by E. E. Burke
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“You can whip up the flapjacks. Grab that apron hanging by the stove; there’s flour in the bin, canned milk on the shelf, and bowls up there as well.”
“A spoon for stirring?”
“In the dry sink.”
“Bicarbonate soda?”
“Uh, try one of the shelves.” He’d mounted shelves everywhere so he would have somewhere to put all the stuff that didn’t go on the table or in the cabinet where he kept his weapons and ammunition.
She rattled around and after searching the nearest shelf, moved to the next one. “Charlie, you have a box of nails next to the canned milk…and why is there a pick ax hanging beside your coat?”
“I like to keep things off the floor.”
“That’s not the point. Why is the bicarbonate soda beside your shaving cup?”
He met her questioning gaze in the small mirror propped up behind the items she’d mentioned. “That doesn’t make sense to you?”
“Does it to you?”
At that moment he couldn’t recall why, but he was sure at one time it had made perfect sense. He shrugged and gave her a smile. She wasn’t really scolding him as much as pointing out how much he needed a feminine influence. “I’ll bet a woman like you could get this place organized in no time.”
“An army of women, maybe.” She placed the items she’d retrieved on the table and hummed while she mixed the batter.
He finished frying the bacon, feeling more content than he had in years. He enjoyed her tuneless humming, their banter, and the way she took over, as if she already lived there. “Is the batter ready?”
She brought the bowl over and set it on a cool stove cover. “Would you like for me to cook the flapjacks?”
“Let’s work together. You pour, I’ll flip.”
“Agreed.”
Penny dipped a tin cup into the batter, but when she reached over him to pour it into the frying pan, her elbow bumped the bowl. Charlie caught the bowl before it tipped over and moved it away from the edge.
She blushed seven shades of red, and got so flustered she dropped the cup into the bowl. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, as she fished it out. “You might not want my help. With my bad luck, I may set the place on fire.”
“You bumped a bowl, Penny. We all do it.”
“Not as often as I do.” Avoiding his eyes, she wiped her fingers on a rag hanging over the handle of the oven. He’d seen her bump into people and knock things over, yet she had a natural grace in how she moved. The problem wasn’t simple clumsiness, but he wasn’t convinced it was bad luck either.
“Maybe you need spectacles.”
She darted a sideways glance in his direction. “Dr. Deane said the same thing.”
“He might be right.” Charlie lifted the pan so she could see it better.
Still red-faced, she dipped the cup into the batter and poured a dollop into the hot grease without any trouble. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”
He gazed into the clear gray depths. “Nope, not a thing wrong. You have beautiful eyes; the color reminds me of galena.”
“You think my eyes are…” she paused, then asked, “what’s galena?”
“It’s an ore, the natural form of lead, and often has silver mixed in.”
Her eyes widened and now he could see silvery striations shot through the darker gray.
Unusual. Beautiful.
“Is it valuable?”
He suddenly realized he was still holding up the frying pan and set it back on the stove. “Yeah, I’d say your eyes are valuable.”
“Not my eyes. Galena.”
“Galena?” Oh yeah, he’d compared her eyes to a rock. He probably could’ve done better than that. “Depends. Can’t be sure until it’s tested, and it can be costly to extract all that rock if you’re not sure there’s much value.”
Which reminded him…
He’d been hauling out and pulverizing tons of quartz for months that had yielded less and less gold. Again, he’d taken the tailings from the mine to the assayer to have them tested to see if he was missing something. He needed to talk to Hugh to learn if he’d found anything new.
Charlie turned two more flapjacks onto the plate she held up, waited as she poured more batter into the skillet. “After breakfast, I could show you inside the gold mine. If you’re feeling up to it, that is.”
She gave him a speculative look. “Mr. Powell told me he doesn’t think there’s more gold to be found, and the miners are worried they won’t have jobs for much longer.”
That kind of talk could spark a mass exodus. How many others would be influenced by the foreman’s disloyalty? “You and Silas sure talked an awful lot before he pulled heel.”
“Apparently, we didn’t talk enough. He gave no indication he planned to leave.”
Her remarks stirred another troubling thought. Charlie didn’t like the idea he might be partly at fault for her groom’s defection, even though Silas had obviously only heard what he wanted to hear. “Powell took a cowardly way out, if he left because he feared for his job. I never once told him we’d be closing the mine. Just because we haven’t hit the mother lode doesn’t mean we won’t. That’s how mining goes; not every yield will have gold.”
He refrained from further explanation, knowing from experience how futile it would be. The more he’d reassured Olivia he would strike it rich, the less inclined she’d been to believe him, and Penny had absolutely no reason to trust his word at this point.
Besides, the less they talked about gold the better. These days, it was a topic guaranteed to put him in a foul mood.
After he stacked the last flapjacks on the plate, she took it to the table, and he followed with the bacon. “Where do you keep the syrup?” she asked.
