He held up his hands. “At least allow me my coat.”
She shook her head. “No, leave and, when you are outside, I will toss it to you.” She met his frustrated glare. “I know your tricks, Father.”
As he backed away and exited the print shop, he lowered his arms and spoke loudly. “Wonderful to see you again, Jessamine.” He caught his thrown coat and slipped it on. “Your hospitality is as I remember it.” He nodded at a man walking past before he disappeared from sight.
She locked the door and then raced to the back door and locked it too. After resting her head against it, she slid down it until she sat in a heap at its base, trembling.
Many minutes later, the front door rattled as someone attempted to enter. She ignored it, and the visitor left. When footsteps sounded on the rear stoop, she scooted away from the back door. A loud knock resonated through the room, and she covered her mouth to prevent any sound from leaking out.
“Jessie?” a man called out.
Ewan.
“Are ye all right?” The doorknob jiggled, but the door remained shut.
After sitting dumbstruck for a moment, she rose, tripping over her long satin skirts. She flung open the back door to see Ewan walking away from her print shop. “Ewan,” she cried out, her voice breaking and emerging as more of a squawk than a yell.
He heard her and spun at the sound of his name. “Jessie,” he whispered, rushing to her. “Are ye all right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but pushed her inside, and shut and locked the door behind him.
She burst into tears, and he pulled her close.
“Shh, it canna be as bad as all that,” he crooned. He waited until she relaxed, and then he eased her onto a chair. He sat on the edge of her cot and held her hand. “I heard yer da’s in town.”
She nodded and scrubbed at her face with a handkerchief he offered. “Yes. And he wants me to return to New York City. Wants me to marry a man of his choosing and produce an heir for him.”
Ewan made a noise in his throat. “Ye are his heir. He needs no other.”
She rolled her eyes. “He wants a male heir. I would never be good enough.”
Ewan frowned and ducked his head a moment as he thought. “Why no’? Ye do everything the man could want ye to do. Ye run yer own business. Ye are a fine journalist. Ye would make any parent proud.”
Her breath hitched as she exhaled. “You don’t understand my father. I will never be acceptable as his heir. Because I am a woman. I will always be deemed lacking.” She frowned. “I told you about him. About my escape.”
He nodded. “Aye, but I have trouble believin’ a man who’s traveled all the way to the Montana Territory would act for any reason other than love.”
She flushed with anger. “Not all men are motivated by good, Ewan. He desires power and control, and this is how he wishes to dominate me and my life.” She sighed, leaning into his gentle caress.
“How did ye force him to leave here tonight?”
She smiled. “I pulled my knife on him.” She motioned to her boot. “I always have one hidden, although I haven’t been able to use it at every occasion.” She shared a chagrined smile with him. “The Boudoir was one such time.” She flushed as he watched her with pride.
“Ye are a resourceful lass. I should be thankful ye’ve never brandished such a knife on me.” He chuckled when she nodded her agreement. “What will ye do?”
“Wait him out. He won’t remain here long. He believes himself too essential to his company and his career in New York City to spend any appreciable time here.” Her jaw firmed. “I will not be on that train with him.”
He watched her with concern, unable to hide the caring in his eyes. “I ken ye well enough to understand that ye’ll do what ye wish.”
She flinched and looked down. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Ewan.”
He snorted. “What else could ye have meant?” He shook his head in confusion. “Ye made yer wishes plain enough. I ken I’m not the man ye’re lookin’ for.” He smiled, any trace of hurt or anger hidden in his jovial expression. “Ye’ll find someone worthy of ye, I’m certain.”
She glared at him and pulled her hand from his hold. “How can you profess to care for me and then happily discuss my future relationship with another man?”
“It’s because I care for ye that I wish to see ye happy. If it’s no’ with me, it will be with another.” The flush on his cheeks belied his agitation. “Ye have no right to doubt the depth of my feelings, Jessie.”
She dropped her gaze, her hands clenched together on her lap. “Forgive me for being so prickly,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “It’s as Bears said. Ye are fine as long as ye are in control. When ye are no’, ye become feisty.”
