by Paty Jager
She glanced at him. He flashed a roguish smile, and a jolt of heat scorched her body. His dark eyes devoured her. How could she pretend she felt nothing for him when his gaze set her traitorous body on fire?
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it. We’ve got plenty of time to discuss when you’re going to come around and marry me.”
“I don’t think this trip will be quite that long.”
He chuckled and she twisted away from him, staring at the pine-covered hills on either side of the valley they followed. The Halsey claim was northeast of Sumpter, a small community an hour’s ride from McEwen. It would take the remainder of the day to travel to the mine, visit, and return her to the boarding house.
The higher elevation kept the air crisp most of the year. The early summer sun warmed her back and coaxed delicate, yellow buttercups to pop up among the tender spring grass.
Maeve breathed in the heavy pine scent. The tangy aroma brought back memories of a time when her father took her out far from town and taught her how to use a gun. That day was one of the few times she held dear to her. They shared a packed lunch, and he told her to never be afraid to use a gun. Some day it could be the difference between her walking this earth or leaving it.
Wiping at a tear, she stared at the trees as they lumbered past. She never saw her father again after that day. Why did you leave us, Daddy?
“We’re almost there.” Zeke’s strong hand rubbed her back. Maeve wiped at the tears and replaced the sadness with the anger she’d harbored the last ten years. Back in control, she placed her knees forward and watched the road they followed.
Only another mile or so and they’d be at the Halsey mine. Zeke had brought her here one time before. He constantly told her he wasn’t a miner. That he only helped his brothers now and then. But it would take more than his words to make her believe he wasn’t lured by the earth’s treasures just like her no-good pa.
She’d spent a life time concealing the anger and pain that engulfed her on that cold winter morning when she and her mother had been evicted from their home. The only home she’d ever known. No one would know the agony she lived growing up believing her father never cared for her one minute and blaming herself for his disappearance the next.
“Hello!” A deep voice shouted.
She shook off the memory. Ethan, Zeke’s oldest brother stood by a sluice box waving. A cabin nestled in pine trees a distance up the slope from the sluice box and clear stream. Farther upstream, a small shack sat beside two more sluice boxes. Mining paraphernalia leaned against the building. Between the two buildings sat a small barn.
Zeke tugged on the reins, stopping the matched horses pulling the wagon. He scrambled down from the wagon and around to her side before she had her skirt out of the way enough to step down on her own.
The dark, mischievous eyes smiling up at her broke Maeve’s resolve to stay aloof. How was she to think of him as a cousin when he looked at her that way? Blast his hide. He grasped her around the waist, lifting her down like a child.
She swat at his hands when they remained at her waist. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat as he faced Ethan.
“You got a minute to discuss something with Maeve and I?” he asked his brother, clasping her hand and leading her to the cabin.
“Yeah, Clay and Hank are off hunting.” Ethan lifted his hat and wiped at the perspiration on his forehead.
She’d met all the brothers—even the married one, Gil, and his waif of a wife. All had the same chestnut hair, dark eyes, and strong stature. She found Ethan a rather intimidating figure. He was the oldest, the largest in height and breadth, and the one who could make them all take a step back when he roared an order. She’d also seen him nurse a young colt with the gentleness of a mother. He was a contradictory man, just like the one holding her hand.
They all entered the small cabin. A fireplace sat across from the door. A potbellied stove stood to the side of the cold hearth. Bunks lined the two sides of the building and a long, family-sized table filled the middle.
“Coffee?” Ethan plucked the pot from the potbelly stove.
“Not now,” Zeke said, pulling out a chair for her.
“No, thank you.” Maeve slid onto the chair and placed the tintype on the table.
Ethan sat down and picked up the replica of his parents. “How’d you get this?” he asked, raising his gaze from the tintype to her face.
“I took it to show Maeve what kind of people I came from.” Zeke winked at her. “To help persuade her to think about marrying me.”
Ethan exploded with laughter. “Brother, it would take more than a photo of our parents to make any woman want to be chained to you.”
“Hey! I don’t see women swarming around you!” Zeke grabbed the tintype and placed it on the table.
“Gentlemen,” Maeve interrupted, “we came here for answers not a confrontation.”
“What answers?” Ethan perched his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his clasped hands. His dark eyes searched her face. That was one of the reasons she refused Zeke’s invites to the mine. His oldest brother seemed to see right inside a person. It unnerved her. The first time she visited he knew she didn’t want anything to do with miners.
Clearing her throat, she proceeded. “I believe we are related.”
Her proclamation wasn’t laughed at. Ethan just continued to stare at her.
“How so?”
“She says her pa had this same tintype and that our pa was his brother.” Zeke captured her hand on top of the table and squeezed. The gesture comforted and agitated her at the same time. She needed answers and support for which way her feelings should sway toward the man.
“So you think you’re cousins?” Ethan looked directly at her. “That would be convenient.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. How did he know her feelings? Did Zeke talk to him about her? Her face flushed with heat.
