Thurston House

by Danielle Steel

  “How do you know that?” Dan had only left the night before.

  He was honest with her. “I hired him today. He’s a good man.”

  She smiled scornfully. “At least he won’t lay a hand on you.” There was a sudden silence between them and a look of instant fire in his eyes.

  “He did that?”

  She hesitated and then nodded her head. There was no reason to protect him now, and she knew John Harte wouldn’t do the same thing. He wasn’t that kind of man, and besides, he had the Indian girl. “Yes, he did. Fortunately, he came to his senses in time.”

  John Harte shook his head, and covered his eyes before looking at her again. “If you were my daughter, I’d kill him for that.”

  She smiled gratefully and then remembered who he was. “Well, I’m not, and my father’s dead, and it sounds like you have a new foreman at your mine, Mr. Harte.” She was hardened to everyone now. And she stood up and held out a hand. She didn’t want to hear any more. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, and your interest in our mines. If I ever decide to sell, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” He looked deep into her eyes. He meant every word that he said. “It’ll break your heart, and eat up your whole life.” She wondered if that was what it had done to him, and he sounded like a sad man. But that wasn’t her problem, and she had plenty of her own.

  “Don’t come here again to see me, Mr. Harte. You have no business here.” She didn’t want to be rude to him, but she didn’t want him visiting her at her mines again. She still remembered his visit to pay his respects to her father the week before … was it only a week? … it was difficult to believe as she looked at him now. “My mines are not for sale, and won’t be for a long, long time.”

  “You’re giving up marriage and a family then.” He was pushing her hard and she wanted him gone.

  “That is not your concern.” Her eyes flashed at him.

  “You can’t do both, you know.”

  “I’ll do what I damn please!” Her voice suddenly lashed out at him and she came around the desk. “Now get the hell out of here, Harte!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He doffed his hat at her and strolled slowly toward the door. He had to give her credit for the guts she had, but he still thought she was dead wrong, and he was sorry she wasn’t willing to sell the mine to him. He would have liked to incorporate the Thurston mines with his own. But the one thing that bothered him most was what she had told him about Dan … “At least he won’t lay a hand on you” … had he tried to rape her then? The damn fool … he would have to warn Spring Moon about him. He didn’t want the man anywhere near her, but he didn’t even like the idea of him “laying a hand” on Sabrina Thurston, as it were. It was desperately unfair to take advantage of the girl, as crazy and headstrong as she was to take on her father’s mines, and when he went back to his own office that afternoon, he was particularly harsh with Dan, much to his new employee’s surprise. He couldn’t imagine what he had done so soon to incur his new employer’s wrath. The truth was that it was a bitch working for anyone, and it tightened his guts just thinking about Sabrina again. If it weren’t for her, he would have been running the Thurston mines.

  John Harte wanted to tell him to never go near Sabrina again, but he didn’t want to tell him he knew what had gone on. Instead, he just warned Spring Moon and she laughed at him.

  “I’m not afraid of him, John Harte.” She always called him that, and usually it made him smile, but not this time.

  “Look, dammit, listen to what I say. He’s got a pale, ugly wife, and a houseful of kids … maybe he’s hungry for a tender little morsel like you. I don’t know who or what the man is. All I know is that he worked hard at the Thurston mines for the past twenty-three years, but I don’t want him giving you any trouble. Is that clear? Watch out for him, Spring Moon.”

  “I’m not afraid.” She smiled, and with a single gesture, a long sharp knife fell from her sleeve and she wielded it so quickly that one could barely see the blade, and this time John Harte grinned.

  “Sometimes I forget how cunning you are, pretty one.” He kissed her on the neck and went back to work, but he wasn’t thinking of his mistress when he did. He was thinking of the girl, who was almost a child, attempting to run her father’s mines, with barely a skeleton crew of men, and he was almost sorry he couldn’t lend her a hand. But that wasn’t the plan he had in mind. Dan and he had already discussed it more than once. He was going to sit back, let her fail, and then buy her out, and they both knew it wouldn’t take long, no matter how much she thought she knew about her father’s mines. She was still only a girl.

  * * *

  And two weeks later, watching the men work in one of the shafts, she turned eighteen. She had given them the promised raise, and still they seldom, if ever, spoke to her. The two smaller mines were closed, and she was running the main mine at full power, and she had promoted one of the newer men as her new foreman to replace Dan. He wasn’t any fonder of her than the others were, but he liked the pay, and she liked that about him. She played him like a violin, promising him raises that made him drool, if he could recruit new men for her so that she could open the number two mine again. And by November of that year she did, just in time to have it flood and kill five of her new men. But she was there in the pouring rain, helping to dig them out, and it was she who knelt beside them and closed their eyes, she who rode soaking wet and bone tired to tell their wives, she who helped bury them as her father had done, and she who opened the third mine in the spring. It had taken her a year to recover from the blow of losing more than three hundred men, but they were working at full force and full profit again. It made Dan Richfield sick every time he thought of it.

