He had to give it to her. She'd definitely won this round. And while it might be easier if she followed his orders, he was pleased that she had enough spirit to get what she wanted. She fascinated him. She was selfless and giving, but also strong. She didn't let others walk over her, and she found ways to get what she wanted.
That attitude would serve her well in the west.
It would also please her husband very much.
His hand clenched. The thought of anyone else enjoying her spirit did not sit well.
He followed closely behind her as she let the group into the house. She spoke briefly to the servants, no doubt telling them to bring the refreshments inside.
“Sylvia,” he said, gaining the older woman’s attention. “Will you do me a favor, and keep an eye on the ladies for a few moments?”
“Of course,” she said, bustling off to handle both his and Clara’s requests.
Clara’s eyes widened as she quickly made her way to the kitchen. He followed her like a wolf hunting his prey, and she picked up her speed.
She twirled to face him once they were alone in the kitchen as if she decided to fight rather than flee. "I did exactly as you said. You can't be upset about this, Sawyer." Color fled her cheeks. "I mean Sheriff Morrison."
Hearing his name on her lips did wicked things within him. His jealousy of the other men, and his amusement from her antics heated into something hot and achy. "I like it when you use my name."
She glanced to the doorway. "I'm not sure it's the best idea. It would be unseemly to become too familiar when I'm looking for a husband."
He took a step closer to her. She stepped back.
A grin quirked his lips. "Where are you going?"
"Away from you," she said, shivering as if she could already feel his touch.
"Are you afraid?"
"Of course not. You'd never hurt me."
It pleased him to hear her say so. "No. I would never hurt you nor any woman. But since we're on the subject, I want you to realize that there are other men out there that would."
"I know."
He paused the cat and mouse game. "If you do, then why did you invite them inside instead of asking them to leave? I know you understood what I meant earlier. This large of a crowd isn't safe with only me as protection."
She searched his eyes. "You’ll keep us safe."
A surge of protectiveness rose through him. "I would certainly try. But what if someone cornered you?"
She shrugged as if that wasn't a problem. "That would never happen since I plan to never be alone with anyone."
"You could get caught unawares."
"I'm always careful."
He pounced on her, caging her against the kitchen table.
Her chest heaved against her corset. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
"Making a point." But even as he said it, he knew it was just an excuse to get closer to her. His hand rose up, and he stroked her cheek with an index finger.
Her lids closed heavily at his touch, and the small show of pleasurable acceptance made him crave more. "You weren't prepared for this."
Her eyes opened, unfocused and glazed. "No. No I wasn't."
"This could happen anywhere, at any time. You may think you're safe with these men, but you're not." He cradled her chin, searching her eyes for a sign that she didn't want his touch. "Tell me to stop. Tell me to move away."
Her mouth opened and closed. "I… I can't."
"You want this."
She bit her lip, nodding.
It was all he needed. Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against him, relishing the visceral sensation of her body before he claimed her lips.
There wasn't a need to devour her, and he certainly didn't want to overwhelm her.
He sampled her slowly. A brush across her cheek, a fleeting caress on her jaw. He didn’t leave a part of her exposed skin unclaimed.
He nuzzled her lips, rejoicing in her sigh of pleasure before he sampled her deeper. When she opened for him, his control almost snapped.
He kissed her harder, longer. Pulling out emotions, feelings, anything he could take from her. He needed this from her. Needed this connection. This sense of belonging.
In this moment, it didn't matter who was outside that door, who she'd speak to, or where she went. Because right now she was his. She belonged to him just as much as he did to her.
Their breath mingled as her hands trailed up his shirt, gripping his shoulders before winding around his neck. She held him tight as if she would never let go, and he felt the answering call within himself.
He pulled her tighter, trying to fuse their bodies as he kissed her with raw emotion. Never had anything felt so right. Never had he wanted another with such blazing intensity—
A cough sounded near the doorway.
They jerked apart, and he had a hard time clearing his head as he watched her touch her bruised lips.
He turned to the intruder and felt zero guilt at having kissed Clara.
"Should I come back in a few minutes?" Belle asked, trying not to smile.
He could just imagine what she was thinking. "No. I think Clara and I have said everything that needs saying."
Belle laughed then. From the looks of things, he and Clara had verbally discussed very little. Instead, they'd allowed their bodies to do most of the talking. "I'll be in the parlor watching over the group. Let me know if there's anything either of you need.”
"We will," Clara finally said, nodding with an uncertain smile.
As he walked out of the room, he grinned. While nothing had changed, the group of men didn't seem to bother him as much.
Nope. Life sure looked great right now.
