by Paty Jager
Her excitement didn’t squelch the fear crawling around in Hank’s chest. He’d stick to the ground jobs, and Kelda wouldn’t be topping any trees.
“Your father.” He’d distract her with the job they came to do. Find Arvid and get back to the camp.
She reluctantly drew her gaze from the man on the tree and scanned the area. “There.” Her finger pointed to two men swinging axes one then the other and taking huge chips out of a pine nearly ten feet in circumference. Kelda hurried forward, seemingly unfettered by the chaos of falling trees and men swinging shiny axe blades.
Hank had, until now, stayed in the camp. He wanted to be a logger. Wanted to be out in the woods swinging an axe and doing physical work, but he’d always found a reason to do jobs that kept him close to camp. Watching the unison of swinging axes and the rhythm of the men working the saws made Hank itch even more to be a part of this tradition. It also brought the realization this group of men knew their place and how to avoid the blades, saws, and falling trees as they worked in small groups.
His dawdling watching the men caused him to lose sight of Kelda. Worry for her, moved his feet faster. He dodged the tail end of a tree being dragged to the camp clearing by a pair of horses in time to see Kelda stopping the rhythmic movements of the two chipping away at the large pine.
As he approached the group, they watched him step over limbs and dodge a swinging axe. Hank realized how he handled himself in the woods would determine how far these men would follow him should the need arise. Heaven forbid there wasn’t a Nielsen around to run things until the last tree was harvested. But he also wanted the men’s respect not their pity or laughter.
He stopped a few feet from the trio. The young man smitten with Kelda worked with Arvid. Hank had learned Peder arrived a year ago from Norway. He was the son of Arvid’s best friend still in the homeland.
“Kelda says you have papers for me?” Arvid handed his axe to his daughter. “You and Peder finish.”
“Is that…” Before Hank could finish his sentence, Kelda peeled off the black woolen coat and picked up her father’s axe. It was obvious from Peder’s gaping mouth and wide eyes he hadn’t witnessed the woman’s prowess before.
She swung the axe, taking a large chip out of the trunk and nodded to Peder to fall into the rhythm. Peder’s first swing was ill set and his blade stuck in the wood, breaking Kelda’s stride.
“Peder if you can’t keep up with me, I’ll ask you to step back and let me do this myself.” Kelda smiled brightly, plucked his wedged blade from the trunk, and swept the man to the side. She squared up with the tree and swung her axe in long, biting strokes.
Hank followed the lines of her body as it whipped the axe above her head and brought it down into the tree, flinging woodchips and clearing a notch. He couldn’t believe she could lift an axe let alone swing it with such precision.
“The papers?” Arvid’s deep voice, laced with mischief, jolted Hank from his admiring assessment of Kelda.
“You shouldn’t have handed her your axe.” As much as he refused to admit she was good with an axe, he had to admire her skill.
“She loves the woods and is better than most of the men. She can’t hurt herself working on this one tree. Let her be. She enjoys it.” Arvid held out his hand. “The papers?”
Hank forced his gaze from Kelda and reached into his jacket, extracting the contract. “I’d like you to look this over and see if the numbers can be accomplished. I want to get this initialed at the mill in McEwen and signed by the owners in Baker City before old man Eccles seals up all the lumber mills in the area.”
While Arvid read the contract, Hank continued to watch Kelda.
A strong gust of cold winter wind bent the pines in the area causing the tree she notched to creak.
“Watch out!” Hank leapt forward, grabbing her arm and drawing her away from the tree.
Arvid burst out laughing. “That tree won’t topple. It’s stout as that mountain.”
Heat spread up Hank’s neck and into his cold cheeks. He peered into Kelda’s frowning face and slowly released his arms that were wrapped around her body.
“If this is how you behave in the woods, I suggest you stay at the camp with Paddy.” The tone wasn’t laughing like her father’s. Kelda peered at him with disapproval.
The scowl on Peder’s face lightened and he smiled. No doubt at the fact Kelda found disfavor with the boss.