She glared at him. “Feisty? I’m not one of your brothers’ beasts!”
He laughed and swiped a finger down her cheek. “Aye, I ken that well enough. I would no’ have ye other than ye are, Jessie.” He watched as she battled tears at his words. “Will ye be safe here tonight?”
She nodded and brushed a hand at her cheeks. “Yes. There is no need for any concern. I’m being foolish.” She bit her lip as he rose.
“Well then, I must leave. I dinna wish to harm yer reputation further.” He bent and kissed her on her forehead before unlocking and leaving through the back door.
She locked it after him and then leaned against it, fighting the impulse to race after him and beg him to stay. To never leave. After many moments she pushed away from the door and walked to her desk.
She sat and tapped a pencil on a piece of paper. Finally, after nearly an hour, she began to write.
The following day, a new edition of the paper was available for purchase. Jessamine took a deep breath and wiped at a piece of copper-colored hair as she battled exhaustion. Dark circles underlined her eyes, and she could not stomach any more coffee to keep her awake.
She smiled as one of the townsfolk jerked to a halt as he read her headline and then entered her shop. When he bought four copies, she smiled and handed them over. She had printed an extra twenty-five copies, unable to print anymore and have them ready for the day’s publication. Soon the townsfolk streamed into her office, and, within two hours, she had sold out.
After locking the front door and pulling shut the curtains—even though she had missed both breakfast and lunch—she moved to her cot where she collapsed into a dreamless slumber. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that of Ewan kissing her forehead.
Chapter 14
Ewan glared at his men as they whispered over a copy of the newspaper. One of the men had brought it back after running an errand midafternoon, and it had been passed from man to man since his return. He shook his head as Ben stood next to him. “I had hoped, when I made ye foreman, that this sort of mischief would cease.”
Ben cleared his throat and whispered, “The article is all about the journalist. Her past. Her challenges with her father. Her father’s cruelty. And his presence in town.”
Ewan froze a moment before striding across the room and grabbing the paper from one of his workers. He managed to extricate it from his grasp without rending it in two. He returned to the table with Ben and set it in front of him.
“True and Tantalizing?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
“That’s what she’s calling this section that will become a frequent feature, similar to the N&N and the F or F.” He grinned at Ewan. “Besides T&T has a nice ring to it.”
“Aye. We all like to believe our lives are interesting enough to be explosive.” Ewan shrugged and then focused on the paper.
True and Tantalizing
There once was a girl who believed in fairy tales and princes. She believed that mothers loved their daughters and that fathers protected them above all else. She caught fireflies in summer, wandered barefoot in the grass in city parks, and listened to a neighbor playing the violin as though it were a full symphony performing. Life was filled with joy and endless opportun
ities.
Then, one day, a man in a gray suit visited. He wanted her to abandon her magical life and forget the only mother she knew. Soon her life was filled with tutors, whacks on the hand when she failed to sit straight, and an empty belly for speaking out of turn. No time for laughter, exuberance, or joy existed in the glacial mansion she was to call home.
The pretty girl transformed into a beautiful woman, and men vied for her attention. However, the man in the gray suit insisted she marry a man three times her age. No act of rebellion, save one, would prevent her from suffering the fate the cold-hearted man planned for her. After her final act of defiance, born of desperation and determination, she survived on her own with only her wits, her talent, and her tenacity.
Now the gray-suited man has returned. Should the woman yield to his demands or continue to forge her life on her own? Should the heroine of this story be forced into a loveless marriage arranged by a calculating, cruel father with no regard for her? I believe not.
Ewan let out a deep breath as he read and then reread her words. “Well, she is good at garnering sympathy.” He set aside the paper and stared at the workbench.
Ben snorted. “That’s all you have to say?” He waited a moment, focusing on the clenching and unclenching of Ewan’s fists. “Why aren’t you over at her shop now, speaking with her?”
Ewan exhaled again, this time closing his eyes while he breathed out. “I’m certain she has plenty of admirers to fend off.” He glared at Ben when he began to argue. “I willna beg. She kens …” He looked at his men who were busy at work, ignoring his conversation. “She kens, aye?” He pushed past Ben and stormed from the workshop.
