by Paty Jager
****
Ethan whistled as he dismounted in front of the Sumpter telegraph office. He pulled the paper with his advertisement out of his pocket and pushed open the door. At the rate they laid the track, their first ore cart would dump next week. He’d hoped to have the miners work, but they all wanted to keep on digging in their mines. If he could find a handful of competent men, they could still pull a good profit and pay the help.
He handed his advertisement for the Bedrock-Democrat, the Baker City newspaper, to the telegraph agent.
“This is kind of long,” the man said as he tapped the pencil to count each word. He looked up. “This would cost you less to ride to Baker City and hand it over to the newspaper office.”
“I don’t have time to ride to Baker City.” Ethan waved his hand. “Just send the message and tell me what I owe.”
The staccato taps of the telegram being sent lifted one more burden from his life. The extra dollar was worth knowing the advertisement would be in print in the morning and hopefully men would apply for jobs either by the end of tomorrow or the following day.
That meant he’d have to hang around the office in the afternoon and the following day to interview, or have Clay or Hank—no, he would.
His body heated thinking of what Aileen had promised tonight, and what they could explore tomorrow if he hung around the office.
“Ahem.”
Ethan shook off the thoughts and focused on the man holding out his hand.
“I said, that’ll be a dollar twenty-five.”
He dug into his pocket and pulled out the appropriate coins. “Will they acknowledge they received the message?”
“You didn’t ask me to ask for a reply.” The man huffed back to his chair and tapped out a brief message. “There. Should hear back from them in a minute or two.”
Ethan nodded his head. “I’ve got a couple things to pick up at the mercantile. I’ll swing back by before I head out.” The man nodded and went back to writing in a journal.
Tucking the advertisement back in his pocket, Ethan headed to the mercantile. He should take favors to their dinner hostess and her children. He’d thought on it all the way into town. Yep. It was the thing to do.
The bell over the mercantile door jangled as he pushed the door open and wandered inside. He knew exactly what he would get Shayla and Colin. A doll and a knife. But their mother… he wasn’t sure.
The last time he’d strolled at his leisure up and down between the tables gawking at the wares had been years ago as a child. These days, he hurried to the counter, handed the clerk his list, and went about other errands while they filled his order. Scanning the dolls and carved wooden horses, memories of a simpler time washed over him. A time when he’d only thought about the moment and how he could torment his brothers or cajole another piece of pie out of his mother. He’d entered this store a hundred times with his parents and wished for things he knew he’d never have but enjoyed the dreaming.
He shook his head. The day his parents died all the fun had been stripped from his life. The only dream he wished to fulfill had been his father’s. Make the Halsey name something to be proud of.
He’d become a parent at too young an age. Granted his brothers were grown and didn’t require his fatherly care. But once he started looking out for them— he couldn’t stop.
“What brought you to town?”
The familiar voice yanked him back to the present. He smiled and then remembered their last parting. His face heated with embarrassment.
“I sent a telegraph to the Bedrock-Democrat advertising for workers at the mill.” He tipped his hat to Myrle and made his decision. He plucked a pretty, blonde-haired doll from the table and a set of wooden dominoes. It would be better to work Colin’s mind than to give him a weapon.
“You’ve made that much progress?” Myrle asked, her gaze resting on the toys in his hands.
She wasn’t talking about the mill. Not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him flustered again, he took her by the elbow, escorting her down the aisle toward the women’s fripperies.
Loudly he said, “Yes, the mill will be ready to start running the end of the week.” In a lower voice he added. “Help me pick out something that would be good as a thank you gift to Aileen.”
Myrle tittered and pointed to a pretty set of handkerchiefs. “I assume this is a thank you gift and not a ‘hoping this will lure you into my bed’ gift.”
Ethan stared down at the pint-sized woman. He wanted to—Who was he fooling. The thought had crossed his mind. He lowered his chin, hiding his face in the shadow of his hat brim. Was he just buying gifts to bribe Aileen? He probed into his actions.
He stared Myrle in the eye. “Aileen is making dinner tonight for Clay, Hank, and myself. I figure it’s the least I could do.” He held up the box of wooden tiles. “And Colin has been doing the work of a man, so I figured I’d give him something fun.” He shook the box. “After dinner, we can all play the game.” He raised the doll up, glanced at the happy face and smiled. “And Shayla, well, she just deserves a doll.”
Myrle patted his arm. “I apologize for the way my thoughts were running.” She picked up the fancy handkerchiefs and placed them in his hand. “When you do decide to follow your feelings—be careful neither one of you gets hurt.” She tucked her basket of goods in the crook of her arm and marched out the door.
Her words sunk into his belly like a large fist. Who could get hurt and why? He started toward the door.
“You going to pay for that or just waltz right out of here?”
Ethan glared at the clerk and stomped to the counter. It didn’t help his mood any to have the man’s eyebrows raise at the sight of his purchases.
“You aren’t getting none to friendly with that husband killer are ya? “ The clerk pushed the items together and held his hand out. “That’ll be three seventy-five.”
Holding the money back just far enough so the man had to lean over the counter, Ethan said, “Aileen Miller isn’t a husband killer and her children shouldn’t be treated poorly because you all have nothing better to do than listen to false rumors.”
