by Jody Hedlund
The man didn’t question her but moved to obey her orders. Zeke, on the other hand, was less obliging. “Don’t trouble yourself.” His eyes flew open. “I can wait for Doc.”
“Fiddlesticks.” She didn’t know much about Williamsville, but if it was anything like Victoria, the doctor would already be busy and might not be able to visit Zeke at a moment’s notice. “I had to remove a stake from Elijah’s foot once. This isn’t much different.”
“I remember Elijah,” Zeke said almost fondly, even as his breath came out in a puff.
“How comforting,” she teased, hoping to distract him from his pain. “At least now I know I’m the forgettable one in my family.”
“I didn’t forget you. Besides, Elijah could keep up with Jeremiah and me.”
“I guess you liked him better,” she teased again as she probed around his wound.
At the touch, Zeke flinched. “I can’t see how I would have.”
“Don’t worry. I understand. I always got in the way whenever I tried to join your adventures.”
“We did have plenty of adventures, didn’t we?”
“Aye.” Her designated assistant returned with the items she’d requested. As he held out the scissors with trembling hands, his spectacles slipped off and hung by one ear. His young face was pale and perspiring, and his pupils were dilated as if he were about to pass out.
Zeke took notice of the man’s condition. “I’ll be alright, Wendell.”
He attempted to hang his glasses, only hooking them behind his ear after the third attempt. “You sure, boss?”
“I’m sure.”
The young man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple rising and falling.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Kate added.
“At the very least, she promises not to kill me,” Zeke said in an apparent attempt to lighten the mood.
The young man blanched and swayed, Zeke’s words not comforting him.
“Oh dear.” Kate grabbed the man’s arms in time to keep him from buckling. Gently, she guided him to the chair next to Zeke’s. Once he was sitting, she maneuvered his head down. “Put your head between your legs and take some deep breaths.”
“How many?” He bent his head until it almost touched the floor.
“How many what?”
“Breaths.”
Kate paused in pressing against his back. “I don’t think it really matters.”
“Six, twelve, eighteen, or twenty-four?” the young man persisted in a muffled voice.
“At least thirty-six,” Zeke interjected dryly. “Maybe even forty-eight.”
“I’ll do forty-eight to be safe,” came another muffled reply.
Kate glanced between the two, and at the sight of Zeke’s lips lifting into a half-smile that revealed a dimple, she allowed herself to breathe and smile in return. “So, tell me about your favorite adventure with Jeremiah.”
As she worked cutting away Zeke’s shirt, she forced herself to ignore Zeke’s intense gaze following her every move, his muscular arms and chest, and the nearness of his mouth. Even if his smile and dimple hadn’t lasted long, she was entirely too conscious of the way his lips formed words and sentences, and the evenness of his breathing in spite of his pain.
Becca had pushed her way through the men who’d swarmed into the store and were crowding around Zeke. Becca shooed them back, so Kate had enough workspace and then issued additional orders in her no-nonsense way.
As Kate inspected and attempted to discover the unseen damage the blade had done in Zeke’s arm, she had to work harder to keep Zeke talking, especially as the pain intensified. From what she could tell, the blade had severed layers of skin and flesh but not much more.
Finally, after catching Becca’s attention and silently communicating the need for her assistance, Kate clutched the knife and jerked it out.
Zeke’s long lashes fell, and he pinched his lips closed.
Becca took the knife from Kate and handed her the rags. Immediately, Kate pressed the cloths against the wound to staunch the blood. She didn’t want to squeeze too hard and cause Zeke more pain, but she had to be sure he didn’t lose an excess of blood.
Without the knife acting as a cork, wet warmth seeped beneath her fingers as the blood flowed.
“I need to hold his artery here at the joint below,” Kate said to Becca as she slipped her hand above his elbow. “You tie a strip above the injury to slow down the blood loss from above.”
Becca used her teeth to tear a long strip from the bolt of material Zeke’s employee had brought them. Soon enough, she had the tourniquet tied tightly in place.
As Kate waited long minutes pinching the artery as well as the wound, she became aware of the store interior for the first time. It was a one-room log structure, each wall filled with shelves piled with every conceivable item the men in town might need—trousers and hats, axes and knives, cups and skillets, blankets and tarps, and numerous items Kate guessed had to do with mining.
The spicy smoke of cigars lingered in the air along with the metallic and musty scents of new goods mixing with the old. With a dusty front window letting in some natural light and a gas lantern hanging from a rafter, Kate tried to imagine Zeke working within the confines of the store day after day.
Was he happy here with the new life he’d built for himself?
As if hearing her unasked question, he opened his eyes and met her gaze. The green had turned dark and murky with his pain. Even so, something glittered in that green, something she’d thought she noticed there before. Desire.
Did Zeke Hart desire her?
The very idea sent warmth spiraling through her chest. After all the years of admiring him, was it possible he was finally admiring her in return?
She couldn’t tear her eyes away—didn’t want to break the connection for fear she’d never get it back. But even as his dark gaze held her captive, she remembered Zoe’s concerns, concerns that Zeke had turned his back on not only his family and friends but also on God. Kate had been the one to comfort Zoe on the day Zeke had walked out of the house and away from his faith.
