“No. I’ll come with. I don’t want to wait.”
Victoria pinched her lips tight to stop her chin from quivering before all to see as she took the steps to the courthouse, and followed Paul to the back alley and the awaiting buggy. She mounted, not waiting for him to help her up. “Let’s get Wall’s part, and get home. I want to focus on getting up the mountain as soon as I can.”
Especially if this was going to be the last few times she saw her beloved operation. She prayed her wire would reach her father, and that he’d return with all haste. Even before she’d gone to the trial, she’d known he needed to be home, and told him as such. If only he’d read the note, and return, then all would be well. He would fix everything. If not, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
On the other hand, had her father known Luther was his wife’s bastard child when he’d hired him on to work with the timber beasts years before? He must have. Right? And why hadn’t her mother fought to keep her son? Those were all questions for another time. For when her father, and more importantly, mother, returned.
She just prayed they made it back to Missoula in time.
Chapter 8
Off in the distance, three loud train blasts sounded through the trees, but Wall didn’t pay much mind. Not with the headache forming behind his skull at the thought that he’d not yet figured out how to get the machine working for Victoria without the part. He balanced on one leg and stretched to reach the gear deep in the belly of the loader when the sounds of feet crunching the dried-up grass in the Railroad Grove reached his ears. He stood, and ducked his head out of the machine as the cook’s boy from the Bonner camp trotted up to him. “She’s here.”
“Who?”
“The boss lady. She came up on a train. They parked way down the tracks behind the timber car. They’re walking up the rest of the way.”
“Who’s they? Who’s she with?”
“Dunno. Some old guys with stuffy chests, but they got two engines on either side of the train. Weirdest train I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks.” Wall frowned, and turned his attention to the path leading down the hill, beside the tracks. If Victoria had come alone he’d have only given half a thought as to why, but why bring others up the mountain?
After the assessor’s death, she certainly wouldn’t wish to have dandies traipsing about the Groves.
He started down the tracks and had reached the edge of the meadow when Victoria’s prim form—regal in a flowing skirt that must have been tedious to carry through all this vegetation—led three men up the thin trail next to the tracks.
He waited until they neared, and then tipped his hat. “Miz Victoria.”
“Oh, Wall.” She said his name in a breathless plea. At least that’s what he heard in the word. “These gentlemen are representing the judge who oversaw our little family dispute. They are here to place a value on Great Mountain. Would you be so kind as to help me show them the camp?”
“Of course.” He motioned for her to proceed him up the trail.
To others, her voice would have sounded straightforward. Perhaps even sincere, but to Wall she sounded desperate. She’d needed him in town. If for nothing else than support. And he’d failed her by doing what an Adair does best. Work.
Except she needed him up here too, and on the river. Being Victoria’s champion was a taxing business. But the rewards are well worth the effort. He slid his gaze over her backside as she stepped past him and led the way toward Aunt June’s camp, and the way her hips felt in his hands dominated his thoughts. She was a woman well worth the struggle. Worth fighting with, and for.
They entered into camp, startling a frazzled Carrie who’d taken over cook duty since Aunt June left with the rivermen.
“Working alone?” Victoria said to Carrie. “If I remember correctly, even Aunt June has an assistant cook.”
“Beth helps,” Carrie answered.
“Hhmm,” Victoria responded.
Wall knew the tense way Victoria carried her shoulders and squinted at Carrie as she worked. He’d seen it on more than one occasion since the dinner party. She needed to talk with her. About what, he hadn’t a clue, but at least he could afford her a bit of privacy.
“Hhmm,” Victoria muttered again, and Wall turned to the men, drawing them a few steps away with his movements.
“We’ve yet to be introduced. I’m Wall Adair.” He extended his hand to the men.
“Churchill.”
“Peters.”
“Smith.”
Each man introduced themselves as they shook his hand.
“I trust your train ride up here was pleasant enough.”
“Beautiful scenery,” Churchill spoke up. “The lakes up this way are breathtaking.”
“Ah, yes. You’ve yet to see Seeley Lake, though. It’s not as grand as the Flathead, but the Salish and Kootenai got claims over that one.”
“How’s the fishing in Seeley?” Churchill, whom Wall was beginning to think had been designated to speak for the group, asked. And funny enough, Wall hadn’t pegged the stuffy man for a fisherman. Never could tell in Montana, though.
“Good, if you know the right spots. Our river operation starts on the banks of the lake so we get a good peek at what’s in the lake.”
“Ah, good, good. Have you seen anything odd this year up here? Like how the fish look?”
“To be honest, I haven’t paid much mind to the catch this year. Far as I know there mainly bull trout.”
“No, no.” Churchill looped his thumbs through his pants. “A group of us have introduced a new species into the Madison River. There’s brown trout now. Can’t wait to see if they’ve made it to the lakes. It’s going to change everything in the waters.”
“Have you? Is it a group of you or government operation?”
