White Water Passion

by Dawn Luedecke

  From the trail, they could still see the water. Garrett stared at a log as it dislodged and floated past. He turned back to her, and his steel gaze fixed on her. She wanted to reach out and trace the worry lines on his face. Ease them away and make everything right. But she couldn’t. He shifted on his feet. “Did you see what happened?”

  “Yes. It just snapped. There was a lot of tension on the front boom logs. They sort of bowed out.”

  Garrett’s forehead creased. “That means there was a lot of tension pushing from behind, but this is the end of an eddy. If tied right, the boom logs should have held the logs until we untied them.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “All we can do is watch and see what happens. Keep your ears open.”

  * * * *

  Beth walked to the front of the wannigan to where Aunt June struggled to ease the cook boat around a log. It had been a few days since the first incident, but a calm few days. Garrett had talked to Michael’s brother, but found nothing that would help them figure out why the boom snapped. Beth had settled into a routine, but now something wasn’t quite right. “What’s going on?”

  The river now overflowed on the sides and disappeared into the trees along the bank.

  “There’s a logjam ahead, a big one from the looks of it. We may as well pull onto shore and set up camp. A jam like this could take days to get loose. If they can’t get it out soon with the peaveys, they’ll blast it with dynamite.” Aunt June motioned for the girls to take up their positions. Beth pushed as hard as she could with her peavey to steer the wannigan to shore. It took a while to finagle the wagon through the flooded forest floor and find a high spot to tie the raft.

  By the time they’d tied up the wannigan, the men began to trickle in to camp. An odd excitement rippled through their ranks.

  Garrett approached the cook camp with a frown.

  “What’s going on?” Victoria asked.

  “We’re at the Crossroad Junction.”

  “The Thirsty Woodsman?” Aunt June clicked her tongue. “Can’t stop ’em from havin’ fun, but at least they could get us set up. Ain’t takin’ the supplies off in this mess. Not going to risk getting water in the flour and such.”

  “There’s a saloon nearby?” Michael loped up and stopped next to Garrett. “Can I go?”

  Victoria placed a gentle hand on the boy’s arm. “No dear, not for you. Saloons are places for reprobates and lowlifes. It’s where men go to meet the devil.”

  “Oh.” Michael’s face fell in disappointment. “What am I gonna do? My brother loves saloons.”

  “You can come and eat some of my cherry cobbler.” Aunt June winked at the boy.

  “Aunt June, I think supper should be earlier than usual tonight,” Garrett suggested. “The men are rearing to go.”

  “We’ll have it ready in an hour.” She clapped her hands and started to pick out pans and toss them onto the table balanced outside on the logs of the wannigan raft. “Get to it, girls, we have hungry men to feed.”

  Garrett gave a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get the peavey crews situated.”

  He left, and Beth and the other women busied themselves with the evening supper. Her thoughts on the man who’d stolen her heart. A man she couldn’t have. She needed to keep her mind off him. Save herself the heartache she’d surely have at the end of the drive. She concentrated on making a cook fire.

  Once the meal steamed over the cook fire, and the vision of Garrett’s loving gaze finally hid behind the sight of the steaming potatoes, she rang the bell. One by one, the women handed out plates full of food to the men. In no time at all, the loggers had devoured their meals and began to prepare to leave.

  The fading light of dusk settled over the land when the usual roar of the men in camp slowly dissipated to a small purr.

  Beth finished the last of the dishes in the wash bin, and set it at the table, glancing around in the dim light of the fire on the shore. She leapt from the wannigan and stumbled.

  “Don’t fall into the water,” Carrie warned and jumped down beside her. “Aunt June is looking for Michael. Have you seen him?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Aunt June said he went to use the bushes a while ago and hasn’t come back. After Simon’s attack, she’s worried about Michael scampering around after dark.”

  “Aunt June,” Beth called. The cook popped her head up from the other side of the campfire. “I’m going to find Garrett and see if he knows where Michael went to.”