Every day on the voyage from England, Kate had joined Zoe in praying for Zeke, that he’d make his peace with God and return to following Him. Had Zeke done so?
She held his gaze a moment longer, wishing she could see down to his soul, but then dropped her attention to his wound. She had no business letting herself become interested in a man who didn’t share her faith, particularly one who’d spurned God.
Whatever the case, after her broken engagement to Herbert, she couldn’t start another relationship without learning more about the man first. Perhaps that’s the mistake she’d made with Herbert. She’d moved too quickly after ending her engagement to James McCrea.
For her next suitor, she needed to be more careful, get to know him better, and be wiser in her choice. Maybe then she’d finally find the right man.
FOUR
“PLEASE, KATE.” ZEKE ambled next to her on the boardwalk. “I want you to stay at my house where you’ll be comfortable and safe.”
Darkness had fallen hours ago, bringing with it cooler air that provided relief from the high-altitude sunshine. The streets were alive with revelers, all the men who’d come down from the hills and nearby mines to sate their hunger and quench their thirst. Once again, in spite of the cover of nightfall, Kate was the center of attention, garnering whistles and calls.
He’d managed to keep her to himself at the store after everyone else had taken their leave. Becca had stayed, and Wendell had been there off and on, nearly passing out every time he glanced at the wound.
All the while Kate had tended Zeke, she’d distracted him by relaying news from home, as well as telling him about her voyage to British Columbia on the Robert Lowe. He’d also asked about her months living in Victoria and had found himself growing distressed as she talked about her engagements, first with a hotel proprietor and then with Herb.
Doc had arrived at the store not long after s
unset. By then, Kate and Becca had not only cleaned his wound but had also bandaged it. When Doc had looked at everything, he gave Kate a lecture about the dangers of removing puncturing objects and the chance of bleeding to death as a result.
Becca quickly rose to Kate’s defense and listed all the precautions they’d taken. Even so, Doc grumbled for the length of his visit, until he left after giving further instructions he knew Zeke would ignore.
Now Becca walked a short distance ahead of them, casting Zeke distrustful glances every few seconds as if she expected him to pick Kate up and run away with her. He guessed he’d been lousy at concealing his attraction.
Kate was too pretty for her own good. And his. Once again, he blamed the flaring interest on the fact that he’d gone too long without any women in his life—not since he’d left Manchester. Even then, his last months there had been filled with unemployment, hunger, and bitterness.
Regardless of what he was feeling, he owed it to Jeremiah to look after Kate. “My home is one of the newest in town and one of the few made of mill-cut boards rather than logs.”
“You know I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Kate replied as she had the other times he’d asked her to stay at his house. “But I need to get a job and find my own way.”
“’Course you can still get a job.” Zeke tried to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. “You’ll just have a safe place to stay is all.”
Would she be safe at his house with him? Even though he’d hired Mr. Peabody to manage his home and had given the older man the second floor as his living quarters, having Kate so close was only asking for trouble. And the last thing he wanted to do was dishonor her.
“I’ll be safe enough staying with Becca in the cabin behind the laundry.”
With the trouble he was having persuading Kate to live in his house, he’d sent Wendell out earlier to secure backup living arrangements for Becca and Kate. Lee Chung was stubborn, but he was also a shrewd businessman and hadn’t been able to turn down Zeke’s generous payment if he’d move out of his place and let the women live there instead. Wendell had also taken measures to have the women’s belongings transported to the cabin.
Even though living behind the laundry was better than renting a room at one of the taverns or boarding houses, Zeke didn’t have a good feeling about letting Kate go.
Several men stumbled out of a tavern onto the boardwalk, and Zeke placed a steadying hand on Kate’s arm to keep her from colliding with the group. As soon as they saw Kate, they ogled her. Zeke directed her around the men, glaring at each one. They’d better catch the hint not to bother Kate, or they’d have to answer to him.
“Lee’s place is a shack.” Zeke spat the words as they started across the street, dodging horse droppings and a moving wagon. He didn’t want Kate living in a shack. And he didn’t want her doing the hard labor of washing the dirty clothing that miners and other townspeople brought to the laundry. She deserved better.
Kate gave a pleasant, lilting laugh, one that reminded him of her sweet spirit and innocence. “I won’t mind living in a shack. You know what my home was like in Manchester. We never had much. But we had each other, and that’s what counted.”
“Amen,” Becca said over her shoulder.
Kate’s slum apartment had looked nearly identical to his family’s, only a building away. Their lives had also been nearly identical, both of them dealing with loss and poverty and hardship and lousy fathers. He was relieved she’d found a way to escape, like Zoe had. And he was relieved she was in a new place where she could have a better life.
He simply wanted to make sure her life was better. He had the means to help. In fact, he had more wealth and resources than he could use in his lifetime. And since he could ease her discomfort and provide for her, that’s what he wanted to do. If only he could convince her to let him.
“If you won’t live in my house, then let me build you your own place.”
