“Your meadow?” He reached out a hand, desperate to touch her and make sure she was in one piece. After he accomplished that, he’d shake her silly for frightening him so. “Where have you been? Half the park is searching for you.”
She pointed toward the Inn, eyes wild. “Is that a steam shovel? Tell me that isn’t a steam shovel.”
“Margie,”—his hands shook as he grabbed her arm—“I’ll answer you in a moment. But first tell me you’re not hurt.”
Her attention shifted from the equipment. “I’m not hurt. Can’t you see that?”
“Where have you been?”
She glanced at her dusty boots. “There was this bear…and a lake where it shouldn’t be…then it got dark…” She closed her eyes and shook her head, hair flying in odd directions. “Does it really matter now? I made a mistake. Or a whole slew of them.”
Their moment alone was quickly evaporating as the rest of the hikers approached. He wrapped an arm around her back, crushing her to his chest. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
She laid her head against his shoulder, her breaths coming in short gasps as if the truth of her situation had just hit her. “I-I’m sorry. I feel so foolish. Really, I was just over that ridge. If I’d known I was so close…”
Ford rested his chin on top of her head for a brief moment. “We’ve all done foolish things. I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”
Margie buried her icy hands in the front of his jacket. “You’ve never done anything like this. You’re all man-o’-the-mountains.”
“Wish my dad could hear you say that.” The thought sent a jagged spear into his heart. His father would have adored her.
“Are you going to answer my question now?” She spoke the muffled words into his chest.
He hadn’t realized he was squeezing her so hard. Releasing his grip, he glanced down the hill. The group had stopped a considerate distance away and appeared to be waiting for instructions.
A billow of steam rose from the grumbling engine lurking in the meadow below.
Ford ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m afraid what you’re seeing is Philip Carmichael’s latest attempt to drive me to an early grave.”
Margie flew past the rescue party and on down the hill, her heart ramming against her ribs. If only she could have shut Philip down the first day he stepped foot on park grounds. How dare he come in here and start upending things even before she’d had time to formulate a plan to fight him. There should have been months of meetings and planning, not machinery arriving on their doorstep unannounced. It had been less than two months since the gala. She’d never dreamed he could move so fast.
Philip’s laugh carried across the meadow even before she could spot him in the throng. A gathering of men crowded around the steam engine, obscuring her view, but Philip must be standing center stage. His voice echoed over their heads. “I’m delighted to move ahead with this project. It will be a boon to our state; people will flock to see this new resort located here on our glorious mountain.”
Forcing a breath into her lungs, she elbowed her way to the front.
Philip rested one hand against a shovel as the men hung on his every word. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette onto the flowers below. “I know I can count on each of you to rally support from your local communities. Getting in on the ground level of this project will ensure your rights to future business in this park and others. You want us to serve your foodstuffs in our restaurants? Feature your products in our shops? Hire your favorite entertainers? Then make your support known now and ride the wave to a prosperous partnership that will benefit us all.”
Margie called to him. “Philip, I need to speak with you.”
Ford angled through the crowd, his height and uniform making him easily discernible from the businessmen.
Philip turned his focus to Margie, a purposeful silence stretching the moment. A curl of smoke escaped his lips before he reached a hand toward her. “Margaret, how good of you to join us.” He turned to his associates. “This is the young woman I spoke of earlier, though I hardly recognize her in this condition. What happened to you, love? I heard some terrible rumor about a fire.”
As dozens of eyes turned toward her, a prickle crawled across Margie’s skin. There was no way to know what Philip may have told them. “Please, Philip. A moment alone?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he addressed the audience. “You see?”
Several men chuckled, the sound lifting hairs on the back of Margie’s neck.
Philip extended his hand again. “Margaret, join me, and then I promise…we’ll sneak away for some privacy.”
Her stomach twisted. The man’s ability to manipulate a gathering with a few subtle gestures bordered on the fantastical. Had he exerted that same control on her at one time? If only she could tell that naive girl to wise up before she delivered everyone she loved into his grasp.
The group jostled her forward until she stood at Philip’s side, staring at a sea of eager faces all reflecting the sun’s glow—or Philip’s.
He took her hand and drew it possessively to his chest. “Miss Margaret Lane will work her magic on our Paradise resort, organizing events, bringing that Lane class and elegance to every function from the fine dining room all the way to the open-air amphitheater. I can’t wait for you to witness her skills in action.”
Margie tore her fingers from Philip’s grasp and stepped clear. “I will not. Your designs on this place are a travesty, and I’m not afraid to say so.”
The audible intakes of breath around her sent a tremor through Margie’s chest.
Ford halted a few steps away, his arms held stiff at his sides as if ready to leap into the fray at her behest.
She needed to make these people see reason. She looked around the group, studying their faces. “Gentlemen, I know you love this park or you wouldn’t be here. This can’t all be about dollars and cents. You must see what Philip Carmichael has planned will make a circus of this place. It will ruin everything that makes Mount Rainier unique—the tranquility, the wildness, the breathtaking beauty. Do you truly wish to see it replaced by modern hotel rooms and dance halls?”