He snapped his fingers. “Forgot about that. I’m out.” What else might be good on flapjacks? He scanned the junk piled up on the shelves. She might have a point about his organizational skills…or lack thereof. “I’ve got a stash of honey around here somewhere. Collected it last summer.”
“Do you recall where you put it?” Penny went back to the shelves, then looked at him over her shoulder with wry amusement. “Over by the shaving cup? Or perhaps inside this tool box?”
“Very funny. Now I remember.” He strode across the room and retrieved the jar from inside a locked cabinet where he kept his rifles, as he explained his logic. “I collected honey on the same day I went hunting, so it makes sense I’d put it here where I keep the firearms.”
By the time he turned around, she’d already taken her seat at the table. Her lips twitched as if she found something funny, which he assumed had to do with his makes-sense-to-him-but-questionable-to-her logic.
She rested her wrists on the table, and he could see she was concealing something within her closed hands. Charlie put the honey jar next to the plate of flapjacks then asked, “Did you find something else in an odd place?”
She opened her fingers and a tiny, hand-carved drum, painted red, rested in her palms. She picked it up by a thin gold ribbon threaded through a metal loop. “I found this in the tool box. I believe it’s a Christmas ornament.”
In all the excitement over the last few days, he’d forgotten about the ongoing prank he’d been pulling on the couples getting married.
Charlie released a low laugh, as he sat down. “I agree this time. That is an odd place for me to have put it.”
“Mr. Hardt, you are a sneak.” Her smile broadened. Apparently, this underhanded trick amused her. “So, you’re the one who’s been leaving ornaments on the tree as a gift for the newlyweds. That’s very sweet, Charlie.”
Sweet? This might prove embarrassing if word got out, and it would definitely ruin the tough-as-nails reputation he had worked so hard to establish. On the other hand, she seemed awfully happy thinking he was a sentimental fool.
“It’s ah”—he shrugged—“just a prank.”
“A prank? How’s that?”
Her eyes lit up. “That you would play Father Christmas!”
Father Christmas? Charlie wiped his hand over his face, knowing he would never live this down.
“Prank or not, I think your gifts show remarkable creativity. The couples are thrilled, and each ornament is so fitting. We enjoyed it and would all wonder what the next one would be.”
The admiration in her gaze just might make the embarrassment worth it.
“You like them?”
“Charlie, everyone loves them.”
Did they? Why that should put him in a good mood, he couldn’t imagine. Well, maybe he had enjoyed putting ornaments on the tree, then waiting for the couples to discover them, watching their faces as they mused about who might be leaving the gifts. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he’d intended it to be touching; and this was just the kind of sentimental drivel that he’d wanted to avoid. He definitely wouldn’t be putting the drum on the tree. How obvious would that be, considering his mining operation was called The Drum?
“Let’s, um, keep this between us.”
Disappointment clouded her features. “Very well. If you insist on remaining anonymous, I will respect your wishes.”
That was easy.
Now he was ready to dig into the meal they’d prepared together. The day hadn’t started out half bad.
But Penny still examined the tiny drum with her forefinger. “This is exquisite. All the ornaments you’ve left on the tree are lovely. Where did you find them?”
Did they have to keep talking about this? He’d lose his appetite.
“I ordered a set of twelve ornaments out of a catalog some time back.” He reached across the table and plucked the little drum out of her hands so she would stop obsessing over it.
Her expression softened to something approaching sympathy, only kinder. “You bought them for your daughter, didn’t you?”
Ah, she was too quick, and far too smart. He didn’t like how she could so easily read him. Not only that, but she seemed determined to flush out details he’d rather keep to himself. But if he evaded her questions, she would consider it more evidence of his deceitful nature. The best option seemed to be keeping her busy with something other than talking.
“Yes.” He lifted the plate of flapjacks and offered them to her. “Now, can we eat?”
After breakfast, Penny helped clear the plates and cleaned up the dishes at the sink, using water Charlie had heated on the stove. After she had confronted him with her delightful discovery, he hadn’t said more than a few words. She was half-sorry she’d brought up the tender subject, because it had ended their playful banter. Though it might be just as well. Learning more about his soft spots wasn’t making it any easier to resist him.
She reached to place a dried plate on the shelf just as he turned. She bumped into him and the plate fell from her hand, but Charlie caught it before shattered on the floor. “Oh goodness! You really ought to keep me away from anything that might break.”
He waggled the plate. “Nonsense, we make a good team. You throw it and I catch it.”
His good-natured teasing eased what could’ve been another awkward moment, and she found she could laugh about it because he didn’t act annoyed. Or worse, scared.
“You have good reflexes,” she pointed out. “Maybe you should take up juggling.”
His lake-blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he picked up the second clean plate and tossed it upwards. Catching it, he sent the other plate airborne and snagged that one, too.
“Shall I try?” She reached for one of the plates.
He pulled it back before putting both plates on the shelf. “Mm, I only have two. Maybe there’s something else we can do together that doesn’t involve breakables.”
