“You’ll have your work cut out for you, Lucas, when you face this little lady. She is smart and cunning.”
“The lady’s not as smart as she thinks she is,” mumbled Heisman.
The words had barely left Heisman’s lips when Lucas Reed set down the tray of refreshments and stormed across the room. “I believe you have been warned about your tone and manner toward Mrs. Worthington. I suggest you remove yourself to another room, or you shall answer to me.”
Alfred Heisman gave the younger man a look of disdain. But when he noticed Simon Faherty rising from his seat, he nodded at Prudence.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am.” He stepped around Lucas and left the room. They heard his boots on his stairs.
“I had no idea Mr. Heisman boarded here,” commented Prudence. She took a deep breath, not even realizing she’d been holding it during the confrontation between the men.
“We never generally see him. He leaves early in the morning and isn’t usually back until late into the night. I surmise he spends most of his time at the mine office,” Simon answered.
“Is he that dedicated to his job?” Prudence said.
“Or so inhospitable that no one can tolerate his company, so he keeps to himself,” Lucas Reed said. “He’d best watch his step around you, ma’am. I won’t stand for him being so inconsiderate and rude.”
Prudence bestowed her sweetest smile on the men. “I thank you both for defending me, although I believe Mr. Heisman cannot accept that a woman could be as good at his job as he is. Perhaps once we have an opportunity to work together, and I can prove myself, he’ll be more civil.”
Both men nodded and Prudence returned to the game with the schoolmaster.
She didn’t admit to the gentlemen in the parlor that she’d met men like Alfred Heisman before and once they felt threatened by a woman, they’d do anything to prove their opinion of her was the correct one.
Chapter Ten
Practice Makes Perfect Sense
“The typewriting machine is a fine invention.” Prudence placed her fingers on the keys. “The challenge is that the keyboard is designed in such a way that the typist should have the placement of each letter memorized.”
Gerritt watched her with barely contained excitement. He’d been interested in seeing her operate the typewriter for several weeks, but she’d insisted that until there was a clean, clear space in the office to place it, the machine would remain in its wooden box.
When she finally relented today Gerritt was as excited as a child on Christmas day he pulled the nails from the box before tossing the straw packing on the floor. When he pulled out the typewriter, and set it on the small oak desk, he could have been placing a fine porcelain vase there.
“So, you’ve committed the placement of the keys to memory. I’m impressed. That must be quite an undertaking.”
Prudence warmed with pride at his compliment. “It requires a great deal of practice. We performed drills day after day, until I was so weary of them I wanted to scream.”
She started to type. Glancing at the notes she’d made using Pittman’s Fonografy when Gerritt dictated a letter earlier that day, she translated the strange squiggles, dots and lines into sentences. She hit the carriage return to move the platen to the next line.
Watching her, a huge grin spread across Gerritt’s face.
She should have known he’d find the machine irresistible. She’d discovered hundreds of drawings of fantastical machines while organizing his office. He was obsessed with all kinds of mechanical inventions.
She’d even found designs for machines that flew through the air. Those had fired her imagination like nothing else. To fly like a bird was a dream she’d harbored since she was a child. She’d sit beneath a tree near the fields with Eli, watching the hawks soar above them, riding the currents of the wind. They’d wish together they could hover above the earth and see all the things the birds could see.
She hadn’t managed to muster enough courage to ask Gerritt about those designs. Instead, she’d labeled a folder with the contents and filed them away. And when Gerritt wasn’t around…those were the designs she’d pulled out to study, enjoy and dream about.
She finished the letter, pulled it out of the typewriter and handed it to Gerritt with an official snap of her wrist.
“Please review the letter for accuracy and sign it. I’ll post it today on my way back to the boarding house.”
She’d worked hard since moving to Mrs. McCauley’s to keep their relationship on a purely professional level. She called him Professor Rhinehart and he responded by calling her Mrs. Worthington. It felt like they were building a wall between them with good manners and etiquette.
But, if it preserved her position as his secretary, she’d have to settle for the cordial but cool and respectful attitude he showed her. She needed this job and had no intention of doing anything to jeopardize it.
Gerritt handed the paper back to her. Her heart did a little flip. She’d nearly forgotten about the lovely, deep dimples that framed his face when he smiled. She glanced away to hide her reaction.
“You didn’t make even one mistake.”
Prudence blinked at him. “The whole point of all that practice is to become so proficient you don’t make mistakes. I strive for perfection.”
Gerritt leaned back in the chair facing the table and nodded. “A worthy goal, if not always achievable. I admire your discipline, Mrs. Worthington.”
Prudence worked to control her temper. She fussed with more papers on the desk to avoid looking up at him. Did he think her efforts at perfection and order to be a joke? She’d worked harder than any other student at Lamere’s Business School to acquire her skills.
Many of the men had made her the brunt of their jokes about women who didn’t know their place. While several of the other women in her classes had cried about the unfair treatment and harassment, it had hardened Prudence’s resolve to succeed even more.