One gray-haired man in a blue suit lifted his cleft chin. “You mean Mount Tacoma, Miss. And tranquility doesn’t pay the bills. We’re giving people what they want—better access to the mountain they usually only see from afar. If they’re willing to come all the way up here and plunk their money down for rooms and entertainment, I want a piece of that pie.”
A round-shouldered fellow with a straw boater elbowed him. “And your pies will go over well at that resort, won’t they, Monty?”
“Served alongside your bottled sodas? Sure will.”
A wave of exhaustion washed over Margie. She was swimming upstream with this lot. Philip had chosen his supporters well. These men all stood to earn significant profits if his vision was achieved. She glanced toward Ford, standing off to one side, and took strength from his presence. Unfortunately, this was a battle only she could win.
Philip clucked his tongue. “Margaret, we’re on the same side. When will you realize that? I’m the best thing to happen to this mountain in years, next to you, of course.” He turned to the eager men pressing around them. “Doesn’t her beauty rival that of Mount Tacoma, gentlemen—even covered in trail dirt? Now you see why I’m so determined to have her for my own.”
The men laughed, a smattering of applause carrying over the rumble of the steam engine.
“I’m not some possession to be garnered, Philip, and neither is this mountain. What can I do to make you stop this madness?”
He lifted one brow. “Haven’t I made myself clear on that point? Come work by my side and all of this could be yours.”
“I’d climb this mountain before I’d submit to you.”
His sharp, barking laugh echoed through the morning air. “I’d like to see that. You wouldn’t make it halfway.”
As the men joined in with Philip’s laughter,
a burning heat seared through Margie. “I certainly could—if I wanted to.”
“Never.” Philip blotted a silk handkerchief against his eyes. “You’ve lived in the lap of luxury your entire life. You’d get a few hundred feet, slip on the ice, and ask your daddy to come help you.” His gaze darkened as he focused on her. “How many times have you run to Daddy, Margaret? Did you even get this job without his help?”
Tension wrapped around her shoulders. “My father gave you your start.”
“Yes, he did. And now I’m repaying him. In kind.”
She grabbed his sleeve and towed him away from the crowd.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I believe the lady wants a word.”
Just out of earshot of the gathering, she turned and faced the infuriating man. “What does any of this have to do with my father?”
“Everything.” Philip’s face gained a quiet intensity, his eyes as cold as the glacier above them. “He had it all—money, prestige, and power. I was nothing more than a mutt you dragged home.” He turned away, as if gathering his senses. “Margaret, your kindness enraptured me. All I ever wanted was to be part of your family, in some small way. I’d have been happy mopping the floors in your mother’s kitchen.”
His admission opened a tiny crack in her defenses. She unclenched her hands. “Father paid for your education. He gave you a chance.”
“Oh, he paid all right. If that’s what he wants to believe happened with the money, who am I to argue with the man?”
Her heart jumped. “What do you mean?”
“Margaret, most men are blind fools.” He stroked fingers down his lapel. “You dress the part, wave a few well-placed dollars in their faces, they will believe whatever you tell them.” Philip tipped his head toward the gaggle of business owners. “Sheep, the lot of them. You give them hope of a windfall, and they’ll follow you anywhere. Even here. They drove several hours to watch me dig in the dirt.”
This conversation was going nowhere, as usual. “I won’t let you do this.”
“I gave you a choice.”
Her throat twisted until she could scarcely draw breath. Choice? There is no choice here. “If I agree to take the job, you’ll halt construction right now?”
“It’s not quite that simple.” He cupped a hand under her forearm and turned her to face the mountain. “You take the job, and you can have a say in what happens here. Let’s say, a thirty percent interest. I’ll take your suggestions under advisement.”
“That’s hardly reassuring.”
“Make it forty.” He tugged her a step closer until she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. “But if you agree to marry me, I won’t touch your precious mountain. Other projects are clamoring for my investment monies, and I’m sure to find something to satisfy this group of vultures.” Philip slid his hand around her waist and leaned close to her ear. “Mount Tacoma will be the dominion of Mrs. Philip Carmichael. You will rule it like a queen.” His warm breath ruffled her hair, sending a shiver down Margie’s neck. “Though you’ll have to stop kissing the ranger staff. That would be unseemly, don’t you think?”
She swallowed, forcing herself to remain still. “Why would you want to marry me knowing how I’d despise you?”
He spread his fingers across the small of her back. “It’s not about love, Margaret. It’s never been that. I want what’s owed me.”
She froze. “Owed you?”
“When Senator Lane invited me into his study that day, so many years ago, he promised me something.”
“What’s that?”
“That if I worked very hard, I’d earn my way in this world.” His chin jutted. “He said one day, I’d have everything my heart desired.”
“And that’s me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Margaret.” Philip chuckled. “I want everything Thomas Lane ever had. I’m just starting with you.”
Revulsion twisted in her gut. “You’re insane.”
“I’m determined.”
Ford closed in. “Margie, I’m going to telephone Harry. But I’m not leaving you alone with him. Come with me.”
