Footsteps ahead caused her to slow her gait, and she studied the trail until Simon came into view. Her ire returned. As soon as he approached, she reared her foot back and kicked the blasted man in the shin.
He yelped like a wounded puppy and jumped back to rub his leg. “What was that for?”
“You’re lucky I don’t castrate you.” She glared and stalked past, leaving him to bask in his newfound fear of her. Bully the man she left behind. He could stay there wallowing in pain until another logger found him for all she cared. She picked up speed to make it to camp before he caught up with her.
Inside she fought the urge to cry. If she showed up in camp with tears, Aunt June would demand an answer and eventually learn the truth behind her tardy appearance to bed last night. Not only would she demand Simon marry her right then, she’d spread the news.
While Aunt June didn’t mean to gossip, she couldn’t seem to find a balance for the space between her brain and her mouth. In the past, Carrie had found that trait about her godmother endearing. Today she found it downright annoying. She needed someone to talk over her emotions with. She couldn’t go to Beth. God only knew what her friend would say when she learned Carrie had given in to her brother’s skillful seduction, even if only a little.
Hell, Beth might even demand marriage. But Carrie didn’t want to marry Simon. Didn’t want to marry anyone. She wanted to be like Aunt June—a rich old spinster, hiding away in the mountains. A place where one could simply be themselves.
Not Carrie. Here, even the trees seemed to think she needed a husband—as evidenced by the pine that had held her upright last night as Simon tortured her. Okay, she’d let him tease her sensually. But the pine didn’t know that.
She rounded the bend, expecting to see Aunt June in her usual position over the fire, but she was nowhere to be seen. Liquid in a pot above the flames bubbled over, and Carrie hurried to lift the contents from the grate and set the pot on a large stone next to the cook pit.
“Carrie!” She recognized Simon’s voice before she saw him rush toward her from the trail where she’d left him behind.
“What?” She stood square to him, and plopped her hands on her hips like Aunt June did all too often during the day.
Simon surveyed the camp before lowering his head closer to hers. His warmth immediately ensconced her like an embrace. She needed to step back, but her feet wouldn’t move. Deadbeat feet.
“You’re angry with me?” He traced the back of her hand with one finger. Her skin tingled wherever he touched. She yanked her hand away from his. He must have known the effect he had on her, because his eyes fired with lust, no doubt aimed to remind her of her indiscretion. “You didn’t seem to mind my touch last night.”
“A mistake I will not make twice, but that’s not why I’m going to kick you again.”
Simon stepped back, but a wicked smile stretched across his face. “Then why the violence all of a sudden? If you wish to play that way, I can accommodate. It’s not usually my style, but I aim to please. In more ways than one.”
She took what she hoped was a menacing step forward and glared. “If you think I’m going to let you touch me again just so you can go bragging to the crew about your conquest, you’ve another think coming. I won’t let you ruin my reputation to accommodate your game of revenge.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t told a soul.” The arrogant gleam in his eye disappeared, and he squinted in concentration. He took a step closer and grabbed her shoulders like Jake had, only with Simon the touch was soft and more protective. “What happened?”
Could she trust Simon’s denial? He’d never betrayed her before, but he was not the same as he had been through years past. “You’re telling me you didn’t brag to that river rat Jake about kissing me last night?”
The muscle in Simon’s jaw flexed before he answered. “No. What happened?”
“He knew what we did across the lake and felt as though I was free game to any who wishes to destroy me. Or claim me, apparently.” Tears filled her eyes, and she no longer tried to hold them back. She shook her head. “I won’t compromise myself for anyone in this camp. Anyone.”
She hoped he got the point.
His face went red and he widened his stance. “Where? What did he do to you?”
She shuddered. With a voice to match her tears, she answered, “I was picking huckleberries. He kissed me and pawed at me as if I was his for the taking. Sort of like what you did last night.”
“I would never do anything to you that you don’t want me to. But I will kill Jake for touching you.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” She folded her arms over her chest. Partly to block the feel of Jake’s hands violating her, partly to show Simon she was serious. “I didn’t drag you all the way up here so you can go and commit murder and go to jail.”
“Accidents happen all the time in a logging camp.”
“That man better not end up dead.”
Simon didn’t answer, but stared at something behind her with a far-off look in his eyes. He took a moment of silence before stepping back and turning his gaze to her. “Don’t leave the camp. Don’t go anywhere. And do not let anyone come visit you. Not even your beau Thomas.”
“Don’t do anything that is going to get yourself arrested.”
Simon’s hard stare didn’t falter. Whatever was going through his head dominated his thoughts. “Even if I do, it won’t be the first time someone threatened me with the hoosegow. I’ll be fine.”
“Simon.” She said his name in warning, but he ignored her and ran up the trail. Leaving her to stare at his retreating back. She bit the tip of her thumb while she stared at the now empty trail where he had disappeared. Where was he going? She wanted to follow, to try to talk him out of whatever he had planned, but in all honesty, she didn’t want to leave the safety of the camp even if Simon hadn’t forbade it.
