by Judith Stacy
Amanda felt Jason’s gaze on her and hoped he was pleased by the reduction in her fee. She’d stayed up late last night talking to Meg, discussing the situation, figuring out expenses.
“I’ll conduct interviews this evening after supper,” Amanda said. “All of you who are interested, please see me then.”
She glanced at Jason, gave the crew a final smile, then left the cookhouse.
She was glad Jason had offered to discuss the hygiene issue with the men himself. But even outside, she heard Jason’s strong voice telling the men in no uncertain terms that they stunk and needed to learn some manners if they expected anybody to marry them.
At times Amanda envied men their freedom. They could do and say almost anything and get away with it, simply because they were men. No one expected them to behave in a certain way, to be demure, submissive, gentle and dignified. They could be irresponsible and footloose, if they chose, and not worry about their reputation. Something few women could do.
A few minutes later, the logging crew left the cookhouse and headed up the mountain. Jason followed them outside.
“How many bolted at the thought of bathing and manners?” Amanda asked.
Jason shook his head. “Not a one.”
“Good. That means I’ll need twenty-three wives. I’ll get to work immediately.”
Amanda started to leave, but turned back. “Oh, Mr. Kruger, one more thing. I’ll need a place to live, since it seems I’ll be here for a while now.”
“What’s wrong with Meg’s place?”
“It’s a little cramped. And it’s really not fair that I should disrupt her and Todd’s living arrangements.” Amanda pointed to the cabins scattered across the hillside behind Meg’s house. “I noted one of those little houses is empty. Would it be all right if I moved in?”
Jason shook his head. “Miss Pierce, I already told you work comes first around here. Nobody has lived in that cabin for months. I can’t spare any of my crew to help you.”
Amanda’s shoulders squared. “Did I ask you for any help, Mr. Kruger?”
“Well, no. But that cabin is filthy. You can’t—”
“It’s not up to you to tell me what I can or can’t do, Mr. Kruger. You may own this mountain, but you don’t own me.”
The little challenge in her upturned face sent a charge through Jason. Nobody defied him on his mountain. Nobody. And here was Miss Amanda Pierce doing just that—again. His whole body crackled with a strange heat.
“All I want to know, Mr. Kruger, is whether or not I can move into the cabin.”
He wanted to kiss her. His whole body came alive with the desire to wrap his arms around her, to smother her against him. To run his hands—
“Mr. Kruger?” Amanda shifted impatiently. “Are you paying even the slightest bit of attention to me?”
Jason yanked his hat lower on his forehead. “Yeah, you can move in. But I’m telling you that cabin is filthy. It’s going to need—”
“Thank you. That’s all I need to know.” Amanda gave him a brisk nod and headed off.
Jason stared at her delicious little bustle, too stunned for a moment to move. Then he went after her. He didn’t like Amanda—or anybody—handling things. It was his mountain. He’d handle them.
Jason planted himself in front of her, stopping her short. “I’m not having you running all over this mountain, doing whatever suits you. I make the decisions around here.”
Amanda rolled her eyes and threw out her hands. “First, you tell me you don’t want me interfering with you, your crew or their work schedule. Then, you insist that I do exactly that. You can’t have it both ways, Mr. Kruger.”
He took a step closer and leaned down. “Yes, I can. This is my mountain. I can have things anyway I want.”
Amanda stretched her nose up to meet his. “And these are my brides. It’s my responsibility to get them here, and that’s what I intend to do. Whether it suits you or not.”
She yanked her skirt up, circled around him, and marched up the mountain.
Jason stared after her, his whole body humming. Damn, she was an irritating woman. Hardheaded, stubborn, pushy.
He pulled off his hat and dragged his sleeve across his forehead. He was annoyed with her, but he was more annoyed with himself. Because despite everything, he still wanted to kiss her.
For the second day in a row, Jason didn’t go up the mountain with his crew. Instead, he spent the morning in his office doing paperwork.