He stomped down the alley, past the rear of the school, and then slipped onto the main road that led to the valley. When he was nearly to the sawmill, he slowed his frenetic pace. He shivered, despite the sun in the sky, as he had not brought his jacket, and winced at the mud seeping into his boots.
He walked the rest of the distance to the sawmill, focusing on the intense blue of the sky, the white clouds in the distance, and the trees with a few golden leaves clinging to the branches. Fluffy snow sat atop many of the limbs, filling out the branches and preventing them from looking as skeletal. The scent of woodsmoke wafted through the air, and he smiled as he approached the sawmill.
“Miss Ericson,” he called out. “What are ye doin’ outside? ’Tis too cold today.”
She laughed and waved. “Hello, Mr. MacKinnon. There are always chores to do.” She frowned when she realized he only had on a long-sleeved flannel shirt. “Where is your jacket? Come. Nathaniel is inside.”
He accepted her fussing and followed her into the house after kicking off his boots at the front door. He set them in front of the fire to dry and then held his hands out as he shivered as the warmth seeped in. He jerked as Nathaniel slapped him on his shoulders in welcome.
“Ewan! I never expected to see you today.” Nathaniel’s jovial smile faltered as he saw his friend without a coat and huddled in front of the stove.
“I’m fine,” Ewan said. “I was a fool. Upset about something and stormed out of the worksite without grabbing my jacket.”
“Well, let Leena warm you up with some food and hot apple cider, ya?” Nathaniel sat at the tall square table pushed against the wall of the room near the kitchen area. He smiled in welcome as Leena set out steaming bowls of stew, thick slabs of bread, and mugs of cider from a pot on the stove.
Ewan joined Nathaniel and Leena, sighing with contentment as he took a sip of the cider. “Heaven. You should sell your baked goods to the townspeople.” He watched as the siblings shared a long look. “Has Anna or Cailean spoken with you yet?”
“Ya,” Nathaniel said. He waited as he nodded for Leena to speak.
“I want to become her partner,” Leena said as her cheeks reddened with her enthusiasm.
“That’s wonderful!” Ewan said. “It will mean a lot to Cailean to know you are there and to ease Anna’s worries after the bairn arrives.” He frowned as Leena shrugged.
“Karl doesn’t want me to accept such a position.”
Ewan frowned. “I dinna understand.”
Nathaniel chewed a carrot and then set down his stew spoon. “He thinks Leena should continue here, helping me, and then focus on the home they will have together.”
Ewan saw any excitement in Leena’s expression fade as her brother spoke. “Why can ye no’ do both? I ken most men want their wife at home during the day, but Karl should be proud of yer abilities.” Ewan shook his head. “And that ye can alleviate the financial concerns.” He watched as the siblings shared a long look.
“Karl is not as … progressive as you,” Nathaniel said. “He believes any financial solution should be resolved by the men of the family.”
Ewan snorted. “That’s rubbish, and ye ken it. I’ve hardly been accused of bein’ a champion of advancin’ women’s freedoms, but ye canna allow Karl to prevent ye from doin’ something ye desire. Somethin’ ye and yer brother need.” He shook his head in confusion. “I must admit I’m flummoxed.” He paused. “Miss Erickson, what is it ye want? Not what ye worry others want, but what ye want?”
She smiled. “An easy question to answer. I want to work with Mrs. MacKinnon. I want to help Nathaniel after all he has done for me.”
Ewan waited for Nathaniel to speak. When Leena’s brother remained quiet, Ewan spoke. “I ken what it feels like to be in a sibling’s debt. However, I’d no’ recommend ye live yer life attempting to repay a debt. Repaying the debt is no’ what will bring ye peace.” He met Leena’s confused gaze. “I hope ye can decide for yerself what ye want.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat, and Ewan ate the bowl of stew in front of him. He complimented Leena for the delicious bread and gobbled down a piece of apple crumb cake. “Have things slowed down at the sawmill?” Ewan asked.