The clerk snatched the money and handed him back his change.
Ethan dropped the change in his pocket and remembered the advertisement. “Hang this up where people can see it.” He handed the paper to the clerk and left the establishment with his gifts tucked under his arm.
It appeared the women of the town weren’t threatened by Aileen, but the male population was running scared. He snickered. That was fine with him. They’d keep their distance. And with luck, the women in the community would welcome Aileen into their circles. For all her claims to like being alone, she’d hung on every word Mrs. Fellowes said.
Shoving the gifts into his saddlebag, he mounted and headed home. He planned to shave and look sharp for dinner. Thinking of what might happen after the meal, he nudged his horse into a canter.
Chapter 19
Aileen stood in her bedroom, dressed only in her shift, using cold water to sponge off the day’s sweat and dirt. The roast was in the oven. The mouth-watering aroma filtered through the rooms mixing with the scents of soda bread and pastries stuffed with wild berry preserves.
She brushed her hair until it crackled with life. A small hand mirror propped on the wash stand allowed her to see her reflection. She dug into her jar of pomade, rubbed it between her hands, then smoothed down the wayward strands, taming her curls. Twisting the hair at the sides of her head, she drew them back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She peered into the small mirror one more time.
Presentable. That’s what she was and all she’d be. The lovely, young Highlander who captured the heart of an Irish lad had disappeared. In her place stood a woman who’d been through more than any one person should in a life time. Sighing, she pulled on her best cotton blouse and stepped into the only skirt she owned that didn’t have a stained hem.
“Momma! Momma!” Shayla burst into the room.
“What
darlin’?” Aileen hastily buttoned her top and glanced down at the glowing face of her daughter.
“When are they gonna get here?” Shayla skipped around the room, dragging her hand across the worn blanket and ruffling the trousers and dress hanging from pegs on the wall.
Aileen stopped her daughter just as she started to smack a hand into the bowl of water on the washstand. “They’ll be here sooner, if ye find somethin’ to occupy yerself.”
“I’ve done everythin’.” She bowed her head, and her small lips formed a pout.
“Darlin’ have ye drawn a picture for Mr. Halsey?” She laughed at the surprised expression on her child’s face.
“No! He’p me get some paper.” Shayla captured her hand, dragging her out into the living quarters. She found the sheets of paper Ethan gave them to work numbers on and practice writing. She gave Shayla one without any marks and a pencil.
“Think careful afore ye start. Ye’ll no’ get another piece.” She laughed at the small furrowed brow and moved into the kitchen to check on things one last time. Truth be told, she was anxious for their visitors to arrive as well.
This would be the first time she hosted a meal since leaving Ireland. Patrick had invited many of their friends over several times a week before—she shook her head. Tonight was not a night to dwell on the past. Tonight—she placed a hand on her fluttering heart—could give her something she hadn’t realized she craved. The closeness of a man and woman.
The outside door opened. Colin entered, from the top of his knit cap right down to his boots, he was covered in dirt.
“Take off yer bits and use the water in my room to wash.”
“I liked the shack better. You weren’t so bossy about being clean.” Scowling, Colin sat down to unlace his boots.
“The only reason ah allowed ye to behave like a heathen was ah dinnae give a care about the place. This isn’t ours. We’re usin’ it and therefore need to take care o’ it.” She waved the spoon in her hand toward the door. “Put yer bits aside the door and go wash up.”
His muffled stomp brought a smile. When would the boy learn a man doesn’t always have to huff around?
She scanned the set table. She’d dug to the bottom of her trunk to find the matching plates that traveled over the ocean with her. Patrick’s mother had given her the dishes on their wedding day. She swiped at the tear tickling the corner of her eye.
Her life had changed drastically after his death. She finally believed she might have some control. That is if she could figure out what to do about the man who crept into her thoughts at all hours of the day and night.
The sound of voices in the other room sent her thoughts flying and her hands to smooth out the apron covering her thread-bare clothing. She’d used the material Mrs. Fellowes brought for curtains to make the garment. She’d had to hurry through the chores, but the result was worth it. The cheerful yellow gingham brightened her whole outlook.
The door from the main room opened, and Ethan’s head peaked through. “Smells delicious in here.” His gaze roamed from her feet up to her hair. “And looks even better.”
She couldn’t squelch the grin tugging at her lips. “Ye dinnae look half bad yerself.” He’d cleaned up. His face looked smooth and inviting. She took a couple steps closer and breathed in the scent of fresh-shaven man. Shave soap with a hint of bay rum.
He took a couple steps toward her. Desire smoldered in his eyes. Would he take her in his arms? She held her breath. Even as she willed him to, she hoped he didn’t.
“Momma! Look what Mr. Halsey brought me!” Shayla burst into the room with an expensive, fragile doll. “She’s beautiful!” Shayla hugged the toy to her and whirled around the room.
“Ye shouldn’t have given the lassie such an expensive gift.” When Aileen was pregnant with the child, she’d imagined all the fine things she’d give her. The enthralled face and bright eyes on her daughter brought tears to her eyes. If only she could have brought that joy to her.