  “Take Carrie with you, and don’t come back until you find the boy. My cobbler’s ready.”

  “Okay.” Beth waited for her friend to walk, and then headed toward the front of the logjam.

  By the time they reached the front of the jam, darkness had settled over the trees. A scuffle between two men sounded somewhere in the night and made Carrie grab onto Beth’s arm and hug close. “Sounds are frightening at night when you can’t see.”

  “It’s just a few loggers settling an argument is all.”

  Another campfire burned in the night, and they headed toward it. Through the dim golden firelight, she could just make out Garrett’s wide shoulders and commanding stance, standing next to a few other men. “There he is. Garrett,” she called when they drew near.

  He turned and hurried toward her.

  “Beth.” He said her name as if he would never have a chance to say it again, and made her heart flutter. He stepped even closer. “What are you doing out here? What’s wrong?”

  “Carrie’s here too. Michael has gone missing. We were sent to find him.”

  Garrett sighed and grabbed her free hand to loop it through his arm. His other hand rested on top of hers as he guided her down the river. Carrie clung to her other arm and followed with unsure steps.

  “Where did you last see the boy?” he asked.

  “Aunt June said he went to use the bushes,” Carrie answered. “That was about an hour ago.”

  “And you waited this long to go and find him?”

  “Aunt June got to making her cobbler and lost track of time,” Beth said.

  “I think I know where he is,” Garrett said. “Maybe you should stay here while I go fetch him.”

  “No. We’re going.” Beth took a larger step to punctuate her declaration.

  “Aunt June told us not to come back without him,” Carrie expounded.

  “You stay by me and don’t talk to any of the men.” Garrett paused. “Are you certain you want to go to the saloon? Your brother might knock me for a loop if he found out I took you.”

  “I’m in trousers and a plainsman hat. I’ve been to one before. Don’t you remember?”

  “Yeah, but I’m in a dress, and I haven’t been to a saloon,” Carrie reminded her.

  “Stay close and you’ll be fine.” Beth gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

  “Don’t talk to anyone in there. We go in, get Michael, and then leave,” Garrett said. He dropped Beth’s arm, but wrapped her hand in his. His rapid heartbeat pulsed against her palm. He still loved her. If stolen moments were all they were afforded, she’d take them without hesitation. With any luck, these small touches and secret looks would get her through the remainder of her lonely life. Without Garrett.

  Beth let Carrie go, and her friend grabbed on to the back of her shirt to follow.

  “Are you positive you want to come?” Beth whispered to Carrie. Her friend usually had to be yanked into adventure. Nighttime escapades were her least favorite.

  “No,” she hissed back. “But I don’t want to risk upsetting Aunt June.”

  Garrett squeezed Beth’s hand as they hiked.

  Beth climbed the steep incline to the doors as the drunken shouts of the men sounded through the night. Garrett stopped. “Don’t talk to anyone.”

  Beth nodded and followed as he opened the d
oor. Carrie stepped close to Beth, and the door shut behind them.

  Michael’s boyish laugh resonated over the shouts of the men and the clink of glass.

  “Michael,” Garrett said, and in two steps stood next to the boy’s barstool.

  “Oh hell!” he whined. The men gave a joyful yell in response.

  “Aunt June’s looking for you.” Garrett motioned toward the door.

  “Does she have cherry cobbler?” Michael jumped off the stool and stumbled, leaning heavily against Garrett. “I like sweets.”

  “So do I.” Garrett moved him toward the door as a few loggers shouted an objection.

  Dick walked up to the group when Garrett reached where Beth and Carrie stood. “I’d say I’d buy you a round, but it looks like you have your hands full.”

  “Buy you a round in town once this is over.” Garrett shook his head and gave his friend a look of disbelief at what Beth assumed was his luck.

