Roz Denny Fox

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Roz Denny Fox Page 18

by Precious Gifts


  “Hey.” He muzzled the Border collie with both hands and warned him to cease barking. “That’s my old rifle. I can’t believe you almost killed me with my own gun. How did you get hold of it?”

  Hayley, who’d turned pale in spite of her tan, set the worn gunstock on the narrow trail and leaned on it as she massaged her protruding belly. “Your mother left it when she stopped by this morning to pick up another batch of ore. She heard from an attendant where she buys gas that two men, strangers, were asking questions about any new gold or silver mines in the area. Oh, Jake, I’m so afraid it’s Joe and Shad. They don’t know it’s opals I’ve found, but…” She dropped the rifle, skidded down the sidehill and threw herself into Jake’s arms.

  It felt wonderful to hold her, to breathe in the flowery scent of her shampoo.

  Jake had no compunction about pushing the dog aside to fill his arms with the woman he loved.

  “You scared the tar out of me, lady. I thought someone jumped your claim.” Jake tightened his hold on her.

  “No wonder you were scared,” Hayley murmured. “I shouldn’t have shot without knowing who you were. But you shouldn’t have sneaked up on me, either. Not while I was still half-deaf from the blast. I can’t use a jackhammer because of the baby, and the ore’s running deeper. The only way I can widen the vein is with dynamite.”

  “That blast scared me even more than riding in and finding your camp empty. I thought something had happened to you.”

  Hayley drew back. “Oh, right,” she drawled. “I haven’t seen you for days. You must’ve been really worried.”

  “Didn’t Mom tell you the storm stampeded our herd?”

  “No. In fact, she never said the rifle was yours, either.”

  “Wow, I hope she’s not mad at me, as well as my dad.”

  Hayley managed to regain her feet, although it wasn’t easy given the incline and her pregnancy. “Look, I need to go back and dig. Nell said she or Eden will drive out here every morning to pick up whatever ore I’ve managed to haul out. That way, if Joe does show up, he’ll have less to steal.”

  Jake’s control snapped. “I suppose it never dawned on any of you that he’d be mad as a hornet if he comes up empty-handed? Why didn’t Mom call on the mobile and let me know Joe was closing in? Dillon has a phone at our base camp.”

  “It’s not your fight, Jake. It’s mine. I thought I made that clear.”

  “Oh? Then why did you throw yourself into my arms?”

  Hayley stomped up the hill. “My mistake,” she said, stooping to grab a pickax. “A reaction to having shot at you. Relief I didn’t kill you. Go on back to your roundup. If Joe shows up, I’ll take care of him.”

  Jake’s anger crumbled in the face of her courage. “I’ve come to help, and you need me whether you admit it or not. I learned there’s more people than Joe who’d like to see you gone. John Westin of the J & B promised developers access to the spring if they buy him out. They’d turn this area into a resort.”

  She gasped, then said they’d get it over her dead body.

  Jake hesitated mentioning his dad and Dillon’s wishes. Because when it came right down to it, he was one-third of the Triple C. Jake didn’t see how he could allude to his family’s interest in obtaining rights to the spring without implicating himself. He decided not to involve his dad and brother at this point.

  “Until John pays you another visit, there’s no sense trying to second-guess him. In the meantime I’m here to help you dig. Why don’t we get to it?”

  “Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know the exact location of my mine.”

  Jake stared into her eyes, his own refusing to let her get away with questioning his integrity.

  Eventually Hayley expelled an uneven breath. “I take that back, Jake. I know you’re a hundred percent in my corner. It’s because of you that I have an outlet for my opals. I owe you a lot already.”

  “No. I can’t take the credit. That all goes to Eden. She overheard me asking my mother to visit you. Hayley,” he said earnestly, “I want you to trust me because I care about you. A lot.”

  “We did agree to be friends. Come on. I’ll show you the mine. And we’ll see how fast you beg to go back to chasing cows.” Her laughter trilled.

  Jake followed her swaying skirt up the rocky trail. It was evident she still didn’t trust him as fully as he wanted to be trusted. He tried not to let that matter. He’d known he’d have to win her over slowly. And once she saw that he was sticking around for the long haul, it might not be so hard for her to agree that the next logical step was marriage.