  “You have to hand it to her, Dan. She’s as tough as her old man and twice as smart.” John Harte could barely believe what she’d done.

  “Little whore …” He said nothing more as he slammed out of the room, and Harte watched him go. He had learned a lot in twenty-three years at the Thurston mines, but there was nothing decent or likable about him, and John was surprised Thurston had kept him on for so long. Perhaps he had guarded his tongue more in those days. He had had a profitable end in mind, which no longer mattered now. But John Harte thought of it again and he approached Sabrina for the second time.

  He walked into her office one day, and took her totally by surprise. For the last year, she hadn’t even thought of him, and she was proud of what she had done at her father’s mine. She knew the men weren’t fond of her, and probably never would be, but they worked hard for her and the pay they earned.

  “Did you come to shake my hand, Mr. Harte, or to work in my mines?” Her eyes laughed at him as he approached her desk.

  “Neither one. I’m bolder than that. Not unlike you.” He admired her more than she knew, and he saw that she was pleased with herself. She had a right to be. The war wasn’t over yet, but the first battle was won. The mine was at full strength again, though whether or not she could keep it that way was another thing. He doubted that, and so did Dan, and perhaps he was wrong to return to her so soon. He could wait until she began to fail, but he didn’t want to now. He had a plan to expand that year, and it included buying at least one of her mines from her, perhaps two. “You can spare that. Sell me the smallest one.”

  She looked at him like a snake ready to strike. “No. Not one. Nothing. On the other hand,” she smiled carefully, “I would be happy to buy yours, Mr. Harte.” She had just turned nineteen and she looked far more womanly now. It had been a long, arduous year for her, and it was still a fight every day, and there was no one to make it easy for her. “I’d be happy to buy your mine, Mr. Harte. Have you considered that?”

  He smiled at the sheer nerve of her. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then we’ve reached a stalemate again, haven’t we?”

  “You’re a stubborn little cuss. Were you like that when your father was alive?”

  “I suppose I was.�
� She smiled, thinking back to only a year before, which seemed like a lifetime ago. “Maybe I didn’t have as much reason to be.” She had fought for her own survival every day for the past year, and no one had supported her. When she went home at night, she had to listen to Hannah berating her. She almost hated to go home now, but she didn’t have the heart to send Hannah away after all these years, so she stayed late at the mine every night, and she had lost a great deal of weight. Even John Harte noticed it, but he said nothing of it to her. He just felt sorry for her. She would have been wiser to sell out to him.

  “I’m sorry you won’t reconsider this year.”

  “I told you. I never will. The Thurston mines will be put up for sale when I die, and not before, Mr. Harte. Of course, if I say that loud enough, I’m sure there will be plenty of people who’d be happy to oblige you.” It was a sad thing to say, but she meant every word of it. She had no friends here, a few who were coming to respect her perhaps, but still too few. She had more than five hundred men working there again, but only a handful who cared if she lived or died, they were the ones who had worked with her in the flood, or seen her do her damnedest in the mines herself, trying to learn every aspect of what they all did. But they had no real love for her, not as they had had for Jeremiah only a year or two before. She looked at John Harte with few illusions now. She had grown up. And he thought she had paid a high price for it. He felt sorry for her. He held out a hand and she shook his, but there was no warmth in her eyes for him. Too many people had hurt her in the past year, too many people had tried to do her harm, starting with Dan. Harte wasn’t all that pleased with him himself. Dan’s wife had died in childbirth the year before. And ever since, he had been out carousing every night, leaving his nest of children hungry and filthy and ill clad, and John had warned Spring Moon again, but she had only laughed and flashed her knife at him.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” And then as he hesitated before he left, “I can’t help thinking you’d be better off without the burden of this,” but to her it only sounded like another smooth line to relieve her of her mines and he saw her glance at the door with a tired look. “I understand.” She almost wondered if he did, but he couldn’t possibly. He couldn’t know how desperately she would fight to keep it all. She would never let the mines go. Never.

  The vineyards were thriving as well and she had joined the winemakers’ cooperative in the past year, and she was determined to help them better their lot and improve their wines, and here again she was barely tolerated by the men involved. But she was used to it by now. She was used to being unwelcome everywhere, to being seldom spoken to, to being shunned and abused, to being the first one the other owners spent their fury on, but she gave it back to them when she needed to. She had developed a handsome temper in the past year, born of constantly being under stress, and John Harte saw that in her face now, and he thought her even more beautiful than the year before. There was something about her that made him want to take her in his arms. But that made no sense at all. She was a woman who wanted no help from anyone. She would climb the mountain alone, and one day she would sit there by herself. That made him sad for her, and in a way, she had chosen the same fate that he himself and her father had. Neither he nor Jeremiah had ever chosen to marry again, they had run their mines alone. He with Spring Moon at his side, his Indian squaw, and Jeremiah with his child, but she had no one at all. The thought pained him as he rode back to his mine, thinking of her, but Sabrina wasted no thought on him, she had work to do. She seldom allowed herself random thoughts these days. Her life was a constant fight just to survive, and it wasn’t an accident that she had reopened the two defunct mines again, she had done it with hard work, and endless hours, long nights at work, and months and months of sweat.

