” Jonah said as if reading his thoughts.

  Laughter erupted from the far table and Sheila smacked one of the men playfully on the arm before disappearing from the room. Eli clenched his jaw. Why was this man such a bother to him? He’d come across many in his line of profession with less than stellar ideals and attitudes, but there was just something about this Hollings fella that rubbed him the wrong way.

  It wasn’t long before Sheila was back, two large plates overflowing with food in her hands. As she set them down on the table, Eli’s focus returned to his empty belly, which groaned loudly at the smells wafting off his plate.

  He was impressed that the meal rivaled any cook had made back home.

  “Mrs. Wendell knows her way around a steak,” Sheila said with satisfaction. “Don’t know what this place is going to do without her.”

  “Wendell?” Eli asked. “Any relation to the owner of the sawmill?”

  “Yes,” the waitress responded, obviously pleased. “She’s his wife.”

  This information surprised Eli. His father had been adamant that his mother not take on any extra responsibilities outside of their home. He’d always said that a man wasn’t doing his job right if his woman was required to earn money to help provide. Maybe a mill in Kansas was just not as profitable as one in the Northwest with its abundance of forested lands.

  “Well,” Sheila said, her head bobbing, “aren’t you going to try it?”

  He wasn’t accustomed to people waiting around for him to eat. Of course, it wasn’t customary for him to take so long before digging in once the grub was placed in front of him either. He sawed off a small section of the steak, salivating as he brought the meat closer to his mouth. With one bite, he better understood the value of having Mrs. Wendell in the kitchen. It hit the spot and he quickly cut himself another chunk.

  “Now, that’s more like it,” Sheila said with a laugh. “Let me know if I can get you anything else. We have a wonderful apple pie just coming out of the oven.”

  While that would normally sound delightful, Eli had had his fill of pie earlier in the day.


  “Thank you, ma’am,” Jonah said once he stopped chewing. “Though I am sure it is delicious, I think we’re going to pass today. I can still taste that wonderful raspberry crumble from the contest this afternoon.” He echoed Eli’s sentiments.

  “All right, well, if you change your mind, just let me know.”

  “Will do,” Eli said without looking up, raising another bite of the succulent steak to his mouth.

  Sheila moved to the window and pulled back the curtain, waving to another young woman to join her.

  “Looks like Gordon Blythe is back in town,” she said dreamily, leaning up against the cushioned window seat.

  “Too bad that man’s sights are set on someone else,” the other woman mused. “Any girl would be lucky to have his attentions.”

  Eli stopped mid-chew.

  Gordon Blythe. The man Jonah had warned him had gained favor with Hannah.

  He glanced over at his travelling companion who hadn’t appeared to have heard any of the conversation as he shoveled another bite of potato into his mouth. It took a moment for Eli’s food to be chewed enough to swallow, but he then leaned to one side, following the gaze of the waitresses.

  A younger man, dressed in a fine suit and a Homburg hat, passed by the window, carrying a bunch of flowers tied with a single yellow ribbon as he walked down the center of the boardwalk.

  With a light smack to Jonah’s arm, Eli jutted his chin toward the window, but the man had already passed.

  “What was it?” Jonah asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with the cloth napkin and craning his neck enough to see over the women’s heads.

  “It looks like Hannah is being right well courted,” Eli said with a shake of his head. “And it’s not going to be by me.”

  “I told you, that Hollings fell—”

  “Gordon Blythe,” Eli said flatly.

  “Ah,” Jonah said with a spark of understanding. “Your replacement.” He nodded. “What about him?”

  “From the looks of it, he’s on his way to see Hannah now.”

  “Well,” Jonah said, sliding his chair back, then leaning down for the last bite of food on his plate, “we can beat him there.”