by Paty Jager
She shoved a cup in his hand. It was warm and the steam wafting up, tickling his nose, smelled sweet. “Drink. It will set ye to rights.”
He raised the cup to his lips and looked into her concerned eyes. What was he to do? He’d told his brothers he was courting the woman. And he wanted to, but he’d planned to do it until she left and then continue on with his single life.
Studying the angel-kissed face watching him with concern, he knew there was no way he’d be able to let this woman walk out of his life. He loved her and her children. He gulped the hot liquid, hoping it would do more than set things right, but also help him find a way to prove his love and hopefully keep her from going back to Ireland.
Chapter 21
Aileen handed out papers to six men throughout the day as they came to interview for a job at the mill. A couple of the men she knew from town or through Mr. Miller.
She put check marks on the information of the men who treated her poorly. If Ethan still hired them after she told him her feelings, she would pack up and head back to the shack. Nothing would make her be subjected to that kind of treatment again. She’d learned to stand up for herself, and she wasn’t about to let the likes of those men change her newfound courage.
The door opened as she shuffled the papers into a pile. Clay entered the office. The glower on his face would have made Shayla run for cover. His stilted movements showed his agitation.
“I’m bringing a bed in for your room. I’m going to bring it through the kitchen. Move the table to the side so we can carry it in.” His words were sharp.
“Ah don’t understand? Ah dinnae order a bed?” His agitation was rubbing off on her.
“Ethan ordered me to get it this morning and bring it here to go in your room.”
Anger bubbled fast and hot. “Ah dinna ask for it, and ah’m no’ takin’ it!” She stomped past Clay and into the cold, fall air. “Where’s the eejit?” She scoured the area around the mill looking for Ethan. The gall of the man to order up a bed thinking she would fall into it with him.
She found him striding toward the office with Colin on his heels. Confronting him with the laddie nearby wasn’t the best of plans, but her reputation was at stake.
Crossing her arms and taking a stance in their path, she waited for Ethan to get close enough she didn’t have to raise her voice.
“What is the meanin’ of puttin’ a bed in my room?”
Colin stepped to her side and squared up his young shoulders.
“It isn’t what you obviously think.” Ethan started to pass her. She reached out, stopping him with a firm grasp of his coat. “Ah told ye, ah’m no loose woman, and ye’ll no’ wiggle into my bed.”
Colin took a step toward Ethan. At his angry snarl, she turned her attention to her son. The fury in his young eyes scared her more than any beating she took from Mr. Miller. Fearing for Ethan, she stepped in front of him, forgetting her anger.
She put her hands out. “Colin, go on. ’Tis a riff ’tween Mr. Halsey and myself. Ye dinnae need to worry.” To emphasize she wasn’t scared of Ethan, she grasped his arm, pulling it around her midsection. It was a forward move on her part in the broad daylight with so many men milling about, but she couldn’t have her son thinking the man had or would do her any harm.
“Do as your ma says. You know she’s got a temper to go with her fiery hair.” A large hand smoothed her wayward strands. “Besides when she gets all riled up, I find it invigorating battling her with words not fists.” His comments warmed her more than his caress the night before. She never thought she’d find another man who enjoyed bantering with her.
Colin moved away with halting steps and as he did, Clay came striding up to them. “Kind of making a spectacle of yourselves, aren’t you?” He didn’t wave his hands, but his eyes rolled, emphasizing the fact the workers laying the last of the tracks were close enough to witness the exchange.
If Ethan’s arm hadn’t felt so secure and his warm, unyielding front hadn’t been pressed against her, she would have fled in mortification. But standing in his arms and facing his brother’s accusation, the rightness of the moment kept her from fleeing.
“We’re not making a spectacle, you are.” The first thing Ethan noticed when Aileen came charging toward him was the fact she didn’t wear a shawl. The wind had a bite to it today. When she’d stepped in front of him, he’d thought she was using him to brace against the wind, until he’d seen the rage in her son’s eyes. She’d stepped in front of him to protect him. He would have laughed if her fear hadn’t rippled in the air, and the boy’s stance and expression hadn’t seethed with fury.
