Fiery Passion

by Dawn Luedecke

  Addressed to none other than Boilson Mines. The same company she supplied wood for. The one who would suffer if she were to go under. She couldn’t help but wonder what business a large rancher had with a mining company.

  The sound of Wall’s boots on the stairwell made her jump as he rushed down to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded, because in all honesty, if she talked, she didn’t know if she’d blurt out the question burning in her mind, or even be able to get words to form in her mouth.

  And did Wall know that his father not only cohorts with Nichols, but also Boilson Mines. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Not when the driving force behind the governor’s campaign was agriculture land, and the biggest rancher around happened to also have a son who worked for her. There was no way he was a spy for the cattleman. Was there?

  No.

  This wasn’t a game of war and sabotage.

  Except last year it was.

  Could Wall have seduced her for information? To make her weak so they could get the upper hand in their fight to control the mountain?

  The sound of him descending the staircase brought her focus to inside the house once more as Wall emerged.

  He grabbed her hand and led her out of the house, not caring one whit over who saw. Was it a show for her sake, or simply him not caring who saw his affections toward her?

  “The chicken likes to sit on the swing our father made us when we were young. It’s a bit farther back in a small grove of trees behind the house.”

  Out in the corrals Wall’s sisters wrestled with something she still couldn’t quite make out. His sisters. They’d seemed genuine, and so did his mother. This was all so confusing.

  Wall rounded the house and headed toward the line of trees on the outskirts of the meadow. In a few minutes, the swing appeared hanging from a tall sturdy branch jutting from an old tree, and as Wall promised a white hen sat atop the swing as if waiting to be pushed.

  “Be careful or she’ll peck your arm. She likes to be pushed gently, but touch the seat and she’ll think you’re trying to steal the swing.”

  Victoria tiptoed closer and pushed the chicken. The bird clucked and flapped her wings once, but remained on her perch and swayed with the motion of the swing.

  “Are you all right?” Wall asked.

  “Fine,” she lied.

  He was the only person on this earth who seemed to be able to tell her moods, what she truly thought of a situation just by the way she reacted. How long could she keep her doubts about him a secret before she addressed them with him? Long enough to talk with Boilson Mines she hoped.

  * * * *

  Wall studied the way Victoria held the baby pig in her arm as he saddled three horses. Her natural gestures toward the creature. The way she warmed to the innocence. What she didn’t know was the little thing would soon grow up to be as surly as Frank, but for now he’d let her have her moment.

  A moment so different from the ones she experienced in town. Hell, he doubted she’d ever held a pig before today. Doubted she’d ever done a lot of things before coming to Hartland.

  She still held herself back. At least she did again. Ever since the meeting with her father the day before she’d grown distant. Aloof. She warmed whenever his sisters were around, but he suspected even the devil himself couldn’t withstand a group of women as strong willed and determined as the Adair sisters.

  “Ready? Pappy says Widow Yancy has tea at the church every third Tuesday of the month.”

  “At the church?”

  Wall nodded, recalling the traditional gathering of clucking hens, as his father so lovingly called the Hartland Women’s society. “There’s a meeting there of sorts. If we get there in time you could join them. Maybe feel her out.”

  “You won’t be there with me?”

  Wall shook his head. Not only were men strictly not allowed at the church at that time, but he wanted to check the post for news about the land purchase. “I’ve got some things to do in town.”

  She seemed satisfied at his answer. Happy even. Which made the bottom muscles of his mouth want to turn down. Why the sudden air toward him? Was it his father? Was he no good to her now that the refusal for logging rights was renewed?

  The gentle roll of the wagon wheels on the ground sounded outside the barn, and Victoria stood to dust the straw from her backside, beautifully bedecked in her split skirts once more. The way she’d been on the river.

  He slid an appreciative eye from her perfect hair, to the mud on the toe of her boots—which, it seemed, she’d yet to notice. In only a few short months the woman before him had transitioned from the London schooled socialite she’d been trained to be, to the earthy goddess who stood before him now.

  He might have to stop calling her “princess” if she kept up the way she did. Then again, he liked teasing her with the moniker.

  Wall and Victoria emerged from the barn as Jax pulled the wagon to a stop, and his sisters all began to climb onboard.

  “Everyone is going?” Victoria asked.

  “I’m fairly confident my sisters started the event. Although I can’t be certain. The whole thing is dreadfully secret, and a bit frightening to us men of the valley.”

  He hadn’t seen a genuine smile from her since the meeting with her father, but that little tidbit elicited one. At least his sisters’ antics could make Victoria happy. Perhaps she had a mischievous streak in her veins she’d never been able to satisfy before. If so, she’d fit right in with his family.

  First, he needed to find out what was bothering her.

  Victoria climbed onboard as Wall tied the spare horses to the back, and then took the driver’s seat next to her. He directed his next words at his sisters, “There will be no sneaking off today. For any reason. Willa. And I’ll expect everyone to be back in the wagon by lunch.”

  “I’ll have you know I had a very important appointment to keep that day, and as you can see I’m whole and well.” His sister held out her arms to prove her point.