Or trying to, anyway.
His desk chair sat at just the right angle to see across the camp to the little cabins that were scattered up the hillside. And, if he leaned to the left, he could see the exact cabin that Amanda was moving into this morning.
Jason grumbled under his breath and pulled his gaze from the mountainside back to his ledgers again. His neck was starting to hurt. Determinedly, he stared at the pages of columns and the figures, refusing to look out the window.
The dozen or so cabins were occupied by the merchants who ran businesses in town, and by some of the loggers. Jason didn’t care where his men lived, provided they lived near the camp. Some of them disliked the bunkhouse and had built their own cabins. That was all right with Jason, too, as long as they did it on their own time and with their own money.
The abandoned cabin Amanda had selected for herself had belonged to one of his men who’d left the camp months ago. It was situated the farthest up the hillside, nestled among the trees. Built for one man, it was small and isolated so no one else had wanted it.
But this morning Amanda was cleaning the place as if the Queen of England intended to take up residence there. Jason had seen Amanda and Meg make trip after trip to the little cabin, carrying buckets, brooms, mops, boxes of cleaning supplies. They’d spent hours in the place.
And Jason had spent almost as much time leaning to his left, watching them out his window.
He cursed under his breath again, realizing that he was doing just that once more. Still, he couldn’t stop himself.
Cleaning a place as dirty as that little cabin was hard work. Amanda was a proper lady. She probably had maids and housekeepers who’d done that sort of work for her all her life. She wasn’t accustomed to doing heavy cleaning. She might hurt herself.
Jason flipped a page in his ledger. It would serve her right if she did get hurt, he decided. The way she’d insisted on doing everything herself and ignored his good advice. Stubborn woman….
Of course, to do that cleaning she’d put on a different dress. Jason had noticed that first thing. Or rather, he’d noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bustle. Which meant she probably wasn’t wearing all the other underthings women wore.
Tension hummed in Jason’s veins. Determinedly, he kept his gaze on the column of figures in front of him, trying to concentrate. It didn’t work. The figures all swarmed together. He slammed the book closed.
This was just the sort of thing he didn’t want to have happen. He hadn’t been able to get any work done because of a woman in the camp.
Jason let his thoughts sink even deeper. It wasn’t just any woman, it was Amanda Pierce.
He adjusted his thinking back to his original concern for Amanda. She wasn’t used to doing heavy work. She was too headstrong to admit she needed help. She might hurt herself. And he didn’t need anybody getting hurt in his camp.
He was in charge of this mountain. It was up to him to make sure his rules were followed. He’d march right up there and tell Miss Amanda Pierce just that. Again.
Jason pushed to his feet, grabbed his hat and left the office.
The buzz of the sawmill sounded across the camp as Jason walked toward the little gathering of cabins. Few people were in camp at this time of the day, a couple of the town merchants’ kids, a dog running free. The cook and his helpers were busy working on the next meal.
Jason hiked up the hill, past the occupied cabins, farther into the woods to the cabin Amanda had chosen. Sunshine filtered through the canopy of leaves above,
warming the air. It was nearly noon and the day had grown hot. He stopped at the front steps.
The cabin didn’t look like much. Just one room, a pitched roof, a front porch. But it was solid and sturdy. The logger who’d built it knew what he was doing. The door stood open a crack but Jason heard no voices.
He climbed the porch and poked his head inside. The few pieces of furniture that had been left behind by the now departed logger had been pushed to one side of the room, the side that still needed cleaning. The area where the kitchen was located had been scrubbed already.
No sign of Amanda or Meg.
He hadn’t seen either of them leave, but maybe they’d left during one of the few moments he’d actually been concentrating on his ledgers.
Jason jumped from the porch and circled the little cabin. At the back corner, he froze. His breath caught.
Amanda was on the tiny back porch. She’d changed from the pink dress he’d seen her in earlier to a simple green gingham print that she must have borrowed from Meg. A yellow scarf was wrapped around her hair.