Carrie hugged herself around her stomach and viewed the empty camp. Where had Aunt June gone, and what was Simon going to do once he found Jake? The tears she had suppressed changed course and formed a lump in her throat. This whole season was a disaster as big as the mountain they lived on.
Chapter 10
The gentle ding of bells, ringing in tune to the thump of off-balance wagon wheels, filled the camp. Carrie searched the men, now settling in for their usual after-supper rituals. Simon wasn’t among them. The need to chew on her now ragged thumbnail itched her finger. She bit her lip against the urge.
Aunt June emerged from her cabin, yanked her apron over her head, and hung the apron on the peg. She kept her head turned in the direction of the noise. Carrie followed her stare as a colorful wagon bedecked in trinkets and pictures of scantily dressed women rolled into view.
At the sight of the wagon, some of the men whooped, leapt to their feet, and ran toward the end of the path leading down the mountain, while others ran toward the Bonner camp. In the midst of the chaos, the five Devil May Cares who had gone down the river the week before leapt from the wagon and disappeared into the crowd.
Carrie caught Aunt June’s gaze and ran toward her. “Who’s that?”
“Bud McGill, and it looks like he brought back Wall and the boys. Garrett said the train hasn’t been able to take a load down since the pulley stopped working. They probably hitched up with Bud to get back up here.” Aunt June ran a hand over her frayed tendrils of hair and straightened her shoulders. “Bud is a traveling merchant who comes up here whenever he’s in town. He always brings me fresh produce from the Bonner market and only charges me the same price he bought it for.”
“Aunt June. Such shameful behavior. Getting a man to deliver your goods for free. Why, you’re no better than Beth bamboozling her way up here last year,” Carrie teased.
“Well, she got her man, didn’t she.” Aunt June looped her arm through Carrie’s and tugged her toward the newcomer. “Now
, come help me carry the potatoes.”
Carrie searched the men for Simon, but as before he wasn’t among them. Her heart sank. Had he done something brash? He’d left in a worrisome state earlier. If it were last year before his accident, she would have waved off his threat as nothing but a manly outburst. With him at this point in his life, however, there was no telling what he was capable of doing.
Carrie approached the wagon with her godmother as the man set the brake and leapt from his seat. He yanked his hat from his head and bowed. “Miz June. I think you’ll be happy with today’s find.”
“Oh?” Aunt June waggled her shoulders and dropped Carrie’s arm. “We missed you last year.”
The man clutched his heart. “Had I been able to make it out this far, I would have been here for you. But alas, I was stuck in Oregon.”
Carrie let the smile stretch on her face. She’d never seen her godmother act like such a giddy schoolgirl before. Not even when Simon charmed her did she react with such childish glee.
“So what have you got for me?” Aunt June’s hungry eyes roamed first the man and then the wagon. Carrie stifled a giggle with the back of her hand.
“Peaches.” Bud smiled as if the word was a precious secret he had kept for Aunt June. He undid a latch on the side of the wagon and opened it to reveal a plethora of trinkets and treasures. The men already near the wagon began to crowd.
Bud’s secret must have been quite a doozy, because Aunt June answered with an equally enthusiastic nod and smile. She rubbed her hands together and peeked over the man’s shoulder as if searching for her treasure. “I knew you’d be back this summer and bring me something delightful.”
“Don’t I always?” The man dropped the back gate to his wagon, reached in, and pulled out a crate overflowing with the promised fruit.
“You can give it to my assistant cook and goddaughter, Carrie.” Aunt June pointed right at her. She stepped forward with arms extended.
“No, no.” Bud shook his head. “This one’s a bit heavy. Why don’t you grab that sack o’taters in there, and I’ll help Miz June with this load?”
“What about the men and your trinkets?” Carrie thought the question a practical one, but by the looks on Bud’s and Aunt June’s faces, she was alone in her thoughts.
“I trust this lot of men not to steal from me.” Bud smiled—his eyes transfixed on Aunt June—and followed as she headed toward the cook fire. Carrie made short work of grabbing the potatoes. She didn’t want to miss the exchange between the two smitten souls.
If nothing else, at least she could have something to razz Aunt June about for the remainder of the season. By the time she reached the cook fire, the pair were already returning to the wagon. Depositing the potatoes next to the crate of peaches, she ran back to the now thick group of loggers around the new visitor.
She muscled her way through the crowd of men, as much as a woman of her stature could, and stopped to peer into the wagon. To the right, rows of beautifully arranged jewels shimmered in the sun, but the men mostly ignored those. All but the occasional man who no doubt planned to send a trinket back to his sweetheart at home.
On a shelf above, vials of medicine took some attention, while further down a cache of knives and weapons were plucked one by one from their position, only to be set down and picked up again by another hand.
As Carrie perused the goods, a hand floated before her sight, clutching one of the bejeweled pieces. She looked up into Thomas’s face. “A beautiful piece for a beautiful woman.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She shook her head.
“I bought it for you.”
“I don’t know where I would wear such finery up here.”
“You could wear it when you come for a walk with me this evening.”
She didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings, but this was too much. Too intimate. “I can’t take that. It’s not proper of me.”
