by Paty Jager
Her breath caught and she swallowed. “A-and you? How old are you?”
“Thirty-one.”
“Oh. That’s how old Karl is. He’s cranky as an old bear he wants a wife so bad.” She tipped her head to the side and watched him. “Is not having a wife what makes you so cranky about me working in the woods?”
Hank snorted and dropped her hand. Leave it to her to think everything was about her being in the woods. “No I’m not cranky about you working in the woods because I want a wife. I happen to like not having a wife. It gives me the freedom to do what I want.” He stared into her eyes. “I’m too busy for a family.”
She shook her head. “Karl is busy too, and that’s all he thinks about. Do you think some men just need a woman?”
If not for the innocence shining in her eyes, he would have thought she was hunting for a way to get intimate with him. And darned if he didn’t want to push her just a little.
“Do you mean they need a woman in their bed?”
Her intake of breath told him what he wanted to know. While she may live and work with men, her family had kept her from anything sordid.
“No! I meant to cook, clean, be company, and raise their family.” Her cheeks tinged a deeper pink, and she tucked her hands deeper into her lap.
Hank felt a tiny bit of regret for his words, but this woman had a way of making him want to best her. “Where do you think that family the woman cares for comes from?” He knew pressing into this line of talk would have him standing in the cold before he could sleep, but he wanted to know her views.
Her face deepened in color, and her gaze dipped to her hands. “I know about making babies. I just…” Her gaze sought his. “I think sometimes people are just so lonely they settle.”
Hank peered into her solemn eyes. “Would you?”
She shook her head. “I know there are few men who would be comfortable having a wife the size of me who works in the woods. But I’d rather be lonely than live with someone who didn’t look at me the way Far looks at Mor.”
He knew that look. It was the way light sparkled in his brothers’ eyes when they spotted their wives. He nodded. There were times it was painful to watch the happiness his brothers found. But he had plans, and a wife didn’t fit in them. Hank focused on Kelda’s face. The innocent, wistful smile curving her lips sliced heat through his body and corralled it in his crotch area.
He stood and walked to the wood box to put distance between them.
“Why do you want to work in the woods?” she asked.
Her change of subject was welcome. The stove door creaked, and Hank shoved a log into the potbellied stove. The clank of metal on metal rang through the small area as he gathered what he wanted to say together in his head.
Hank sat on the stool and stared at the dull black stove. “I’ve always been fascinated with anything made from wood. Furniture, houses, tools, utensils, toys. The list goes on. Then to stand in the forest and peer up a tree…I just like the idea of being a part of something that affects so many lives.”
“You could make the furniture or toys.” Kelda leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, and watched Hank.
“I want to be a part of the process of harvesting the wood. To pick the right tree and leave behind smaller trees to grow and be harvested later. I want to treat logging like farming. I’ve seen mountainsides where all the trees are cut. The ground washes away if there’s a strong rain and there is nothing left for the owner to continue making money.”
“Far doesn’t allow the men to cut down every tree. We only take ones of certain circumference.” She’d witnessed the mountain sides Hank talked about.
“I know. I asked around and learned your family does the kind of logging I’ve thought about.” His gaze left the stove and peered into her eyes. “I want our property to keep on supplying Halsey’s with a living for many more years.”
“Are your brothers farmers?” She’d learned very little about his family from Far or her brothers. He didn’t talk much about them or her family didn’t feel she needed to know.
“No. Ethan and Clay run the stamp mill and mine.”
She scrunched her forehead. “What’s a stamp mill?”
“The rock we take from the mine is crushed at the stamp mill helping us extract more gold and silver from the rock and mine.”
“That sounds like hard work.” No wonder his body was as well-defined as her brothers.
“It can be. We also take in other miner’s rock and crush it for them for a percentage.”
“You said you had four brothers. What do the other two do?”
“Gil is the marshal of Galena. Zeke and his wife are Pinkerton detectives.”
