by Judith Stacy
She pointed at the three men standing closest to her. “You, get the wagon. You, fetch blankets and put them in the back. You, bring clean towels and water. Now!”
The men scattered.
Ethan and Amanda washed Brandon’s wound and wrapped it tightly in the clean towels. Brandon groaned softly, fading in and out. Blood seeped through the towels.
Jason went outside and shouted at the driver of the freight wagon—and anyone else standing around—as it pulled up outside the sawmill. Then he scooped up Brandon and placed him on the pallet of blankets. When Jason tried to climb up onto the seat, Amanda stopped him by touching his arm.
“No,” she told him.
Jason glared at her, somewhere between stunned and annoyed at her handing out orders.
“You’re too upset. Brandon needs a smooth ride. Get in the back and help steady him. Ethan, you drive.”
Amanda climbed into the back of the wagon with Jason and they sat on either side of Brandon as they made the long trip down the mountain.
The boy looked frail and helpless wrapped in the woolen blankets, his eyes closed, mercifully unaware of most of the pain. He moaned occasionally, bringing a new pang of worry to Amanda. She glanced up at Jason, his face grim.
When they reached Beaumont the doctor was in his office. Jason carried Brandon inside and they all crowded into his surgery. The small, dim room smelled of chemicals and illness. When the doctor pulled away the blood-soaked towel, Jason reeled back, then went out the door.
Amanda watched him, torn between whether to follow or stay with Brandon. Ethan caught her eye and nodded toward the door. Amanda went outside.
She waited on the front porch of the doctor’s office until Jason came from around back, dragging his fist across his mouth. He stopped when he saw her, hesitated for only a second, then stepped up onto the porch.
Amanda turned away and rested her hands on the porch railing. The evening breeze ruffled her hair and cooled her face. On the street in front of her a few horses and wagons plodded by. Stores were closing. Beaumont was settling in for the night.
She felt Jason’s presence on the porch near her, sensed him at her side staring at the dusty street. A long moment passed before he spoke.
“Do you think he’ll lose his hand?”
“I don’t know,” Amanda said.
From the corner of her eye she saw Jason scrub his palms over his face. “I—I can’t look at…that sort of thing without—”
“Throwing up?”
He glanced down at her, mildly surprised she’d use so unladylike a term. Saw, too, that she was unwilling to allow him at least a little dignity.
“Yeah,” Jason said.
Another few minutes dragged by. Jason eased a little closer, and turned to face her.
“I know this is my fault,” he said, and nodded toward the doctor’s office.
“Yes, I’d agree with that.”
Jason’s cut his eyes away. “Thanks,” he said sourly.
“What kind of friend would I be if I told you lies just to make you feel better?” Amanda asked. “What happened to Brandon is partially your fault.”
“Everything that happens on that mountain is my responsibility.”
“You should have given him something to do,” Amanda said. “A boy his age can’t be left to wander.”
“Look, he had no business in that sawmill. This just proves I was right.”
Amanda whirled to face him. “This only proves that you’re stubborn and pigheaded, as I’ve said all along.”
He glared at her. “I’m not getting into this with you.”
“I don’t care whether you want to talk about it or not!” Amanda told him. “You need to consider the possibility that you may not be right all the time!”
Amanda waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Jason just looked at her. She couldn’t read his expression at the moment. Was he angry? Hurt? Did he really believe what had happened to Brandon was his fault? Or that she might be right?
Something was different about him. His stance was a little softer. The edges of his face weren’t so hard. There was a vulnerability about him she hadn’t seen before.
It tore at her heart. For all the anger she felt, Amanda wanted to hold him. She wanted to loop her arms around him and press against him. Give him the strength she had. Take the strength he offered.
But he hadn’t offered any. He hadn’t asked for any.
Amanda crossed the porch and went inside the doctor’s office.
Darkness had fallen by the time the freight wagon pulled into the lumber camp. Ethan drove the team up to the Kruger house. Lanterns sat on the porch, along with Shady and Buck Johansen. They came to their feet as the wagon pulled to a stop.
“Well, what about it?” Shady asked as he ambled to the rear of the wagon.
“Everybody’s been asking,” Buck said. “The whole mountain’s worried.”
Ethan jumped down from the driver’s seat. “The kid got lucky. Didn’t break the bone, just sliced everything open.”
Jason climbed out the back of the wagon and lowered the tailgate. He caught Amanda at the waist and lifted her to the ground.
“No permanent damage?” Buck asked, peering over the side of the wagon.
Brandon lay bundled in the woolen blankets, sleeping, his right arm wrapped in bandages. Jason lifted him out, resting the boy’s head on his chest.
Amanda touched her hand to Brandon’s forehead. “The doctor can’t be sure at this point. Only time will tell. But things look good.”
Shady chuckled. “Sounds like the boy’s got Kruger luck.”
“He’ll have to be very careful,” Amanda said. “The arm needs special care until it’s healed.”
“Ain’t nothing to fool around about.” Shady shook his head. “The boy needs a doctor up here to look after him.”
“He needs his mother,” Jason said curtly and brushed past them.
