A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1)

by Janelle Daniels

  And now this.

  She was a fool. And she would be twice the fool if she kept her heart open to him. A man who dallies with other women wasn’t worth her time. She knew that. Believed that.

  No matter how much she cared for Sawyer, she couldn't do this, wouldn't allow him to trample over her heart and be unfaithful to her. If he behaved this way now, how would he act if things got more serious between them? If they married?

  Her gut clenched at the thought, and she mounted her horse. Although how she managed it when her heart splintered in her chest was beyond her.

  She'd known she cared for Sawyer. She just hadn't known she was in love with him.

  Chapter 12

  "What do you mean Clara's in the mine?" Sawyer asked Belle from the porch when she blocked him from entering.

  "I thought I was clear. We've no need of your help. We're working the mine ourselves."

  Sawyer had no words. Literally. He alternated between wanting to threaten, throw up his hands, shake the woman, and chase down Clara. The latter won. "We'll see about that."

  He launched on his horse and didn't slow his mount until he was at the mine.

  "Clara! Clara!" He yelled from outside but doubted she was in the front and able to hear him.

  He'd have to go in after her.

  Cursing, he tied his horse to a post, next to hers, and strode over to the supplies laid out. He lit an enclosed lamp, swearing again when the match singed his finger.

  That woman would answer for this. Didn't she know how dangerous mining alone was? He'd explained that to her, to them all. That even if they decided to work, they should have someone with them at all times.

  Besides that, after the lesson, he’d told her he'd find someone to work it. What had possessed her to do such a thing? To jeopardize her safety?

  "Clara?" He called out and heard her voice echoing a response. He followed the sound until he found her, her chin notched up, proud, regardless of the cute dirt patches smeared on her cheek and clothes.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Alone? I told you it wasn't safe. What possessed you to take such a risk?"

  It took everything in his willpower to keep his hands to himself instead of wrapping them around her body and hauling her out of there.

  Her lips firmed. "What I do is no longer your concern, Sheriff."

  His mouth dropped open. "Sheriff? We're back to that? What on earth is going on?"

  "Nothing." She shrugged. "I just realized that the only people the women and I can count on are ourselves."

  He didn't recognize the combative woman in front of him. Not more than twenty-four hours earlier, everything was great. They’d had a plan. He'd even gotten Ronan to help. "What happened? Why are you doing this?"

  "I was in town yesterday afternoon. I saw you."

  "All right." He shook his head, still not understanding. "If you did, why didn't you come up to me? I would've helped you with whatever you needed."

  She laughed humorlessly. "Oh. I have no doubt of that. You seem to help all women equally."

  He slowly nodded at the truth of her words even if they felt like a trap. "I do. All women deserve help."

  "And is that what you were doing with that woman from the saloon?" She lashed out, her eyes blazing. "We're you helping her when you kissed her?"

  "What?" Sawyer reeled. "What are you talking about? I didn't kiss—" But then he remembered the incident with Katie.

  "You know what I'm talking about." She crossed her arms, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction. But he didn't think she'd appreciate him scooping her in his arms.

  "It's true, Katie did kiss me."

  "Ha!" She flung her arms in the air. "You admit it."

  "Now, hold on." When her arm flailed toward him, he gripped her hand to stop the slap, but he held her gently. "Katie did kiss me, but it wasn't what it looked like, nor did I want her to."

  "Sure. You were really fighting her off," she scoffed.

  He reached for her upper arms and pulled her closer. She didn't resist, but her body didn't meld into his like he'd come to savor. "She needed my protection from another man." When she tried to pull away, he held her close and forced her gaze to meet his. "A man who would've hurt her had she not pretended that she was already taken that night."

  She stilled, really listening to him so he continued, "I'm not involved with Katie, and I never have been. I've never had a relationship with any of the women in town. But they all know that I'll help them. I don't care if they're a rancher's wife, prostitute, or… mail-order bride."

  Silence filled the tunnel a moment before she tugged her hand from his. "Why should I believe you?" she asked softly.

  He didn't take offense. They didn't know enough about each other to trust blindly. But he wanted to know her. For her to know him. "Because you can. Ask anyone else around here, and they'll tell you the same thing."

  Her chin trembled before she turned away. Picking up her ax, she struck into the rock, dislodging chunks. "I want to. But it's hard."

  "Don't you mean scary? Trusting another is terrifying because it leaves you vulnerable."

  She finally nodded but didn't look back at him. "I'm not used to depending on others."

  "Not even your family?"

  "No. They were there, but I always had to take care of myself and usually several of my siblings. That's just how it was." She shrugged. "I didn't mind it. But it makes opening myself up to others difficult. I don't know if I can."

  "You won't know until you try."

  Her shoulders sagged, the ax falling low as his words penetrated. He wanted to go to her, to take her into his arms. But this had to be her choice. She had to choose to let him into her life. She had to choose to trust him. He could never force her to do so, and even if he tried and succeeded, he knew it'd never last.

  As if making up her mind, she nodded, hoisting the ax once more and jamming it into the wall a final time.

  A smile crept to his lips, but a sharp cracking sound had the hairs on his neck rising.