Kelda inhaled. She’d read about the Pinkerton’s in the newspaper. “How did they become Pinkertons?”
Boisterous singing erupted outside and grew in volume as it drew closer.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time. It sounds like your brothers are coming this direction.” Hank slipped two coffee cups from pegs behind the stove and filled them, handing one to Kelda.
She took the offered drink and sipped.
The door burst open. Tobias had his arms slung around Dag and Karl’s shoulders. The three were grinning like small boys with toads in their pockets.
Hank set his cup down and opened the door to the room with Tobias’s cot. Her brothers disappeared into the room. Whispering and giggles floated back to them.
“I think Tobias will not be feeling well tomorrow,” Kelda said, holding back a snicker.
“It doesn’t appear that he will.” Hank sat back down at the stool and took a sip of his coffee.
Two loud thunks, a groan, and a creak came from the room before Dag and Karl lumbered back into the office.
“He’s not feeling well,” Karl said, using the counter to lean against. Dag leaned next to him, grinning like an idiot.
Kelda tried to keep from laughing at the sight of her inebriated brothers, but their goofy smiles and rolling eyes tickled her insides. A laugh burst out. She held her hand in front of her mouth to try and stop the onslaught of mirth but she couldn’t.
“What’r you laughing at?” Karl asked, taking a step toward her and swaying.
“You two. I’ve never seen two sillier looking creatures in my life.” Kelda knew her brothers drank more than they should on several occasions throughout the year, but she usually disappeared to her area in the storeroom and didn’t see the outcome.
“Silly? We’ll show you silly, little sister.” Dag moved fast for someone who moments before used the counter to hold him up. His arm snaked around Kelda. He planted a foot on the chair and flopped Kelda over his leg. “We’ll see how funny you think a spanking is.”
“Get your hands off her!” The menace in Hank’s voice stilled Kelda’s heart.
She tilted her head. Hank’s usual affable face darkened with rage. The glint of anger in his eyes and his clenched fists startled Kelda. Before Dag’s inebriated senses took in Hank’s words, Hank stood her on her feet and moved her toward the door.
“If I see either of you lay a hand on your sister again, I’ll see to it you’re docked wages.” Hank plucked her coat from the back of the chair and draped it over her shoulders. “I’m taking you back to your mother.” He slipped his coat on and opened the door.
Kelda leaned into Hank as he escorted her across the camp with an arm protectively around her shoulders. The scene swirled around in her mind like a tide pool. No one had ever stood up to her brothers when they teased or tormented her. When they picked on her out in the woods, Far just chuckled and told them to take it easy. She studied Hank’s stern face as he stalked across the snowy ground. Why had her brother spanking her upset him so? They were drunk and being stupid. They never hurt her. Well, physically, but her pride usually took a battering from their antics.
He stopped at the door of the cookhouse and drew in a deep breath. “I—”
“Come ins
ide, it will be warmer.” Kelda put her hand out to open the door. She wanted to see his face when he talked to her. The darkness made it hard to see the intent in his eyes.
“I don’t want to say what I have to say in front of your parents.” Emotion deepened his voice and fluttered her stomach.
“I’m sure by the state of the boys, Mor has tucked Far into bed and she’ll be by his side.” Kelda patted his arm and swung the door open. A lantern sat on the table, its flame turned down low. “See. No one.”
She slipped the coat from her shoulders and hung it on the peg by the door. Hank shut the cold and snow out and grasped her shoulders.
“I meant what I said to your brothers. If they lay a hand on you again, tell me, and I’ll dock their wages. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I’ll send them packing.” He stared into her eyes.
The anger and concern swimming in his eyes squeezed her chest. “They’re always swatting me or—”
“You’re not a child nor are you their toy. You’re a woman, and you deserve to be treated like one. As long as I’m paying the men in this camp they will keep their hands off you and treat you like a lady.”