  Coming to a halt behind her, Jake stared into a yawning pit of dynamited rock and wondered how on earth a man made himself indispensable to a woman capable of blowing up a hill and packing it out a piece at a time—all while she was seven months pregnant.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JAKE HAD DUG PLENTY of fence-post holes in this unrelenting ground. He knew how much muscle it took. He soon discovered that layers of blue stone Hayley sought were embedded in a tougher, thicker clay she called bentonite. His hammer and chisel bounced ineffectively off the stuff five times for every bite he made into pay dirt. If he hadn’t had respect for Hayley before, he sure did now. In plain speaking, mining was hard work for a strong man, let alone a small pregnant woman.

  The two of them were wedged in a cut in the ground barely big enough to move around in. As the sun fell in its westward journey, it beat down on them without mercy.

  Hayley seemed oblivious to the hardship. She chipped away steadily, pausing now and again to drink from a canteen she’d hung over a sturdy tree limb. Each time, she refilled the dog’s cracked bowl, too. He whined, lapped up every drop of water and flopped down again in a narrow strip of shade that kept moving.

  Jake took a long pull from his own canteen. He’d fetched it from his saddle when he’d gone after the jackhammer she hadn’t been able to use, plus an extra set of mining tools she’d stored in her trailer. He’d never been inside her sleeping quarters before, so he’d spent a few minutes measuring what he was up against in trying to pry her away from here.

  Her bedroom was little more than a cubbyhole. Her bed was a hard narrow mattress on a piece of solid plywood. A small clock sat on the floor beside a battery-operated radio. The cupboards above and below the bed must be where she stored her clothes, although Jake refrained from opening any doors.

  The bathroom, which didn’t look as if it had ever been used, was approximately the size of his mother’s broom closet. Jake liked space; he found Hayley’s present home claustrophobic. The tiny area that served as her living room and kitchen was uncluttered except for geological and mineral books piled behind a small rocker. The stack also included a few outdated Western novels. A handknit baby blanket that Jake recognized as his mother’s work and two terry-cloth infant sleepers occupied a prominent place on one of the built-ins. Other than that, no personal mementos sat among furnishings more masculine than feminine. This was probably the way Ben had left it.

  Jake felt strongly that Hayley deserved to have a real home where she could hang pictures and decorate a nursery to suit her tastes.

  And she deserved a soft, wide, comfortable bed. One where a man lay next to her every night and made her feel safe, made her feel loved. And not just any man. Him.

  That last thought had ended Jake’s examination of Hayley’s private space. On the way out, however, he’d tripped over a freestanding gem cutter and a barrel tumbler of the type Eden used at home and in her shop. It reminded Jake that he’d come for a hammer, chisel and spade, and made him feel less as if he’d snooped.

  Now, while wedged tightly in a pit mindlessly hacking rock, he found himself thinking about Hayley’s easy acceptance of hardship. He’d long since removed his shirt and was still sweating like a hog. Hayley wore a long denim jumper and seemed oblivious to the heat.

  She’d sewn bags from canvas—to facilitate transporting of the rocks, she’d explained—and wore one now draped over
her left shoulder. Nearly full, it hung past her knees. Jake didn’t doubt that it bruised her calves.

  “You ought to have something with wheels to haul this ore back to camp,” he said, pausing to blot sweat from his face. “Like a wagon. The kind with wooden sides. We have one stored in the garage. I’ll stop there tomorrow and bring it when I come.”

  “A wagon?” Hayley blinked as if drawn back from far away.

  “Yes, a kid’s toy. Mom saved a lot of Dillon’s and my old stuff. For her grandchildren.” Jake threw that out deliberately. It was time Hayley began to picture the Coopers not just in their work environments but as a family.

  The rhythm of Hayley’s hammer never faltered. “Thanks, but I don’t want to leave any tracks to and from the mine that anyone could follow. That’s why I quit using the sled you built. Well, it also put a lot of strain on my back.”

  “The ground at this level is too hard for a rubber-wheeled wagon to leave tracks. And below, through the trees, it’s a bed of pine needles.”

