The Minx Miner

by Janelle Daniels

  Logan didn’t like the man’s tone. “She is helping around the ranch currently, but her circumstances are very unusual.”

  “I don’t understand what possessed you to invite her tonight. It isn’t done.” The man shook his head as if truly baffled, and Logan’s blood began to boil. “If my daughter is ever in charge here, I guarantee such things will stop.”

  That was enough. “Whoever I marry would never bar anyone I deem worthy. And although you might question my choices, I hope in the future you’d have enough sense to keep them to yourself. Miss Watts is an honored guest here no matter what she might do for work.”

  Mr. Pollard’s face grew mottled. And when Logan was finished, he looked out at the rest of the table, realizing everyone had heard his impassioned reply.

  Gemma was looking down at the table as if ashamed.

  “I want everyone here tonight to know one thing. I don’t care how much money you all have. Most of us started with nothing. And I hope that we can work together to make this town into a place that is a haven for all. But to do that, we need to stop this pretentious nonsense. Everyone starts somewhere. It doesn’t make them any less worthy of our respect. And if anyone in this room is insistent upon such things, they’re free to leave. Such things will not be tolerated.”

  He glared around the room as if daring someone to stand and leave. He knew he was making a scene, drawing a line in the sand that might make enemies, but he didn’t care. Some things were worth standing up for.

  After an awkward silence, Lucas McDermott spoke up. “Many of you know that I came from nothing. I worked in the lowest positions and made a pittance. People looked down on me, they thought me beneath them, but they were wrong. We are all equals no matter what we do. And if people insist on living in the past, the future will crumble.” He held up his cup and toasted Gemma. “You’re welcome here, Miss Watts. We’re in this together.”

  As everyone murmured their agreement, Gemma leaned back into her chair. She seemed uncomfortable with the attention. “Thank you. This is all very new to me. But I appreciate your support, and I appreciate your inclusion.”

  A few more people toasted her words, and then the conversation moved on. After the next course, Gemma excused herself. The urge to follow her was strong, but unless he wanted to completely reveal his heart to the entire room, there was no way he could leave. He just hoped she was all right.

  Gemma didn’t know what to think or feel. All she knew was that she needed to escape. She might not be a historian, but she knew that people weren’t treated equally here. Your status depended on how much you had and what kind of jobs you held—not so completely different from modern times.

  Weren’t doctors and lawyers more desirable, at least by societal standards, than trash collectors? Those professions had status, wealth. Divisions were even more extreme during this time period, and women had no standing whatsoever.

  She’d known all that before coming, but actually living through it was a completely different experience. How would she tolerate such things, knowing how different it could be?

  As impassioned as Logan’s speech was, she knew not everyone in that room agreed with him. Some would never accept her. Some would always look down on her. And it wouldn’t matter if she made her own fortune or married into one.

  In their eyes, she had nothing, not even family connections. And that made her nothing.

  She paced in the library, knowing she’d have to return before anyone came looking for her, but she just didn’t know if she could.

  She took a deep breath then blew it out slowly.

  They might look down on her, but she needed to remember one thing—she wasn’t the person they all thought she was. She was a modern woman, educated, and had traveled through time to be here. How many people could say such a thing?

  She was amazing and talented—maybe not at laundry—but she’d owned a business and could cook. She had skills that she could share with the people here. She needed to stop reacting to everything and be intentional in what she did.

  She could thrive here. She would thrive.

  It was all up to her.

  Feeling more settled, she walked to the door, only to have it open before she reached it. “Oh, pardon me. I was just…” But anything else she had to say died on her lips. “Miss Pollard? What are you doing here?”

  The blonde, petite woman waltzed into the room as if she owned the place. “I wondered where you ran off to. I thought it was time to have a little woman-to-woman talk.”

  Gemma knew exactly what Eliza wanted to say. “Right. You want me to stay away from Logan. He’s yours. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and moved to walk past her, but Eliza’s hand shot out to stop her.

  Eliza’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at Gemma. “I don’t think you understand, but you are correct about one thing. He is mine. This home will be mine. Everything you’ve been touching with your low-class, dirty hands, is mine. You might be staying here, you might be getting cozy with Logan and his mother, but know that they’ll tire of you. You don’t have what it takes to hold his attention for long. You’re only a novelty to him.”

  Gemma couldn’t deny anything Eliza had said. But she was wrong about one thing. “I might be low-class, but my hands are clean. I haven’t needed to scheme my way into Logan’s life or heart. I’m here because they want me here, and as long as they do, I’ll be here.”

  Eliza shook her head. “You really don’t want to get in my way. I guarantee you won’t like what happens.”

  Gemma sighed, pushing Eliza’s hand away. “Honey, you don’t know who you’re dealing with either.”

  Finished with the conversation, Gemma walked out of the room, but instead of heading back to the dining room, she headed for the back stairs.

  She wasn’t running away. But she refused to sit and play nice. She was exhausted from a long day, worn out from the drama, and just wanted to get in bed.

