The light of the fire illuminated the base of the tall pine trees and Garrett stopped short. “This is where I leave you. I need to go check things over down by the water. I’ll see you at breakfast. And Elizabeth…”
Her heart started to beat at the way her name rolled off his tongue.
“Take care. If anything were to happen to you, Simon and I would be hung out to dry.”
She nodded and turned toward the fire. In the crisp mountain morning, her breath puffed out before her face as she entered the camp. The fire threw light over the small cooking area in the dark morning hours. Drenched in a golden sheen, Aunt June bent over the flames, tossed a log into the fire, and then moved over the cast-iron pan. Her elbows popped out of the dark silhouette, and her shoulders dipped as she worked.
Beth leapt over the shadowy form of the protruding tree root she’d seen yesterday and sprinted into the firelight, the thought of Garrett awake and yards from where she stood fresh on her mind. You’re not here for romance, Elizabeth, she scolded. Get your head straight.
“You’re late.” The cook handed her a wooden spoon and motioned toward the sizzling pile of eggs. “You can’t be late for things if you wanna be a logger.”
“I know. Sorry.” Beth stirred the eggs. A pop from a second pan cooking over the fire sounded, and Beth peeked into the bacon-filled cast-iron pot.
“Don’t say sorry to me, boy. You’ll be answering to the dozen hungry men wonderin’ where their breakfast is before long. Once you’re done there, you can start the gravy. I need to check on the biscuits. They need to be the right shade of brown for your, er, cousin.”
“Did he put you up to this breakfast?” Knowing Simon, he used his dimpled smile to convince the plump cook to make his favorite meal. “You don’t have to bother yourself for him, you know. He’s already got enough women in town wrapped around his finger and eager to satisfy his ego, he doesn’t need one at camp too.”
Aunt June giggled. “That boy can charm the trinkets off a gypsy.” She disappeared into her cabin as Beth took the bacon out of the pan and tossed in a handful of flour to start the rue. Aunt June returned with the biscuits by the time she’d added the remaining ingredients and was stirring the gravy.
The cook peeked over her shoulder. “Excellent job. Most men don’t know how to fry an egg on a cook stove, let alone add the proper ingredients to make gravy.”
“My…my mother taught me,” she said in quick defense. Hoping her knowledge of food didn’t give away her disguise.
The older woman eyed Beth for a moment before giving a sly smile. “Sun’s startin’ to show its face. Only a few more minutes before the men start tricklin’ in. Best get the tins set. I’ll take over the stirrin’.”
By the time Beth placed the dishes and utensils on the table, the first logger lumbered into the area and plopped down on the bench. She glanced over and recognized Wall.
“You always outdo yourself on the first day of camp, Aunt June. I know the Devil May Cares will be here shortly. They wanted to be the first in line.”
“Where’s Simon?” Aunt June asked, dishing a plate full of eggs, bacon, and biscuits slathered in gravy, and placing it before the logger. “He’s usually the first to the table in the mornin’. I don’t want him to miss out on my special breakfast. I made it for him.”
“Don’t know. Luther took my spot in the Devil May Care cabin. I had to bunk with them damn beasts. Smelly bunch. I don’t think a one of them has discovered the use of properly laundered socks.”
“The rivermen are supposed to have their own bunkhouse, separate from the timber beasts?” Beth asked, as another logger lumbered up to the serving table. Beth dished him a plate while Aunt June set down fresh milk.
“No,” Wall said. “We just sorta follow an unspoken rule. The bunkhouse by the creek is for the Devil May Cares, and the others are for the timber beasts.”
“Simon’s not a riverman,” she supplied, and then snapped her mouth shut. God. Why did she keep talking? Someone was bound to see right through her if she kept up the girlish behavior. She needed to stay invisible. Blend in. Fat chance of that happening. Maybe they’d ignore the prudish talk and pass it off as social awkwardness.