“Ya.” Nathaniel swiped at his face with his napkin. “Winter came early, an’ none other than you planned by framing buildings before the cold weather arrived.”
Ewan shrugged. “The others constructing buildings in town are amateurs.” He shared a grin with his friend. “I shudder to pass their buildings when a strong wind blows.”
They shared a laugh, and soon Ewan departed for town. As he passed the livery, he ventured inside to speak with his eldest brother. He walked to the small office in the back of the livery and poked his head in. Cailean sat with a ledger in front of him, a lamp illuminating the rows of numbers and his brother’s frown. “Money problems?”
Cailean looked up and smiled. “Nae. We’re prospering, and it’s all due to our partnership. Alistair has more time to work as a farrier, and Bears …” Cailean smiled. “He’s a wonder with horses.”
“Why were ye frownin’?” Ewan sat on an overturned box, his fingers tracing the rim of his hat.
“I’ve wondered for the past few months, but especially since we were full past capacity with the Harvest Festival, about when we’d have a rival livery. I fear we’ll need to expand soon or another shop will open.”
Ewan looked over Cailean’s shoulder, his gaze distant. “They willna build over the winter, an’ I willna build it for them.” He smiled as he focused on his eldest brother. “Ye’ll give me somethin’ to focus on this season, plannin’ the expansion of the livery.”
Cailean smiled. “Thanks.” He set down his pencil and ignored the ledger book as he looked at his brother. “What brings you by?”
“I spoke with Miss Ericson today. I hadna realized ye and Anna had discussed a partnership with her.”
Cailean nodded. “We visited her and her brother yesterday. We planned on discussing it with you tonight.” He raised an eyebrow. “You were absent from supper last night.”
Ewan shook his head, ignoring Cailean’s silent question. “She wants to be a partner, Cail.”
His brother sighed and rested his head on one hand. “I know. It’s convincing her dimwitted fiancé that’s the problem.” He shrugged. “Now that Belle is w
illing to have a partner, I hope Miss Ericson joins her.”
Ewan nodded. “I hate that there’s nothin’ more I can do to help ye.”
With hazel eyes shining with gratitude and love, Cailean smiled at his youngest brother. “You’ve done plenty, Ewan. You’ve brought Belle’s sister home. You’ve opened Belle’s eyes to the possibility of a partnership. She hates the idea of closing the bakery, but I fear that would have occurred had she remained obstinate in her desire to run it alone.”
Ewan nodded, tapping his hat between his legs and hitting the side of the box a few times. “How are ye, Cail? Now that the bairn grows and the birth approaches?”
Cailean ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward as though in prayer. “Terrified. Excited. Determined to enjoy every moment I have with Belle.” He shrugged. “I imagine I’m like most husbands.”
“Aye, but ye ken what it is to lose everything.” Ewan cleared his throat, changing the subject for his brother. “Have things calmed here for Bears? I witnessed a man treating him with disrespect last week.”
Cailean sighed, his finger tapping at the desktop in agitation. “Aye, it’s no different now than before the article. Her apology”—he raised his eyebrows at the dubious use of the word—“appeased many of the townsfolk. There were enough here, who, after they calmed down, remembered the relationship Jack had with Bears.” His jaw tightened for a moment. “There will always exist those who wish ill on others or act like idiots.”
Ewan nodded. “I’m glad ’tis no worse than it ever was.” He rose. “I’ll see ye at home for supper.” He slipped out the door and returned to the worksite, ignoring his desire to stop by the print shop to see how Jessamine fared.
Warren rapped on her door the following morning and waited for her to unlock it. He smiled when she let him in. “How does it feel to be the talk of the town?”
She shuddered. “I’m the talk of the town for all the reasons I dreaded.” She glared at the one copy of the last paper she had kept. She always printed herself a copy and had a large file where she stacked them on top of each other. Soon it would be covered by the latest edition. “I had hoped I was vague enough that the townsfolk did not realize I was referring to myself.” She shared a chagrined smile with Warren. “They are more astute than I gave them credit for.”
Montana Maverick Page 19