She peered up at him, the moonlight highlighting her eyes filled with both surprise and amusement.
Did she think he was as pathetic and desperate for a woman as Herb? Maybe he was, but he didn’t want her to know it. “Just as a brother. That’s all. I’m only doing what Jeremiah would have done for Zoe if we’d switched places.”
“Jeremiah would have married Zoe if she’d given him the chance.” Though her tone was light, something serious edged her words.
“Are you saying I should marry you?” He tried to keep his tone as light as hers, but his muscles tightened in anticipation of her answer. He couldn’t possibly want to marry Kate, could he? She wasn’t exactly a stranger. But he didn’t know her anymore—if he ever really had. What was wrong with him to consider the possibility? Hadn’t he said earlier he wasn’t in the market for a wife?
Thankfully, she laughed at his question, sparing him the embarrassment of speaking—and perhaps proposing right on the spot. “I guess I should wait on getting married. After what happened with Mr. Frank, I need to stop rushing into relationships and take more time, so I can be sure I’m marrying the right man.”
“Good answer. But none of the men here will care one whit if you’re rushing.” He glared again at more miners passing by who were eyeing Kate with too much interest.
“Well, I care, especially after you got injured on account of my rushing.” Her expression was earnest, making her pretty face even more irresistible.
With the laundry only a dozen paces away, he halted. The motion sent fire racing from his wound down his arm, and he turned his face away from her to hide his grimace.
“Zeke?” She touched his uninjured arm lightly. “You should be home abed. I told you the pain would be unbearable even with the laudanum.”
Ahead, Becca paused underneath the Lee Chung Laundry sign. The windows of the laundry reflected the lantern light from inside, showing Lee still busy at work in front of one of his large tin tubs, scrubbing vigorously on a piece of linen. Lee often worked eighteen hours straight. Some nights his lantern burned until one or two in the morning.
The hardworking man could use the extra help. Just not from Kate.
Zeke forced down the pain and took a breath. “I’ll go home to bed if you promise to let me help you.”
“I’ve been managing on my own these past months just fine.” Her voice contained a gentle rebuke.
“I’ve got the means—”
“I can see that your general store has done well. But I can’t accept charity.”
His general store was a good investment. Wendell had been wise to direct him to open it. Providing supplies to miners was lucrative and brought in more income than his other businesses—the livery, the men’s boardinghouse, and the sawmill. Wendell had assured him that eventually the sawmill would generate even more income than his other businesses combined. But for now, nothing could compare to the success of his gold mine.
At the mining board meeting today with two other bosses, Putnam and Blake, he’d discussed the possibility of opening a hospital. Wendell, with his accounting smarts, didn’t consider a hospital a financially sound investment since they’d likely lose more money than they’d earn. But, as Zeke had said to the other men, since they’d been the lucky ones to strike it rich, didn’t they have the responsibility to take care of their community?
After despising the wealthy mill owners in Manchester for the calloused attitude toward him and their many other employees, Zeke wanted to be different, to take care of his workers, and to help Williamsville prosper. Unfortunately, Putnam and Blake didn’t share his vision, and half the time Zeke felt like he was striding upstream against the current.
“But I do thank you,” Kate continued. “You have a kind heart that you’re so willing to give from the little you have.”
Little? He opened his mouth to correct her, to explain that he was one of the wealthiest men in the colony. His mine was producing thousands of pounds of gold every week, even a year after he’d struck pay dirt.
But then he stopped. He didn’t w
ant to impress Kate with his newfound riches. Didn’t want to win her by his wealth. Not that he wanted to impress or to win Kate at all. But if he did, he wanted her to like him because of who he was and not for what he owned.
“Why’d you change your mind about marrying Herb?” His question tumbled out into the night air. Once there, he wished he could swat it away like he would the pesky mosquitoes that plagued them during the summer, especially when she focused her attention on the plank walkway beneath their feet and bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business—”
“No, it’s alright.” She toed a tobacco juice stain. “I don’t mind telling you.”
He waited, conscious that Becca was also listening, her expression interested, as though she, too, wanted to understand Kate’s decision today.
“I—” Kate started but paused. Then she raised her hands in an attitude of defeat. “Honestly, I don’t know why I changed my mind.”
Her confusion made him want to comfort her. He could only imagine the pressure she was under after having come over on one of the bride ships and being expected to pick a husband and get married.
“All I know is that I set off on this trip to Williamsville fully expecting to marry Herbert. But now that I’m here, I can’t go through with it.”
“Listen, if you’re uncertain, then you’re better off waiting than rushing into a marriage and living with regrets.”
She looked up and met his gaze. “Thank you.”
Warmth pooled inside him.
“I’m glad you’re here, Zeke.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it.
The touch of her fingers only stirred the warmth. He gave a gentle squeeze back, fighting the urge to hold on to her, and forcing himself instead to let go.
With a word of good night, she followed Becca inside the laundry.
Once the door closed, a blanket of darkness descended upon him. He frowned and stared for long moments at the laundry. His mind filled with images of his childhood, of Jeremiah’s easy smile and laughter, so much like Kate’s.
