Accidental Courtship

by Lisa Bingham

  But what else could he do? The owners had given their orders and it was Jonah’s duty to follow through.

  Even when he didn’t like it.

  He considered pushing back against this latest edict. But he feared that the women would be the ones to pay the price of Batchwell’s ire. So he focused on the fact that, despite his own personal opinions, Batchwell did have the future of the mine at heart.

  Because spring would eventually come.

  The women would leave.

  And the men of Batchwell Bottoms would be left alone again.

  He sighed, plunging his hands into his coat pockets, striding blindly in the opposite direction that Batchwell had taken.

  Only a few weeks ago, the thought would have brought a wave of relief. But so many changes had come to Aspen Valley. There were wonderful smells in the air, curtains in the windows and the distant sound of laughter. Usually, winter was a dark, gloomy time for the miners. The days were shorter, the weather was harsh and the sun was usually hidden behind a layer of storm clouds.

  But this year, things were the same...but immeasurably different. The miners went about their business with a jauntiness to their steps. Rather than stomping from cook shack to mine to Devotional, they appeared to saunter, tipping their hats, offering casual greetings. With Christmas approaching, Jonah had even seen a few of them making tiny carved animals or intricate metal ornaments. Even Jonah had begun to frequent the wood shop more often, feeling a need to take a few hours’ break from the job to begin a project he intended to offer to Sumner.

  He came to a halt at the edge of the trees, unaware that his pace had increased to a near jog in his efforts to sort through his feelings. Somehow, he’d ended up a few hundred yards away from an old equipment warehouse that was tucked away from the mining camp in a meadow surrounded by tall stands of pines. Although the building was used from time to time, it was nearly empty now. Its location had proven to be too far away from the main buildings to be of much use except for long-term storage.

  His breath hung in the air like a silver cloud. He pounded his feet. Sometimes, when he exerted himself, they grew tingly and numb...

  “Jonah? You feeling okay?”

  He looked up to find Gideon Gault on horseback a few yards away.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Gault didn’t look entirely convinced. He swung from the saddle, leading his mount by the reins.

  “What’s up? You look ready to chew some iron and spit out nails.”

  Trust Gideon to sum up his thoughts in such a colorful manner.

  “Batchwell’s got his dander up again. He wants the women out of the hall and away from the main workings of the mine.”

  Gault whistled softly in commiseration. “I’ve never seen the man so riled by anything before. He’s always had a temper, but where those girls are concerned...” He followed the line of Jonah’s gaze. “Where does he want you to put them?”

  “He didn’t say, but...” Jonah pointed toward the two-story structure, a plan beginning to form. “What about the old equipment shed there? It’s nearly empty.”

  Gault squinted into the gloom. “I don’t know...it’s not in the best of shape.”

  “We’d have to reinforce the siding to keep out the cold, add more box heaters, put up some walls. The women would probably like a little area for cooking. Maybe another place for bathing. And if we put an addition onto that far end, we could even provide a place for Sumner to do her doctoring.”

  The thought made Jonah smile.

  Gideon chuckled softly. “If Ezra Batchwell caught wind of all the improvements, he’s bound to blow a gasket.”

  “True.” Jonah met his friend’s gaze. “But I don’t really care at this point. After everything the women have done for us, they deserve a nice place to stay. And judging from all the men I’ve seen hanging around the infirmary, I’m pretty sure we could get some volunteers who would be willing to help give a little something back.”

  Gideon nodded. “I don’t doubt that. They’ve even managed to charm my men.”

  “Which is why Batchwell also wants you to change your shifts.”

  “As it is, I’ve got more guys watching the women than our silver stores.”

  “Batchwell thinks the ones you’ve got are being too chummy. If you aren’t careful, he’ll probably pull you away from the mine and put you in charge of the women.”

  Gideon shook his head and held up his hands. “No. No, no, no. I was raised with five older sisters. The last thing I need is a day spent with anyone from the fairer sex. I’ll have a talk with my crew. Get them to tighten things up. But you’d better plead on my behalf if Batchwell threatens to put me on bride patrol.”

  “I could be persuaded. If...”

  “If?”

  “If you show up tomorrow, right here, after your shift, with a hammer, nails and at least six of your men.”

  * * *

  “So...all our patients have flown the coop, hmm?”

  Sumner looked up to find Iona standing in the doorway to the examination room.

  “Yes. They insisted that they were well enough to return to work.” She grimaced. “But I’m sure that a visit from Mr. Batchwell and Mr. Bottoms had more to do with it than my own doctoring skills.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps it had to do with the work itself. I heard Mr. Cowan grumbling that time was money and time spent off the job meant no money at all.”

  “Hmm. I can understand that line of thinking.”

  Even though Sumner would have insisted that the men take a few more days—or weeks—to allow bones to knit and bruises to fade, she knew more than anyone how the will to support oneself could shift one’s priorities.