“There’s some men who are part of our crew without being a riverman. Simon’s one of them.”
“I’m the only one.” Simon and the rest of the Devil May Cares rumbled into the cook camp with a crew of timber beasts hot on their heels. “Pissed about losing your spot, Wall?” Simon teased. “Shoulda set up your bunk earlier.”
“A deadbeat river rat from the Bonner crew needed a lesson. I had to clean his plow.”
“D’ja beat him good?” her brother asked.
“My left hook did. His eye swolled up like a whore on payday.”
It took all of Beth’s will not to react as a lady would at such language. She’d never in her life heard a man talk so in her presence. Her face heated.
She locked eyes with her brother who must have realized her discomfort and looked fit to explode in a bout of laughter. I swear. The man is bound to see me fail. She glared. At the least he took great joy in her discomfort.
“Watch your language in front of the lady.” Garrett’s voice boomed from the other side of the fire. The men all turned to watch him walk into camp—thank God—if they hadn’t looked the other way, someone would have noticed her wide-eyed stare of fear. “I’ll beat any man who can’t hold their tongue in front of Aunt June.”
Beth stared at the tin in her hands and waited for her face to cool, grateful for the gentle mountain breeze.
Garrett adjusted the sheath to his large deer-antler knife, sliding it along his belt to settle at his back so he could sit. Simon, the only man who hadn’t turned toward Garrett, quivered with a silent chuckle and dipped his fork into his eggs, shaking his head. She’d honestly thought Garrett was talking about her when he entered, and she was secretly thrilled.
“How long ’til the train comes back?” Aunt June dished Garrett’s plate and set it before him while he took a seat at the end of the table.
“It should be back Friday or Saturday. They’re picking up a shipment of tools.” Garrett dug into his meal as Beth sat across from him and began to eat.
“I need another bunk and a mattress in my house for my goddaughter. She’ll be coming on the train and taking over the duties of mess cookin’. That way you boys can concentrate on your work and we women can make you those hearty meals you’re fond of.”
“I’ll send out for the mattress on the next train.” Garrett gave a quick glance in Beth’s direction, and she blushed.
“I’ll build the frame for you this afternoon, Aunt June,” Wall offered as he ate.
“Thank you, Wall.” She turned to Simon. “What about you?”
Beth chuckled as her brother swallowed hard and stared, the whites of his eyes bulging. “I would, Aunt June, but I got all these responsibilities now. I don’t know if I have the time.”
“We’ll all help you out so’s you don’t have to worry about that,” one of the timber beasts called, followed by cheers of agreement and a few snickers. “Go ahead, Aunt June, he’s all yours.”
The cook raised one eyebrow, and her eyes twinkled. “I’ll wait for you at my cabin after I’m done here.”
Garrett finished his meal and stood, catching Beth’s eye. “When you’re done, meet us at Seeley Lake. You’ll start your training by splitting logs. I’ll show you how when you get done here.” He motioned to his men, who crammed what remained of their food into their mouths, and stood.
“What are you looking at?” she asked her brother as he sat staring at her. “You get to make furniture today. At least I get to be a logger.”
“Not until the dishes are done. Best get on them.” He gave a triumphant smile, and whistled as he stood and walked away, following Wall and Aunt June.
S
plitting logs wasn’t ideal, but it was a start. At least she’d be able to watch the men while they worked. What did they do when they weren’t making a drive down the river, anyway?
Chapter 6
Garrett tried not to stare as Beth leapt over a tree root and continued to skip toward him and the rest of the crew. Wisps of her jet-black hair had escaped from its confines under her wide-brimmed hat while the jacket he’d given her hung almost to her knees, giving her a look that made his heart drop to his stomach. She was irritatingly naïve, but with a determination that made one believe she could achieve anything she wished. But why the lumber camp? Why now?
“Ah, good, you’re here,” he said as she neared the group. “This is Michael. He’ll show you how to cut firewood while the rest of us go check on the raft.”