  Dick laughed again and slapped Garrett on the back as Michael’s brother, Peter, stumbled up to the group and leaned on Dick’s shoulders. “Whew! Stay here and drink Mikey. Dick and I got a game of poker over there that’s as hot as a whore on nickel night.”

  Beth stilled at the sound of the man’s voice. Her heartbeat kicked up, and she moved close to Garrett and motioned for him to bend down. He brought his ear near her mouth.

  “That’s him. The man from the platform,” she whispered so only he could hear.

  Garrett jerked his head up in alarm and watched the retreating backs of Dick and Peter. “Are you positive?”

  “I’d bet my life on it. That’s him.”

  “Nah. Aunt June’s got cherry cobbler,” Michael called to his brother, and swatted at the air.

  “Your loss,” Peter tossed over his shoulder, and then turned toward the crowd of drunk loggers.

  Garrett paused and watched the table where the men had retreated, and leaned back down to Beth. “I’ll come back for Peter. He’s not going anywhere. He looks pissed off his rocker. We’ll deal with Michael first and get you women back to the wannigan.”

  Beth looped arms with Carrie and followed as Garrett directed a stumbling Michael out the door and into the night. The boy tripped.

  Beth looked forward to Garrett, who turned slightly and glanced back at her through the moonlight.

  “What should we do about the man from the platform?” Beth asked.

  “What m-man,” Michael stuttered, and then focused his attention to the faint light of a camp fire. He dropped back a few steps.

  Garrett ignored the boy’s question. “We will have to keep an eye on him and catch him in the act, otherwise it’s conjecture.”

  “You saw the man from the platform?” Carrie asked. “Where?”

  Beth lowered her voice, and took a quick glance to ensure Michael couldn’t hear. “At The Thirsty Woodsman as we were about to leave.”

  “Are you certain it was the right man?”

  Beth nodded even though she knew no one could see her. “I’d bet my life on it.”

  “Then we need to get him,” her friend said.

  “Go back and get him,” Michael agreed joyfully, once again drawing even with their group.

  “You need some rest, and some cobbler.” Garrett looked down at the boy when he passed the fire near the blockage.

  The men around the camp watched as Michael stumbled past.

  “Go to The Thirsty Woodsman,” Michael shouted. “It’s as hot as a whorehouse on nickel night.”

  “And Aunt June has cherry cobbler.” Garrett pushed the boy gently and urged him to walk faster.

  A few minutes later, they entered the cook camp, and Michael rushed to where Aunt June dished out a bowl of cobbler.

  “You girls have been gone quite a while. Where in the blazes did you find him?”

  Garrett gave a quick account of the scene, and then peered over his shoulder where Victoria was helping Michael stay upright on the log while he ate dessert.

  “Who did this to him?” Aunt June jumped to her feet. “I’ll kill any man who poured liquor down his throat.”

  “I’m certain he did it to himself.” Beth sat across the fire from Aunt June, but kept her eye on Garrett as he stood like a beacon of strength on the other side of the fire. One thing a woman could count on was a man who knew when to drink, and when to see to his affairs. Garrett’s sound mind and leadership, in addition to other amiable qualities, made him the perfect man. A man she was in love with.

  “Gracious me. What I put up with on this drive.” Aunt June turned to Garrett and wagged her finger. “There will be no more women or children coming into my camp next year.”

  “This will be my last season,” Garrett confessed. Beth had already heard the news, so it came as no surprise, but what would Aunt June think? She loved having her nephew in camp; it was apparent by the way she doted upon him whenever he was near.

  Silence filled the night, and he glanced around the gentle light of the campfire. Beth followed his perusal. A range of emotion showed on the faces of everyone else around the fire.

  Victoria walked into the firelight and smiled. “Excellent news, Garrett. Father will be thrilled to know you’ve chosen to take a more suitable position for a husband.”

  “Does Simon know?” Carrie’s face turned down in concern.

  “He does, but the Devil May Cares do not. I will tell them when the time is right.”