  Iona’s gaze grew concerned. “I suppose your thoughts have wandered into similar territory?”

  Sumner nodded. “The time will come soon enough when I’ll be forced out of Bachelor Bottoms. Mr. Batchwell has been quite clear on that point. Even after showing him that I could handle an emergency situation, he remains...”

  “Obstinate.”

  “Yes.”

  “So what will you do?”

  Sumner shrugged. She wasn’t sure why she was being so forthcoming. Normally, she kept her problems to herself. But she was beginning to form strong friendships with so many of the women: Lydia, Willow and Iona in particular.

  “I should be establishing contingency plans, I know. I’m going to have to find a new position and a new home.”

  The thought caused an invisible hand to close around her heart. She’d grown to love this quaint mining community. How she would have loved to test her mettle here a little longer.

  But she couldn’t stay.

  As soon as spring came, she and the other women would be going.

  Iona entered the room and sat in the chair opposite Sumner’s desk.

  “We’re in much the same boat, you and I.” Iona smoothed a wrinkle from her all-encompassing work apron. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m not looking forward to the moment when spring arrives.”

  “Really? I thought you were originally planning on visiting your sister. Won’t you be living in her house?”

  Iona grimaced. “I don’t mind visiting my sister—we haven’t seen each other in ages. It’s living with her that’s the problem.”

  “Oh?”

  “She has a large family—nine children. Her husband’s a hard worker, bless his soul, but he and I tend to rub each other the wrong way. I know that they’re living hand to mouth—” she sighed “—and I’ll be another mouth to feed.” Her eyes grew sad. “I don’t relish becoming the object of charity.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Iona waved dismissingly. “Don’t be. We all have our trials.” Her lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. “If I were one of these mail-order brides—and I had a home of my own
awaiting me—I’d invite you to stay with me.”

  Sumner’s eye pricked with tears. The offer was so sweet.

  “Thank you, Iona.”

  “Do you have anyone you can go to for help? At least until you can get your feet back under you?”

  Sumner shook her head. “No.”

  She had no kin in the states or the territories. Worse, she had no real money left to pay for passage or even the means to search for another job.

  What was she going to do?

  So far, she’d spent countless hours on her knees, praying that the Lord would guide her in her decisions. She kept telling herself to have faith. Somehow, someway, the Lord would help her.

  Just keep the faith.

  Iona took a deep breath and stood.

  “Don’t give up. When the time comes, the Lord will provide.”

  Iona’s statement was so close to Sumner’s own thoughts that she felt a tiny spark of hope.

  “I think it’s time the two of us headed back to the hall. We’ll have a cup of Willow’s cocoa and gingerbread, then listen to the other women chatter. It will take our minds off our troubles.”

  “Yes. That sounds like a good idea.”

  Even so, at the door to the infirmary, she couldn’t help glancing behind her. This time, she’d left the supplies on their shelves and the linens and blankets folded neatly at the ends of the cots. She would never be so callous as to wish for another emergency, but she felt that if a need should arise for her doctoring skills, she would rather perform them in the proper setting.

  Straightening her shoulders, she twisted the key in the lock, then linked arms with Iona. The two of them walked slowly, enjoying the weak sun that tried to peek through the clouds. But as they reached the Miners’ Hall, a pair of Pinkertons carrying rifles snapped to attention on either side of the door.

  Since Mr. Batchwell’s visit, the “protection” detail had tightened their stranglehold. They were so rigorous in their duties that none of the women were allowed to leave the Miners’ Hall without prior authorization. Once they walked through the door, they were kept under guard with double the men watching them than they’d had before.

  “I don’t know whether to feel like I’m under house arrest or that I’m so precious I could be stolen from the streets,” Iona muttered under her breath. “If it weren’t for those sweet miners who still smile at us from across the cook shack counter, I’d begin to think I’d come down with leprosy or something.”

  Iona’s second comment was stated loud enough for the Pinkertons to hear her, and Sumner hid a smile when the two guards exchanged glances.

  “Come to think of it...” Sumner glanced around her at the sparkling snow, the mounded drifts and the empty boardwalks. “The camp has been strangely empty lately.” She leveled a narrowed gaze on the new guards. So far, they had refused to tell any of the women their names. Perhaps that was considered too personal.

  “Did Batchwell say something to them?” Iona demanded.

  Again, the men exchanged glances, but other than one of them saying, “It’s time to go inside, ladies,” they offered no explanation.

  She shot a glance to the guard at her left, then the one at her right. Neither of them bothered to look her in the eye. They gazed past her, as if expecting a hoard of thieves to appear at any moment.

  “Have you been forbidden to talk to us directly?” she asked.

  Nothing.

  Not even a flicker of an eyelid.

  Sighing, Sumner allowed her gaze to stray in the direction of the mining offices. By now, she’d determined that the upper left corner window was the one to Jonah’s office. There had been a time when she’d been able to see him standing there, his hands braced on the sill. She’d felt his gaze as she’d moved to the infirmary or the cook shack.