Hank stepped back even as his hands wished to remain clasped around Kelda to make sure she was safe. He’d been taught to be a gentleman, but he knew, by the glint in the old man’s eyes and the flush that now bloomed on Kelda’s cheeks, his actions were beyond those of being a gentleman. He’d just shown the two he carried an attraction to the woman. It was a good thing he was headed to Baker City with the contract tomorrow. He needed space and time to sort out his actions.
He turned to Arvid and cleared his throat. “The contract. Can you, we, provide this amount of lumber in the time I specified?”
The thunk of axe on wood rang out behind him. He didn’t dare look for being mesmerized by Kelda’s skill.
“Ja. We will probably do even more, but is good to put a safe number on paper.” Arvid clapped a hand on Hank’s back and handed him the contract. “Go tend to the business of logging. We’ll tend to the falling.”
“I’ll head to Baker City tomorrow. I’ll be back here in a couple of days. Are there any supplies you need?”
“Ask Ingrid. She always has a list.” Arvid placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, stopping her rhythmic axe. “Take Mr. Halsey back to the camp and Mor.”
Kelda nodded and picked up her coat, shoving her arms in the sleeves before Hank could reach out and help. She walked back through the trees and chaos faster than their trip out, as if she wanted him to get stuck behind or perhaps hindered. He didn’t mind following. It gave him a chance to fully study and admire her graceful, muscled body. Her baggy clothing hid the muscles he knew powered the robust swings of the axe and the agility of her movements avoiding trees and near collisions with the other loggers.
Once out of the trees and crossing the camp yard, Hank doubled his stride to walk shoulder to shoulder with her. “I’m sorry I pulled you away from the tree, but my actions are exactly why it’s foolish for you to be in the woods. I’m sure I’m not the only man who’s tried to save you from harm.” The apology wouldn’t soften her obvious anger but it was warranted. Not only did it allow him to voice his concern but to also show her he wasn’t callous.
She stopped, fisted her hands on her hips, and stared at him. The deep green of her eyes flashed with anger and something he thought for a moment was embarrassment.
“Why can’t you be like other owners and stay in the office counting the trees and your money? No one else has cared if I work in the woods.”
“There are no trees to count. Every one of them is being used on the buildings for this camp.” His lips quivered to smile, but he remained determined not to let on her ire amused him.
She huffed. “Well, then stay here and make sure the buildings are fit for their uses.”
“I have longed to learn the logging trade. I’m not going to sit tight in the camp or the office while I have a firsthand ability to learn.” He hadn’t told Arvid of his long dream of being a logger. He wasn’t even sure where it came from, but he’d wanted to be a “beast of the woods.”
She cocked her head to one side and stared at him. Slowly a smile twitched and grew on her lips. Lips he’d dreamed about the last few nights. Lips that he knew would be sweet, soft and irresistible once he’d tasted them.
“You want to be a beast of the woods do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you better find a bunk when the workers’ cabins are done so you aren’t riding in here after a half a day’s work is done.” Her gaze raked him up and down. “Once the falling starts we work twelve to fourteen hours a day. As long as the sun’s shining.”
“Those hours don’t sca
re me. I’ve worked that and more at our mine.” He squared around to continue the verbal jousting.
“Mine. Then you know how to work a pick and not an axe.” Her toes pointed toward his and her flirty green eyes snapped with challenge.
“True, but I’m a quick learner.”
“You will need to be to stay out of trouble in the woods.”
“I won’t be getting into trouble as long as you stay in the kitchen.” There was no way her father or brothers could do their jobs if they were keeping an eye on Kelda in the woods. His decision to not allow her out there was a solid one.
Daggers flashed in her eyes. “You’ll have to start at the lowest jobs before you’ll be allowed to work with Karl or Dag. It’s how they determine if you’re cut out to be a beast.” Her gaze drifted over him as though assessing his skills.
Hank’s palms itched to reach out and push the golden strand of hair fluttering in the wind back under her scarf.
“Kelda, if you are done showing Mr. Halsey around I need your help.” Mrs. Nielsen stuck her head out of the cookhouse door.