  Beth watched Aunt June sit silently. Her face showed no hint of her thoughts, which was unlike the goodhearted cook who wore her emotions for all to see.

  “I need to go and check on the logjam.” Garrett dipped his head in goodbye and disappeared into the night. Beth felt hollow as he disappeared, but she must not allow herself to wallow in self-pity. Else what would she do once the drive came to an end? Best get used to the loss of Garrett, and her heart.

  “Well now.” Aunt June rose to her feet. “We should be getting off to bed. No use stewing on bad news.”

  Aunt June urged Michael to stand, and guided him out of the firelight and toward the wannigan.

  “What exciting news,” Victoria gushed. “He will make the best boss at the mill.”

  Beth kept quiet. Victoria had planned Garrett’s life without consideration to what he wanted, and they weren’t even officially engaged yet. A hole opened up where her heart should be whenever she thought of Garrett’s life after the Devil May Cares.

  Chapter 22

  Garrett jerked awake to the sound of dynamite blasting through the camp. He sat up and looked around, but darkness still spread over the land. He estimated an hour had gone by since he’d given up the search for Peter, and collapsed in his bed. After dropping the women off at camp, he’d gone back to the bar to get the blowhard, but the traitor had already left. Garrett had searched all night, but without any luck.

  Another blast sounded farther down the river, and Garrett lurched out of his bedroll, yanked on his boots, tucked the laces into the tongue, and ran toward the sound. “Who the hell lit the dynamite before sunrise?”

  Men from both the Bonner and Missoula teams followed.

  Garrett could just make out the dark form of the logs in the water as they caught the current and flew down the river. Garrett cursed. They’d planned to blast the jam today, but not until they were situated and ready to resume the drive.

  In a few minutes, he and the rest of the men came upon the bend in the river where the blockage had happened, but the logs flowed freely.

  “Where was the other blast?” Wall stood with shirt un-tucked and boots hastily laced.

  “It sounded like it came from down the river,” a Bonner boy said from the dark crowd.

  “A couple of you boys come with me,” Garrett ordered. “Wall, get the drive ready to go. Don’t wait for us to get back, just follow the logs.”

  Wal
l nodded and turned to disappear into the crowd as Dick and the Bonner boy who spoke stepped forward.

  “Let’s go.”

  The sky dusted with a hazy pink as the sun began to peek over the mountain. Garrett and the men charged down the trail looking for anything that could indicate where the blast had been.

  The sun glistened everything to life when they came upon a section of the river where the water forked to the left into a smaller stream. Debris littered the riverbed and caused the water to back up and divert in the other direction.

  Garrett and the men rushed to the water’s edge and began clearing the dam. If the logs met with the obstacle, the drive would be stalled, and they would lose a great amount of trees down the river fork.

  Garrett waded into the water waist deep and pushed against the tip of a large pine tree. A branch caught his shirt and threatened to drag him to the bottom, but he fought free. He angled his shoulder over the trunk and pushed. The tree budged a fraction of an inch.

  Garrett jerked beneath the tree when the earth moved under his feet and water sucked downstream with the force of the explosion. A man cried out as Garrett struggled to keep his head above water.

  Using the protruding branches as leverage, he gained a foot at the bottom of the river and pulled to emerge from the surface.

  He searched his surroundings, only to find the debris had doubled.

  Another man screamed in pain, and Garrett turned toward the noise as a head bobbed from the water on the back side of a fallen tree.

  The force of the water pushed against his body as he tried to run toward the Bonner boy who went down. Before he could get there, Dick tripped his way across the torn bank and climbed over the tree trunk to lift the drowning man’s head out of the water.

  Garrett leapt over the tree. He had to get to the man before he drowned.

  “My legs are stuck,” the man shouted in pain while Dick held him up.

  Garrett took a deep breath and ducked under the water to see the man’s legs pinned beneath the trunk at the thigh. Dread filled his gut. The position didn’t look good.