She sat on the porch, leaning against the back door, her eyes closed, her legs—her bare legs—stretched out in front of her.
Jason’s gut tightened as he stood at the corner of the house, staring. She’d pulled up her dress to her knees, exposing her slender, shapely legs and tiny bare feet.
Heat bloomed in Jason’s belly and shot downward.
Idly, eyes still shut tight, Amanda lifted a handkerchief from a pan of cool, clear water beside her. She popped open the top two buttons of her dress and leaned her head back. She squeezed the handkerchief. Droplets fell on her throat, drizzled down her chest, and disappeared under the fabric of her dress.
Jason pressed his mouth closed to keep from moaning aloud. That didn’t keep the rest of his body from reacting, however.
Mesmerized, he stared at Amanda. Gone was the prim and proper lady he’d seen sashaying around his camp. Here was a woman, a real woman. Relaxed, unrestrained, uninhibited.
Touchable.
Yes, touchable. The notion surged through Jason’s body. And at that moment, he wanted to touch her like he’d never wanted anything in his life. Desire clawed at him.
He watched Amanda, caught in the spell she didn’t know she’d cast over him. His insides tugged at him. His imagination flew at a wild gallop.
How he’d like to lick his tongue against those little rivers of water rolling down her chest. Press his lips against her damp skin. Mold her flesh with his big hands.
Jason watched her, lost—happily lost—until, finally, his conscience kicked in.
He was reluctant to end this private moment with her, when she was there just for him to see, but he knew he had to.
Jason moved back around the corner and called out her name. He gave her a few seconds, then stepped forward again. When he rounded the corner of the cabin Amanda had recovered, but he hadn’t.
She was sitting up now, buttons fastened, her skirt pulled down, her knees drawn up, her arms folded around them. But having her look all proper now only reminded Jason of what he’d just seen…and how much he’d like to see it again.
To his surprise, Amanda didn’t look frazzled or panicked that she’d almost been caught in an unguarded moment. “What are you doing up here?” Amanda asked. A little frown creased her forehead.
Jason walked over to the edge of the porch, gazing down at her.
“Don’t tell me I’ve disturbed work on the mountain, somehow,” she said.
Jason dropped to the porch, sitting a few feet from her, fighting the urge to answer her question truthfully, and tell her that the only thing she’d disturbed on his mountain this morning was him. The words would have slipped out easily. Jason didn’t like that.
“How’s the work coming?” he asked and nodded toward the house.
“About half done,” Amanda said. “Meg’s gone to get us some lemonade. I don’t know what I’d have done without her this morning.”
Jason nodded, but really, he hadn’t heard half of what she said. He caught a glimpse of her white petticoat. That caused him to realize how naked she was under her dress, without her bustle, corset and all the other underthings women wore.
“It’s very different up here,” Amanda said softly, gazing up the mountain at the towering trees, the wildflowers, the underbrush.
Jason’s gaze followed hers and he shrugged. “Different from San Francisco, you mean? Yes, I’d say it is.”
“You’ve been to San Francisco?” she asked.
“I’ve been lots of places.”
“But you like it here best?”
Jason shrugged easily. “It suits me.”
“This mountain is so wild. Untamed. Almost exotic.” Amanda’s gaze moved from the trees and settled on Jason. “Is that why you like it?”
“Is that why you don’t like it?” he countered.
Amanda looked slightly offended. “I can be wild…sometimes.”
Jason grunted. “Like what? Not putting up your pinky at a tea party?”
“I’ve done that twice, I’ll have you know,” she informed him.
A little grin tugged at the corner of her mouth and Jason realized she was teasing. He grinned, too, even though he hadn’t expected to.
“So what about you?” Amanda asked. “Have you ever been wild?”
“I’ve had my moments,” Jason said, and eased closer.
“I doubt that,” Amanda said.
Jason scooted a little closer and grinned. “I might surprise you.”