  And now she was working just as hard to force the business to grow. She had just sold seven hundred flasks to a firm in the East, and she had promised the men a bonus when the flasks were shipped. She knew how her father had operated the mines, there was no secret to how he had operated it, and in keeping with his philosophy she shared some of her profits with her men if they worked hard. And if they didn’t like her, they knew at least that she was decent with them. That was all they asked, and all she asked in return, but it wasn’t always what she got, although she expected more now. And if any man wasn’t civil with her, he was out of a job within the hour, if it took that long. She could afford to be harder with them and they respected her for it.

  “She’s still a bitch, snotty little thing.” Dan Richfield was shooting off his mouth in a bar one night with some of her men when John Harte walked in, and Dan didn’t see him as he stood at the end of the bar. “She thinks if she wears pants for long enough, she’ll grow a dick.” The men laughed and John Harte spoke up quietly from the end of the bar.

  “Was that what you were looking for when you tried to rape her last year?” There was a sudden silence and Dan went pale and wheeled around, shocked to see his boss, and even more so to realize that Harte knew he had almost done.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t think you should be talking about Sabrina Thurston like that. She works as hard as the rest of us, and these men still work for her, unless I’m wrong.” Suddenly, one or two of them looked ashamed. John Harte was no friend of hers, but he was right. She did work damn hard, you had to give her credit for that. The men shuffled off and Dan Richfield stayed, his eyes blazing, his fists itching to lash out, but he didn’t dare, instead he drank his whiskey with a surly look at John, but it was Sabrina he wanted to get his hands on. She had ruined all his dreams. And now that his wife was gone, he could have used a piece like her. It burned him for days, especially thinking about what she might have told John, and late the following Monday night, drinking at the same bar, he decided to ride past the Thurston mines, and he stopped when he saw Sabrina’s horse there. It was nine o’clock at night, and he figured she must have left him there. He stopped, and tied up his own mount, walked slowly up the steps, and was startled to see her there. He looked through the window, and saw her at her desk, head bowed, her dark hair pulled back, her pen flying as she wrote. She was there until almost midnight every night, and it was still early for her. He suddenly grinned as he saw her, and he didn’t realize it, but he had come back to finish what he had left undone the year before when she’d fired him. But as he walked across the porch, a board creaked, and without lifting her head, she pulled open the desk drawer, and had the small pistol in her hand before he reached the door, and her first shot flew through the windowpane and whizzed past his arm as he stood transfixed with shock, staring at her as she quietly looked up and spoke out loud enough for him to hear.

  “You come through that door, and you’re a dead man, Dan.” And he could tell she meant every word. She didn’t look surprised or afraid. She was prepared for anything now, and she wasn’t afraid of him. She stood up and leveled the gun at his head, and without saying a word, he turned and walked away. She rang the bell for one of the watchmen then. They were assigned to guard the mines, she had no real need of them where she worked, but she called for them now to check the grounds and make sure that Dan was nowhere around.

  And the next day she sent a warning to John Harte, suggesting that he keep better control over his men. If she found one on her grounds again, she would assume he was sent by Harte himself to harass her into selling her mines and she would kill him on the spot. She informed Harte that she had chosen to spare Richfield this time, but she wouldn’t again. And he was not pleased to learn that Dan was bothering her again. He warned him of it that day and Richfield’s jaw clenched as Harte spoke, but he said not a single word. And afterward, John laughed to himself. She was not unlike Spring Moon, so sure of her trusty blade, and apparently Sabrina had a fine hand with a gun. He was only sorry she had a need for it, but she lived in a man’s world. And John Harte did not make her another offer that year.

  23

  “Well, girl, you’re twenty-o
ne, what you gonna do now?” Hannah looked at her over the cake she had baked and she wanted to cry as she saw Sabrina’s face. She had grown into womanhood now, and she was a beautiful girl, but she was as hard as rock. She ran a mine complex of nearly six hundred men and she had stepped into her daddy’s shoes, but for what? She had been rich enough before, and now she led a lonely life, working till midnight every night, ordering her men around, firing them on the spot if they got out of line. So what? She was losing her gentle ways and Hannah suspected that it was destroying her. Amelia had said as much when she had come to visit the previous year, but she had also realized that there was no changing her mind, and she had told Hannah to back off and give her time. “She’ll grow tired of it in time,” the wise woman had smiled, “perhaps she’ll fall in love.” But with what? Her horse? She was already in love with her work, and when she wasn’t killing herself at the mines, she was at the vineyard co-op fighting with another group of men.