Clay swung around, heading toward the wagon backed up to the kitchen door.
Aileen stiffened under his arm as he escorted her toward the wagon. To laugh would make her even more furious, but he found her anger over receiving a bed endearing and ridiculous.
“We received a telegram from my brother Zeke and his wife Maeve. They’re going to be here on Friday.” He stopped at the wagon and inspected the bed. Even though Clay didn’t approve of the office or Zeke and Maeve staying with Aileen, he’d purchased a well-stuffed mattress.
Aileen glanced at the bed and entered the house. He followed her. She spun in her tracks as soon as he’d cleared the threshold.
“Why are ye tellin’ me about yer kin when ah want to wrin’ yer bloody neck.” She threw her hands in the air and as he opened his mouth to comment, she started in again. “Ah see what yer up to and it won’t work on me. Ye can put that bag o’ stuffin’ in my house but ye cannae make me sleep on it.”
He couldn’t keep a laugh from bursting forth. Anger didn’t hamper her looks, it enriched them. He found her sainted words and wanton actions comical. He’d never come across such a contrary woman, and he’d never been so intrigued either.
“Hold on. Before you have me hogtied and strung up, can I tell you what’s happening?”
She crossed her arms under her ample breasts. Her light green eyes narrowed and her soft, rosy lips locked in a disapproving line.
“The bed will go in your room. We’ll move your cot in the room with Shayla. When Zeke and Maeve are here, I’d like them to stay here in your room on the big bed.” When she started to protest, he held up a hand. “It wouldn’t be proper for them to stay at the cabin with Hank, Clay, and I. We just have a one-room place with single cots. I figure they won’t stay more than a day or two and then you can have the bed, no strings or bodies attached.”
“So ye want me to cook for yer family? And act as their servant while they be here?” She uncrossed her arms and stalked toward him.
“No. I don’t want you to be their servant. I’m sure Maeve will pitch in and help with the cooking. I just want them to get to know you and you to know them. That’s all. And it would help me out to have them stay here.”
Clay pushed the door open with the mattress. “You two gonna talk all day or help me get this in the house.”
Ethan moved to help him, and Aileen shoved the table to the side of the room. He and Clay pulled in all the pieces to the bed while Aileen moved her cot into Shayla’s room.
“Ah’ve no bedding for a bed that size.”
He didn’t miss the wistful look in her eyes. She would enjoy sleeping on the mattress and stretching out across the expanse.
“Clay did you think to buy any?” Ethan turned to his brother who stood in the doorway watching them.
“No, didn’t think about it. Just got the best bed they had, like you said.”
Ethan dug into his pocket. “Take this and purchase whatever you need for the bed.” He held out several gold coins toward her.
“Nae! What would people think?” Her eyes widened in horror.
“They’d think you had a need for new bedding.”
“After yer brother bought a bed this morning. No one in Sumpter is that daft.”
“What did you say when you bought the bed?” he asked Clay.
“Said Zeke and Maeve were coming for a visit
, and you sent me to buy a bed.”
Ethan nodded. “See, everyone will know the bed is for company.”
“And they’ll all know it was brought here. For me.”
“Not for you. For company. I can’t help the fact you’ll be able to use it when Zeke and Maeve aren’t here.” He had to make her see reason. They needed bedding, and he wanted her to purchase it. To get what she liked.
“Take the money and go to Myrle. She can go to the mercantile with you if it makes you feel better.” Ethan turned. He was through wasting time over a simple thing. “Come on. We need to check out the tracks and decide who to hire.”
“Ah made marks on some o’ the papers.” The warning in her voice stopped him.
“Clay, I’ll meet you at Wilken’s tracks.” Clay frowned but he left.
“What do the marks mean?”
She moved past him, down the hall, and into the main room. Her hands twined round and round each other. Why was she so nervous?