“You’re always working,” Amanda said. “Ethan said you haven’t been off this mountain in months.”
“I didn’t have a good reason to leave,” Jason said, and almost added that now he had none at all.
“See? That’s exactly what I mean. You’re always working.”
Her words didn’t sound critical, just conversational. Jason couldn’t remember the last time he’d simply talked to a woman. He remembered the last time he’d bedded down with one, though her face wasn’t clear in his mind. He remembered casual conversations, but nothing meaningful. No woman had ever held his attention long enough for anything like that.
And he couldn’t even say it was the conversation that fascinated him at this moment. Because right now, he was having a hell of a good time just watching Amanda’s toes peeking out from under her skirt. Just why he was so enthralled with ten little pink toes, he didn’t have any idea.
Jason rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in his neck. Maybe he should get off this mountain of his more often.
He glanced at Amanda beside him, feeling the urge to lean against her, capture her cheek in his hand, kiss her hard on the mouth.
Jason looked away. Maybe he’d better get off this mountain soon.
Chapter Nine
Voices intruded, then Todd raced around the corner of the cabin, his blond hair bouncing. A moment later, Meg followed. Like Amanda, she wore a plain dress and scarf wrapped around her hair. Ethan walked beside her carrying a pitcher of lemonade.
Jason shot to his feet. Ethan stopped at the porch steps.
“You’re supposed to be at the sawmill,” Jason told him.
“You’re supposed to be doing the books,” Ethan countered.
They eyed each other for a moment, then Meg spoke up.
“Ethan helped me with the lemonade,” she said.
Amanda pulled on her slippers and rose, feeling a little emptiness inside that she and Jason didn’t have the porch to themselves now.
They moved into the house and settled in the half of the room that had been cleaned already, the kitchen area. Amanda dried several tin cups she’d washed earlier. Meg poured the lemonade.
“Place is shaping up. You got a lot done this morning,” Ethan said, looking around. “Maybe we ought to put you ladies on the logging crew.”
Everybody laughed. Todd raced into the house through the back door.
“Slow down, partner,” Ethan said, and caught the boy be
fore he crashed into Amanda.
Todd tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “Ethan said me and him could go fishing on Sunday.”
Meg turned to Ethan. “Really? Are you sure you can spare the time?”
Ethan shrugged. “Sure. I like fishing, and Todd is a good fishing buddy.”
Todd wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “Me and Ethan have been fishing lots of times.”
Meg touched her son’s head lovingly and passed him her cup of lemonade.
Ethan nodded toward the other half of the cabin, still filthy and cluttered with the rough furniture.
“Did you two women move that stuff yourself?” he asked.
“Of course we did,” Amanda said.
Ethan and Jason exchanged a wary look.
“Some of this furniture is heavy,” Ethan said.
“We can manage,” Amanda said.
Jason frowned at her. “Look, Miss Pierce, I know you’re used to having maids and butlers do things like this for you. But you’ve got to realize that doing all this heavy cleaning is hard work.”
“Maids? Butlers?” Amanda tensed. “I wouldn’t know what to do with either, even if I had one.”
Jason’s frown deepened. “But I thought—”
“Exactly.” Briskly, Amanda took the empty cup from his hand and set it aside. “If you two gentlemen will run along we have a lot to do this afternoon.”
Neither Ethan nor Jason moved.
“I don’t like the idea of you two moving all this furniture,” Jason said.
“We’ve already moved it once,” Amanda said. “All we have to do now is push it on the porch, do our cleaning, and put it back inside again. We’ll be fine.”
Jason and Ethan looked at each other, the furniture, then at the two women.
Ethan shook his head. “I’ll stay and help.”
“No, I’ll stay,” Jason said.
“You’re supposed to be doing the ledgers,” Ethan said.
“And you’re supposed to be working at the sawmill.”
The two men glared at each other for a moment.
“The sawmill can run without me for a while,” Ethan told him.
“And those ledgers will be there when I get back,” Jason said.
