by Amber Stokes
He shrugged his bony shoulders, unblinking. “No, ma’am, but I think it’s drawing unnecessary attention.”
Not bothering to acknowledge the leering gazes aimed her way, she tilted her head and chuckled. “Maybe I like attention.” He would never know that she was once a shy, albeit determined, girl who only craved the attention of one man.
“Well, humor me, will ya?” He leaned forward and placed the coat around her shoulders.
His gentle touch and the protective gesture confused her. This was the same miner who had dumped a pitcher of water on her when she’d tried to comfort a dark-haired, lonely man in the only way she knew how anymore. The man had appeared so lost as he downed his whiskey, speaking angrily with her boss but obviously searching for a distraction to whatever was causing his eyes to glisten in the low light of the barroom. In that moment she had felt a kinship with him that she didn’t want to let go. But Myghal had stopped them cold with a splash of water and taken the dark-haired man away, leaving her in that awful room, drenched and alone. So very, very alone.
Tears came to her eyes unbidden. While she had learned long ago to cry whenever the act was needed, this was different. She didn’t want to cry.
Compassion softened Joe’s face as she brushed a hand across her eyes. Standing abruptly and buttoning the coat, she pushed into the aisle and said over her shoulder, “I just need some fresh air.”
Making her way through the aisle was harder than she thought. The jeers, whistles, and sniffs of disdain made her feel like a criminal on her way to the gallows. But she held her head high like Annabelle had taught her.
She could still hear Annabelle’s words, soulful and beautiful like the sounds of the violin her daddy used to play.
Don’t let them intimidate you, Sally. They don’t know what you’ve been through. And don’t for even one moment believe that there is no hope. If a woman like me can get married and live a decent life, so can you.
Despite the comfort of the words, Sally couldn’t take them to heart. She knew what Annabelle’s marriage was like – how she was still treated like an outcast by society and how her own husband neglected her when she needed him most. It would be the same fate for Sally if she were to get married.
Swallowing back more tears, she walked out of the train car and stood on the small platform between it and the next car, leaning her arms against the railing and letting the wind run its fingers through her hair. The wind was her friend – its moaning and freezing force a kindred spirit many a long night.
She unbuttoned the top buttons of Myghal’s coat and reached for the coin purse tucked in the lacy dip of her dress, warming her heart. For a moment, she simply closed her eyes as she held it, letting the dreams of the past crowd out the horrors of the present.
She recalled Jack’s handsome face – the way his dusty brown hair hung roguishly over his kind, warm eyes. A smile lit his whole boyish face when he spoke of the West, and when he held her back home, it felt like a sunny day would surround her forever.
Hot tears pooled in her eyes at the intense longing that still flooded her at the thought of what had once been. Why couldn’t he have been content in the promise of the life they could have shared? In her desperation, she thought that perhaps she would willingly suffer through these past three years again if it meant a future with him. Just maybe…
***
Watching her from the window, Joe could see how Sally could weave a spell over a man and make him fall for her – hard. With the wind toying with her sunbeam-hair, and a soft smile inviting a man to kiss away all her doubts, she looked vulnerable, and yet so happy, as if some wonderful dream could make her forget her present circumstances.
As he walked out to join her, the boards creaked beneath him, betraying his presence. The train swayed, and the background passed in a blur behind Sally as she turned her startled gaze to him. Upon recognition, her eyes grew cold and her posture stiffened. Joe found that he missed the softer blue of her eyes, before the realization of the interruption froze on her features.
“What do ya want, Joe?”
He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. “What were you thinkin’ about just now?”
She paused, fiddling with some little pouch in her hands. “Nothing of any importance.”
In that moment, she seemed regal. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that word should whisper across his mind, but it somehow fit.
He started to reach out to still her fingers, which continued to clasp and unclasp whatever she was clutching, but he stopped himself before he got too close. Instead, he reached up and ran his hand through his hair, trying not to dwell on the thought of how nice it would be to run his fingers through hers.
He cleared his throat, nervous at the direction of his mind’s wanderings. “It must have been something important to you if it put a smile the size of the Nevada desert across yer face.” His voice dropped as he added gently, “You have a real nice smile, Sally.”
Frowning, she tightened her hand over the pouch and shoved past him back into the passenger car. “Don’t get used to it.”
And the spell was broken.
Chapter 3
“I guess this is where we part ways.”
They had barely set foot on the dock at Humboldt Bay before Joe tried shaking her off his boots like so much mud. Sally hated the fear that started weaving a web around her heart. She didn’t need anyone, but the thought of separating from Joe and Myghal at this moment terrified her.
A shadow seemed to follow her all the way from Nevada – on the train ride from Reno to San Francisco, and on the three-day voyage by ship along the coast from San Francisco Bay to Humboldt Bay – and she was sure someone had been watching her the whole time. The feeling was unnerving, and while she longed to head to Oregon, she longed even more for companionship, at least for now. Plus, she needed more money before she could follow through with her plan. But how to convince Joe to let me come with him?
Sally’s hand went to her chest, longing to grip the little coin purse full of comforting memories that lay close to her heart.