She’d arranged to organize her Uncle Edwin’s office and papers to earn extra money and she’d made enough to purchase a Sholes and Glidden typewriting machine of her own. Then she’d earned more money by renting out the machine to other female students at Lamere’s.
She’d sold it to Gerritt when he’d inquired about purchasing one for himself. It had provided her with her own small grub stake for her trip to Montana territory. Not enough to provide much of a cushion but enough to make sure if things didn’t work out here she could get home again. With or without help from Professor Rhinehart.
She’d learned the hard way that a smart woman should always be prepared for every exigency. She’d been unprepared to be a wife, unprepared to be a widow and unprepared to take care of herself. She never intended to rely on anyone but herself again.
Gerritt signed the letter with a flourish of his pen and handed it to her to be blotted.
“We might leave earlier today, so you can post the letter while I check in with William Templeton at the mine office.”
Prudence nodded. “I planned to start organizing your books on the shelves over there.” She tipped her head in the direction of the solid oak shelves that rose from the floor to the ceiling. “Now that I’ve cleaned them off, they’ll hold most of your collection.”
She swung away from the typewriter in her chair and picked up a notebook. “How would you like me to organize them?”
Gerritt stared at her for a few minutes. “Alphabetical?” He didn’t sound sure of himself.
“By subject or author?”
Gerritt drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t know. I leave it to your expertise. I’d like to be able to find a book when I wanted to read it without sorting through every volume in the room.”
“I suggest by subject matter first, since you have such a variety of topics and then by the author’s last name, alphabetically.”
Gerritt stood. “Fine, you’re the expert on organization.” He glanced around the room and gave her a sheepish grin, his eyes sparkling wi
th delight.
“I’m quite happy with your work, Mrs. Worthington. It saves me a great deal of time to be able to find what I’m searching for without tearing the entire office apart.” He rubbed his chin. “In fact, you’ve been working so hard lately, I’ve a notion to give you a treat.”
“That’s not necessary, Professor Rhinehart. You pay me an excellent salary and your offer to pay my board at Mrs. McCauley’s is generous.” She glanced at her hands, twisting in her lap. “It would be greedy for me to expect anything else from my employer.”
“Greedy to enjoy a picnic on a beautiful summer day?”
Gerritt crossed the room and glanced out the window as he waited for her to answer.
Prudence didn’t know what to say. Her first impulse was to shout yes, yes, please. I want to spend time alone with you more than anything else. But he’d set the boundaries for their relationship. Boundaries she was determined to respect.
“You would be doing me a tremendous favor, as Alma has been pestering me to get out and have a bit of fun.” He frowned. “She dogs my every step with her opinion that I work far too much.”
“I agree with her about that,” Prudence answered. “I’ve seen you heading out to check on your mines at the end of the day, even though you’ve spent hours in your workshop.
Heat suffused her cheeks as she realized she’d let him know she was aware of his activities even when they weren’t together. It was too personal a remark for her to make to her employer. Her guise of studied nonchalance was wearing thin.
“Have I been that obvious?” He seemed worried.
She wove her fingers together and folded her hands in her lap, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. The most difficult task she’d ever undertaken was to be distant and self-contained around this man. This man who made her shiver in delight whenever he brushed against her. This man who was far too handsome, far too charming and far too appealing for her to resist.
She donned a placid expression before lifting her gaze to meet his forest green eyes.
“I’m sure Alma and I have noticed how hard you’ve been working because we are your employees. I was concerned there might be some duties I haven’t yet assumed that could assist you.”
Gerritt’s broad shoulders relaxed. “I have several new projects and I need to keep track of the progress myself. Rest assured, if I need your help I won’t be shy about seeking it.”
He crossed the room again to stand in front of her. He leaned forward, putting his hands on each arm of the chair. His lips were close enough to kiss, and it took all her willpower to resist the temptation. Her heart thumped a heavy beat as she caught the clean scent of pine she associated with him. .
“That still doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a lovely picnic in the woods and it would be more enjoyable with company.”
Prudence swallowed. It was so difficult for her to think clearly when Gerritt was this close. Close enough for her to trace her finger down a cheek that bore the shadow of a beard.
“I’m not sure that would be appropriate—for us to go together—into the woods,” she said, looking away from him to gather control of her emotions. Gerritt confused and aroused her at the same time.
“It’s only a picnic and you’ll have an opportunity to see more of the countryside. Summer is beautiful in Montana.”
He was wearing down her resistance. After all, spending time with Gerritt was what she wanted more than anything, but she knew if he made any kind of advance or worst of all—kissed her again—her defenses would dissolve. He could be a formidable adversary in the battle for her heart.
Yet, he’d done nothing but act like a gentleman since his confession that he desired her and therefore found it necessary to get her out of his house. Would he still be able to control himself when they were alone?
And why did the idea that he might not make her quiver with delight?
“I suppose an outing would be fine. You’re correct, I would like to see more of the scenery.” She smiled at him. “It’s very kind of you to ask me.”