His announcement made her giddy with the thought he saw her as a woman. No one had ever treated her with such high regard. Elation washed through her having someone voice the words she’d been secretly wishing to hear.
“Mange Takk. Thank you for calling me a lady. I’ve never…” Tears burned her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Didn’t want him to see how badly she needed to hear those words.
“Shh…” Hank’s arms wrapped around her. One hand pressed her against his chest while the other rubbed circles on her back.
The heat of his body pressed to hers and his hand soothing her back warmed her better than a red hot stove and filled her with contentment. She snuggled into his embrace, taking in his musky scent, and enjoying this moment of being cherished by someone other than her father.
“Feeling better?” His husky whisper next to her ear slithered tingles of anticipation down her neck.
She raised her chin to peer into his eyes. His dark eyes sparked before his lashes lowered, hiding his emotions. Hank’s face grew near and their lips touched. A quick brush of soft skin to soft skin. The connection rippled pleasure through her body.
A thud in the back room jolted their lips apart.
Chapter 7
Hank stared into Kelda’s dreamy gaze. The kiss had been everything he’d dreamed of—sweet, innocent, and intoxicating. Damn. He kissed her. First he stood up for her with her brothers and now this. His gaze darted to the back of the room to see what caused the sound that sprang them apart. Ingrid stepped out of the room she shared with Arvid and picked up a skillet. He didn’t have time to make an excuse or find words to get out of the predicament he’d made.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He ducked out the door without a glance at Kelda.
He balled his fists and stomped across the camp. He’d known having an unmarried woman in the camp would cause trouble, he just hadn’t thought it would be him that got caught in the trouble. Hank started for the office, but when the bright light in the one window tossed a shadow on the wall inside of one of Kelda’s brothers, he turned his toes toward the only other building with a light on. Paddy O’Brien’s cabin. He didn’t want to have a chat with Kelda’s brothers when they were liquored up. And he could really use some of Paddy’s wisdom about how far over the line he’d stepped as the boss of this outfit.
~*~
Kelda stared at the door. Flutters tickled her insides and heat warmed her lips. Hank called her a lady, and then he kissed her. Two things, she’d dreamed of ever since she’d realized she would never fit into women’s shoes, happened tonight.
“Kelda, what are you doing allowing that man’s hands on you?” Not even Mor’s harsh tone could invade Kelda’s happiness. She touched her lips and sighed.
“He called me a lady and told the boys if they laid hands on me again he’d dock their wages.” She glanced at Mor. Her small body was clad in her nightdress, and she clutched a frying pan. Was that why Hank hightailed it out the door?
“Ja, he called you a lady. That’s what you are.” Mor put a hand on Kelda’s arm. “Come on over and have a cup of tea with me.”
She followed Mor to the table and sat while her mother put the tea kettle on the stove and placed cups, saucers, and honey on the table.
Mor sat across from Kelda and reached over, taking one of her hands. “I know Far and the boys have always treated you like one of them, but I wanted you to be tough since you took a liking to the outdoors and begged to work with the men.” Tears glistened in Mor’s eyes. “I know how much you want to be working in the woods with Far. I see it in the yearning in your eyes every morning when the men walk out that door.”
The tea kettle whistled. Mor pat her hand and stood, shuffling to the stove and picking up the kettle. The whistling subsided as Mor poured water into a tea pot and spooned in the tea leaves.
Why did Mor have tears in her eyes as she talked to me? What made her sad?
Kelda studied her mother’s slow movements. She remembered a time when Mor flitted around the cookhouse like her skirt was on fire. These days her movements were slow and methodical. Some days Kelda believed Mor second guessed her ingredients and looked a little muddled when she started to get something and would come back with a different item. Was that why Far wanted Kelda to remain in the cookhouse and not outside helping?
Mor poured the light brown tea into the cups and sat. She raised the cup to her lips and sipped. Kelda stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea before she sniffed the aromatic steam rising from the cup and sipped.