“Sort of a collaboration of both, I guess you could say.” Churchill took a few steps toward the direction of the lake. “I’m curious about the river logging. Specifically, how it’s had an effect on the fish. I read that piece in the Missoulian a while back about a group called The Devil May Care boys. Been quite curious to see what sort of man takes on a job like that. I love all things to do with the water around here.”
Wall chuckled. “I read the article. They called us ‘touched in the head’, I think. And in my experience, the rivers are as ripe with tails as any year before.”
“You’re a Devil May Care?” Peters asked in awe, finally breaking his silence.
“I’m their leader. Although this year I had to send them down the river without me so I could fix the loader.” Which, come to think of it, didn’t make him much of a leader now, did it? What sort of captain stayed on shore and sent his ship out with the first mate?
Not much of a captain. He was turning out to be less of a leader than Garrett. Of that, he had no doubt. “So you boys are from the city?”
“I’m from the city,” Churchill said, and nodded sideways toward the other two men. “These two are from Helena.”
“Ah” was the only response Wall could give and not let his hand be known. He knew what that meant. They were here under order of Nichols’ office, and not the judge. Two separate matters entirely. At least they should be separate.
A movement near where the women sat at the cook table caught his attention as Victoria beckoned him over. Should he tell her? She more than likely already knew.
In a few strides, he stood before her. “Could you distract them for a moment? I feel I’m going to be a few more minutes.”
“I’ll take them to see the chute.” Wall wanted to reach out and caress the lines from between her brows, but held back. “Is everything okay?”
She sighed. “Yes. When we were at the mayor’s dinner, her mother asked me to fire her after this summer. It seems she is needed at home, but her mother fears she intends to hide away up here and become and old
maid like Aunt June.”
“And you’re siding with her mother?”
Victoria shrugged. “She’s right. I can’t in good conscience keep her employed knowing I aided in destroying a woman’s future.”
“Don’t you think that’s her choice to make?”
“She can choose, just not at Great Mountain.”
“I suppose you have a tough choice to make, and it is your decision.” Although it isn’t the one Wall would have made, in truth it wasn’t his to make. For now, at least, Victoria was owner of the lumber mill.
With a curt nod, Wall turned to the men and motioned toward the lake. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me, the river operation is this way.”
“Ah, splendid,” Churchill said like a boy who was about to get a peek at a new foal.
“Victoria mentioned you were here to price out the operation. Did you get a chance to talk to Nichols’s people? From what I hear they sent a man out earlier this year.”
“Can’t talk business with you, but I wouldn’t mind talking trout.”
“Ah.” Wall raised his head in understanding. The men weren’t going to give so much as a hint as to what their intentions were up there. For all Wall knew, the judge was working with Nichols. He wouldn’t put it past the man to have given into the strong thumb of the state official. After all, his father already had.
Wall emerged next to Seeley Lake and waved toward the open water. “We usually have our bateaus and wannigan here, but they’ve all been taken downriver. Over there is the chute, and below that is where we house the raft. Which is also downriver.”
“How many logs do you take down in a raft?” One of the, until now, silent men asked.
“As many as a thousand. As few as a hundred. Depending on the haul the winter crew got to the water’s edge, and spring runoff. This year was smaller than normal, what with the railroad logging and dry winter.”
Wall let the men go as they broke off, meandering around the bank, checking things out. He stood watching them survey the surrounding land, chute, and—in Churchill’s case—lake, until Victoria’s dainty footsteps sounded behind him.
He turned as she approached.
“I’m going to lose it all.” She stared at the lake.
“The trial didn’t go well I take it?”
“Not as well as I would have liked. They want father here. Gave me a month to get him back. Problem is, he hasn’t been heard from since he first got to Seattle. It’s like he disappeared.”
“Let’s hope not if they need him to make a decision.” Wall faced her, turning his back on the wandering men. “What about Luther?”
Her dainty eyelashes fluttered to her cheeks, but when she glanced back up the bottom of her eyelids held tears on the verge of escape. “He’s my brother. My mother’s child apparently.”
Wall frowned. “So what happened in the past to make your parents give up their only son?”
“My mother’s son. Not my fathers. I never knew it before because I’ve never met Sanchez, the man with the cane, who everyone talked about last year, but he and Luther bear a striking resemblance. There’s no doubt to me that they are father and son.”
“And they believe they deserve half of the company?”
She waved her hand before her face. “There was something about bill of sales, birth certificates. It was all fast and confusing. I need to get back to running the mill already. To get these men down the mountain and my father home. I just want to feel peace again like I did when I first took over the mill.”
“We could steal away to Mother Goose’s Cottage? Everyone finds peace up there. You could think. I’ll even leave you be once we get there. Promise.” He held up his hands in surrender, but dipped his head close to hers. “Although, I wouldn’t fight you if you were to order me to unlace your corset again.”
“What makes you think I’m wearing one?”
At her words, and the image it invoked, his body responded the way she no doubt intended. “You’ve certainly become a brazen, wicked woman since you became the boss.”