  “The bags are fine.”

  “When they’re full, they weigh a ton. Doesn’t being pregnant already hurt your back?”

  “I’m okay, Jake.” Even as she said it, Hayley adjusted the canvas sack and without realizing it, stopped a moment to massage her lower back.

  Jake didn’t have to say a word. She followed the line of his intent gaze, quickly yanking her hand away as she gave a short laugh. “Bring the wagon.” She sighed. “I could probably carry two or three times the ore that fits in one bag. When I first sewed these, I lifted two at a time. Lately I’ve had to cut down to one.”

  “Hayley! Don’t apologize as if you’re shirking,” he said gruffly. “Don’t most pregnant women slow down before they’re as far along as you are?”

  “Dr. Gerrard said the majority of his patients continue normal lives throughout their pregnancy. I’ll bet your mom never coddled herself.”

  Jake laughed. “Not having been around at the time, I’m afraid I can’t say. On second thought, you’re probably right. My mom’s a doer.”

  “So am I. If you’re going to stay and help me, Jake, you have to quit trying to pamper me.”

  “To an extent, I’ll agree. While I’m on board, I want you to take regular breaks, though. I’ll carry all loads of ore down the hill or wheel them once I bring the wagon.”

  Hayley might have argued, but the low nagging pain in her back had taken its toll. She’d awakened with it this morning, and it hadn’t abated even a little. “Okay. How often are you going to be here?” she asked breathlessly. “Are you done with roundup?”

  “No. For a few weeks I’m only available half days.”

  “It’s too much, Jake. I’ll pay you,” she burst out. Almost at once her eyes filled with concern. She knew what miners earned an hour. Until Eden set and sold some of the polished gems, Hayley’s income wouldn’t cover what she needed for a hospital delivery, let alone the funds to tide her and the baby over until she could dig again next summer. How in the world could she pay Jake?

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t make that ridiculous offer. Friends—” he emphasized the word “—don’t pay one another for favors.”

  “Thank you, then.” Those were perhaps the hardest three words she’d ever spoken.

  “You’re welcome. Now, about your breaks. It’s time for the first one.”

  Hayley had been feeling shaky. It seemed hotter today, or was that her imagination? Without offering a single argument, she crawled out of the ditch and uncapped the canteen. She filled Charcoal’s bowl and sank down beside him in the narrow band of shade, resting against the tree trunk.

  Jake continued to chip away, breaking out chunks of colored stone. “I suspect you’ve been at this far too long today,” he said. “Why don’t you knock off and go back to camp where it’s cooler under the pines? I’ll fill both our bags and bring them down when I finish.”

  “I shouldn’t.” The way she lingered over the word said she was tempted.

  “I saw a rock tumbler in the trailer. Start it, why don’t you?”

  “Can’t. When I jumped at the chance to apprentice with Eden, I didn’t think about needing electricity. I can’t even watch the videos on cutting and polishing she sent with your mom.”

  “See? You ought to move your operation to the Triple C.” He’d no more than said it when he could have bitten his tongue. Especially after recalling his dad’s snide comment about moving Hayley lock, stock and barrel into their home.

  “That’s not necessary,” she said stiffly. “Nell’s going to talk to Eden. She thinks there are polishers that run off battery packs. If not, my training can wait until after I have the baby.”

  “Did the doctor do an ultrasound?” Jake’s question came out of the blue because he’d found himself wondering if Hayley was going to have a boy or a girl. Not that it mattered either way; he was just curious.

  “No. Dr. Gerrard is a real country doctor. He doesn’t do them routinely for women my age. And they don’t always tell you if it’s a boy or a girl, anyway. But that’s okay. The prospect of learning my baby’s sex after nine months of wondering may make the labor easier to handle.”

  “Do you have a preference? Boy over girl or vice versa?”

  “That’s an odd question.”

  “Why? Don’t some women lean toward one or the other? Have you already picked names?”

  Hayley grinned. “How about Opal if it’s a girl?”

  Jake shook his head. “Uh-uh. Too old-fashioned. She’d hate you when she landed in first grade with all the Ashleys, Nicoles and Caitlins.”

