“I find people tend to need looking after whenever I’m around. It’s a natural reaction to want to help.”
“Not all people find helping others an important aspect of life.”
“Would that all people believed life was worth protecting, then maybe the world wouldn’t be in a constant state of turmoil.” The lines on his face grew taut. The look not one to encourage a romantic moment like that in the meadow.
Her rapid heartbeat slowed. What sort of woman would she be if she encouraged him to kiss her again when he was beyond her reach? Keep it together, Beth. Focus on why you came. “I can’t argue with logic so profound. It’s endearing.”
“Most people don’t think me endearing.” He poked at the fire with a stick. “The only people who enjoy my company are my servants and my team. I tend to put others off. I can be a bit controlling at times.”
“You don’t say.” She playfully bumped him with her shoulder. “Some people need a firm hand to guide them.”
He gave a slow smile, and his eyes clouded as if he harbored a secret. He flexed his hand and grasped it with his other. “Do you need a firm hand to guide you?”
“What do you think?” Oh, God. What was she doing? Leave it be, Beth.
“I think you do. You need someone who can guide you, but let you be who you are without getting into trouble.”
Silence flowed like molasses in winter between them until Garrett stood and walked to the other side of the fire. The only sound she heard was the rushing of her blood past her ears. Why couldn’t she forget the way his lips felt over hers, or the strength of his hands as he carried her down the mountain? Maybe she was a ninny after all. Just like Victoria and the rest of the husband-hunting women back in Missoula.
Garrett ran his hands through his hair, and turned to face her. “About the other day at Mother Goose’s Cottage.”
He stopped talking so she waited patiently for him to continue. Her heart pounded in response. The other day she’d wanted the kiss. The one memory carried her through the pain of the last few days with Victoria dogging Garrett’s every move in camp. She was lost.
Garrett studied the ground and then the treetops, but remained silent.
“Yes,” she prompted, not knowing what she wanted him to say. He loved her? He was sorry, and to move on? Something.
“Why haven’t you said anything to me about the incident? I thought you would have at least slapped me or berated me, told your brother and had him challenge me. It was a mistake to kiss you. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to feel you beneath my hands. Taste your mouth.” He took a step closer. “I still feel that need. The urge was too great last time, but you have to prevent this from ever happening again. I don’t know if I can stay away from you like I know I must.”
“Oh.” Her breath grew shallow. What was she to respond to such a statement? How could she stop him when she didn’t even want to? The kiss had been like a boot to the gut, but in a pleasant way. Until Victoria had shown up. When she’d laid eyes on the buxom blonde, an unpleasant heel—like the one Victoria wore when she got off the train—slammed into her gut. “By the tone of your voice, I thought you were going to apologize like men are apt to do in such circumstances.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I didn’t think it appropriate to interfere with you and Victoria. I’m not that kind of woman.”
He drew back and creased his eyebrows. “Victoria?”
“Yes, Victoria.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Beth. Victoria and I are more like brother and sister. We’ve known each other since we were knee high in knickers. Victoria is no more in love with me than I am with her. I can promise you that.”
“But yet you are set to marry her anyway.”
“Who told you that?”
“Victoria.”
Garrett collapsed down on the log next to her and quietly cursed. Her heart mimicked the movement and slid to her stomach. By the way his shoulders sank, Victoria told the truth. “I’m sorry, Beth. It’s my father’s arrangement. I wasn’t convinced that’s what she was sent up here for, but if Victoria believes so then it’s true. She is my intended.”
“She seems to be a bit more enthusiastic about the arrangement than you.”
“I agreed to a business deal, that’s all.”
“Business deal, or no, Victoria is smitten to the core.”
“She is a sweet girl, but lives in her own world full of fancy parties and fine things. She doesn’t know what she wants, and never will.”