He bent down toward her again, far too close. Dark eyelashes framed his eyes, which twinkled with a mischievous gleam. “Well, we have already ascertained that I’m a generous and kind employer, correct?”
She couldn’t keep her gaze from settling on his beautiful lips. And she remembered the way his mouth had moved across hers so many weeks ago, gentle yet demanding. She shifted in her chair, aware of a heat building deep inside of her like the banked coals of a fire suddenly leaping to flame.
“Have we finished?” She couldn’t seem to keep her voice from quavering. Drat, he’d know how easily he could affect her.
“A slow, sensual grin spread across his face as he straightened. “For today, yes—we’re done. Let me get my coat and hat, then I’ll escort you to town.”
He returned a few minutes later wearing his black frock coat and holding his dark felt hat. He dressed as a successful businessman should, with a white shirt, standing collar, vest and dark trousers. But his large felt hat and tall leather boots gave a nod to Western garb.
She donned her gloves and settled her bonnet on her head, securing it with the ribbon beneath her chin. She tucked the letter, now within an envelope she’d created and sealed with wax, into her reticule.
On the porch, he offered her an elbow. She took a deep breath and slid her arm into his. A familiar frisson swept up her arm and through her. Each day when he walked her into Jubilee, she experienced the same thing. A war of physical attraction between her vow to remain indifferent to the sensual pull she felt for Gerritt and her wish to throw herself into his arms and demand he make love to her.
He is my employer and wishes to maintain a professional relationship. She’d found it necessary to remind herself of that fact several times every day.
Looking at her, a frown line appeared between his eyes. “I forgot to ask, do you ride? We’ll be taking a rather wild trail up to an old stamp mill. I’m afraid a carriage would never make it up there, it’s quite overgrown.”
“I do ride, if you could call staying on the back of the old nag on my husband’s farm riding.” She smiled at him. “I’m not proficient, though, and I don’t own a saddle.”
He nodded. “If you’re up to it, I have a fine little filly that would fit you perfectly. She’s sweet tempered and on horseback, we’ll see more of the countryside.”
They continued toward town in a companionable silence. She noticed he adjusted his long-legged pace to her shorter one.
He was a kind, understanding gentleman. The kind of employer she’d dreamed of finding when she worked so hard at her lessons at the business school.
And yet, every night she spent sleepless hours in her small bed at Mrs. McCauley’s, tormented by dreams of Gerritt’s hands on her naked body. She knew her thoughts were lascivious, lewd and quite unladylike. But knowing that couldn’t make them stop.
Even now she blushed at the memory and hoped Gerritt would ascribe her bright pink cheeks to the exertion of the walk into town.
They stopped in front of the boarding house and Gerritt released her elbow. “I’ll post the letter. The General Store is on my way to the mine office.” He held out a hand.
She pulled the letter from her bag. “I don’t mind doing it.”
“Nonsense,” he replied, taking the envelope from her gloved hand. “You’ve completed an excellent day of work. It’s not a bother for me to drop it off with the Postmaster.”
He leaned forward, the mischievous gleam back in his eyes. “I want you to get a good rest tonight, as we’ll be exerting ourselves tomorrow. I’ll bring the horses here at seven and we’ll be off on our adventure.”
Prudence didn’t take her gaze off him as he turned and strode down the wooden boardwalk to the General Store. Then she leaned against the doorway and took a deep breath.
She was quite sure that tonight she’d dream of an exertion with Gerritt that was most inappropriate. It was tricky to fight the attraction between them bec
ause of an artificial arrangement. If she didn’t need her job so much, she’d chuck it all, take Alma’s advice and force herself on the man. She’d make him deal with her, despite the consequences. It was a lovely fantasy but a useless dream.
Prudence did need this job and if she pushed her employer to act on their mutual attraction, it was possible she’d find herself headed back east. And that was exact the result she feared most.
She would be as self-contained, under control and professional as possible tomorrow. After all, it was an innocent picnic.
What could possibly happen?
Chapter Eleven
Cabin Fever
The sun splashed her face as she gazed at the clear blue sky spread above them. It promised to be a delightful day for their picnic.
When Alma handed Gerritt a woven straw picnic basket, she grinned at Prudence with a sly look in her eyes. Her lips spread into an impish grin. “Seems like the kinda day when a girl could lose her good sense and do something wild.”
Prudence returned her look with a pinched smile. “I plan to help Professor Rhinehart have a day without any worries about his projects or the mines.”
“Um-hum,” the older woman had answered. “Like I said, quit bein’ so damned practical and enjoy yourselves.”
As they guided their horses out of town, the birds trumpeted with the pure joy of announcing the early days of summer. The scent of pine made Prudence think of the times she’d been in Gerritt’s arms.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Up into the hills to Silver Creek. There’s an old stamp mill up there I want to take a look at, to see what kind of condition it’s in.” He gave her a lazy smile that made her heartbeat speed up and her mouth go dry as sagebrush rolling across arid land.
“I thought bringing you along would be a great way to combine business with some pleasure.”
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