  “Dr. Gerrard’s receptionist said I can get a book of names from the library. I’ll add that to my list of things to do after I leave here and go to Tombstone for the birth.”

  “When’s the baby due? Apparently Dillon arrived late and I showed up early. This isn’t an exact science, you know.”

  “The doctor said around Christmas.”

  “So it could be Thanksgiving or New Year’s?”

  “I hope not. By New Year’s Day, I’d be the size of an elephant. And I’m counting on being able to do Christmasy stuff after Thanksgiving, like trim a tree.”

  Jake detected homesickness in her wistful words. He felt badly about being the cause of her nostalgia, but she’d given him a better idea of when he’d need to have his house ready for occupation. The stab-in-the-dark date he’d thrown out to his dad for completion of the house was pretty much on target. Jake pictured cutting a tree and helping Hayley trim it. “I like real trees,” he said. “How about you? You don’t strike me as a person who goes for fakes.”

  “We never had a tree. I enjoyed the ones in the stores and Francesca’s, although hers was plastic. I realize now that she probably bought the artificial tree out of concern for my grandfather’s asthma.”

  “Who’s Francesca?”

  Hayley blushed and rose to her feet, concentrating on dusting off the seat of her jumper. “I never know what to call her. She and Gramps were, uh, lovers.”

  Jake thought about bowlegged old Ben O’Dell. Though generally clean, he rarely got a haircut and his clothes tended to be well washed and frequently patched. He’d shown virtually no interest in his appearance. Somehow, Jake would never have linked the old guy with a woman named Francesca.

  “Does that shock you?” Hayley asked, looking back at him before she started down the hill.

  “Shock? No. I just find it odd that Ben had two important women in his life, and all the times we sat and talked, he never mentioned either of you.”

  Hayley’s fingers curled into her sides. “That’s because prospecting was the most important thing in his life. Francesca accepted it. I was the one who always wanted more than he could give.”

  Jake’s temper fired. “A relationship doesn’t have to be that way, where one always gives and the other takes.”

  “Really? How should it be?” Her tone was…not sarcastic, but cynical. Unbelieving.

  He’d stu
ck his foot in it now. Hayley nailed him with a look that said, Go ahead, lie. Tell me life is beautiful.

  She waited, so he had to say something. Jake cleared his throat. “I can only explain my own views. All relationships have ups and downs. Ideally, more ups than downs.”

  Hayley snapped her fingers for Charcoal to follow her down the narrow path. “Funny,” she called back. “I thought only girls believed in fairy tales.”

  It wasn’t until Jake hit his thumb with the hammer, yelped, then dropped the heavy chisel on his knee, that he discovered how profoundly her defeatist attitude had affected him. Jaded as Hayley was, talking her around to accepting marriage presented a bigger hurdle than he’d first imagined.

  Patience, Jacob. The admonition came out of nowhere. As a kid he’d never been known to have any. It was a phrase he’d heard from his grandfather and his parents as far back as he could remember. Grandpa Cooper used to say, “Hot will cool if greedy will let it.” Not true, Jake thought now. At least not when it came to his love for Hayley.

  He’d prove to her that he could stick like a firefly to a screen door. Others had let her down. He planned to keep showing up until she learned to count on him. That was the answer, plain and simple. He’d outwait her.

  Jake whistled a popular ballad as he filled his knapsack and then loaded Hayley’s. The sun’s face had disappeared behind the horizon by the time both bags were filled. The day was still far from cool. The humidity, which had risen the day of the stampede, had yet to subside. It might be a while before it did, Jake figured as he trudged toward Hayley’s now-crackling campfire.

  Charcoal whined a welcome and bounded out to meet Jake. After licking his hand, the dog ran back and flopped at Hayley’s feet.

  Reaching the lawn chair, Jake saw that Hayley had fallen asleep. A book titled The Opal Challenge lay open across her rounded stomach. Something that smelled like stick-to-your-ribs food bubbled in a pot hanging over the fire. Jake realized he hadn’t eaten since five that morning. He’d grabbed a pancake rolled around a sausage before riding off to flush out strays, and he hadn’t even gone back for coffee later because he was hoarding the time to spend with Hayley.

 

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