  “Regardless, wagon by noon.”

  “Oh, all right,” Willa said. He decided to make the assumption that she spoke for the whole of his sisters, and Victoria. Hoped anyway.

  “How do you like the Lazy Heart so far?” Layla asked Victoria.

  “It’s charming. I never imagined country life could be so affecting.”

  “It’s not all filthy cowboys and rowdy drunks?” he teased.

  “Oh we got plenty of them,” Georgiana supplied, “but they keep to the saloon outside of town. Pappy let the cowhands have their vices as long as Hartland doesn’t turn into an outlaw town.”

  “Where is he? Your grandfather?”

  Wall turned the wagon down the main road to town. “He brought the rented buckboard in this morning. We’re bringing him a horse and he’s sending the buckboard back with a family who’s headed out that way. Pappy’s sort of the sheriff, post master, and fixer in town.”

  “Until Montana becomes a state and everything has to become official. Then we’ll be trying to do things a bit more official.”

  “Trying?” Victoria asked, her face shining with humor.

  “Well, up here it’s just us,” Wall explained. “Most of us are ranchers with business in town on the side. But were a tight community.”

  “I see.” Victoria faced the road as the small town came into view. Square in the center, the white steeple of the church towered over the rest of the buildings with women from ranches all around bustling about.

  Wall maneuvered the wagon into the field behind the church, and set the break. “Jax, take care of the wagon, will ya? I need to get the women settled.”

  “Sure,” his brother said, and jumped down.

  “When you’re done meet me at the post office and we can go to the mercantile together.”

  His brother nodded and ran toward the front of the h
orses, and Wall rounded the wagon to help Victoria down, but to his disappointment she’d already leapt to the ground along with his sisters and was walking toward the row of tables set in the yard outside the church.

  He caught up to her. “Widow Yancy is the one over there in the green.” He pointed to the woman in question. “She never had any children, and her husband died of the fever when I was fifteen. She’s survived off neighborly hospitality, grit, and a whole lotta determination since then.”

  “Hhmm,” Victoria said, watching the widow as she spoke. “Sounds like she and I will get along splendid.”

  “When we’re done here you and I can ride to Old Man Jones’s house, and get him to sign on with Great Mountain.”

  “You don’t have to help me, you know. I can manage my business on own. All I would need is to rent a horse from you, and directions to Old Man Jones’s house.”

  He frowned at her sudden back step in their plight. “This is what we came for isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but you’re not obligated to me, and I would prefer you didn’t get in my way when I negotiate.”

  Wall stretched his neck as it began to tighten. “We’re past that point in our relationship, and I’m finding your sudden change in attitude to be quite silly. Would you please decide if you want my help or not, because quite frankly, it’s getting irritating to always be pushed to the back of the barn with you.”

  She looked at him as if he harbored a secret. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to help me so bad?”

  “Because I swore to. Because I like my job at Great Mountain and would like to keep it.”

  “That all?”

  He shook his head, but at the moment his sister began to clap her hand for the attention of the women. “No, but this is a discussion we’ll have later.”

  Victoria focused on the women’s meeting, and walked away without another word. What in the world was wrong with the woman who only yesterday leaned into his arms as he kissed her in his bedroom? The woman he planned to marry, if he could only figure her out.

  What bug had gotten into her britches between then and now?

  Wall gritted his teeth and headed toward the post office. Stretching his gate long so the strain in his leg muscles might take the focus away from the ire in his gut.

  Before he even worked up a rapid breath, he took the steps and tossed open the door. Pappy snapped his gaze to him as he entered. “Scare a man like that and you’re bound to get a bullet between the eyes. What’s got you all worked up?”

  Wall answered by yanking the mailbag off the counter and rifling through the contents.

  “Ah, the woman,” Pappy answered for him.

  Wall still remained silent. Not wanting to talk about her. Especially not to Pappy.

  “Well, a good one will twist a man up. Make him regret he ever met her, and at the same time make him hope they’ll never be apart.”

  “How would you know? Your wife left you alone with a daughter and ran off with a card player.”

  “And I learned my lesson. She was all too accommodating to me. I didn’t challenge her, and she didn’t challenge me.”

  “You don’t sound like you harbor any ill will toward her.”

  “I hurt enough for a century’s worth of pain, but I had a daughter to think about so I gave her the world. Or at least a valley.” He motioned toward where the expanse of the valley would be outside the building.

  “I’m not certain what Victoria wants. She’s always so confusing.”

  “All women are.”

  “The girls aren’t. They tell it like it is.”

  “To you. Their brother. I’d wager to a man they fancied, they’d be a bit more reserved.”

  Wall chuckled. “Let’s hope or else we’ll never get them married off.”

  His pappy laughed with him as Wall dropped the bag on the counter. “Did a letter come in for me or Victoria?”

  “Nope, but I’ll let you know when one does.”

  “Thanks.” Wall left as Jax walked up to the building. “Do you need Pappy for anything or can we go to the merc?”