Zeke nodded his head. “Maeve thinks we’re cousins and therefore shouldn’t share the kind of feelings we do.” He winked at her again and squeezed the hand he held. “But I say there has to be some kind of misunderstanding. Pa didn’t have a brother, right?”
“As far as I know, Pa didn’t have any brother that lived long enough to have a child.” Ethan scratched his head. “But why would he say such a thing? Your father I mean.”
“I wasn’t hearing things. I remember thinking, how great it would be to meet family. When I asked if we would ever see them, he got a strange look on his face and said we couldn’t.” She glanced at the two men as resentment toward her father re-emerged. “Why do you think he would say a thing like that?”
“Because he didn’t know who the people were in the tintype and made up a story. To have you meet them would prove him a liar.” She heard derision in Zeke’s voice.
Maeve didn’t know why she cared, but he couldn’t talk like that about her pa. She jerked her hand out from under his. “How do you know he lied? Maybe it was your pa who lied about having relatives.” She may loathe her father but no one else could scorn him.
Zeke held up his hands. “I wasn’t being disrespectful, just stating a thought.”
“Zeke said your ma is still alive.” Ethan pulled her glare from his brother.
“Yes. She lives in Baker City with her sister.”
“Maybe you should take this tintype to her and see what she has to say.” Ethan pushed the picture across the table.
“That’s a great idea.” Zeke stood. “Come on. I’ll get you back to the boarding house. We’ll head for Baker City first thing tomorrow morning.”
“But I have school to teach.” She stood, pocketing the tintype in her skirt.
“Can’t you find someone to take over for the day or close the school?” Zeke couldn’t help but smile when she gave him that schoolmarm look.
“No, I can’t close the school because I want to take a trip to Baker City. What kind of an example would that make?” She scowled at him and turned on her heel.
He waggled his eyebrows at Ethan and followed her outside.
“Seems to me Mrs. White taught school before she married. Why don’t you ask her to fill in for a couple days?” He caught up to Maeve before she climbed onto the wagon seat.
He grasped her waist to help her up.
“Let go of me,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Why are you treating me like I’ve got a disease? Even if we find out we’re cousins, I don’t deserve to be cast aside like a two-legged pup.” He dropped his hands and waited for her to slide over so he could climb up.
“Those our supplies?” Ethan asked, walking up to the wagon.
“Yeah. Hop in back. I’ll drive down to the mine, and you can help unload it.”
The wagon settled with Ethan’s weight, and Zeke clucked to the horses. He’d felt Maeve stiffen when he said they were headed to the mine. Her feelings toward mines and miners didn’t make any sense. One of these days he would sway her mind.
While they unloaded the supplies, she sat straight as an arrow on the seat. He knew she held little regard for her father who mined and left her and her mother destitute, but he wondered at her quick defense of the man. There was more to their history than she’d told him. He hoped her mother could shed more light on her father and the past Maeve used as a shield.
Chapter 2
Zeke tossed the reins of the horses around the hitching post in front of the boarding house. He still couldn’t believe how hard it had been to convince Maeve to ask Mrs. White to fill in as teacher for a couple of days. They needed the one day to get to Baker City and one to travel back to McEwen. He hoped Maeve’s aunt had room at her house to keep her niece overnight.
The sun barely peeked over the tree tops. Zeke looked up at the light shining in Maeve’s room. She was awake and hopefully dressed. The sooner they headed out, the sooner they’d have some answers.
He climbed the three steps and raised his hand to knock. The door swung open. A beaming Mrs. White ushered him in.
“Maeve said you’d be here bright and early.” The woman bustled around with extra energy. “I can’t remember when I was so excited to greet a day!”
Zeke followed the woman down the hall to the kitchen. The room smelled of bread, coffee, and bacon. The warmth was welcome after catching and saddling the horses in the predawn chill.
“Here you are.” Mrs. White set a plate of food and coffee on the table. “Sit. Maeve already ate and will be down in just a minute.”
“Thanks. I figured I wouldn’t get anything in my belly until we stopped midday.” He never turned down food. Something his brothers kidded him about all the time. He placed bacon between two pieces of bread and took a big bite, enjoying every chew.
The clomp of boots coming down the hall swung his attention from the food to the door. Maeve walked through, and he about choked on the bacon in his mouth.
She wore a calico blouse, dark split riding skirt, and a Stetson that hid half her face. Scuffed boots encased her feet. A single holster with a pearl-handled pistol hung against her left hip. She had the look of a woman who felt comfortable in the outfit.
“Why haven’t I seen you wear this before?” He stood. The outlaw look appealed to him. He liked a woman with spit, hence the reason he’d been courting the feisty woman for a year.
“It isn’t your normal school teacher attire.” The grit in her voice made him wonder how often she dressed like this and why.
“Maybe not, but it looks good on you.” He crossed the room. The desire to take her in his arms and show her his approval drove him forward, but she turned and headed down the hall.
“Ready?” she asked, pulling on gloves.
He stamped down his need and grinned. Waving to Mrs. White, he followed Maeve down the hall and out the door. Once they were outside, she didn’t waste any time mounting a horse. She grabbed the horn, swinging up on its back as if she rode astride every day.