Chapter 8
While the picnic was a success, two days later, Clara knew the money would only last so long with nine women in the house.
"Sawyer, may I have a moment of your time?" she asked, hovering in the kitchen doorway.
He wiped sweat off his brow and put down the ax he'd been using to chop firewood. While others could take over the task, she was grateful for his help.
And the sight of him, stripped down to a thin cotton shirt, his bared tanned skin slick with perspiration made her stomach flip in the most pleasant way. If she wasn't already familiar with feelings of attraction, she might've worried she was coming down with a stomach bug.
In the two days since the picnic, she'd become more and more obsessed with watching him. She couldn't help herself. Who could? She certainly caught a few of the other women glancing his way when he performed some physical task.
He was a handsome man.
But when their gazes lingered a little too long, that was when it became a problem for her. She'd already established that she couldn't marry him. At least not until all the others were married, and that didn't seem like it would happen anytime soon.
Clara led him into the parlor, lecturing herself, and offered him a cold glass of water and a sandwich. He accepted with a grateful nod before digging in. Her mother had taught her from a young age that it was best to ask a man for something after his stomach was full.
"What can I do for you?" he asked between bites.
You could kiss me again for starters. She coughed. "I um… was hoping to talk to you about our mine." When his chewing slowed, she held up her hands. "Now, before you end the discussion, I'd like you to hear me out."
"All right."
"Thank you." When he finished the sandwich, she offered him the plate. He was steadily working on the second when she continued. "I recognize I made a mistake the day I went into town looking for help. It was naive to think I would be able to find a gentleman and convince him to work for us. It was foolish, and I want you to know that I learned my lesson."
Her words put him at ease. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry if I was rough with you that day. Something snapped when I saw the way you were being treated."
It must've taken a lot for him to admit such a thing. In her experience
, men didn't vocalize such emotions unless they were forced, and the fact that he did, softened her even more toward him. "I understand. And while I won't put myself in harms way again," she refused to point out the lesson he'd given her in the kitchen during the picnic, "we’re still in need of someone to either work in the mine or teach us how so we can support ourselves."
"I could look around for a good fit. It might take me some time."
She placed her hand on a side table. "You see, I think I might've found someone already."
He put the sandwich down and leaned forward. "Who?"
"Well… you."
"Me? You want me to help you work your mine?"
"Or you could teach us how," she rushed to say. "I know you and your brother had a claim."
He shook his head and laughed. "I beg your pardon, Miss Stewart, but I'm not sure all of the ladies are up to such a task."
"Clara," she said quietly, watching through her lashes for his reaction.
He stilled. "What?"
"Clara. It’s my Christian name. I'd like you to use it."
"Why?"
She swept her fingers over the table as if hunting dust. "Because. I call you Sawyer now. I feel like we've developed some type of friendship. It feels odd to have you address me as Miss Stewart."
Silence lingered in the air. "I thought it was unseemly.”
She shrugged, refusing to give away her feelings.
“What do you want from me?"
"I told you. To help us learn to mine," she said, but knew that wasn't what he meant. The truth was, she didn't know what she wanted from him. Part of her longed for him to take her into his arms, but that wasn't possible.
He nodded slowly as he stood from his seat. "All right."
She perked up. "You will?"
"Until I can find someone to work the mine, someone who can be trusted, I'll teach you. It's not work I enjoy, but I'll show you how to do it."
Breath whooshed from her chest. Her shoulders sagged. Finally, she'd secured something to help their future. This was a huge first step toward making them self-sufficient. If they could make the mine profitable, she and all the other women would have plenty of time to marry.
Excitement bubbled within her. She'd helped the women just as she'd said. She'd made that happen.
And Sawyer fulfilled that.
She jumped from her chair and launched herself into his arms. "Thank you!"
He chuckled, then wrapped his arms around her, squeezing. "You're welcome."
His breath fanned hotly against her neck, and she shivered. She didn't move, couldn't bring herself too. Being held in his arms felt so right. So good. She wasn't alone. He was with her, sharing her burden of helping the women. She'd always had her family to rely on, but they weren't here now.
His hands rubbed up and down her back slowly as if he was learning the feel of her, and she arched unconsciously into the touch.
"You're so beautiful, Clara."
His words ripped her from the sultry haze of his caresses.
She leaned away, but he held her firm.
She didn't try to move again as he searched her eyes. What was he looking for?
He must understand that there could be nothing between them right now. She enjoyed spending time with him, but he was also a distraction. "I… Thank you for helping in the mine."
He nodded once. "It's no problem. Mining is hard work though. I'm not sure you'll be thanking me after we're done."
"I'm not as weak as all that."