Hank flinched at the realization they stood staring into one another’s eyes. He cleared his throat and turned to the woman as Kelda scurried past her mother and into the building. “Mrs. Nielsen. I’m taking the contract to Baker City tomorrow, are there any supplies you need?”
A smile much like her daughter’s lit the woman’s face. “Ja. It is Arvid’s birthday on Saturday, I would like to make his favorite lefse, but I need more potatoes.”
“Anything else?” Hank couldn’t help but get caught up in Mrs. Nielsen’s excitement over her husband’s birthday.
She looked around then leaned closer. “Would you be here on Saturday for dinner and to help with the boys if they drink too much?”
He raised a brow. “Drink too much? Do they get mean?”
“Nei. But they poke fun at their sister when they have too much drink, and I know Arvid will pull out the akevitt, a Norwegian liquor he has for special occasions.”
Hank didn’t like the idea of playing keeper to the Nielsen family, but if he could spare Kelda some torment from her brothers, he could hang around after dinner.
“I’ll be here.”
“Mange takk, thank you. I love my men, but there are times I would like to use my cast iron pan on their thick heads.” She pulled her gray head in and the conversation ended.
Hank smiled. He’d no doubt the woman, if angered enough, would smack her men around with a pan. She’d inflict little injury, but if her daughter, who wielded an axe like the beasts of the woods, decided to try out her mother’s punishment it could cause a great deal of discomfort to the one on the other end of the pan.
Chapter 5
Kelda woke Friday morning feeling like she’d yanked a dull saw through a tree all night. Wanting to be in the woods and instead bending over the large tub filled with the pans from the bread cooling on the table didn’t help her disgruntled mood.
The door banged open.
Kelda jerked and spun around.
Hank stood in the doorway, a bulging burlap sack slung over each shoulder. “Where does your mother want these bags of potatoes?”
Kelda hustled forward to take one.
“No.” He shook his head. “Just tell me where to put them.”
“The storeroom.” Kelda hurried between the table and the wall to the backroom where the supplies were kept. She pulled the blanket back and Hank hesitated.
“Just place them against the wall right here.” She glanced up and caught Hank scanning her cot, the two dresses hanging on pegs, and her brush on an upturned crate. Luckily, her unmentionables were tucked in the trunk at the end of her bed.
“You sleep in the storage room?” His tone verged on anger as he dropped the bags on the floor.
“Ever since I felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room as the boys.” She shrugged. It was the only life she knew, and it was a good life.
Hank shook his head. “Haven’t you ever wanted a room of your own with frilly curtains and a fancy bed?”
Did he think she was lacking in feminine interests? The thought horrified her. “It won’t happen as long as I’m working for my family and that’s what matters.”
He took a step toward her. His hand lifted then settled back at his side. “Family is good, but sometimes don’t you just want to do something for yourself?”
“There are days when I’d like to be anywhere but here, doing, whatever a woman does when they aren’t cooking or logging, but those are only wishes that won’t feed my family.” Her insides twisted. She’d never voiced her thoughts to anyone. Keeping them locked away made them easier to ignore. Now that she’d voiced them, she wondered if she’d ever do the things other women did. Dinner in a fancy restaurant, kiss a man, have a baby.
“The next time I go to Baker City you can come with me.” His dark eyes held something she’d never seen in a man’s eyes or anyone’s eyes. What could that deep smoldering mean?
“I can’t. I’m needed here.” She stepped back, and her knees buckled against the edge of her cot. Her body plopped down hard, causing the boards to crack and thud to the floor. Humiliation burned a scorching path up her neck, infusing her cheeks.
Hank bent to offer assistance as Mor scurried into the room.
“What is—” Mor grabbed the broom to the side of the door and whacked Hank across the back.
“Ow!” Hank spun from looming over Kelda and grasped the broom from Mor.
Kelda pushed out of the bed frame and grabbed Hank’s free hand to pull herself to her feet. He leaned down, giving her more leverage, and she popped up beside him, clutching his strong hand. Her mother’s stern glare at their twined hands sprang Kelda’s fingers open. She released Hank and peered at her mother.