  The mine boomed.

  Eyes wild, he leaped forward and covered Clara's body with his own.

  A cloud of dust and rocks roared over them, slicing at his skin as the tunnel behind them collapsed. Clara screamed beneath him, and he prayed the collapse was localized and wouldn't set off a chain reaction throughout the whole mine.

  Stones continued to trickle from the ceiling, but after a few moments, he dared a look up, his breath heaving through gritty air.

  Fortunately, the lamp hadn't gone out, and he was able to see a little in the thick, dusty air. This tunnel was holding.

  For now.

  He looked down at Clara, tucked in a ball beneath him. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm not hurt." She coughed.

  He stood, wincing at a particularly deep cut on his arm. The fresh blood trickling down his arm was a stark contrast to his grubby clothes.

  He helped her stand. She looked around the tunnel with wide, scared eyes. He didn't blame her. Cave ins ended in death—if you were lucky. The bastards who were stuck in mines, surviving catastrophes only to suffocate or starve to death, they were the truly unlucky ones.

  "Are we going to die?"

  His lips firmed. "I won't lie to you. It'll be hard." Before she could panic he added, "But I'm going to do everything in my power to get us out of here." He shook her so her glassy eyes would focus on his. "Do you understand me? I'm going to get us out of here."

  He would. He didn't care what he had to do. He'd go to hell and back if it would save her life. He hadn't been able to save his parents, but he'd made it his life to protect others. And he would save hers.

  "How will we get out?” Hope lit in her eyes. "The others know I’m here. If I'm not home by dark, they'll come looking for me."

  "They know I'm here too."

  "They do?"

  "I stopped by the house first to find you."


  "Oh." She looked around again, and her eyes filled. "You came here for me." She nodded, and a tear slid down her cheek. "You're in here because of me. Because I was stupid."

  "No." He shook his head firmly. "You weren't stupid. You were mad. Hell, I would've been furious had I seen you kissing another man. For any reason."

  A watery smile crossed her lips. "You don't need to be nice to me. I might've killed you."

  Unable to see her sad, he leaned in quick, kissing her hard, and then took her hand. "We're not dead yet. Come on." He grabbed the lamp before tugging her deeper into the tunnel.

  "Where are we going? This can't be safe." She lifted her skirt hem before tripping over a rock.

  He eyed the dragging fabric, all sorts of things could happen to the yards of material in a mine. It could catch fire, cover rocks so she'd lose her footing, or even snag something it shouldn't. "Why don't you tie your skirts up like you did at the river? It could prevent something bad from happening."

  "You mean," she said before pushing the fabric through her legs and bringing it around to tie in front, "like a cave in? Done that. And my skirts didn't cause that."

  "Very funny."

  "You really think you can get us out of here?"

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  He looked down the tunnel. "Ivan might've been crazy, but he wasn't stupid. He knew about the dangers of mining as well as anyone. He'd have had another entrance into the mine."

  She gasped, then coughed. "Really? You think?"

  "Yes." But he couldn't let her rest all of her hopes on something hypothetical. "But even if he didn't, we'll find a way out."

  She nodded before he took her hand again and walked down the tunnel.

  Rocks occasionally fell from the ceiling, but it looked like the structure would hold. Hopefully.

  After ten minutes of silence, Clara spoke. "Why did you come? To find me," she added.

  "I came to tell you that I found someone to work for you." He glanced back at her a moment before continuing on.

  "You did?" She sounded relieved. "I'm glad. After this, I'm never setting foot in a mine again."

  He chuckled. He couldn't say he relished the thought of heading back in any time soon either.

  "Who is he?"

  "His name is Ronan Briggs. He's…" What could he say? He's a gambler that loses big sometimes. He's a recluse who's almost more gunfighter than miner. I saved his life. "He knows how to mine."

  She snorted, but he couldn't tell if it was from the dust or her response to his statement. "Why isn't he working his own then?"

  "His paid out already."

  "Oh." She seemed to mull that information over. "That's nice of him to do it then."

  He winced. He couldn't have Clara thinking Ronan was doing it out of the kindness of his heart. "I wouldn't say he was being nice, exactly."

  She stopped their progress and forced him to meet her eyes in the dimly lit passage.

  "What do you mean he wasn't being nice? He didn't want to do it?"

  "Not exactly," he hedged.

  "Well, what exactly did he or didn’t he want to do?"

  "He didn't want to help."

  She frowned. "And you convinced him? How?"

  "I called in a debt."

  Her mouth fell open. "A debt? Can't we find someone else who’s a little more willing? I think with the right person, they'd be motivated just by the money."

  Sawyer shook his head vehemently. This is where she was wrong. Dead wrong. "That is not the kind of person you want working for you."

  "The motivated kind?"

  "The kind who will rob you blind."

  She seemed to mull that over. "I see."

  He nodded, grateful that she did. "A lot of men would take advantage of the situation."

  "And you don't think Ronan will?"

  "No." That was something he'd bet his life on. "He has his downsides, but he's always been honest, and he has enough money of his own that he won't need to take yours."