  “Gemma!”

  Her foot was on the bottom stair when Logan caught up with her. She closed her eyes in a brief prayer.

  “Gemma, where are you going? You can’t be retiring already.”

  She turned to face him. “Yes, I can. I’m going to my room, I’m getting in bed, and I’m going to sleep like the dead.”

  Worry filled his eyes. “Don’t let what was said in there bother you. I don’t care about them. I don’t care what they think. Anyone who actually matters isn’t part of the stuck-up, pretend aristocracy like the Pollards.”

  Hearing him refer to Eliza made something in her snap. “If you don’t like people like that, then why are you courting her?”

  His jaw hardened. “It’s complicated.”

  She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “Actually, it’s not. You court someone you’re interested in marrying. If you weren’t considering her as a potential wife, then you wouldn’t be doing that.”

  She spun away to head upstairs, but he caught her wrist, bringing her back to face him. “I don’t care about Eliza. I never have. I’ve only courted her because it pleased my mother. Never me. She’s not anything like the woman I want.”

  For the first time, she embraced the jealousy raging through her. None of this was fair. “And who is that? Some other wealthy woman who will bring you more land and money?” She rubbed her head, hating herself for even asking. She didn’t want to know who he really cared for. All she wanted to do was escape. “Let me go.”

  But instead of letting her go, he jerked her forward until she landed against him. She looked up at his face, meeting his wild eyes. “You want to know who I want? You, Gemma. You. I’ve held back, tried to be the better man, but it’s so difficult every time I see you. I know you belong to someone else. I know it isn’t right to take you for myself, but I can’t think of anything else. I’m starved for you. I’m crazed for you. And I know I’ll never want another but you.”

  She couldn’t breathe. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  He cradled her head in his
hands. “I know exactly what I’m saying.” And then his lips crushed down against hers.

  All she could do was feel. The light swirled around her in a rainbow of color as sensations wove through her. She felt disoriented, out of focus—the only thing clear was him.

  She moaned, opening for him. Her mouth, her mind, her heart.

  He was everything she wanted, everything she’d hoped for.

  And she took the leap into love.

  She didn’t know how things would work out, she didn’t know if he’d been fated for another, but, for now, he was hers.

  She kissed him back wildly. Using her body and her lips to tell him the things she wasn’t ready to say. She wanted him, needed him, just as much as he needed her.

  The kiss gentled, slowed, until he leaned his forehead against hers. “Was that clear enough?”

  A chuckle escaped her, even as she tried to get back her breath. “Yes.”

  He nuzzled her lips, kissing just once more before stepping back. He looked at her and then slowly grinned.

  She reached up to her hair. “What is it?”

  “You look beautiful.”

  She laughed. “I probably look a mess.”

  Heat entered his eyes. “A thoroughly kissed mess.”

  His words and his look sent butterflies through her. “I should head upstairs.”

  “Will you return?”

  She had fully intended on going to bed and forgetting the whole night. But with what had just happened between them, she wanted to be near him. “I’ll just fix my hair and be back down in a bit.”

  “Good. Hurry.” There was promise in his eyes.

  She picked up her skirt and ran up the stairs, his laughter trailing behind her.

  Chapter 9

  Logan put aside all the work he could and set off for town. He had one goal: to find who Gemma was engaged to and end it. What had happened between them last night had changed things.

  He wanted her, and he wanted all ties she had with another man severed.

  Then he could propose to her.

  They’d start their life together, and it would be unlike anything he’d ever imagined before. He wanted to sit and talk with her for hours, to know where she’d come from, who her family was. He wanted to know how she wore her hair when she slept, if she preferred to eat breakfast in bed or in the dining room. He wanted to know every detail about her that made her who she was.

  He wouldn’t pretend he was ignorant of what it all meant. He was in love with her and wanted to spend his life with her.

  And if she wasn’t in love yet, he knew she was well on her way. He couldn’t be the only one who felt this.

  He just had to find the nameless, faceless man first.

  As he rode into town, he greeted several people who called out to him. He normally would stop and chat with each of them, but he didn’t have time today. He needed help, and he knew exactly the men he should talk to.

  He stopped his horse in front of the Copper Kings’ office in town and dismounted, quickly securing his horse before walking into the building.

  A woman with tumbling, fiery red curls looked up from her desk. A smile crossed her lips as she rose. “Mr. Walburn, it’s wonderful to see you.”

  He tipped his hat. “You as well, Mrs. Eversley.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  He looked around the office. “I was hoping to catch one of the Copper Kings. Your husband, Chase, or Lucas, ideally.”

  She shook her head regretfully. “They’re both at the mine today. They should be back in a few hours if you’d like to stop by again, or I could take a message for you.”

  “That isn’t necessary. I was just hoping to ask if they’ve heard of someone. One of their workers, perhaps.”

  She looked at him curiously. “I don’t know everyone, but I might be able to help you. Who is it you’re looking for?”

  “I don’t know his name.”