“Aileen, what’s wrong?” He moved to draw her into his arms. She sidestepped him.
“Ethan, ah know ye grew up with most of these men, but they…” She turned, wringing her hands and avoiding eye contact.
He grasped her shoulder, making her look at him. “What do the marks mean?”
“The men with marks spoke to me like ah was a whore.” She glared at him. Her pale eyes sparked with indignation, and her spine snapped straight. “Ah’ll no’ be workin’ with men that dinnae treat me respectable.”
“I am running a business—” Her face reddened and her eyes narrowed. “If a man you’ve marked has worked in a stamp mill before, I need his knowledge, however—” He held up a hand as she started to speak. “I will let him know his job depends on showing you respect.” She opened her mouth to speak, again. “And if you tell me he isn’t, I’ll fire him.”
She studied him. Her silence squeezed his chest. Surely, she understood good business.
“Ah’ll accept this deal, but if one o’ yer workers lays a hand on me or speaks bad, ah’ll tell ye and if ye do nothin’, ah’ll no’ work nor live here.”
Ethan wasn’t surprised by her answer. She was a woman who wanted respect and deserved it.
“I agree.” He held out his hand to shake. When she tentatively placed her hand in his, he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. “I think a kiss would seal this agreement.” He lowered his head, capturing her sputtering lips.
This woman was influencing him in so many ways. And all good. Her hands clutched the front of his coat. If the darn thing wasn’t on, he’d feel her body mold to his… and there was a bed just down the hall…
As if she read his mind, her fingers uncurled, and she pushed gently against him, putting space between them.
“Mr. Halsey, ye have work to do.” She touched her fingers to her lips and looked up at him.
“I do. And you have a trip to make to town.” He placed a gold eagle coin in her hand and curled her fingers around it. “Go to Myrle, tell her I asked you to purchase bedding for when Zeke and Maeve visit. She’ll go to the store with you and make certain no one gossips.”
Her eyes shimmered with uncertainty. “I’ll keep Colin busy. You and Shayla can have a nice afternoon in town.” He headed for the door to the office and stopped. “How much bedding do you need?”
The coin warmed Aileen’s palm. She didn’t want to do this, but knew by Ethan’s question he had no idea what was needed.
“Sheets, a blanket or two, cover, and pillows.”
“That’s too much for the two of you to carry.” The concern in his eyes would always please her. She’d spent too many years wondering if anyone would ever care about her well-being to not be affected.
“Do you know how to drive a wagon?”
“Aye.”
“Then take the wagon Clay used this morning.” He put up his hand as she started to object. “You are doing an errand for Cracker Creek Stamp Mill, there is no reason you shouldn’t use the equipment.”
“’Tis no’ necessary.” She took a step toward him. How was she to make him see, his generosity wouldn’t help her in the eyes of the community.
“I’ll not have you and Shayla packing all that. The wagon will be in front of the building when you get Shayla rounded up.” He left without giving her a chance to argue.
There were times when she wished she were a man so she could knock some sense into Ethan Halsey.
Chapter 22
A wagon stood in front of the building when Aileen and Shayla stepped out the door. One of the horses was tethered to the hitching post and not another person appeared in sight. She lifted Shayla onto the seat and untied the horse, wrapping the rope through a loop on the harness.
Lifting her skirt out of the way, she placed a foot on the tire spoke. She grasped the side of the wagon and bench to climb onto the seat. As she shoved off with the foot on the ground, hands circled her waist helping her upward momentum. They weren’t Ethan’s large hands.
She spun around as soon as her feet hit the solid footing of the wagon. Mr. Healy stood beside the vehicle, grinning his black-toothed smirk.
“Ah dinnae ask to be helped, and ah dinnae care to have yer hands on me.” She twisted the reins off the brake handle and held them ready to lash out at the man should he try to climb aboard the wagon.
“I heard you be headin’ to town and would like to offer my services as I’m headin’ that way as well.” He put his hand up as if to lever himself aboard.
