Miner's Daughter

by Duncan, Alice

  It touched Tony when Tiny, hearing his name, tried to wag his tail. Damn, this was a fine dog. Spirited. Gallant. Exactly like his owner.

  She thought for a second and shook her head. “No. I think he weighs more than I do, though.” She managed a damp chuckle.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” He pondered the problem of getting Tiny into the backseat of his automobile. He’d left the door open, so all they had to do, really, was slide him in. Unfortunately, Tiny wasn’t like Tony’s mother’s pampered Pomeranian that weighed a couple of pounds. He was more likely to weigh in the neighborhood of a hundred and twenty or more.

  Still and all, he could have lifted him on his own if he hadn’t been worried about his wound. And Mari was strong. Wasn’t she? “Do you think you can lift one side of the blanket with him in the middle if I lift the other side? If we drop him, it won’t be good for him.”

  Although the lantern didn’t provide much light, it gave out enough for Tony to see Mari’s eyes widen with horror. “Drop him? I’d never drop him!”

  “I know you wouldn’t want to,” he said, nettled. “But are you strong enough to lift him up. He’s no lightweight, Mari.”

  “Oh, for the love of . . . Tony, I wield a pick and shovel six days a week, and I’m strong as an ox.”

  She didn’t look like one. Nevertheless, he grinned at her, admiring her spunk. “All right, then. I’ll take his front half, and you take his back half, and we’ll carry him to the machine. Let’s try not to jostle him.”

  “Of course.” Her voice was tight, and he sensed that she was steeling herself for another ordeal. So be it. He positioned himself at Tiny’s head. Looking down, he saw Tiny’s huge head bent upward, and he knew the dog’s eyes, trusting and in pain, were upon him. For the umpteenth time that day, his heart was wrenched. He whispered to the dog, “It’s all right, boy. We’ll fix you up.”

  “Oh, I hope so.” The words sounded as if they’d been choked out of Mari’s throat without her consent.

  “We’ll do our very best,” he promised them both. “All right now. Gently. Heave him up.”

  The maneuver went surprisingly smoothly. Mari proved herself to be as strong as an ox, in truth. She was a marvel. Tiny whimpered a little as they transported him the few feet to the motorcar’s back door. Tony cursed himself for not thinking to open both back doors. But he managed it well enough, crawling into the automobile butt first and twisting to get the opposite door open so that he could crawl out on that side.

  When they were through, he hurried to Mari’s side of the car. She stood there, looking at her dog, patently in distress, and crying. Until tonight, Tony hadn’t known there were so many tears in her. She was so damned strong for the most part, he hadn’t anticipated this emotionalism from her. He actually liked it. Made her more human or something.

  He put an arm around her shoulder and guided her to the passenger’s side of the automobile. “Here, Mari,” he said tenderly. “Climb in next to me, and we’ll get this big lug back to your house.” He thought of something. “Unless you think we ought to take him to town.”

  She shot him a surprised glance. “To town? Why to town?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. To see the doctor?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t have an animal doctor in Mojave Wells, and I don’t think Doc Crabtree would appreciate having Tiny in his surgery. Although I could pay him,” she added, as if suddenly struck by a happy thought.

  “Forget it,” Tony said, irked. He didn’t want Mari to pay for the doctoring of Tiny out of her own pocket. Hell, it wasn’t her fault a moving-picture company had invaded her life. “Let’s take him home.”

  She consented with a nod, and after retrieving the lantern, Tony drove them to the cabin. Since he knew now how to work this transportation business, he made sure the front door of the cabin was open, and a pad set out for Tiny before they carried him into the house. Then they had to get down to brass tacks.

  “I don’t know anything about doctoring pets, Mari,” he confessed, wishing he could play hero in this situation but fearing if he tried, he might damage Tiny.

  “I can do whatever can be done,” she said.

  Tony didn’t doubt her. He’d learned some time ago that Mari had served as her own doctor, nurse, and parent for most of her life. Because he wanted to be useful, he said, “I’ll boil some water and get a couple more lanterns lit. You’ll need lots of light.”