Beth made no attempt to argue. It was commonly known among the women of Missoula that a man could no more ascertain the feelings of a woman than he could the source of the sun’s heat. It was more likely that Victoria had feelings for the intense man before her, but that he didn’t know. Even though a light shone brighter in Beth every time he looked at her the way he did right now, she couldn’t compromise herself if destiny had another plan for Garrett.
Could she?
Chapter 11
“Don’t do it, Garrett.” Aunt June rested her fists on her ample hips. “You’ve already taken your uncle Marcus in twice and what has it gotten you? Wrinkles and a drained bank account.”
“I don’t have wrinkles, and my bank account is fine.” Garrett paced in front of Aunt June and Victoria as they stood before the doorway of the cook cabin. It had been an hour since he returned with Beth and handed her over to her brother’s care, only to learn that his troublesome relative decided to prevail upon Garrett’s life once again. As if he didn’t have enough problems.
“Yes, well, my bank account is not,” Aunt June snapped. “Your father refuses to take your uncle back, and I refuse to let him into my home again.”
“If I don’t give him a place to stay then he will be homeless.”
“Aunt June is right, Garrett.” Victoria took a step closer and looped her arm through his, peering up at him with a look of concern. Her voice conveyed a sardonic calm, as if she were a mother quietly persuading a hard-case child. “Your uncle is nothing but a deadbeat bunko artist. He’s a genius at getting everyone else to support his lifestyle.”
Garrett looked over to where his uncle leaned against a tree and chatted with Carrie. Garrett knew that posture. It was his, ‘No woman can resist me,’ stance. In his gray-haired, flabby-skinned state of being, he somehow managed to believe that he was the stallion of the barn, even though he hadn’t shaved or had a shower in at least a month.
Carrie stood in front of his uncle like a rigid statue while he oozed all the charm of an ungreased wagon wheel.
“He’s family. You outa know, Aunt June, he’s your brother.” Garrett watched his uncle as the old reprobate brushed up against Carrie’s bodice. The poor woman cringed and took a step back. Garrett dropped his gaze to the pebbled ground in shame and then to Aunt June. “Unfortunately for both of us, we have to help out family, no matter what.”
“Ain’t true.” Aunt June furrowed her brows even deeper. “I gave up on him a long time ago.”
With a quick whistle, Garrett made eye contact with his uncle and raised his head to call him over. At least he could save Beth’s poor friend, Carrie, from an uncomfortable situation.
The old man trotted toward them and then slid to a stop. “Did you see that woman over there? Whew, what a fine specimen.” He eyeballed Carrie and then turned his attention back to Garrett. “She said she wasn’t being courted.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” Garrett let out, knowing full well what his uncle meant. “Perhaps Simon could show her around.” Garrett turned to Aunt June, and shuffled her a few feet away from his uncle so they wouldn’t be overheard “Where is he?”
“Off causing trouble, no doubt.” Her dimples showed when she gave a grin—a feature that at one time in her life had been her greatest asset, and maybe still was. She claimed a
past of charm and beauty, and said a coy smile and fluttered lash never failed to get her a dance or stroll with the most sought after gentlemen of her time. Alas, she had chosen a life of adventure over love. Even now, with the inheritance left her by her parents long ago, she could retire to the city and fall in love or simply exist in peace, but she chose to stay here and cook for the lumberjacks. She reminded him a lot of Elizabeth with her carefree independence, and penchant for trouble.
“I think you like my friend, Aunt June.”
She sighed. “If only I were thirty years younger. I’d wrangle Simon and make him a decent man. I suppose I’ll have to settle with picking up Marcus from the gutter every year or two.”
“If you’re done with me, then. I’ll be over talking to the womenfolk,” Marcus called, and took a step toward Carrie.
Aunt June stomped over and slapped his uncle on the back of the head when he ogled Carrie once more. “My goddaughter is off limits to you.”