  “Merc,” his brother answered.

  With a nod toward the building, Wall led the way.

  “Your boss lady seems nice, and it looks like neither one of you has seen the hoosegow.”

  Wall ruffled the boy’s hair. “Not yet, but the summers not over.”

  “I know she’s having some troubles. I heard Pa talking about it.”

  “Did you?”

  “He’s not happy with you choosing the mill over the family.”

  “I figured.”

  “He’s got the governor doing all kinds of things to try to get you to come home.”

  “I figured.”

  Jax skidded to a stop. “Maybe you should just do it, Wall. Come home already.”

  Wall motioned for the boy to keep walking. “I will, but not yet. Victoria needs me.”

  “Haven’t you stopped to think you’re the reason why she’s having all these troubles? If you weren’t in her life she’d be fine.”

  Wall forced his feet to keep walking and not stop at his brother’s words. He hadn’t really thought about it in such a light. He’d been so consumed with helping her fix her problems, he hadn’t stopped to consider he may be the main problem in the first place.

  Sure he’d made the connection between the governor and his father, but not the ramifications of the plight. And knowing his father he wouldn’t back down until Wall came home. He’d have the governor squeeze Great Mountain until it was gone. Not that he was a bad man, but one thing Hamilton Adair did was get what he wanted. Which at this point in life was for Wall to be home.

  Now fate, and his father, were going to force him to choose. Should he let Victoria go and save her company, or keep her for himself and destroy her business, her life, and an entire town who depended on the mill?

  Chapter 15

  Victoria mentally shook off all of the confusion Wall and his enchanting family had on her. She needed to focus so she could secure the contract for the widow’s trees, and by the looks of the hardened woman before her, it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Along the edge of a small gathering of chairs, two long table were set with refreshments enough for a small group. She clicked her dry tongue to the roof of her mouth, and then plucked up a small cup of tea.

  Women filed in, all carrying small satchels. They tucked them under their chairs.

  Careful not to spill, Victoria slid into a chair next to the widow. “I’ve never been to one of these. What are they all about?”

  The widow pierced her with a challenging frown. “Women.”

  “I figured that.” Victoria did her best to sound charming and innocent, but Lord above she found dealing with women difficult. They hated her. Most of them out of jealousy. Some because she harbored a broken engagement, but not one of them she cared about.

  Well, most women hated her.

  She watched as Wall’s eldest sister, Bethany, gathered the group around and began to talk. She’d yet to be judged by them, and they’d all welcomed her with open arms and a genuine, if not mischievous, grin. Sort of like the women had formed an Adair family sister’s alliance. Except she wasn’t an Adair.

  Bethany’s one-sided conversation centered on cattle at the time, so Victoria took the opportunity to lean closer to the widow, hoping to draw her in to a sense of secrecy. “Are we against all men or just those in Hartland?”

  The widow stared at her now as if she were daft. “Heavens no. We women are here to keep our sanity is all.”

  Victoria drew back and frowned. The widow didn’t seem to want to give more than short or uninformative answers. She was missing the mark completely. Perhaps she should wait until after Wall’s sisters finished their tattle.

 
To her amazement, the meeting continued on with more talk about the valley’s happenings. Reports on the welfare of certain families, and conditions of farms after the dry summer.

  Quite disappointing, really. For all the secrecy shrouded around the event, not much more than a farmer’s report happened between the chairs and tables.

  Not until Willa clapped.

  “Now that’s over, let’s get to the good stuff. Missy, I believe you and Georgiana lost last month so if you would.” Willa pointed toward the corners of the church, and the two women stood to run toward the edge and take a lookout position.

  “What in the world is going on?” Victoria asked, more to herself than anyone else.

  “The meeting,” the widow said with pride, and smiled.

  The women all stood, picked up their satchels, and meandered toward the table. Victoria followed.

  “Five-card stud is the game of the month, ladies.” Willa pulled a stack of cards from a hidden pocket in her skirts and began to take them out to shuffle.

  “At a church?” Victoria had never been one for doxology works, but she’d never imagined the good women of Hartland to be secret society card players, on a Tuesday afternoon, at the chapel. “Isn’t this blasphemy?”

  “No. Nope.” Layla held up her hand as she shook her head. “We’re outside the church. Made certain of it.”

  “Also made certain the Good Lord’s property line is over there with the chairs. All we did was talk business. The tables are on no-man’s land.”

  Victoria rubbed her forehead as the women unbuckled their satchels and pulled out needlework, placing them on their laps, but not touching them otherwise. “Oh, Good Lord above.”

  The widow peered skyward. “Amen.”

  Seeing no other recourse, she took a seat between Bethany and the widow as Willa handed out the cards.

  “So what do you do if it’s raining?” Victoria picked up her cards, and looked at her hand. She’d played poker with Garrett at the lumber camp the year before. Luckily she knew enough to get her by until the end of the game. She hoped.

  “The Lord may have cursed the farms with a dry summer,” the widow said, “but he blessed our card game with one. We haven’t had to deal with rain as of yet.”