She stepped out of Philip’s grasp. “Superintendent Brown won’t let this happen, will he?”
Ford’s expression darkened. “We have to find out what type of approval Carmichael’s obtained.”
A smile twisted Philip’s lips. “Your superintendent is eating out of my hand, thanks to a few well-placed calls. Apparently much of our nation’s capital is on my side.” He folded his arms and smirked. “I get things done. You know that.”
The conclave milled about. The man who’d answered Margie earlier cupped a hand to his mouth. “Come on, Carmichael, let’s get on with this.”
Philip smiled. “My public awaits. Since you’re not forthcoming with your decision, I suppose there’s no reason to delay.”
She grabbed his wrist as he stepped back. “No, wait. There must be something I can do. Something else.”
“Looks like the girl isn’t interested, Carmichael.” One of the other men piped up. “You heard her, she’d rather climb the mountain.”
The first man cackled. “I’d like to see that.”
Philip smirked. “So would I.”
Margie pulled her cardigan close. This was getting out of hand. “I’m stronger than you think.”
He rounded on her. “Prove it.”
“What do you mean?”
Ford growled under his breath, “Margie, don’t.”
She held up a hand to prevent Ford from coming closer. At this moment she couldn’t handle two men telling her what to do.
He stopped, deep lines scoring his forehead.
Philip strode toward the group. “What do you say, men? Shall we make a little wager?” He turned and focused on Margie, a grin spreading across his face. “Margaret Lane climbs to the top of Mount Tacoma, and I’ll put the construction project on hold.”
“Now wait a minute,” the soda pop dealer lifted his hand. “What if she makes it? We’re out a bundle.”
Philip strutted toward him, fingers hooked in the buttonholes of his vest. “Johnston, have you forgotten who I am? As the manager of the grandest hotel in Tacoma, I can provide you with an exclusive deal at all our events. Would you be out a bundle then?”
“No-no, sir!” Johnston’s eyes widened.
“This is between the lady and myself. None of you will lose a dime. That’s a promise.”
Margie stepped closer, her heart racing. “And if I make it to the top, you’ll shut down this project—right now?”
“I’ll stop work, immediately.” He laughed. “I tell you what. I’m so confident you won’t make it past the snow line, I’ll even pay for your guide.”
Margie curled her fingers. “I’ll make it. Or die trying.”
Ford loomed over her shoulder. “Margie, don’t do this. He’s gambling with your life here, and he’s holding all the cards.”
Philip chuckled. “I always have, Ranger, despite your little antics in Tacoma.”
Ford lifted his chin. “I care about Margie. If you did, you wouldn’t be daring her to do something that might kill her.”
“Did you hear that, Margie? Your ranger friend here thinks you won’t be able to do it.”
Margie stiffened. Ford hadn’t said that. Had he?
Philip continued. “Well, regardless, this little adventure will draw attention to my cause. Investors will flock to my side.” He spread his hands. “Unless of course…she makes it. But that’s not going to happen.”
The men hooted even as a grin spread across Philip’s face. This little escapade played right to his showman tendencies, but Margie no longer cared. Anything to stop that steam shovel from carving a path through her meadow.
“You provide a witness who will swear that you set foot on the summit, and I will postpone this building project until next spring. Without it, work will commence in one week.” He walked closer to Margie. “Or we could discuss other arrangements.”
“One week?” She glanced back at the steam shovel. Philip hadn’t said he’d quit the project altogether, but at least it might buy some time. “I’ll do it.”
Ford stood rooted to the ground; the idea of Margie risking her life to please Carmichael sent his gut spiraling down to his knees. He hadn’t even set foot on the mountain’s glaciers since his father’s accident. How could he let Margie make the ascent? He grasped Margie’s arm as she marched past him. “You’re not climbing the mountain.”
She rounded on him, her eyes flashing. “You’re the one person I thought might support me. But you don’t believe I can do it either, do you?”
Her anger shattered him. “You shouldn’t play Carmichael’s games.”
“I play to win, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary to save the park from his schemes.” She brushed a trembling hand over her forehead.
And who’s going to save you? “What makes you think he’d even honor the agreement?”
“There are at least fifty witnesses here. Philip is meticulous with appearance. He wouldn’t be gutsy enough to withdraw an offer made in front of so many people. I intend to make him eat those words.”
His throat went dry. “You just returned from a night lost in the backcountry. Most of your belongings burned in the fire. I had to talk you across the Kautz Creek bridge—all after a misstep nearly sent you down a cliff face on your first day. Now you want to climb the mountain itself? How do you expect to do that?”
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
“Blast it all, woman!” Ford pulled off his hat and smacked the hard brim against his leg. “I don’t doubt your fortitude or your strength. You’ve accomplished far more this summer than I dreamed you capable of. But you don’t just pack a bag and start climbing. You need equipment and training. Book learning won’t help you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you really think me so simple? I’ll hire a guide. The best guide money can buy.” She lowered her knapsack to the ground with a thump. “Unless you’d like the job.”
Guide Margie up the mountain? A cold sweat broke out across his skin. “You’re not going.”
The Road to Paradise Page 19