“You know, you never did tell me what exactly you and Myghal are doing in this part of California.”
Joe’s golden eyebrows lowered skeptically, while Myghal answered, “I got a letter from a friend o’ mine talkin’ ‘bout this new town where we could maybe find some work loggin’ the redwoods on the California coast. Pay’s not too bad, and it sure beats minin’.”
A wide smile showed the truth of his statement. Having met quite a few miners in the course of her time in Virginia City, she would have to agree. Surely anything beat mining, or any other work to be found in that horrid mining town.
She stepped out of the way of another passenger striding with purpose toward Eureka, gripping Joe’s arm to steady herself. She winced when he shrugged her off, following at a respectable distance when he and Myghal began walking down the pier.
Eventually, she called out above the sounds of the slurping tide and the busy sailors, “What’s the name of the town?”
“Falk.”
“How long will you be stayin’ out there?”
“Can’t say fer sure yet.”
“Are there women there, too?”
Her question was met with surprise and confusion on their faces as they both glanced back at her, and she realized that in her desperation to prolong their departure, she had shown her hand. Pulling out a handkerchief a young miner had given her once as a token of his “lasting” devotion, she wiped her brow in an effort to regain control of her emotions, but she couldn’t stop her lips from trembling.
“I-I was wondering if perhaps…perhaps I might…see this town for myself. I’m decent at cooking, and I really need…some money.”
Their silence following her words was even more awkward than her stuttered declaration. They stopped before stepping onto the street, but she refused to look at them as she waited. Her eyes fluttered to the shops, to the foggy
sky, to the bay, to anything and everything but the rejection she felt sure was coming. After all, rejection always came to her.
“Well, I don’t see why ye can’t come along with us and see.”
When she finally met Myghal’s gaze, she could see uncertainty glimmering there – or perhaps it was the way he crossed and uncrossed his arms that made it so clear. But his words offered her hope, and she released the breath she had been holding. Then her gaze jumped to Joe, and the sight of his clenched jaw made her quickly gulp her breath back in.
“Sally, what’s yer game? The deal was that you could travel with us, not follow us like a stray pup.”
She gasped and took a step forward, ready to slap that contrary face of his and make him take back his words. When she raised her hand, Joe caught her wrist and grasped it hard.
“Don’t even think about it.”
She glared at his big hand swallowing her wrist. Before he could read her next intention, she kicked him in the shin with her fancy shoes. He swore and dropped her hand, rubbing his leg with a force he probably wished he could employ with her. A toss of her hair and a sweet smile caused him to rub at his leg even harder.
“Come now, yer mother taught ye better than that.” Sally had no idea whether Myghal was referring to her or to Joe. Stepping between them, he added, “Sally’s a lady, not a dog. And if she needs some help finding work and a way to get back on her feet, then I say we should help her. That’s what me own mother would want me to do. How ‘bout you, Joe?”
Joe muttered but offered no discernible protest. He was too busy glaring at her with all the hostility he must have saved up ever since they left Virginia City. Not wanting to give Myghal a chance to see how un-lady like she really was, she did her best to wipe away her smile and take on the role of the injured party, complete with a watery gaze.
“Then it’s settled. Falk is callin’ my name, so let’s get moving.” With that Myghal picked up the bag he had set down, took Sally’s from her grasp, and headed into Eureka to find the stagecoach.
Please God, Sally’s heart cried as she hurried after Myghal. She had no idea how to finish the plea.
***
Joe groaned, fed up with the injustices of life just as much as he was fed up with the jarring bounce of the stagecoach ride. He detested sitting across from Sally, watching her long blond hair rise and fall with the jerky movements of the wheels bouncing over the uneven ground. But apparently he wasn’t the only one dealing with anger – Sally hadn’t stopped glaring at him since he made the mistake of calling her a stray pup. He grunted and jerked his gaze out the window. He didn’t regret it. He only wished that she had taken the hint and left him and Myghal alone.
Next to him, Myghal cleared his throat and nudged Joe hard in the side. “You two are worse than a couple o’ dogs in a bettin’ fight.”
“Stop callin’ me a dog!” Sally retorted with a huff before Joe could respond.
Myghal grinned, but Joe just shook his head. “If you’d stop behavin’ like an animal, we’d be obliged to stop callin’ you one.”
If it didn’t take all of one’s strength to simply remain seated inside the stagecoach, he was pretty sure she would have reached over and strangled him. Despite his better judgment, a smile crept onto his face.
With a toss of her head, Sally turned to look out at the passing scenery. He wished he could appreciate the grand trees and the coastal atmosphere, as well, but his belly grumbled with the emotions tumbling around inside him. Like a man seeing an abused stray, Sally’s demeanor had made him cave in and take her along to California. But it wouldn’t be long before she lashed out at the hand that helped her and took off with some other abuser. He wouldn’t let himself get attached. No one else would ever have the opportunity to run off with his heart.
***
As soon as Sally reached down to let Myghal help her from the stagecoach, she realized her mistake. The handful of townsmen who weren’t out working in the woods had turned curious gazes to the newcomers. Curiosity turned to surprise, and perhaps pleasure, when they saw her in her tattered, flashy red dress. She hadn’t found an opportunity or the means to obtain a decent dress, and now her past would define her in this new place.