“Mor what are you doing beating on Hank with a broom?”
Mor’s eyes narrowed and she glared at Hank. “What is he doing in your room? And you sprawled on the bed?”
“Mrs. Nielsen, it’s not what you’re thinking. I brought the potatoes you asked for.” He pointed the broom handle at the two sacks leaning against the wall. “It’s crowded in here. Kelda backed to move out of the way and ran into the bed, landing on it.”
Kelda’s face heated again. Not only did her large body ruin her bed but her mother had thought she and Hank… She’d had dreams of Hank kissing her ever since the night they sprawled in the snow. As much as she wanted to hate the man for not allowing her to work beside her brothers and father, she couldn’t wipe away the niggling idea a man, this man, could want her. That Mor believed Hank had those thoughts about her daughter delighted and frightened Kelda.
Mor’s knowing gaze took in the splintered bed frame sticking out from under the wool blankets. “I’ll get Paddy to fix the bed.” She pointed a thin finger at Hank’s chest. “Out of here. Next time you bring supplies, leave them inside the front door. If I catch you back here again, I will use the cast iron pan and not a broom.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hank nodded to Mor then faced Kelda. “Are you all right? That was a nasty fall—Ouch!”
Mor struck Hank’s shins with her pointy-toed women’s boots. “I said get out. You can talk with her in the eating area.”
Hank hobbled out of the supply room. Mor grabbed Kelda’s arm.
“He’s a good man, but do not let him lead you down the wrong path. You both are past the age of marrying.”
“Mor! I fell. That’s all.” Kelda couldn’t remember any other time in her life when her face had heated so many times in one day. Her chest ached with not an undesirable pain, but one that felt too large for her chest.
“Kelda?” Hank’s questioning voice riveted her gaze to the blanket separating the two rooms.
“Go. But do not lose your head.” Mor inclined her gray bun toward the doorway.
Kelda slipped out. Hank bent near the front door, rubbing a hand up and down his shin. He straightened when her boots clomped across the packed dirt floor.
&
nbsp; “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”
His concern added to the tightness in her chest. “Only my pride. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
A grin spread across his handsome features. “It was kind of comical. Not you falling, but the bed and then your mother flailing me with a broom.”
Kelda couldn’t hold in the fit of giggles. Hank’s deep laugh joined her and all felt right.
Mor stepped out of the room with an apron full of potatoes, and they both laughed harder.
“Go to work, Kelda has potatoes to peel,” Mor said, dumping the potatoes in the wash tub.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” Hank opened the door and disappeared.
Kelda stared at the door a moment before joining Mor and peeling the potatoes.
~*~
Hank didn’t know what came over him other than the fact every time he got close to Kelda his body overruled his good intentions. He stomped to the newly finished office and jerked open the door.
Tobias glanced up from stocking shelves behind a counter at the side of the room.
“Are those the items the loggers purchase?” Hank needed a distraction. After learning of Kelda’s living conditions and never having been treated like a woman, he’d offered to take her to Baker City. At the time he’d said it, he just wanted to show her how a woman should be treated; not like a man or like an employee. After the desire she’d flared in him and then the beating he’d received from her mother, he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. But after having made the offer, how the heck would he get out of taking her without looking ill-mannered?
“Ja. The beasts are charged a penny more than what you pay for the goods to offset the labor of selling the items.” Tobias peered into Hank’s eyes. “There have been some bosses who charge five cents over their cost to pad their wallets.”
“The penny is fine. Add it to your pay since you’ll be the one running the sales and making the payroll.” Hank walked past the younger man and into the small area that was to be his office. The room could easily fit a desk and a bed. He’d bought a desk in Baker City while purchasing potatoes and formally signing the contract with the Oregon Lumber Company. Until the railroad made it to McEwen to haul the lumber to Baker City and the mill, he’d have to pay the loggers and stockpile the logs. He’d talked it over with his brothers. It was risky to start logging now before the railroad was close, but if he waited, others would jump in and then they’d have to sell and transport the lumber even farther which would cut into the profit.