Ethan followed him inside. Amanda waited on the porch talking to Shady and Buck, giving them details of what the doctor had said. They told her how everyone on the mountain was worried about Brandon.
“The two men Jason fired at the sawmill,” Amanda said. “Do you think he was serious?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Buck said. “Dead serious.”
“But mightn’t he reconsider?”
Buck shook his head. “I’m sure not going to be the one to ask him, ma’am.”
Amanda doubted any man on the mountain would question Jason on his decision. He ran the place. His word was law. And in this case, Amanda couldn’t disagree with him, even though she hated to see the two men lose their jobs.
“Well, ’night, ma’am,” Buck said. He tipped his hat and hiked up toward the bunkhouse.
Shady lingered, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. “I heard tell that Gerald McGee is back on the mountain wanting his wife and boy.”
Fatigue swamped Amanda. Today had been one of emotional ups and downs. For herself, and for so many others. She was tired, worn out by everyone else’s—and her own—problems.
“Yes, Shady,” she said. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
He sucked his gums. “Just don’t seem right.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“She a-gonna go with him?”
“I think so.”
Shady grunted. “Guess she’s got no choice, seeing as how she’s married to him. Reckon that’s why I never got hitched. Didn’t like not being able to choose things for myself.”
The sounds of the night closed in around them. The camp seemed peaceful. After a time, Shady ambled away.
Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose, tired and anxious to get to her little cabin. Somehow, in the past weeks, it had begun to feel like home. The sounds in the woods no longer frightened her. The simple furnishings seemed inviting. Tonight, the feather mattress waiting for her seemed more welcoming than the finest bed she’d ever lain on in San Francisco.
But she wanted to m
ake sure Brandon was all right before she left. She expected Ethan to come outside and let her know he was settled in for the night. She waited for a while and was surprised to see Jason come through the front door.
“How is he?” she asked.
“Sleeping.”
“Good. He’ll need lots of rest.”
In the dim light from inside the house Amanda watched Jason closely. For a second he looked as if he wanted to say something, or ask something, but in the end didn’t. She stepped off the porch and headed for home.
“Thanks,” Jason called.
She was surprised to hear him say that, but wouldn’t allow herself to make too much of it. “You’re welcome,” she answered, and kept walking.
“You were right.”
Amanda froze, her spine tingling. Slowly she turned. Jason stood on the porch. She never expected to hear those words from him, and for a moment wondered if it was her imagination. Then Jason spoke again.
“You were right,” he said. “I should have paid more attention to him, given him something to keep him busy.”
“You were right, too,” Amanda said. “He does need his mother.”
They stood like that for a few minutes, yards apart, staring, saying nothing. The yards separating them may as well have been miles. The ground between them a yawning abyss.
Amanda considered marching right up to Jason then and there and telling him she’d had enough of this emotional gulf that separated them. She almost did it, too. Definitely would have if he’d taken the tiniest step toward her.
But tonight she was tired. Simply too tired. She wanted to lie in his arms and collect herself, soothe him and make his problems go away. But Jason didn’t want that. And Amanda was too tired to fight for it. She turned and hiked toward her cabin without another word.
Jason watched until she disappeared into the shadows and still didn’t take his eyes from her. He caught glimpses of her as she crossed the camp, highlighted by shafts of light from windows and open doorways. When lanterns flickered inside her own cabin he still couldn’t turn away.
If things had gone a little differently today, he could have lost his brother. The brother he hadn’t even gotten to know yet.
He still might lose his other brother. If Meg left with her husband, no telling what Ethan would do. Expecting him to stay on the mountain, looking at Meg’s vacant cabin, remembering and being reminded of what he almost had might be too much. Ethan might just take off.
And what would that leave him with? A mountain full of newlyweds. A railroad contract. A business to run.
Jason leaned his head against the roof post. What the hell good was any of it? Without Amanda?
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Brides! Brides on the mountain!”
Amanda had heard the shouts echo through the lumber camp since the first wagon pulled into sight at midday yesterday. First from the men at the sawmill, then from those at the millpond, the cookhouse, the barns and now from the loggers who trekked down the skid road for their noon meal.
Tablet and lists in hand, Amanda stood in the swirl of confusion inside the dormitory as the last six of her twenty-three brides arrived from Beaumont. All brought baggage, all needed their room. All asked a dozen questions. All were tired and hungry. Meg and Becky helped out as best they could.
“Yes,” Amanda said, flipping through her lists, “you’re in room eight. Upstairs. Yes, yes, and you’re right next door. Supper is at four tonight. Baths will be available afterward. The social begins at seven.”
“Y’all just follow me,” Becky called out, leading the duck line of brides up the stairs.
“Gracious….” Meg blew out a big breath and sidled up to Amanda.
“Things will settle down now that they’re all here.” Amanda grinned. “Hopefully.”
She glanced out the window at another freight wagon pulling up out front. Though the supplies for the brides had been ordered some weeks ago, not everything had come as quickly as needed. They continued to arrive daily with more expected over the next couple of days. Wagons from Beaumont were wearing dozens of new ruts in the mountain road.
“The men are getting anxious,” Meg said, peering out the side window.