“Yes, but you promised to be the boss in other aspects of my life, and I’ve decided I like bending to your…instruction.”
“You’ve decided that, have you?”
She tossed him a sly, sideways glance followed by a crooked smile he’d never seen her give before. He could spend a lifetime discovering all the different smiles she kept hidden from most of the world. “I’ll hand the men over to Garrett after supper. He’s offered to entertain them in his railcar. I’m assuming with cards to talk of railroad business. Whatever it is that keeps you men occupied will be the way for me to escape.”
Wall tipped his hat. “I’ll be fixing your loader so you’ll have more money to report to the judge. Meet me at the foot of the trail?”
Her smile faded. “If I’m going to be forced to share this land, I’m not going to let the deal include the railroad or your inventions. I promise. And if I’m kicked out of my own company then I’m taking everything I can with me.”
“Best not worry about that right now.” He motioned toward where the men now gathered in a small, secretive circle. “Take it one moment at a time, and get those men down the hill.”
“After supper,” Victoria crooned with a sparkle in her eye, and then turned an expressionless stare on the men as she glided their way like a queen.
Wall headed toward the train to get the part for his loader. Now that he could get the machine fixed, he could get the train moving to help Victoria. At least he’d be able to help her there. What he wouldn’t do to be able to take the weight from her shoulders, and help her carry it.
* * * *
“Gentlemen.” Victoria directed the three men toward where Garrett waited by the train. “If you’ll excuse me for the evening, I find myself rather piqued. Garrett has agreed to entertain you for the remainder of the night.” She made a show of searching the sky for light. “Although, by the looks of the clouds, I think the sun may set a bit earlier than expected.”
The men said their goodbyes in their customary manners, and she waited until Garrett shut the door behind him before ducking on the other side of the train.
In the distance, across the clear-cut area around the train tracks, Wall stood waiting for her. Her heart sped up at the same time her feet did. She wanted to disappear up the mountain. Needed to. Even if just for a few hours.
The sun faded into night, but she didn’t care. She’d chance the trails during the night as long as Wall was there to guide her.
He smiled when she neared, and stood taller.
She returned the grin as he grabbed her hand and towed her up the hill. They disappeared over the ledge, and successfully shut off the world at their backs.
“The men are gone for the day so no one will see us, but we need to hurry before it gets dark.”
“Shouldn’t we place markers or something for when we come back?”
Wall chuckled. “Oh, no, princess. We’re not coming back until daylight. We’ll chance the early morning sun, but I’m not traipsing around these woods in the middle of the night.”
He pointed to the graveyard of widowmakers, high up in the trees as they passed by last year’s Grove. “Too many dangers.”
The sight brought to mind the claim some had made of her company leaving debris, and she searched the brush. While some evidence of their previous year’s operation remained, the scraps were not what they’d been the first time she came up the mountain. “What happened to the debris?”
“You said you were worried about it, so I talked to the Bull. He had his men clean it up when they weren’t busy falling.”
He grabbed her hand to tow her, forcing her to take longer strides. “You did that for me?”
“You’ve a lot going on, and it’s our job to ensure the operation up here runs as smooth as you expect it too.”
/> Victoria struggled to breathe evenly as she walked. The exertion of the hike causing emotions to swirl through her chest and curl in to bring chaos to her lungs.
The only other man who had ever taken consideration for her in such a way was her father. Even Garrett, during those brief weeks when they’d been unofficially engaged, failed in the little things. Yet here Wall, who maintained no connection to her family save working for her, gave her something so simple with an effect on her life beyond measure.
Sure, she’d given herself to him in her office, and in all honesty hoped it would happen again, but a moment of passion didn’t make him obligated to ensure her happiness and well-being.
By the time they crested the top of the last hill to where the trail opened up to Mother Goose’s Cottage, the sun had begun to stretch what light it could out onto the land, painting the greens of the meadow, and whites of the flowers in a golden light only seen in the high hills of the Rocky Mountains.
Halfway through the meadow, Mother Goose’s Cottage sat empty. Beckoning her to enter into a fantasy of the now, and forget about the past.
In a perfect world, a man and woman could live in a cabin such as this, away from the world and all its troubles, and simply be. In a perfect world, she was the sort of woman brave enough to forget about everything down the hill—all the parties, money, and the business deals. What she wouldn’t give to live in this ideal world.
But life wasn’t perfect. It was flawed and full of injustices.
Wall began to lead her inside, and she pulled on his arm to stop him. “Let’s stay out here until the sun completely disappears. The Mission Mountains are quite the sight.”
Wall followed her line of sight to the blue peaks of the Mission Mountain Range, and nodded. “Be right back.”
On those words, he hurried toward the cabin, and threw open the door. A few seconds later, he emerged with a single, crudely made log chair, and positioned it to watch the mountains, and then motioned for her to sit.
She let out a small, happy breath of air as she took the seat. Half for the comfort of knowing she’d left her damn corset at her house by the mill, and half for the serenity of the moment.
Fiery Passion Page 11