She slapped his hand hard with the reins. “Ye can walk. Ah’ll drive myself.” Her backside barely brushed the seat before she smacked the leather straps on the rumps of the team, causing the wagon to lurch forward. He should not have touched her nor presumed she wanted him to drive. She’d have a word with Ethan about this man. He was trouble. She knew it the minute she laid eyes on him.
They passed the stamp mill. She kept her eyes forward though she badly wanted to seek out Ethan and tell him about the Irishman’s behavior. Shayla, however, gawked and waved.
“Who are ye wavin’ at?” Aileen asked, wanting to know just who watched them drive to town in Ethan’s wagon.
“Colin and Happy Man.” The child spun to sit on her knees and watched over the back of the seat as they moved on down the road.
“What are they doin’?” No sense in letting her aggravation fall upon her daughter.
“Colin’s puttin’ long sticks on the ground, and Happy Man is hitting them with a big hammer.”
Aileen wanted to turn and watch Ethan swing a hammer, but to stop in the road and turn and stare at the man would be worse than driving into town in his wagon and buying bedding for a bed he purchased.
A heavy sigh slipped between her lips. How had she managed to get caught up in such a mess? Not that long ago she was content with only her children and the pittance of gold they dug out of the ground. Greed had bound her to a man who didn’t want a family and for the first time in a long time made her believe there were good men.
That greed would also get them back to Colin’s rightful place—the O’Lear land.
“Momma, why’re you frownin’?” Shayla’s innocent question startled her.
“Ah’m thinkin’, darlin’.” Her goal since leaving Ireland was to reclaim Colin’s heritage. It would mean traveling back to Ireland and finding someone to bargain with the Englishman. Colin had the lawful claim to the land by birth, but she knew the man who stole the land would never willingly give it back. They would have to purchase it through another. He would never sell it back to an Irishman.
“What about?” The child’s question again pulled her out of her musings.
“Our future darlin’.” Today was a beautiful day if a bit cold. She pulled a wool blanket from under the seat and wrapped it around their legs. She’d dwell on their future another time. Right now she had to face the present and anyone who questioned her riding into town in a Halsey wagon.
****
Ethan stretched his back.
It felt like he’d been pounding rail stakes his whole life. First he’d hammered in the spikes for the mile of track from their mine to the stamp mill, then he’d helped a couple other miners, and now he and Colin were finishing the quarter mile track from the Miller mine to the stamp mill.
Colin looked up from where he knelt placing another spike in a hole. “If you’re too tired I could take a swing or two at this spike.”
The boy’d been hankering to drive a spike since they started on this line. Shrugging, he tipped the handle of the sledge hammer toward Colin. “I could use a break, just be careful you don’t hit your leg. You break your leg and your ma will break my head.”
The spindly lad grasped the handle in both hands and gave a yank. His far foot came up off the ground as he grunted. The heavy head of the hammer rose about as high as the boy’s ankles and fell back to the trampled grass.
Ethan kept his lips in a firm, straight line even though the corners ached to curve into a smile. The boy ignored him and picked up the mallet one more time. He managed to clear his ankles and make it about half way to his knees before the heavy tool fell back to the ground, narrowly missing his foot.
When Colin looked up at him, his gaze softened. Instead of the wariness and anger that made his eyes appear cold, they gleamed with admiration. “You’ve been swinging this hammer for almost two weeks solid.” The statement came out on a breathy sigh of reverence.
“Just because a man has strength doesn’t mean he has to use it in everything he does.” He uncorked the canteen and took a drink. “But every now and then, I like to put my body to the test. Makes it feel good.” And worn out. He wasn’t about to tell this upstart he went to bed tired so he wouldn’t think about his mother.
Mr. Healy and Clay walked toward them from the stamp mill. Ethan took the hammer from Colin and put the spike in with two swings. He didn’t like the way the Irishman riled Aileen that morning, and he didn’t like the fact that the man hung around after applying for a job. Especially, since he seemed to be poking around and not helping in any way.