“Shhh… There’s no need to cry. I brought you a gift as well.” The joking tone jerked her attention to the man who’d skillfully placed his arm around her shoulders. She spun from the embrace and glared at him.
“Gifts will no’ bring ye in favor with me.” She pushed the words out between her clenched teeth.
Ethan raised his hands, holding the boxed handkerchiefs in the air. “I didn’t bring gifts to put me in favor. Honest.” Lowering his arms, he watched Aileen breath in and out, expanding her chest and bringing her attributes to the forefront of his thoughts, when he was trying his hardest not to think of the invitation she’d given earlier.
“Then what do ye call the doll for the lassie and…” she pointed to the box in his hand.
“These are gifts from Hank, Clay, and me to you, Shayla, and we gave Colin dominoes.” He offered the box of frippery to her, hiding a grin as she eyed the offering, then him, then the gift. She wanted to take it. Her eyes had lit up at the sight of the feminine scraps of cloth.
“There are no strings attached to this gift. It is a thank you for making us dinner.”
“Nae, ah be makin’ dinner for all yer help with movin’ and offerin’ a place for us to live.” She touched the lace edge of the handkerchief.
“Don’t they have customs in Ireland or Scotland where guests invited to dinner bring gifts?”
“Aye.”
If she was going to be ornery, he could too. “Then take the box and get back to cooking, my stomach is grumbling.”
Hank walked through the open door followed by Colin and Clay.
“Are you all eating while we’re in the other room explaining how to play dominoes?” Hank nodded to Aileen and watched Ethan.
“We’re just discussing etiquette of dinner guests.” Ethan took the doll Shayla handed him and scrutinized the porcelain face, but kept an eye on Aileen.
She shot him a scowl that should have landed him on the ground, before she turned a sweet smile on his brothers. “Have a seat. ’Tis nearly ready.” She set the box high on a shelf where it would be out of the way and opened the oven door.
He hurried to her side to help lift the heavy pot with the roast. “Let me get that.”
She swatted at his hands, set her mouth in a determined line, and reached for the pot with towels in her hands. “Sit down like a gentleman and let me do my job.”
Defeated and feeling foolish, he sat in a chair and tried to ignore the smirks and raised eyebrows of his brothers. What was it about this woman that made him do things he wouldn’t normally do? Like offer to help in the kitchen. This was her kitchen, and she obviously had everything under control.
He snorted. She’d proved stronger than him. Hank and Clay had nearly busted their jaws when their mouths fell open at the gifts he told them were from all three of them. After the initial shock, they badgered him all the way here.
Now, they each watched him as he worked to keep his gaze from straying to Aileen bent over, reaching into the oven. He turned his attention to Colin.
“How many more cross members will it take to get your track finished?” He received a nod of approval from Hank and an enthusiastic squaring of shoulders by Colin.
“By my figures we’ve got two hundred feet left to go and setting a cross member every three feet…” Colin drew the numbers on the table cloth with his finger, then raised his head. “I figure it would be best to have about seventy more. That’s a couple extra for spots that need more stabilizing.”
“You’re a quick learner,” Clay said as Aileen placed the sliced meat on the table along with soda bread, preserves, and boiled potatoes.
Ethan stood, starting a chain reaction as his brothers rose and then Colin while they waited for Aileen to take off her apron and slide into the vacant chair beside him.
When they were seated, Ethan waited to see if Aileen expected a blessing. She pushed the plate of meat towards him without glancing his way.
They all started filling plates and then their bellies. After the pla
tes held only crumbs, Clay groaned. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long while.
Aileen smiled and stood. Ethan bolted out of his chair, but the other three males just groaned and leaned against their chair backs.
As long as he was standing, he grasped empty dishes and headed to the drain board.
“There’s no need to help,” Aileen said, brushing past him.
“I’m up and could use the movement after all the food I ate.” He returned to the table for another load.
“Ah baked these today as well.” Aileen sat a heaping plate of baked goods on the table.
Clay groaned again and slowly leaned forward to take one. “I’m stuffed, but these look too good not to at least try.”
Hank took one as well.
“Tea?” Aileen asked.
Ethan settled back in his chair and plucked a pastry oozing with preserves. “I’ll take some.”
“Me too,” Hank added.
Clay just shook his head.
Ethan watched her move about the kitchen. He liked how she took charge. The fact she didn’t appear to be thinking at all about her comment that morning bothered him. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. In fact, his body heated at the memory of the kiss.
She carried two cups and saucers to the table. She placed one in front of Hank and as she leaned over to place one in front of him, their gazes locked. She was thinking about it!
The desire burning in her eyes was hard to ignore. But he had to with her children and his brothers sitting at the table.
The cup and saucer rattled when she finally set them on the table. She grabbed her apron, dipping her head elegantly through the loop, and tied it behind her. When she started pumping water, Ethan stood again.
“Hank, Clay why don’t you go in and play a couple games of dominoes with these two while I help Aileen with the dishes.” Luckily, Colin and Shayla thought it was a great idea and hurried to the door calling the men to join them.
Hank passed him on his way to the door. “Make sure all you do is dishes,” he said in a low voice.