Why didn’t I think of a trip like this sooner? Zeke mounted his horse and followed the feisty school teacher out of town. He would learn more about Maeve Loman from this two day trip to Baker City than he’d learned over the past year.
They trotted the horses out of town and into the valley they would follow all the way to Baker City. Zeke let her take the lead. He didn’t mind riding behind, watching her stiffly held body sway with the horse. Maybe on this trip, he’d finally get a glimpse of the not-so-prim-and-proper school teacher she hid behind.
He kneed his horse up alongside her gelding. “Any chance you know how to use that pretty gun you have hanging from your hip?” He said it in jest, but realized his error when she turned a narrowed blue gaze on him.
“It just so happens, my father taught me one thing before he left us.” She drew the pistol from her holster, leveled it, and cocked the hammer with her thumb. Glancing at him, a sly, crooked smile tipped her lips. She squeezed the trigger.
Peering past the spiral of smoke at the end of the pistol, he watched a pine cone topple off a limb.
She rode over to the pine cone, dismounted, and handed it to him.
He whistled and stared at the hole in the middle. “Not bad. You can watch my back any time.”
Her dark eyebrows arched, and her mouth opened slightly.
Zeke wanted to lean down and kiss her.
When she found her voice, she asked, “You don’t care I can outshoot most men?”
“As long as you don’t use that gun on me, you can outshoot anyone you want.” He couldn’t keep from laughing. She expected him to be insulted because she was a better shot than him. She obviously hadn’t been studying him like he studied her.
“I don’t understand you. Most men would have a conniption if a woman shot better than them.” She mounted her horse.
“Any man worth his salt knows his weaknesses and doesn’t begrudge someone else who is better.” He shook his head. “And sweetheart, you’re better with a pistol than I am.” He nudged his horse up alongside hers.
He caught her behind the neck with one hand and leaned in, capturing her lips before she could move away. Dang, she tasted good. When he felt the horses moving apart, he let her go. Her eyes remained closed, and she licked her lips. The quick rise and fall of her chest, made him grin. She could deny her feelings all she wanted, but he knew how he affected her, and he’d keep on plying her with kisses until she realized he wasn’t going anywhere.
Zeke cleared his throat. “How come after all your talk about your pa being a no-good miner, you stuck up for him yesterday?” This was sure to change her disposition, but he’d been thinking on it all night and couldn’t figure out her change of heart.
Her eyes snapped open. The glint in them told him her mood had definitely changed.
“Why does it matter?” She started to jab her horse in the ribs. He caught the reins, holding her still. Her eyes flared with anger.
“Sweetheart, you have said nothin’ good about your pa since I met you. Yet, when I called him a liar, you bristled up and defended him.”
Maeve took a deep breath, letting the anger and air hiss out between her teeth. She should have known Zeke would call her on this. His quick mind had drawn her to him in the first place.
“I imagine there are times you say unflattering things about your brothers, yet if someone else were to say it, you’d jump all over them. It’s the same for me.” She twisted in the saddle, peering into his shaded face to see if he understood.
“So, even though you’ve called your pa every name a respectable school teacher would use, you don’t want anyone else doing it. You are one contrary female.”
She wanted to wipe that blasted grin off his too-handsome face. “I have pretty good reasons for calling him names, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few kind thoughts about him.”
“Yeah, like what? All you’ve ever mentioned was how he left you and your ma to hunt for riches.” His good humor turned to curiosity.
She turned her horse and started at a walk down the
road to Baker City. “I remember when I was small, he took me fishing. We talked about how he planned to do more of that once we had a big house, and he didn’t have to travel anymore.”
“If you lived in this area, how come he traveled to find a gold mine?” There was that quick mind of his.
“We didn’t live in this area. My mother and I moved here when I applied for the teaching job.” She delved back through her memories. “I don’t know where we lived when he took me fishing. I remember riding on a train at one point…” She hadn’t really tried to remember the past. Most of it was too painful to keep in her memory.
“So when did you move out here? The train from the East didn’t get to these parts until eighty-four.” Zeke kept his horse even with hers. His frown and thoughtful expression meant he was calculating something.
“We lived in Oregon City until I started school.” She would never miss all the rain. This area suited her.
“Were you born there?”
Maeve thought hard. “I don’t know. I’ve never asked where I was born, never thought much about it.”
“Well, it’s something we need to ask your ma when we sit down and talk with her.” He pulled his hat down over his eyes and set out at a trot.
She had a feeling he’d come up with more questions than her mother had answers.
****
Zeke glanced up at the sun. The yellow globe cast shadows directly under them. He’d stopped beside a lake to rest the horses and snack on the jerky and hardtack he’d packed.
He dismounted and waited for Maeve to do the same as he pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle out of his saddlebag. He handed the food to Maeve and led the two horses to the edge of the lake. Kneeling, he scooped water into his hands. His fingers numbed quickly from the first snow melt of the spring. He felt Maeve’s presence before he heard her footsteps and breathing. She knelt beside him and scooped water.