  "Okay. If you say he's the right choice, I trust you."

  It was amazing how just a few words could change you inside. Hearing her say she believed in him, that she was putting something so important in his hands, filled him with pride.

  She made him feel strong. "Thank you."

  About ten minutes later, they smelled fresh air. Their steps picked up speed until they flew out of the dank mine and into twilight.

  Sucking in rough breaths of air, he pulled her into his arms and just held her.

  Tight.

  Fitted.

  Right.

  Her body melted into his until they were almost one.

  Her chest heaved in tandem with his as grateful lungs pulled in clean air. As their hearts filled with relief.

  They were alive. They were unharmed. They'd survived.

  Together.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, unwilling to release her even an inch to check for himself.

  Her chin nodded against his throat as she nuzzled there. "Yes. A bit dirty, but fine."

  He chuckled, somehow able to find humor in the situation only moments after they'd freed themselves. "You'll recover from that."

  They held each other in silence a moment longer.

  This could've ended so differently. He recognized that. And for the first time, allowed himself to fully feel the after effects of what had just happened.

  He held her a little tighter, only loosening his grip when she squirmed.

  "Sorry."

  "It's okay." She leaned back to look into his eyes. "We really are okay."

  He reached up and held the hand she'd lifted to his cheek. He pressed it more firmly against him a moment before turning his head and kissing it. "We should get you home. The others will be worried."

  She nodded.

  But that's not what he wanted to do. He wanted to cart her away, take her somewhere where they could be together. Where he could fill himself on her sweetness, her scent.

  He wanted to be with her. Alone.

  After coming so close to losing her, he realized one very large thing.

  He loved her.

  He always thought love would knock him over the head like a mine blast, but it hadn't. It had come on gradually, slowly pulling him in like thick, sticky molasses.

  And he wanted to gorge himself on it.

  She was everything he'd hoped for in a woman. Not that he'd planned on having one. Quite the opposite. The life of a sheriff was dangerous, and he would never purposefully tie himself to a woman who could be hurt from his line of work.

  But he never had a choice. Not from the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

  Now, all he had to do was convince her that out of all the men in town, he was the one she wanted.

  Chapter 13

  Sawyer wasn't thrilled to go back up to the mine the next day, but it was best if Ronan started working right away. The sooner he pulled out gold, the better.

  Sawyer had told Ronan about the cave in, and they'd both agreed that determining the mine's state and adding additional supports for safety were the first things to be done.

  Arriving at the mine, they dismounted and tied their horses to the post.

  "If the entrance isn't salvageable, we'll need to make sure there's two exits. I don't want you to take any chances," Sawyer said.

  Ronan grunted. "Believe me. I won't." He patted his mount and fed him something from his pocket before giving Sawyer his full attention.

  The way Ronan cared for his animal spoke more about who he was as a person than anything Sawyer had heard about him. His gelding was meticulously groomed and had no marks on its flanks. And Sawyer had heard the man offer praise to his animal under his breath on more than one occasion.

  If Sawyer had to guess, Ronan wasn't as big and bad as his reputation suggested. He certainly hadn't killed anyone since he'd known him. Although he was quick to draw his weapon. Sawyer could hardly blame him there, though.

  More often than not, people drew a
gainst him. Couldn't condemn a man for self-defense.

  They approached the front of the mine, and Ronan whistled at the mess. "Doesn't look good."

  Sawyer frowned, kicking a small rock to the side as he got closer to the pile of boulders at the mouth. "No it doesn't."

  Ronan nodded toward the mining supplies. Many of the lanterns were broken and several of the pick axes and sledge hammers were damaged. "Don't look like we'll be able to reuse a lot of that."

  The tools wouldn't be a problem to replace. But damn it. What had caused such an accident? He'd replayed the moment before the cave in over and over in his mind the night before, and none of it made any sense. From what he could tell, Clara hadn't wedged the ax in any deeper than normal. There weren’t any open flames, and she hadn't hit any of the beams or done anything else that would set it off. None of it made sense.

  "Sawyer, you'll want to come over and see this."

  Ronan stared at something on the ground on the opposite side of the plugged tunnel. "What'd you find?"

  Ronan nodded to a piece of timber on the ground. "See that?"

  Sawyer stared at the cleanly cut wooden support on the ground before swearing viciously.

  Ronan nodded. "Who would do this?"

  That's what Sawyer wanted to know. Who would purposely cut the supports to cause a cave in? To kill whoever was inside. Or perhaps not kill someone, but just cripple the mine? "I don't know."

  "This changes things."

  It did. This one piece of wood changed everything. Because what Sawyer had believed to be an accident, was actually sabotage.

  And he intended to find the person who dared put Clara's life in danger.

  Clara was still shaken up the day after the cave in. Several of the women tried to talk her into staying in bed, but she wasn't having it. "I'm fine. Really. Besides, there are things to do."

  Olivia shook her head. "Absolutely not. There's nothing more important than you resting today. Everything else can wait." She pushed Clara back on the sofa in her room.

  In truth, Clara had thought Olivia was too gentle to boss anyone around, but right now, she was doing a fair impression of General Custer.