Amanda pressed her nose against the glass. The loggers, prospective husbands and others, were gathered just down the hill from the dormitory. They talked, occasionally pointed, stretched their necks and jockeyed for a better position.
One of the rules in the camp was that no men were allowed in the brides’ dormitory without express permission from Amanda, although she didn’t think any of the men would be brave enough to venture in at the moment.
Was Jason out there? Though she didn’t want to, Amanda found herself searching the faces of the men assembled outside. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night before last when they’d come back from Beaumont. She’d been tempted, though. Once she’d even marched halfway to his office before stopping. But in the end Amanda had turned back, not as eager for a confrontation as she’d thought since she feared the outcome might not be what she wanted. Besides, she was running out of time.
Among the men assembled outside, Amanda saw Gerald McGee, Meg’s husband. At the other end of the gathering she spotted Ethan Kruger. Amanda glanced at Meg beside her and wondered which man her friend was looking at.
“Just as well we’re having the social tonight,” Meg said, turning away from the window.
“And the weddings tomorrow.” Amanda checked her list, getting back to business. “Reverend Daley will arrive around noon. I have a crew of volunteers to set up the benches for the joint ceremony, Idelle Turner is in charge of decorations, Gladys Duncan and Polly Minton are handling the refreshments. Everything should go like clockwork.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Do you think so?”
“Of course,” Amanda said. “Everything will go just as planned.”
“Let’s hope things go smoothly tonight at the social.”
Amanda waved away her concern. “I’ve done dozens of these. This is the easiest part. Just wait and see.”
A disaster! Her get-acquainted social was a disaster.
Stunned, Amanda stood among the crowd at the edge of the dance floor. How could this be happening?
At Amanda’s insistence, Jim Hubbard and the other four musicians pushed on, playing the dozen songs they knew. The dormitory was decorated with wildflowers and candles. At the far end of the room, tables covered with pink cloths held trays of food. The brides were turned out in their finest, the loggers were clean-scrubbed, with fresh haircuts and neatly trimmed beards.
But nobody moved. The men stood on one side of the room, the women on the other, lined up as if awaiting execution. And between them yawned the gaping expanse of empty dance floor.
“What’s wrong with everybody?” Meg whispered from beside Amanda.
She surveyed the scene in front of her. At the start of the evening, she’d introduced each bride to her prospective husband. They knew who each other was, why weren’t they dancing?
“We need one man brave enough to cross the floor and ask a woman to dance. Once that happens, everyone will join in,” Amanda said.
“But they’ve been in this standoff for nearly a half hour,” Meg said. “I don’t think there’s a brave enough man among them.”
Amanda gulped. “If something is not done soon I may have to cross the floor and ask one of the men to dance.”
“Oh, Amanda, you can’t possibly do that,” Meg insisted, shocked at the very idea.
“I can’t simply stand by and—”
Meg gasped. “Oh, look. Here comes someone.”
Amanda wheeled and in the soft light saw one man step away from the group knotted on the other side of the room. Her hopes soared, then stumbled.
“It’s Jason,” Meg said.
“Oh.” Disappointment sank Amanda’s shoulders. She’d hoped it was one of the prospective grooms, a brave one, who’d stepped out to ask his bride to dance. Instead, it was Jaso
n Kruger crossing the floor, heading her way.
“It’s all right,” Amanda said, her spirits lifting. “I’ll make Jason talk to the men, insist he send one of them over here to invite his bride to dance.”
Meg shook her head, eyeing the large expanse of dance floor separating the sexes. “I don’t know if even Jason can force the men to do that.”
“Well, I’ve got to do something.”
Amanda wrung her hands together, watching Jason. As he approached, his height increased, his chest grew wider, his shoulders broader. He’d been to the barber like the other men, she saw. His dark hair looked neat and freshly cut. He had on a white shirt with a string tie, and a vest she’d never seen before. He looked handsome. And he was going to save her social—whether he wanted to or not.
Every eye in the room followed Jason across the floor. The men edged slightly closer. The women shifted for a better look. A low murmur rumbled through the room.
Jason took his time, walking at an unhurried pace, like a man used to being at the center of things, a man who owned everything around him. A man who enjoyed every moment of it.
He stopped in front of Amanda and her heart skipped faster. Thank goodness, he’d come to her. Somehow, he’d sensed her distress. He’d come to help her, to save her social.
Jason gazed down at her. “Would you like to dance?”
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” Amanda latched onto his forearm, glancing around. “You’ve got to make one of your men ask one of the brides to dance.”
“I just asked you to dance.”
She rose on her toes to see around him, to the men lined on the opposite wall. “He’ll have to be a brave one. Offer him money if you have to. I’ll pay. I can’t let my social fall—”
“Amanda.” Jason touched his finger to her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. “I just asked you if you’d like to dance.”
“Me?” She gasped, suddenly aware that every eye in the room was on them. Amanda looked up at him and he smiled and raised his brows in a question.
Amanda’s cheeks warmed and her heart did a little flip. Jason wanted to dance with her? Her? He’d crossed the dance floor under the scrutiny of everyone on the mountain, and asked her to dance?