“The raft?” she asked.
Garrett pointed to a sectioned-off area in the lake filled with logs waiting to be taken downstream to the mill. “The wannigan is the floating cabin over there. That’s the cook boat, not the raft. When the logs that float down the river are tied together, we call that the raft. Once the timber beasts fall the trees, they take them down skid row, and then slide them down the chute. Then they are placed on the rollway to wait. When we’re ready for a drive we release the logs into this section of Seeley Lake and bind boom logs to one another to keep the rest of the logs together. It makes it easier to get past the lake. Once we reach the river, we release the logs so the river can take them to the mill near Bonner. This load is almost ready for the go-ahead from Teddy, and then we’ll take it down. Your job will be to assist me in the bateau until you’re ready to handle it on your own.” He pointed to a boat sitting a few yards from the bank.
“When will I train for that?”
“Soon.” He wished never. It had taken weeks to forget her face the first time he’d met her on the train platform in Missoula, and each time they’d returned from a season after that, he’d distanced himself before being forced to engage her charming wit. Now, whenever she turned her dimpled smile to him, his chest tightened, and it took all of his strength just to breathe normally. She disturbed his destined path, and he couldn’t have the distraction, or her.
Garrett turned to watch as the rest of his crew meandered down the bank, leaving him behind. Michael moved to get another ax from the other side of the small woodpile. “When you finish here, come over to the raft.”
Beth eyed him. “You’re talking differently.”
“What do you mean?” But he knew exactly what she meant. Beth made him nervous, and yesterday when he realized it was she on that railcar and cleared his initial shock, he reacted like years of boarding school and London parties had taught him. With a reserved aloofness designed to allow him to face the challenge with a calm head and effective tongue.
“Not stuffy and refined.”
“I’m focused.”
She gave a slow nod as if she didn’t quite believe his response. Thankfully, the Miller boy chose that moment to return and hand her an ax. She reached for it. The weight of the tool jerked her shoulder down until the head plopped on the ground. Garrett reached out to grab the ax before it injured her, but snapped his hand back, and flexed his palm at the desire to touch her. To help her. He needed to treat her like he would one of his men. Oh God, the men. How would they react if they knew her true identity?
She turned a nervous glance toward him.
He nodded in encouragement, but he really wanted to take the burden from her hands and into his own. “You’ll do fine.”
“I’m not frightened.” Her voice quivered with forced confidence.
“Excellent. We’ll be right over there.” He pointed to where the men gathered in front of the raft.
After she gave him a nervous smile, he took leave. His tense muscles eased the moment he walked away from Elizabeth. All he wanted to do was feel her. Caress her hand to see how soft her skin was. He couldn’t, especially since Michael had watched them with a curious stare. This guise couldn’t last. Not with the tug of longing he felt whenever Beth was near.
The boisterous noise from his crew grew in intensity as he neared. They were excited over the start of the season. So was he. The tumble of a half-hearted fight between two of his men rippled through his core. This was what he’d looked forward to when he started the season. Camaraderie and easy banter, not traitors and women disguised as loggers. At least he could enjoy this moment. This one last start of the season challenge between his men.
“Who wants to go first?” Garrett asked and leapt on the top of a floating log to balance with expert ease.
“Dick and I need a go. I got a beef to settle with him from last year.” Wall followed Garrett’s lead and appeared to walk on water as he jumped from log to log, stopping at a large trunk near one of the boom logs.
Dick gave a lopsided grin and followed Wall onto the raft. “You lost fair and square. I can’t help that I have a surer foot, or a better right hook.”
“You chiseled your way through,” Wall claimed, taking a wide stance to rock the log and causing Dick to wobble.
“Give in, Wall.” Dick readied for the log roll by adjusting his stance and holding out his hands. “I got the bulge over you. I man the bateau. I don’t have land legs like you bank walkers.”