  But he had disappeared along with the other men.

  One of the Pinkertons reached to open the door to the hall. Iona stepped inside, but when Sumner moved to join her, she was stopped when a deep voice called out, “Whoa! Hold up there!”

  When she turned to find Jonah striding toward her, Sumner’s mood suddenly took wings.

  “She needs to come with me,” he said to the guards. “Dr. Havisham and I have some business to attend to before she rejoins the other ladies.”

  Jonah led her in the opposite direction. He waited until they were out of earshot before saying, “Walk with me?”

  She nodded, her heart thumping giddily against her ribs.

  “How have you been?”

  Sumner had been so afraid that he would return to the stern manner he’d used the first few days the women had come to the camp that the warmth of his tone took her by surprise.

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  “You’ve been working long hours at the infirmary.”

  “I can hardly call doing something I love ‘work.’”

  He frowned a little. Not in disapproval. More like...regret.

  “You’re good at what you do.”

  She couldn’t contain the flash of a smile. “Thank you. And how are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  This time, it was her turn to frown. He walked stiffly, which meant he was in pain.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure enough.”

  Sensing she would get no other answers for now, she didn’t pursue the matter. Later. When they weren’t out in the open where anyone could see.

  They walked in companionable silence, down the main street, past the infirmary, past the storehouse, past all of the established mining buildings, before taking one of the side streets. No, not really a street. More of a track that had been formed by the passage of horses, sleigh runners and boots.

  “Where are we going?” she finally asked.

  Jonah gestured to a point farther down the winding road. Although the track soon disappeared into the trees, she could just make out the corner of a large wooden structure.

  “I need to show you the equipment shed.”

  Equipment shed?

  Were there more foodstuffs there?

  Their shoes squeaked in the snow, and when Sumner slipped, Jonah grasped her arm. But even after she’d steadied herself, he maintained the gentle grip. That small point of contact warmed her far more than her heavy woolen greatcoat.

  “You’ve probably noticed that Mr. Batchwell has insisted that the Pinkertons be increased in size. He’s also stated that they are to be more...diligent in their duties.”

  “Yes. We figured he’d had a hand in the change.”

  “I know how...burdensome you find their presence.”

  “It feels as if we’ve committed a crime.”

  His head dipped. “I know and I’m sorry for that. But the owners are adamant. There’s to be no interaction between the women and the men beyond the cook shack and the evening Devotionals.”

  “So we’re doomed to stay indoors like naughty children again?”

  Jonah shook his head. “I’ve spoken to Mr. Batchwell and Mr. Bottoms, and I think I’ve been able to come up with a compromise that will suit you both.”

  They were rounding the trees now, and Sumner was able to see that the snow had been trampled down around the building. Ash and sawdust had been trodden into the ice, turning it a dingy gray.

  Sumner stopped in her tracks, unsure what huge compromise the cavernous building constituted.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “This will be your new home—the home of all the women—until the pass clears.”

  She blinked, taking in the roughly hewn wood and raw beams. The building had been designed for one single purpose, and that was to hold large pieces of machinery. But as a place of habitation?

  From the outside, it looked riddled with knotholes and wide chinks. Judging by its appearance, it hadn’t been constructe
d to keep out the weather. Its confines would be little better than the open air.

  Sumner opened her mouth to voice her objections, but before she could make a sound, Jonah squeezed her arm.

  “Don’t say anything yet. Wait until you look inside.”

  Sumner held her tongue as Jonah led her forward.

  “Out here in the meadow, you’re away from the main runnings of the mine, so you’ll have more freedom. As long as you don’t stray beyond the trees, you can venture outside, go on short walks, tend to your laundry needs from a huge fire pit behind the building.”

  “But we’re still to be...confined. No doubt under the Pinkertons’ watchful eyes.”

  “They’ll be farther back, out of your sight.”

  “But—”

  He squeezed her arm again. “I told you it was a compromise. That implies some give-and-take from both sides.”

  So she would have to hold her tongue.

  At least until she could see inside and gather more ammunition for her arguments.

  Jonah reached out to open the door, swinging it wide.

  “My crew and I have been working on this for about a week now.”

  “Your crew.”

  “I pulled some men off the line to get things in order.”

  Sumner knew enough about Jonah’s work habits to know that such an action wasn’t taken lightly.

  “Did the men object?”

  “No. Most of them volunteered.”

  His fingers touched her back as he ushered her inside.

  The moment the door closed, Sumner was washed in warmth, disproving her earlier assumption that the structure would be cold and drafty.

  Slowly, her eyes adjusted from the brilliant sunshine outside to the dimness inside. When they did, she was able to see that she’d been led into a large sitting room complete with two potbellied stoves, a long trestle table and chairs for eating their meals and myriad rockers and easy chairs.