“Such as?”
“How about this?” He circled his hands around her waist and drew her to him.
Kissing him seemed the most natural response in the world. The touch of his lips reignited the fire he’d started the night before, and Penny wrapped her arms around his neck. Oh yes!
This was something they did very well together, and it didn’t involve anything that could be broken.
Except for her heart.
Instantly, the fire fizzled, and Penny put her hands on his chest and pulled away. Charlie’s actions could be excused; men always took sexual liberties when a woman made it so easy for them. But why was she allowing it, and not even feeling a bit ashamed?
She shook her head sadly. “What are we doing, Charlie?”
His lips curled into a wicked smile and he tightened his hold around her waist. “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right. Here, let’s try again.”
She kept her hands planted against his chest to keep him at bay. Charming rogue. He knew just how to tempt her, with his teasing smile and sizzling sensuality. “This is what I feared might happen. I should go back to town.”
His smile faded. “You promised me one day.”
So she had. But how would she hold out against his determined seduction when she possessed so little restraint? “You said you would show me the mine,” she prodded, knowing that was as good an excuse as any to avoid another toe-curling kiss.
Charlie heaved a sigh—reluctance if she ever heard it—and finally released her. “I did say that, didn’t I? We’ll need light.” He moved to one of the shelves and began to shift cups and jars around. “Wonder where I put those lucifers?”
Penny waited patiently until it became clear he wouldn’t find them in the disorganized mess. Now where would he have put a box of matches?
She walked straight to the rough-hewn cabinet where he earlier found the honey and pulled open a drawer. “Ah, here they are!”
His mouth dropped open. “How did you figure out they’d be in there?”
“Well, you said you went hunting, so I assume you took matches to start a fire, then put them in here when you returned your gun.”
He grinned as he pulled on his coat and tucked the matches into his pocket. “Now you’re thinking like me.”
“I know how you think. That’s different than thinking like you.”
“If you say so.”
He assisted her with her cloak and handed her the thick woolen scarf, which she wrapped around her neck and face before pulling up her hood and putting on her gloves. After they were bundled up, he opened the door and a frigid wind whisked inside, making her shiver.
He hesitated. “Are you feeling well enough for a walk?”
“I was feeling well enough to let you kiss me, so walking shouldn’t be a problem.”
After he showed her the mine, she would insist he take her back to town where they would be around other people. Except, she knew if they showed up in town together it would create even more problems. She would go back alone and deal with the inevitable questions.
Charlie stopped where he’d left the wagon beneath a covered area protected by a low-slung roof. He rummaged through a toolbox in the back and then pulled out something, which looked like an iron spike twisted to form a candlestick. He retrieved another item from the wagon bed and offered it to her. “Have a keepsake.”
“A rock?” She smiled behind her scarf as she cupped the gift in her gloved palm.
“Not just any rock; its galena. It’s even got silver in it.”
“Really?” She peered over the side of the wagon, and saw even more rocks. They hadn’t been there when they’d started out on their journey, and she wondered when he’d collected them, and why? Did he think they were valuable? “Why did you put all these rocks in here?”
“The wagon had needed more weight to keep it in place when I attached the pull
ey to pull you up, and since we had an abundance of rocks up there, I put them to good use. I had a lot more, but I pushed all the bigger ones out.”
“Oh. I thought… Never mind.” Penny tucked the fist-sized rock into the deep pocket in her cape. Maybe it wasn’t worth much, but she would treasure anyway, just because he gave it to her. Though she wouldn’t tell him that, of course.
He offered his arm, and after a short hesitation, Penny looped her own arm through his and allowed him to escort her along a winding path, which led to the mine entrance.
As they approached, she saw the carts remained idle again today, and heard no noise coming from the stamp mill below, and wondered at the lack of obvious activity.
“Did you give the men two days off?”
“Two days? They’re lucky to have one. They’re inside the mine, I suspect, getting ready to blast that new tunnel, which is why we won’t be staying long.”
The wind gusted against her, as if to hold her back from the mine, and she hugged her cloak to prevent it from whipping around her. “I can’t believe they’re working in this weather.”
Charlie put his arm around her and drew her to his side, so that his body blocked the wind as they walked. “You’re starting to sound like Silas. He complained constantly about the cold.”
“It is cold, Charlie.”
“Yeah, I know, but the railroad isn’t extending that deadline, and if we don’t find more gold, they’ll bypass Noelle…no matter how many men get married. We can’t afford to sit out the winter. It’s a matter of survival.”
She gazed up at him, noting the determination etched on his face. He couldn’t be very comfortable out here either, but from what she’d heard, Charlie spent every day up at the mine, working alongside his crew. “I very much admire your persistence, and even more so because you’re doing this for Noelle and the people who depend on the town for their livelihood.”
The widening of his eyes conveyed his surprise. “Is that a compliment I hear? I’m surprised you found something about me admirable.”
