by Jody Hedlund
“I’m planning to have callers from time to time.” She couldn’t meet with men at the laundry. But perhaps she could arrange to visit with them at one of the eating establishments, giving them each an equal slot of time. Such an arrangement would allow her to get to know the men slowly and carefully. “If you promise not to cause any more trouble for Mr. Hart, I suppose it’d be alright for you to come calling along with the others.”
“Really?”
“I cannot promise anything. But at the very least, maybe we can part ways as friends.”
“Thank you, Miss Millington.” The exhaustion in Herbert’s face fell away, replaced by earnestness. “You won’t be sorry.”
She hoped he was right and prayed she hadn’t made another mistake.
EIGHT
PUTNAM RECLINED IN his chair and shoved the sheet of figures away. “No, Hart. It won’t work.”
Zeke tore his gaze from the door and focused on the two men squeezed into the tight confines of the office at the back of Putnam’s Tavern. Hard as it was, he had to keep his attention on the meeting instead of thinking about what might be transpiring several businesses down at J. D.’s Pub.
“I’ve had my accountant review the numbers several times.” Putnam rubbed a hand across his graying sideburns. “As much as I want to support you, we just don’t have the financing to back the project.”
Putnam, a Yank, was the more talkative of the mining board members and more strongly opinionated. Sometimes his pride was about as big as his mammoth frame.
Blake, on the other hand, was only half the size of Putnam’s shadow. Zeke had expected Blake to be more aggressive, especially since he had fiery red hair, but he was unnaturally quiet most of the time. He was English, like Zeke, and had left his family behind in Wales. While he faithfully sent proceeds from his mine home to his wife and four children, he’d been hesitant to pay for their passage to the colony, always having one excuse or another for why he hadn’t yet made a home for them in Williamsville.
Zeke twisted his cigar, which was no longer burning and had turned soggy.
Putnam opened the box on his writing desk, retrieved a fresh cigar, and held it to Zeke.
Zeke shook his head.
Putnam then offered it to Blake who held up a hand and also declined. The Yank lifted one shoulder in a shrug and then lit the butt and took a drag. As he exhaled, the puff of smoke rose into the already-stale air.
Usually, Zeke held the board meetings in his store where they had more space to spread out and the ability to get input from miners who were always lingering. But in the week since his place had been wrecked, the store still wasn’t put back together completely.
He could admit he’d dragged out the cleanup. With Kate coming over to the store most evenings offering to help him, ’course he’d taken longer. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want an excuse to keep spending time with her? Yet, even after the hours they’d worked together that week talking and laughing and getting to know each other, it hadn’t been enough. He’d only wanted more.
He’d assumed she was feeling the same way, until he’d gotten word yesterday that she’d made plans to allow interested men to come courting at J. D.’s Pub.
“Now, if our mines were putting out as much as yours,” Putnam continued, “I’d be more willing to invest in the hospital.”
“I agree,” Blake added, his eyes containing a glimmer of jealousy. “Guess we can’t all be as lucky and rich.”
Zeke had been luckier than everyone else so far. But even if Putnam’s and Blake’s mines weren’t as productive, the two had done well for themselves compared to the many other miners who were fortunate to find just a handful of gold dust.
“Fine,” Zeke said. “Guess I’ll figure something else out.” Neither had cared about the hospital before and still didn’t. He’d either go at the project alone or abandon the idea until he could rally more interest.
At the bang of the tavern’s front door, his attention snapped to the main room, which had steadily grown busier throughout the evening as miners had ended their workdays.
The end of the workday also meant Kate was sitting in J. D.’s Pub waiting for men to come calling on her. At least Zeke hoped that’s all she was doing. Waiting. Alone. He’d done his best to discourage any would-be suitors from going, including Herb who claimed Kate had apologized and offered to see him again.
Zeke had wanted to confront Kate last night when the rumors reached him. But he’d been holed up in the mine until late, and by the time he returned to town, her guardian angel, Becca, answered his knock on the laundry door with a scowl and admonition to visit Kate in the daylight.
Instead of heading out to his mine today, he’d spent the majority of time visiting establishments around town and laying hints that Katherine Millington was off-limits and that no one better show up at J. D.’s Pub to call on her tonight.
Had anyone dared to go? What about Herb?
The guilt that had been nagging him all day reared up, reminding him he shouldn’t be abusing his power and influence. And yet, the excuses also reared up, telling him he had every right to protect Kate any way he could.
Zeke set his sights expectantly on the open door. He’d instructed Wendell to watch the pub and keep him updated on the happenings, but he hadn’t seen his assistant once. Zeke twirled the damp cigar between his thumb and forefinger, the motion imitating the twisting in his gut. Maybe he’d just have to go see for himself what Kate was doing.
It didn’t matter that after the first time she’d come to his house, she asked him to understand her need to go courting by herself without anyone—not even an older brother-like figure—assisting her. Fact was, she didn’t need to be spending time with so many eager young men without a chaperone. Or at least someone screening the candidates and telling her who to avoid.