Marcus snapped his head away from Aunt June’s hand, and flinched toward her with fist clenched, but caught himself. He scowled. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Or what?” She stepped forward and glared. “You’ll hit me back like you did your sons when they were boys? You lay a hand on my goddaughter, whether in anger or lust, and I’ll hang your man parts from a tree branch…with or without the rest of you still attached.”
“Aunt June,” Garrett scolded, shocked at such language from the matriarch. “Marcus is a changed man, for the most part. He hasn’t laid a finger on anyone since. Besides, he always ensured the boys were taken care of.”
“You can’t be serious, Garrett!” Aunt June turned an icy stare on him. “Are you defending him?”
“No…no.” He shook his head. No way was he defending his lowlife of an uncle. Ever since Garrett was younger, he’d always seen through his uncle’s greasy charm and straight to the drunken fool he truly was. “I’m simply trying to calm the situation.”
“You’re playing advocatus diaboli. Don’t,” Aunt June said. “He doesn’t deserve your respect, or your good will. He is bane to our family and a scallywag to the rest of the world.”
He gently grabbed Aunt June’s arm to escort her to the edge of the cabin in secrecy.
“Ah, taking her to task are you, Garrett. Good lad,” Marcus sneered. “Take a switch to her. God knows Mama never did.”
“You know nothing about Mama. You never did.” Aunt June pivoted as if to flay Marcus, but Garrett caught her around the waist and urged her to twist back around.
“I’m not playing the devil’s advocate. I’m trying to ease my own conscience. If I let him go without a home and something happens to him, it’s on my head. At least this way if he messes up, I can feel comfort knowing I did my part.”
“You’re making a mistake, but you were always one to do things your own way. Just know that I won’t have anything to do with him. He can find his own meals. He’s not welcome at my table.”
Garrett agreed. If that’s what it took to keep the peace, then his uncle would have to find his own food. They were in God’s country, there was food ripe for the picking…or shooting. “I’ll let him know.”
They returned to the group where his uncle fidgeted uncomfortably. “Where shall I put my things?”
“There’s an empty bunk in the first cabin on the right. I’ll show you.” Garrett flipped his hand for his uncle to follow and headed in the direction of the loggers’ cabins. God. How in the world did this season get so out of control?
Marcus stepped closer as he struggled to keep step. “Hey, Gar, I met a man in Bonner who works for another logging company. He’s a good guy. We got to talking about this wood business. Did you know he’s been traveling around the countryside from job to job? Can’t seem to keep in one place for more than a season on account of all the crooked sheriffs and such. He’d been in a few scrapes, but he’s a really good guy.”
“Is there a point to this story?”
“Yeah. Could you maybe take him on as well? He was sayin’ that he wasn’t happy where he is.”
“I don’t make that call. Paul Smith does. I don’t even think I can keep you on. I’ll let you stay until I can get word to Paul. He will have to make the decision. If your friend wants a job he can apply at the mill.”
Marcus fell silent long enough to draw Garrett’s attention. He followed the path with his eyes cast to the ground and face scrunched in concentration. Garrett knew that look. He sported it whenever he was plotting something. There was no telling what, though.
Garrett opened the door to the only cabin with extra bunk space. “You can stay in here. There’s a spare bed in the corner. Until I talk to Paul, you’ll have to work with the timber beasts. You can go talk to Simon after you’re done and see where he can put you to work.”
“Much obliged.” Marcus tipped his worn-out cap and tossed his small bag on the bed.
Garrett left before he could ask for anything else. He stretched his neck and shoulders to ease the tension that had spread since his uncle had rode in on the tired old mule. With all his earthly belongings in the saddle packs, Marcus had no doubt come confident he could stay at the camp. No surprise there. No matter who he prevailed upon, he was confident they would provide for his necessities, and he laid guilt on anyone who denied him.
Garrett entered the camp. The mule sat where Marcus had left him—reins dangling in the mud.
“Can someone take care of that animal? I think Teddy has room in his stalls.” Garrett shouted to the small group of men gathered around the cook fire waiting for the evening meal. God knows his uncle hadn’t planned on taking care of his own mount.