“I barely walk the bank. I ride the logs, not some flat-bottomed boat.” Wall shook one of Dick’s outstretched hands. “Let’s go, then.”
Wall set the log in motion, and Dick began to run in place as the men on the bank cheered. Garrett couldn’t help but laugh as Dick gained control of the log and Wall wobbled. There was no better morale booster than the start of the season challenge.
“How fun! Do you do this every year?” Beth’s words were almost drowned out by the cheers as Dick stumbled, but quickly regained his footing. Garrett snapped his gaze to the troublesome woman now standing beside him.
“Why aren’t you chopping wood?” He shifted to stand next to her, shut her off from the rest of the men.
“The boy had to leave. He said he’d come get me when he needs me again. I guess he didn’t trust me alone.”
Garrett stretched his neck muscles. He didn’t trust her alone in the woods either. The woman would be the death of him. “What about cook duty?”
“I’m done with that for now too. I’m all yours until someone else comes to get me.”
A battle between sending her packing and allowing her to stay raged in his head. At least they weren’t doing anything dangerous. No harm would come of her watching. “It’s a friendly competition. Each year the men compete for their place among the crew. First a log roll, and then a cockfight. The winner gets the distinction of taking the position as foreman of the Devil May Cares. I have never lost.”
“Never?”
He shook his head. Many a man had tried, but his stature gave him a leg up from the rest of the men. This year was different. What a moment for the woman of his dreams to break into his life—just in time to see him get beaten down. He had to lose so the winner could take over as leader of the Devil May Cares. “Not so far. We’ll see what the day brings.”
“May I have a go?”
“No.” There was no way she could stay on for even a second.
“Can I at least walk on the logs?”
“Not yet. I’ll take you out on the boat after supper tonight.” The boat was about the only thing she could handle. At least then she’d keep quiet about helping, and he’d get to ask her about the moon-shaped scar on her arm. The one he focused on whenever he forced his gaze away from her eyes.
She nodded and adjusted her demure stance, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the men. Garrett turned as well, and forced back the smile threatening to stretch across his face. This felt good, her next to him, comfortable in the wilds of the forest. With her spunky bravery, she was the sort of woman who could make a man happy. Content. Sha
re the love of the mountains with him. Be near him without the need for meaningless prattle.
Wall took the lead once more and within seconds knocked Dick into the water. Cheers rose from the men on the bank, and Beth jumped up and down with excitement. It took everything he possessed not to smile in response to her enthusiasm.
His pulse raced when she drew closer to him as she moved around in the buzz of merriment. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be with her every moment of the day. He gave a sly glance at her face, and his spirits dropped. He must keep her at arm’s length, and not only for appearances around camp. It wouldn’t be fair to toy with her emotions when he was destined for another. Elizabeth was nothing but a dream.
* * * *
Beth sat on a nearby log to enjoy the competition, as each riverman took their turn challenging the next until all that remained were Wall and Garrett. On occasion, she’d remember the manly pose she was supposed to sport, and would adjust her position. She hoped it worked. The last thing she wanted was someone finding her out.
Garrett motioned with his head for her to follow, and then wandered into the forest with Wall, leaving Beth to walk with the rest of the crew. “What now?”
“Now’s the best part. They fight.” Dick took the lead as he dried off with his shirt and shrugged into his heavy coat.
“Wall is a pugilist,” Clint boasted. “Never had a chance at Garrett, though. This’ll be one hell of a cockfight.”
Beth took care to remember not to chew on her lip like she was apt to do when nervous, instead she copied Blue’s stance as he shouted words of encouragement to the fighters. Two men brushed past her when she slowed. She should take the opportunity to scope out the men, see if she could identify the traitor among them.
“Don’t worry, shave tail,” Clint teased. “You’ll get a chance next year, once you bulk up a little. Can’t have you gettin’ knocked out before you even spin a log. Unless of course, you want to? We can have a row after Garrett and Wall if you’d like.”
White Water Passion Page 7