  “Right. There’s some laudanum and carbolic acid in the cupboard. Will you please bring them, too? And the witch hazel and rubbing alcohol and the tweezers in the box beside the sink.”

  “Right.”

  It didn’t take long before Mari was ready to begin. “You might have to hold his head, Tony. Be gentle, but he’s very strong, so you might have to use force.”

  “I can handle it,” Tony declared quietly, praying he wasn’t lying. She deserved all the help he could give her. And then some. Not only that, but it would be humiliating to allow Tiny to bite him.

  With assurance and agility, Mari doctored her dog, first cleaning the wound, then finding where the bullet had lodged and pulling it out with sterilized tweezers. Tony didn’t know how she could be so efficient under the circumstances. His own stomach heaved, he felt like cringing, and it was all he could do to keep from crying out several times when Tiny protested the pain of the operation.

  It was soon over, and at last Tony could help when Mari bandaged her dog. Fortunately, by that time, the dose of laudanum they’d dribbled down Tiny’s throat had taken effect, and the poor dog was too sleepy to protest. When Mari’d tied the last bandage and washed her hands, she sat back, staring at her pet.

  “There,” she said. “I guess what we have to do now is wait and see what happens.”

  Tony nodded. “You did a great job, Mari.” He was terribly impressed, actually

  “He lost a lot of blood,” she murmured.

  “He’ll be okay,” Tony told her with more assurance than he felt.

  She looked up from her dog to his face, and he saw how drawn and weary she was. “I hope so. I don’t know what I’ll do if Tiny doesn’t make it.”

  Then she sat back on her heels, bent her head, lifted her hands to her face, and started to sob as if her heart were breaking

  Tony couldn’t stand it. On his knees, he went to her, took her in his arms, and cradled her, rocking her and crooning to her as if she were something precious. Which she was.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mari knew Tony was holding her, and she appreciated it, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying. She was so tired and so worried about Tiny. The day had been horrible. She’d almost been killed, and now her dog was in peril.

  Burying her head against Tony’s hard shoulder, she sobbed until exhaustion robbed her even of tears. His hand, stroking her hair as if she were his pet, comforted her strangely. She couldn’t recollect anyone ever trying to soothe her this way. Is this what mothers were for? she wondered. Or fathers?

  Or lovers?

  In the faint hope that the last might succeed in this instance, she lifted her head and gazed at Tony’s face. It looked pale and drawn in the lantern light, as if he were bushed, too, and was only holding on to his strength because she needed him. She loved him very much and wondered if he’d like to know it, or if he’d be appalled. She didn’t want to risk whatever tenuous hold they had on a relationship by admitting the state of her heart. She did, however, feel compelled to thank him for helping her with Tiny. And for offering her a shoulder to cry on. Literally.

  “Thanks for all your help, Tony.”

  Slowly he opened his eyes and gazed down at her. “You don’t need to thank me, Mari.”

  “That’s very nice of you, but I’m grateful anyway.”

  “I’m always available for you, sweetheart. You ought to know that by now.”

  She blinked up at him, unsure what those very kind words meant exactly. They sounded rather like a lover’s, but Mari’d lived a hard li
fe and wasn’t accustomed to good things happening to her. Also, she’d hate like the devil to make a fool of herself.

  He had, however, called her sweetheart several times this evening. This was the first time Mari’s brain had been unoccupied enough to register the fact. Sweetheart was an endearment not often used on casual acquaintances. At least, it wasn’t in Mari’s circles. She wasn’t sure about the customs prevailing in Tony’s more lofty society.

  His grin came out of nowhere. “You’re staring at me. Do I have dirt on my nose or something?”

  Startled because she’d become lost in a fog, she grinned back. “No. I’m just . . . looking.”

  “Like what you see?”

  His soft voice caressed her senses as his hand had been caressing her hair. It was only then Mari realized he’d taken out the pins and begun running his fingers through her hair, as if he were combing it out.