He glanced around for the train conductor and found him in the midst of a group of men deep in conversation. Garrett hailed him over. He jotted down a note about his Uncle Marcus with the stub of pencil he kept in his breast pocket, and held out the supply list and the letter he’d written to the mill about Jessip. He’d opted to wait until he knew the Bonner logger was legit, but he could wait no longer to send it. “Can you take this to the mill when you leave? Wait for them to bring the supplies, and don’t come back without them.”
“Sure thing, Gar.” The conductor shoved the letters in the inner pocket of his jacket, and then turned back to his group.
Garrett massaged the knot that formed at the base of his skull. He needed to relax, and there was only one thing that could make it happen.
He gave a quick scan of the camp for any sign of Simon and Beth. He wouldn’t try to kiss her again—he couldn’t lead her to believe they had a future together—but he needed to be close to her. Perhaps even steal a touch. The mere smell of her freshly washed hair made the mountains grow peaceful once more. The adventurous spark in her eye made him relish the moments he had left in the camp. The warmth of her body near his made him feel whole. She brought peace to his threadbare soul.
* * * *
“Are you certain Garrett said to meet him out here?” Beth balanced on the rounded trunk of the log beneath her as it teetered. She slipped, but caught herself before she tumbled into the lake. Something felt off about this whole situation.
Luther jumped from log to log next to her like a frog on a lily pad. “Yep. He said to help you out here and tell you to wait near the boom logs. He’ll be down in a bit.”
“Do you know what training he has planned?”
“It’s a…a lesson in balance.” His face twitched, and he studied the clouds, the tree line across the lake, and the log beneath his feet. Anything, it seemed, but her. Why was he so wary? There’s no way he could know her secret, right? He fidgeted. “So’s you can ride a log without falling into the rapids.”
“How long until Garrett gets here? It’s starting to get dark. I can’t imagine we’ll go out on the water tonight. Why did he send you to get me? You aren’t a riverman.”
Luther’s
faced turned red, and his chest swelled with a deep breath. “Just pick a log along the edge and get settled. He’ll be there shortly.”
She picked her way across the wood strewn pond and chose a log that looked as if she could straddle it without problem. Dipping her legs into the water on either side, she wiggled back and forth to settle into her seat.
She studied the horizon from her new level as she teetered on the log that seemed to want to do nothing more than roll over. The tree line where Garrett had taken her to bathe earlier looked even farther away from this vantage point. She’d wanted him to kiss her again while they were tucked away in a secret place. He sent a tingle down her spine and flutters in her stomach whenever he looked at her the way he had next to the fire. For a moment, she’d truly believed he would kiss her. She’d even prepared to attempt to deny him like he requested, but then he’d backed away and stood to ready the boat. Much to her disappointment and relief.
Luther moved behind her and growled, “I don’t understand why you got the riverman position. You’re built like a piece of prairie grass after a dry summer. No meat on your bones.”
The log wiggled, and she clamped down with her thighs and clung to the trunk with her hands. After struggling for a few minutes to stay upright, she finally gained her balance and glanced over her shoulder to Luther, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The log shifted, and she turned toward the boom logs just as her log broke free and floated out of the raft into open water.
“Luther!” she shouted and frantically searched the logs where she thought he stood, only to witness the side-winding snake vanish around a bend in the trail leading to camp. The log teetered again, and panic stuck in her throat like a ball of molasses.
“Blast!” She scrunched her nose at the foul expression. It somehow felt wrong on her tongue, yet seemed to be the perfect word for her situation. What in the blazes am I going to do now? I don’t even have a paddle.
Another glance back, and the shoreline grew distant. The log angled toward the mouth of the river and grew parallel to the shore far enough out that she couldn’t swim to safety. The trail of logs behind her made her want to cry when she realized the current held her tight in its grips.
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