Putnam took his cigar out of his mouth and knocked the ashes onto the floor. “I’m certainly willing to go ahead with the benefit supper if you still want to plan one.”
“I’m willing to get behind the benefit supper too,” Blake added.
’Course they both were, Zeke thought with a burst of frustration. His idea to hold a benefit supper for injured miners in need of aid wouldn’t cost them much—the total of providing the dinner and entertainment—with the proceeds going to those suffering the worst.
Though a hospital would benefit the community, especially in the long term, Zeke had to start slow. It had already been that way with his demands for setting into place mining regulations. He wanted all mine owners to institute safe practices that would protect their employees. He’d done so at his mine, including limiting the length of shifts and providing more initial training so new hires were more aware of the dangers. But not all the other owners had been as willing.
Zeke released a pent-up breath, and before he could direct the conversation into the planning of the benefit event, the front door of the tavern slammed again, and this time whistles and calls accompanied the newcomer.
Only the appearance of a woman could elicit that kind of response. It had to be Kate.
He jumped up from his chair. If she was here, then the men had taken his threats seriously and hadn’t called on her. No doubt she’d heard he had something to do with it. She was sure to be upset at him, at least at first. But she was too kindhearted to stay angry for long. At least, that’s what he was counting on.
As nonchalantly as possible, he ambled to the office doorway and leaned against the jamb. She was weaving around tables and already halfway across the room. The moment she saw him, her lips pursed tighter and her nostrils flared.
Her anger made her more beautiful than ever, which was a feat considering she was already pretty in a blue gown that highlighted her fair skin and her graceful curves. Her blond hair was in a partial updo with the rest cascading down her back. She’d clearly prepared for callers by dressing up.
“Zeke Hart,” she said, her brown eyes flashing. “I need to speak with you.”
> “I’m all yours.” He continued his casual pose, hoping his voice didn’t betray his eagerness to see her.
“No one came to call on me.”
“Good.” That’s exactly what he’d hoped would happen.
She halted several feet away. “You told me you wouldn’t interfere with my courtship process.”
“Said I’d try, but I also told you I wasn’t making any promises.”
The room had grown so silent he could hear the trickle of beer pouring from the tap in the hogshead into the mug the tavern manager was holding. As if recognizing the silence too, she glanced around. Every eye was upon them.
“Can we speak privately, please?” she said in a low voice, her cheeks flushing.
“’Course.” He straightened and waved toward a narrow hallway that led to the kitchen. “After you.”
She started down the passageway, her crisp steps punctuating frustration.
Once in the kitchen, she stopped and spun on him, her expression animated. At the sight of an older, stoop-shouldered man at the stove flipping fried chicken and staring at her, she closed her mouth, spun again, and aimed for the rear exit.
She stepped outside only to cover her mouth from the stench that emanated from the garbage heap beside the door. Having festered in the hot sun all day, the refuse not only stank but it buzzed, alive with black flies. At the sight of hordes of flies, she shrank back.
He took her arm and guided her a short distance away to the bottom of the hill behind the tavern. The area was riddled with stumps and dry, scorched grass. And although the backsides of the other businesses also emptied onto the hill, at least for the time being the area was deserted.
As they reached a safe distance from the trash, she lowered her hand from her mouth and took a deep breath.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
She jerked her arm free from his, but some of the fire was gone from her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“What?” Her eyes widened.
“Since you complimented me, I’m complimenting you back.”
The sparks disappeared from her eyes, replaced by amusement. “You’re too much.”
“Thank you. You’re too sweet.”
This time she laughed, a soft, lilting sound that eased the knot in his gut.
He smiled in response. He’d been right. She couldn’t stay angry, and he loved that about her.
She faced him, her smile growing. “There come those dimples. I’ve been waiting to see them. They’re adorable.”
“Now hold on,” he said playfully. “Adorable is the kind of compliment you give a babe, not a man.”
“Forgive me,” she responded just as playfully. “They’re very handsome. Is that better?”
“Aye. Much.”
She surprised him by reaching up and fingering first one dimple, then the other. Her touch was feathery but like fire, searing across his nerve endings and skimming down his body.
He reacted without thinking, lifting his hand to her cheek and drawing a line down to her chin.
At his touch, she stalled, her hand still on his cheek, her eyes fixed with his. The brown held questions but also darkened with a desire that sent more heat charging through him. Their interactions all week while cleaning up the store had been strictly platonic. Zeke had been on his best behavior. Even so, he hadn’t been able to dampen his initial attraction. And he didn’t think he was wrong in assuming she felt something for him. He couldn’t be.
Bolstered by her reaction, he glided his fingers up to her other cheek. Her breath quickened, causing her chest to rise and fall more rapidly.
Her skin was smooth beneath his calloused fingers, and he wanted to feel more of her. He let himself explore her cheek, her earlobe, and then down her neck. Each silken inch only awakened within him a deeper craving for more of her.
The problem was he didn’t have a right to satisfy his hunger, not now when she wasn’t his. Doing so would be selfish on his part.