“I bought it because it matched your eyes.” Without stopping to ask, he stepped behind her and looped it around her neck to fasten it. “I also saw you admiring it a few minutes ago.”
He stepped around to face her and smiled.
She mentally stumbled through a list of excuses to return the personal gift. A gift that made her uncomfortable, to say the least.
“The color brings out the sparkle in your eyes,” he said with pride. “I won’t tell you how much I spent on the little piece of beauty, but I couldn’t bear to see it on any other woman.”
She opened her mouth again but snapped it shut when he placed his clammy fingers over her lips. “You are too modest, my dear. It suits you. I will not hear another argument.”
“Carrie!” She heard the feminine call above the dull rumble of the men’s voices, and she all but cried out in relief. She looked past Thomas to find Beth waving at her from outside the crowd.
Thomas too must have noticed Beth’s call, for he turned a quick eye to her, and then faced Carrie. She caught a scowl before he masked it with indifference.
“If you’ll excuse me. I’ve needed to speak with Beth all day.”
“Of course.” Thomas gave a quick bow with his head, but his neck remained stiff with the movement. “I’ll see you after supper.”
She smiled her response, ducked low to avoid the jagged elbows thrown haphazardly in every direction, and picked her way back out of the group. Every fiber of her muscles seemed to ease the farther away she grew from Thomas. Why couldn’t she tell the amorous logger once and for all she wasn’t interested? Why wouldn’t he take her rejection for what it was? In all her life she’d hated to disappoint others, and she’d let her amorous suitors be shuffled off by her father and, she suspected, Simon. But Thomas was different. She needed to take care of her own problems. Needed to let him down personally before he started to believe they had something more than they did.
Why had she ever let him think she was interested in him?
“This is quite a sight,” she said as she reached Beth. Carrie ran another eye over the mayhem.
“Garrett says Bud doesn’t come every year, but when he does it’s a good time for the loggers to stock up on supplies and whatever else they feel the need to buy.” Beth motioned with her head toward something behind Carrie.
Carrie frowned as Simon handed money to Bud and pocketed a bottle of amber liquid. Her face grew hot. She didn’t want to be upset about his drinking, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed. His debauchery was what had brought him to this place in his life. She didn’t care if he drank, but could he do it without spiraling back down the same path he’d taken in Missoula?
“Sometimes the men send people to get them things when they are too busy to show up themselves. Maybe it’s not his,” Beth supplied.
“Perhaps. I think I’ll go ask him.”
Beth gave a pathetic smile, and Carrie started toward the wayward man in question. Ready to give him an earful if needed.
To her irritation, he rounded the other side of the wagon following Bud. She followed. The voices of the men behind her seemed to fade as she slipped around the corner of the wagon.
“Carrie!” Simon exclaimed with a toothy smile on his face.
She narrowed her eyes. What was he so happy about?
She opened her mouth to ask him the question burning in her mind when the soft bark of a puppy sounded.
“Perfect timing. Pick one.” Simon motioned toward the inside of the wagon.
Carrie peeked in to see the wiggling bodies of four small puppies. Small enough to fit in a saddlebag, and fluffy enough to sleep with on a cold night. “They are darling! Where’d they come from?”
“From a butcher’s wife over near Bozeman. Had four too many, so I took them off her hands. They’re a hungry little bunch. Can’t stop eating to save their lives. Which one do you fancy, young lady?” Bud stood tall and watched the little pups.
&n
bsp; “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“You gotta. This young man’s already paid me. I’m afraid in my line of business, there are no returns. Pick one.” Bud glanced behind where she and Simon stood. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to attend to my other customers.”
She locked eyes with Simon. Her heart soared. He knew she loved animals. Although he’d acted like an uncouth ruffian the last few months, she knew that somewhere deep inside was the same considerate man she had known from before. This only proved as much.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to find something else on the wagon to purchase?”
“I could get you a necklace, but I see some other poor soul has tried to woo you with finery. Was it Thomas?” Simon clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shook his head. “Shame he doesn’t know the woman he’s trying to romance.”
“I like fine things as much as the next woman.” Carrie tugged the necklace away from the back of her neck. Its delicate chain hung heavy against her skin. As heavy as the guilt in her heart allowed it to be.
As Simon tilted his head, his expression softened. “Take a pup, Carrie. He’s not a fine jewel to mark you as mine. It’s a gift from a friend. And if it’s feeding him you’re worried about, I can give him half my meal. Aunt June would probably bop me over the head, but I’d risk her wrath so you could finally get that dog you’ve always wanted.”
Carrie heard his words, but her mind was only half-listening. The other half concentrated on the animals. Searching for the perfect match. “What will my parents say when I come home with a dog? They were the ones who forbade me to have one in the first place.”
“Well, he could stay at my place when we’re in town. My grandmother won’t care. She’s already written the home over to me.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
Simon stepped closer and bowed his head near hers. His voice lowered as he spoke. “Not just for you. If you have a puppy, then I look a bit manlier when I come and play with him. My men will never know I’m visiting you to pet your pup.”
Wild Passion Page 11