“It’s good of you to sit with me while I have a cup of tea,” Mor said, the worry lines gone from her brow and her eyes shimmered a soft green.
Had she forgotten their earlier discussion? Not wanting to talk about it anyway, Kelda nodded. “I needed a warm drink to help me sleep.”
Mor patted her arm. “Yes, it always helps me to sleep.”
Kelda vowed to watch Mor closer during the day and to tell Far she knew why he wanted her to stay in the kitchen.
~*~
Paddy stared at Hank. The old codger had laughed when Hank told him about docking the Nielson boys’ wages. Now he stared into Hank’s face with the cunning and intensity of a wolf.
“You stood up for Kelda with her brothers?”
Hank curled and uncurled the brim of his hat in a tense fist. “It’s not right the way they always touch her and make fun of her. She’s a woman and being around men all the time has to wear on her. There’s no need for them giving her aggravations.”
“She made the decision to stay here. Arvid offered to send her to a teaching school.” Paddy held out a bottle of whiskey he’d been sipping on when Hank invaded his privacy.
Hank shook his head. “Why didn’t she go? She seemed wistful about living somewhere other than a storeroom the other day.”
“The Nielsen’s are a strong family. They support one another and she loves the woods.” Paddy chuckled. “Could you see her standing in front of a bunch of children?”
Hank started to nod his head then a flash of her swinging an axe stopped him. Her face glowed with good health and happiness when she swung that axe and made wood chips fly. He shook it off. “I think she’d make a fine teacher.”
Paddy outright guffawed. When he reined in his humor, he took a sip of whiskey and squinted one eye at Hank. “Yer tryin’ to put her somewhere she’s not wantin’ to be. If she had a notion to leave she could have left a long time ago, but she didn’t.”
“She told me she’s had to battle with other loggers. That’s not right.” Hank couldn’t forget she was a woman, and as one, he’d been brought up to protect her.
“If she wants to be a logger she has to, from time to time, put some of them in their place. They don’t brawl, but they can get into some axe swingin’ or climbin’ matches. That little lady has lost to few
.”
“What happens when she loses?” Hank had a feeling that was Kelda’s problem. She lost to the men and therefore felt she had to work harder to prove her strength.
“She’s only lost two times, but then she hasn’t gone against her pa.” Paddy winked.
“Who did she lose to?”
“Dag and Karl.”
“She went against her brothers?” The men were both larger and brawnier than her. She was more foolish than he’d thought.
“It’s the way of the woods. You have to best the best in order to take over their jobs if you’ve a mind to be a wood boss.” Paddy took another sip and stared pointedly at his bed.
“Will I have to go up against Dag and Karl?”
“Only if you have somethin’ to prove. Bein’ the boss you don’t have to.”
Hank stood, cramming his hat on his head. Now he had more than just the kiss he shouldn’t have taken to keep him up tonight.
He opened the door and Paddy called to him, “If you don’t want the others givin’ you what for, you need to stop moonin’ over Kelda.”
Hank pulled the door firmly shut behind him and stalked to the office. Not only did he kiss Kelda, but the whole damn camp speculated over his interest in her.
The light in the office barely glowed in the window. The brothers must have finally gone to their cabin. He opened the door and hung his hat and coat on the pegs by the door. Hank pivoted to add wood to the stove and stopped short.
Karl sat on the stool, his head resting on his crossed arms on the counter. Damn. He’d have to wake the man and get him to his bed. The bright side, it was better than lying in bed and pondering the evening.
“Karl.” He shook the shoulder the size of a regular person’s head.
“Mmmfff. What?” Karl’s head came up, and he shoved the stool backward as he rose to his feet. The sound of the furniture hitting the floor was muffled by the hard packed dirt.
“Karl, you need to go to your cabin and get to bed so you can work tomorrow.” Hank tugged the man toward the door. The brothers had arrived at the office earlier without any overcoats. No doubt, in their drunken state they left them hanging at the cookhouse.