  Afraid to speak for fear of sounding or looking like a lovesick idiot, Mari nodded. She sure did like what she saw. What’s more, she no longer thought of him as only a rich, handsome man. She’d come to know that, while he might be unfamiliar with the hard side of life, he wasn’t a snob. He was very nice, in fact. Kind. Magnanimous, even. And he wasn’t afraid of working hard. Or of blood. She shivered, and he hugged her more tightly.

  “Are you cold?” he asked solicitously.

  “No. I’m warm.”

  “Me, too.”

  She felt him kiss her hair where his hand had just stroked, and she sighed deeply, wishing they could stay wrapped up in each other forever. Because she wanted to, she tilted her head up and sought his lips.

  He took in a sharp breath when he realized what she wanted, but he obliged her, kissing her slowly, caressingly, lovingly. At least—Mari tried to be realistic about things—the kiss felt loving. Her half of it was; she wasn’t sure about his. She kissed him with all the love in her body, soul, and heart, bestowing them upon him freely.

  “Mari.”

  “Yes?”

  “I . . . I . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, God.”

  Evidently unable to think of anything to say that meant anything under these circumstances, Tony gave up and showed her what he meant. That’s the way Mari interpreted his actions. He kissed her passionately, using his lips and tongue in ways Mari hadn’t known were possible. She was an eager student and caught on immediately, kissing him back in kind.

  “Here,” he said after several delicious minutes. “We can’t stay here on the floor.”

  “No,” she agreed. “Let’s use the bed.”

  By the light of the lanterns, Mari saw that he was shocked at her suggestion. Naturally, she became defensive. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She hadn’t meant to sound quite as challenging as all that.

  He gazed at her soberly. “Yes, it’s what I want, Mari, but I won’t do anything to hurt you.” His voice was thick.

  She shook her head. “You won’t hurt me.” She wasn’t really all that sure of herself, but she did know she didn’t want Tony to quit now. Mari knew what went on between men and women. She’d honestly not thought about herself ever being with a man, but she knew that if ever she were to experience the physical side of love, she wanted it to be with Tony. If she lived and died alone after this, so be it. At least she’d have known the man she loved in the most intimate way possible.

  Still, he hesitated. Puzzled and a little hurt, Mari said, “What’s the matter, Tony? Don’t you want me?” That would be about the most humiliating circumstance she could conceive of, but she felt compelled to ask.

  “How can you ask me that?” He sounded cranky. “It must be obvious even to you that I want you. But-but, we’re not married.”

  Self-evident, Mari thought sourly. “Listen, Tony, if you’re going to talk this to death, then forget it.” If he went on in this vein, the moment would be spoiled and the opportunity lost. Once thought entered into a spontaneous activity, the activity lost all its fun.

  He gazed at her for approximately ten more seconds then gave up. Mari could detect the exact moment when his caution was subsumed by his desire, and she thanked her stars for small favors. She rose and took his hand and led him to her small bed shoved against a wall.

  The rag rug beside the bed was one Mari had made herself, during the cold winter of two years prior, when it had been too cold to work the mine and she’d had nothing else to do. She’d always been glad she’d done it, since the bare wooden floor could be perniciously cold of a winter’s morning. Now she was glad she’d done it because it made the room look less pitiful.

  During the day she covered her bed with a shabby but colorful spread and propped cushions on it so it could serve as a sofa when folks came to call. She shoved the cushions aside and sat, guiding Tony to do likewise. He did and took her in his arms.

  He didn’t kiss her again at once, but whispered tenderly, “Will this be your first time, Mari?”

  Shocked that he’d even ask her that, she jerked back and stared at him. “I beg your pardon? What kind of girl do you think I am, anyhow?”

  She was surprised when he threw his head back and started laughing. She didn’t know whether she should be offended or not, and was still contemplating whether to laugh with him or slap his mouth shut when he solved her problem by saying, “I think you’re the most wonderful kind of girl, Mari Pottersby. You’re a true original, a paragon of hardy womanhood, a glorious natural creature. You’re not only lovely to look at, but marvelous to know.”