His fingers stalled at Kate’s collarbone.
Her hand dropped away from his face and rested on his shoulder, her touch as expectant as her eyes.
“I threatened all the other men,” he whispered, “because I don’t want anyone else courting you.”
“You don’t?” Her face tilted up. Her lips were slightly parted, and her breath gently ragged.
What would it be like to kiss her? To take those lips captive and give her a taste of pleasure? “The only one I want you courting”—he forced his attention back to her eyes—“is me.”
Once the words were out, he knew they were true. From the second he’d set his sights upon her, he’d been enamored. The minute he realized who she was, he’d been even more attracted. And with every passing day she was in Williamsville, he thought about her so often he could hardly focus on anything else.
Her lips curved into a smile that moved up to her eyes, causing his heartbeat to do a strange leap followed by a somersault. Never in his wildest dreams had he believed he’d find a woman like Kate.
He slipped his hands to the small of her back, tempted to draw her closer, but he held himself at a distance for fear of scaring her away. From everything he’d witnessed so far about her, he sensed he needed to move slowly.
Her smile wobbled, then began to dissolve. Before he could figure out how to maintain their tentative connection, she stepped back, breaking his hold.
Her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Zeke.”
“Sorry for what?” He started to reach for her, but she slipped farther away.
“While growing up, I always adored you.”
Her admission should have reassured him, but the sadness filling her eyes unsettled him.
“I thought you were the handsomest boy alive on earth.” Her smile turned sad, too. “And I dreamed about this day—the day you’d finally notice me.”
Was she upset he hadn’t paid attention to her in the past? Was that it? “I’m sorry too, Kate. I was a blind fool not to see how beautiful and kind you were. But I got mixed up in the wrong crowd my last few years in Manchester, and I lost track of a lot of important things.”
She shook her head. “I don’t blame you. Times were tough, and we all did what we had to do in order to survive.”
“I pulled away from Jeremiah and my other good friends. I even pulled away from Zoe.”
“If you’d liked me then, you probably would have pulled away from me too.”
“Probably. So see, maybe it’s a good thing I was a blind fool.”
She offered him a smile, but the joy was gone from it.
“Kate.” His voice turned haggard with a need for her he couldn’t hide. “I notice you now. And I like you. Isn’t that enough?”
At his bold admission, she dropped her gaze. For a second, she nibbled at her lip before pressing a hand over her chest as though attempting to stop her heart from beating. “I notice and like you too.” Her voice was low and wobbly.
“Then good.” Relief stole through his veins. “We want the same thing—”
“No—”
“Aye, we like each other. So why not court and see where this leads?”
“We can’t court.” Her words were laced with anguish. “As much as I want to, I can’t.”
“You’re willing to start courting other men. Why not me?”
She didn’t respond and kept her focus upon a thatch of blue-green wood reeds at her feet.
Suddenly, he was aware of the sun baking the back of his neck and the perspiration trickling down his spine. His wound had begun to throb, and the heat that remained from the August day radiated up from the ground and into the soles of his boots causing him to feel as though he were standing in a fiery pit roasting alive.
He wiped a sleeve across his brow. “Whatever it is, we can work it out, can’t we?”
“We can’t,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
His mind spun in an attempt to understand her refusal. She was scare
d. That had to be it. “Listen.” He worked to keep his tone calm and rational. “I know after calling things off with Herb you want to go slow. And I promise I won’t push you. We’ll take all the time we need. I’ll show you what a decent fellow I am.”
“I already know you’re a decent fellow, Zeke. You don’t have to prove it.”
“Then what? What’s holding you back?”
Her shoulders slumped. “It’s your lack of faith. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t share my faith in God.”
Faith? God? She didn’t want to be with him because he’d decided he didn’t need God or religion anymore? “That’s ridiculous.”
Her gaze shot up.
“You’re just making excuses is all.”
“No I’m not.”
“Aye, because you’re scared.”
“I am not scared.” She lifted her chin as though to prove it. “Even though I’ve always really liked you, I can’t be unequally yoked.”
“Unequally yoked,” he spat the words that came from the Bible, words their ragged school headmaster had told them meant that Christians weren’t supposed to marry those who didn’t share the faith. As much as he’d respected Mr. Lightness so long ago, Zeke had learned to think for himself. “Can you seriously tell me you’d have been equally yoked with Herb?”
“He isn’t perfect, but at least he hasn’t turned his back on God.”
“So you’d rather have a knife-stabbing, store-wrecking man who claims to follow God than an upright man like me who doesn’t pretend to have faith?”
“No, I’ve realized I don’t want to marry Mr. Frank either.”
“That’s why you told him he could call on you?”
She had the decency to blush. “I only did it because I felt sorry for him. But I have no intention of courting him.”
“Because, no doubt, you’re waiting for someone perfect to come along.” His words came out harsh and angry, but he couldn’t stop them.
She didn’t respond except to focus on the dried wood reeds again.
Zeke glared unseeingly up the hill to the high mountain peaks beyond, his insides churning with a frustration he didn’t understand.