  That didn’t seem to deter her. “A description then? I’ve met several of the miners.”

  He sighed. “This probably sounds insane, but I don’t know that either.”

  Her eyebrows lifted over her expressive, moss-colored eyes. “I’m sorry.” She laughed. “But you’ll have to give me something to work off of.”

  He shook his head in amusement. “I have a woman staying with my mother and I. Her stagecoach was robbed on its way here. She came as a mail-order bride.”

  Her expression fell. “That’s terrible! Is she well?”

  “She is,” he hurried to assure her. “She wasn’t injured. But the problem is that her belongings were stolen, including the letters she’d exchanged with her intended. They hadn’t conversed long, and she can’t remember his name.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem.” She frowned. “The man must be waiting for her.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s what we thought as well, but once word spread, everyone was claiming to be her fiancé. It was chaos.”

  Her eyes widened. “My goodness. I can just imagine.”

  “I was hoping you’d know of a man who’s talked about sending for a bride.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she thought. “No. I haven’t. However, that might be because the news hasn’t gotten to me. Chase might know.” She rolled her eyes. “He always knows all the gossip.”

  He snorted in amusement. “I can see that about him.”

  “I can ask him and Lucas when they return. I’m sure if it was one of the workers, they would’ve heard about it. I’ll have word sent to you if they know anything.”

  That was the best he could hope for. “I appreciate your help.”

  “Of course.” She walked him to the door but stopped him before he could walk out. “The woman, will she remain at your house?”

  “She will.”

  Understanding lit in her eyes. “I see.” She chuckled. “Well, I was going to offer her a place to stay if she was in a rough spot, but it sounds like she’s taken care of.”

  He nodded once. Now that he intended to marry her, it might not be proper for her to stay with him, but he wasn’t going to let her go. “She’s well taken care of.”

  “I can see that. Please let her know that if she ever needs anything—whether its advice or just to spend time with other women who understand what it’s like to be uprooted—have her pay me or any of the other women a visit. We’re always excited to welcome another woman into town.”

  He could just picture Gemma settling into her new life here. “I’ll let her know. Thank you.” He tipped his hat one last time and stepped out the door, feeling a little lighter.

  But as the day progressed and he spoke with Rhys Winthrop, the blacksmith, and several other men who might have heard about a mail-order bride, he became more frustrated.

  No one had heard of a bride coming. It was like she’d come from nowhere. But that wasn’t possible.

  People didn’t just appear from thin air.

  Gemma was humming as she swept the floor in the sunroom, feeling like everything was right in the world. Officially, nothing had happened between her and Logan, but it felt like everything had changed.

  It was amazing how a person could go from despair to happiness in only a matter of minutes. But that’s what it was like.

  Although she’d felt Eliza’s daggers for the rest of the night, Gemma hadn’t cared. She only had eyes for Logan. And it had been apparent to everyone else in the room that he felt the same.

  Everything she’d done, everything she’d sacrificed had been worth it.

  Her broom slowed.

  All she needed to do was tell him who she really was. He’d believe her, wouldn’t he?

  She resumed her sweeping, faster than before. He had to believe her. It was the truth, after all. She’d have to also tell him that she’d lied about being a mail-order bride, but he’d understand that as well.

  She hoped.

  “Gemma?”

  Just hearing his voice sent goosebumps racing over her skin. She looked over
her shoulder and grinned. “I was wondering when you’d get home. It must’ve been a long day.” She put her broom aside and walked to him before pulling him into a hug.

  He froze at the gesture, and she realized people probably didn’t do such things here. They weren’t even engaged, after all.

  She squeezed him one more time before easing back. “I apologize. I’m rather affectionate.”

  She was slipping her arms from him when he grabbed her wrists, tugging them back around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. “I like when you touch me. You have my permission to do so whenever you want.”

  Her heart quickened. “Promise?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good. Because I enjoy it.”

  “I do too.”

  It was easy between them, so good. She couldn’t wait to get married and have even more together. “Were you at the mine today?” she asked. He frowned, and she realized something was wrong. “What is it?”

  “I was in town, looking for your fiancé.”

  She froze. “Oh.”

  “I couldn’t locate him. I went everywhere, asked anyone I thought might have heard something. It seems as though no one was expecting your arrival.”

  “I see.” She stepped away from him, needing space for this conversation. She took a deep breath before turning back to him. He remained quiet, watching her.

  She cleared her throat, gathering her courage. “You couldn’t find my fiancé because there never was one.”

  His eyebrows pinched. “You never had a fiancé? How is that possible if you came as a mail-order…” Knowledge flashed in his eyes. “You lied? You were never a mail-order bride?”

  She saw the confusion in his eyes, the hurt. She bit her lip and shook her head. “I can explain.”

  His jaw hardened. “Was your stagecoach robbed?”

  She winced. “No.”

  He spun away from her, pacing the room. Finally, he stopped and looked at her. “Why lie to me? What is it you’re after?” His nostrils flared. “The money? The mother lode?”