Glancing at Joe, she realized he wasn’t even looking in her direction. Tossing her blond hair, she stepped primly down from the stagecoach, letting Myghal support her. But it wasn’t the stability of his hand so much as the guilty compassion written on his gentle features that comforted her.
As her feet touched the ground, he whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry, Sally. I should’ve thought to get ye another dress.”
“It isn’t yer fault, Myghal.” Looking all around her, she leveled a glare at each man until he went back to whatever task he had been doing. No need for them to think she was still that kind of woman. If she could just get to Oregon and find Jack, perhaps she wouldn’t ever have to be that woman again. Although she still wanted him to see what he had forced her to become.
“Want me to go with ya to the cookhouse?”
“No. I can handle myself just fine. You and Joe go see to yer own business.”
He looked skeptical but headed off to find the owner, Noah Falk, anyway, with Joe marching ahead without a backward glance. Aggravating man!
Clasping Myghal’s coat tight across her low-cut dress, she made her way to the cookhouse – or at least the building that smelled like a cookhouse. She had no idea if she was supposed to go see Noah Falk first like the boys were doing, but she figured she’d have a better shot with the cook, especially if she was given the chance to demonstrate the practical skills her mother had, once upon a time, passed down to her.
Head high and shoulders back, she pushed through the door and marched past the tables empty of people but full of dirty dishes. Following her nose to the kitchen, she stood in the doorway until the man bending over the stove turned and noticed her.
“Well, it’s finally happened,” he noted without much warmth as his dark eyes assessed her. He was powdered with flour, and a smidgen of butter or grease dripped from his rather muscular forearm. His tall frame would probably be better fitted for working alongside the men in the woods, but Sally figured he must possess some talent since the place smelled so inviting.
The cook picked up a well-used towel and rubbed his hands and arms with it. “I’ll admit to some surprise at Noah allowing a woman like you here. He’s a mite strict about that sort of thing.”
A woman like you. Sally’s neck ached with the strain of holding her head up, but she refused to look down at her shoes in shame. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’re mistaken. I’m not that kind of woman.” Not anymore. Not here.
The cook snorted and glanced pointedly at her dress. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I’m here to see if you could use an extra hand in the kitchen.”
He turned away from her to plunge his hands in the washbasin, rinsing some of the piled-up dishes and taking his time before responding. “I could use an extra hand. You know how to cook?”
Sally jerked in surprise, causing her neck to pop. Wincing, she rubbed it and stuttered, “Y-Yes, sir.”
“Mind you, I’d probably hire you right on the spot if all you could do was wash dishes.” Peering over his shoulder, he added, “It’s quite possible that’s all you can do.”
Sally inched toward the door leading to the dining hall. “Let me help you with dinner. Then you can decide if I’m worth my salt.”
“It’s not my place to hire anyone. But I reckon if you pass muster, I’ll see that you get a job.”
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she rushed the remaining few steps to the door.
“Where you goin’?”
Turning back to the growling man, she replied, “To gather the remaining dishes, of course.”
She couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face as she hurried to prove herself indispensible.
Chapter 4
He was here.
It was a strange
sensation, this knowing. Sally paid no attention to the woodsmen wandering about the logging town. No one questioned her as she hurried past the general store and the lumber mill, not even when she began running toward the forest. Fallers and choppers shouted back and forth to each other the farther into the woods she went, but no one shouted at her. The only voice she listened for was his.
And then she saw him. All other faces, all of her surroundings, were a blur as she focused on his handsome frame standing bold as brass amid the organized frenzy. He wasn’t dressed like a logger. In fact, he looked just as she had last seen him – boyish cap from a trip to New England, the soft green shirt his mother had sewn him, brown britches, and those manly boots that made him appear even more confident than he was back in Missouri. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He was smiling at her – smiling – and all of her plans faded away in the force of his welcoming gaze.
She took one step forward, and still he waited, his teasing grin daring her to run to him. But just as she took another step, she noticed something literally looming over him. Belatedly, she heard the call, “TIMBER!”
Fear and cold sweat poured over her as she traced the path of that huge tree. It would crush him. With a terrified cry, she started running, running, running, but he never seemed to be any closer. Why wouldn’t he move?
Suddenly, an arm wrapped firmly around her waist. She fought with all she had in her, sobbing hysterically, knowing that every moment she was held back was one less moment to reach him.
“Let me go!”
Then she blinked. Jack was gone, and it was night.
***
“Sally Clay, what in the world are you doing out here, shrieking like a banshee and running wild past the bachelors’ quarters?”
Joe didn’t release her, even when he felt her go limp in his arms.
She lifted her head weakly to peer back at him. “Where am I?”
“As if you don’t know. I thought you were through with that kind of life, yet here you are practically begging the men to fall upon you. Don’t you realize that I could have been anyone – anyone?” He was whispering fiercely in her ear, trying to get his own heartbeat to calm down, even as he could feel Sally’s beating at a frightening pace against him.