  Oh. That kind of took the wind out of her sails, but she enjoyed hearing it. In fact, she felt herself flush and tucked her chin in, embarrassed. Tony tilted it up again. “I like it when you lift your chin, Mari. I can always tell when you’re going to light into me by that chin of yours.”

  “Really?” She’d had no idea.

  “Your chin is like Tiny’s tail. It’s a clue to your mood.”

  Because she didn’t want to make too much out of his words in case they were only flattery, she said jokingly, “Are you comparing me to a dog?”

  “I sure am. You’re as unusual and perfect as your unusual and perfect dog. I can’t think of another creature I’d rather be like than Tiny.”

  “I’m still not sure I find the comparison complimentary, Tony Ewing. Tiny’s big as a house, and. I’m not.”

  “No.” His voice went low and caressing again. “You’re definitely not. You’re slender and lithe and marvelous. I’ve been wanting to make love with you for the longest time, Mari.”

  “You have?” Good heavens.

  “I have.” He held her by her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. “But I won’t do it unless you want me to.”

  She swallowed. Blast. She was always having to make difficult decisions. Didn’t anything in life ever just happen naturally? As ever, Mari took the bull by the horns and dealt with it. “I want you to.”

  Tony’s fervent “Thank God” sounded genuine to Mari. She guessed he really did want her.

  Then he kissed her, and her question about things happening naturally was in a way being answered. His passion was so hot, it seemed to melt her very bones and she sank against him, willing him to do whatever he wanted with her. He made her body sing. She hadn’t realized how delightful a man’s hands could feel against her skin. Which made sense. How should she?

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered at one point as he was unbuttoning her shirtwaist.

  Mari almost believed him because he sounded so sincere. She wondered if he found her tanned skin off-putting, since refined ladies were always depicted with skin as white as snow. But she decided to give herself break. If the man said she was beautiful, she’d believe him. At least for tonight. She’d deal with tomorrow when it came.

  When he’d undone the last button, he slid his hands inside her shirtwaist and slipped it aside, gazing at her modestly covered torso, his eyes hot with desire. Mari figured she ought to be shy, but she wasn’t. She loved the way he looked at her; she’d nev
er even imagined she could stir Tony Ewing to lust. It seemed so incongruous.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Mari.”

  There he went again, calling her beautiful. She liked it. A lot. She didn’t respond in words because she didn’t know which ones to use. Instead, she closed her eyes and let her body take over and do what it wanted to do. She was tired of thinking all the time.

  He leaned toward her and pressed his lips to her naked flesh, on that little dip between her neck and her shoulder, and she darned near fainted. When he feathered warm kisses across her shoulder and down to her chest, she uttered a low moan that meant nothing but pleasure.

  “Don’t be afraid, Mari,” Tony whispered raggedly. And he slipped her shirtwaist from her shoulders until it puddled around her hips.

  “I’m not afraid.” And she wasn’t. How strange.

  “I’m going to take your shoes off.”

  “All right.”

  In a trice, he was on his knees in front of her, and Mari’s heart lurched. This pose was the same one he’d adopted earlier in the day, and it still reminded her of illustrations she’d seen of gentlemen proposing to ladies. Only Tony’s proposal wasn’t the same as the ones proffered by those fictional gentlemen. Her insides somersaulted once in a sickening fashion before she squelched these most recent thoughts as unproductive. She reminded herself that this might well be the only chance in however long her life lasted to experience the act of love with Tony Ewing. She wasn’t about to allow scruples to spoil the experience.

  Her footwear might have embarrassed her, had she still been worried about the discrepancies in their relative social situations. This evening, what society thought didn’t matter. Mari decreed it so. Nothing would ruin her first—perhaps her only—adventure with love.

  “We have to get you some new shoes, Mari,” Tony murmured as he pulled her right shoe off.

  We do, do we? Mari watched Tony without speaking, even though she knew good and well her footwear was her concern, not his. She was fully willing to make love to Tony Ewing tonight, but she wouldn’t be a kept woman. Ever. She had a mine to run.