He slid an arm from around her waist up to her bicep and squeezed. "No. You're quite the prizefighter aren't you?"
A reluctant smile crossed her lips. "I might not be at a prizefighter's level, but I'm sure with hard work, I'll gain the muscle necessary."
"That's true." He frowned. "And while I'm willing to show you and the women how to find gold, there's some things that I won't allow you to do."
Her frown was back. "Why not?"
"It's too dangerous."
"Let me guess. Too dangerous for women?" she asked distastefully. Why did everyone think women weren't capable of things men were?
He shook his head. "Some things are dangerous for everyone. Both men and women."
His words appeased her feminine outrage. At least he recognized that men had limits as well. "If we aren't able to do it all, how will we get by?"
"I’ll find someone for you. Hopefully to do it all, but if not, I know I'll be able to get someone for the dangerous aspects. If anything," he said with a grin, "men would be willing if it meant being in your good graces."
"Is that all it takes to be in our good graces?"
"It'd be worth a try."
He released her, and she suddenly wished she was still held in his arms, regardless of the impossibility of it all.
He walked to the door, and her eyes trailed him.
"Talk to the others, and let them know the change in plans. Once they've agreed to my help, we can get started."
"Thank you."
His gaze caressed her face. "Don't thank me yet. You're sure to regret your choice to mine."
Her chin notched up. "I doubt that."
He chuckled as he walked out.
It couldn't be as bad as all that.
"What do you mean we have to work the mine ourselves?" Violet's lips pressed together.
Clara held up her hands to calm the group. "Please, everyone calm down. Lower your voices."
How was she in this same position, refereeing the group? Each of them couldn't seem to keep their temper in check each and every time they met together to make decisions. In truth, she was starting to dread these meetings.
Their personalities were too different. Out of the nine women, no two were alike. While variety was all well and good, it made tough living arrangements.
"Sheriff Morrison was kind enough to agree to show us how to work the mine."
Rosalie paced the rug as if moving fueled her thoughts. "What happened to hiring someone?"
Clara sighed. It really would've been so much easier if she'd been able to find someone. "The sheriff has pointed out that we can't blindly hand things over to a stranger. There are many people that would take advantage and try to steal the mine from us." That bit of news sobered the group. "He told me that while he is looking for someone to help us, he'd show us how to work it ourselves so we can start earning money immediately."
Willow lounged in a delicate silk gown. "Then why not wait until someone can be found? Why jump into mining ourselves when it will only last a short while? This is a mining town after all. Seems like a waste of time to me."
Several of the women nodded in agreement.
Did they not understand the situation they were in? But as Clara looked around at each of them, she concluded that most of them probably didn't. By their dress and what she'd heard of their backgrounds, several of them were from well-to-do families. They probably never had to work a day in their lives. But as she met the eyes of Aria, Belle, and Sadie, she saw that there were at least a few of them who knew what needed to be done.
"It may take some time to find someone. While this is a mining town, most of the men have moved on to other businesses after their mines paid out, and the ones that are left are working their own mines, trying to strike it rich. There aren't a lot of floating miners out of work here. To get someone to help us, we're going to have to make it worth their while."
Violet shook her head. "I'm not handing over a piece of the mine to someone else. I already have to split it with eight others."
Annoyed looks were tossed at the sharped-tongued woman. They all had to share the mine with each other.
"Listen," Clara's shoulders drooped, exhausted from the continual fight, "the sheriff won't allow us to do anything dangerous. We may get a little dirty and break a nail or two, but isn't it worth it so we can be independent? The town could get sick of supporting us at any moment. I for one, would hate to go without the cook and maid. Let alone go hungry because we can't
afford to buy food."
Violet huffed. "They would never let that happen to us."
"Are you willing to bet on that? I'm not." She looked at the rest of the women. "I know this isn't ideal. I know that you all want to focus on courting and getting married, but this is a necessity. If it would make you all feel better, I'm happy to have Sheriff Morrison teach me how, and I'll evaluate to see if it's feasible for us to do so."
A few girls voiced their agreement.
Willow stood from the couch and nodded. "I guess we're mining." She fingered her satin skirts. "If this works out, we'll need to find appropriate garments. It wouldn't due to waste our own clothes on the endeavor."
Olivia smiled shyly. "If this goes well, we'll be able to afford as many gowns as we want."
Belle chuckled and laughter quickly flowed out of Aria's lips until the whole group was laughing.
Clara glanced around at the group of women who should've never even known each other, but were slowly becoming friends.
They were going to be all right.
Chapter 9
Clara glanced skeptically at the river before turning back to Sawyer. "I thought you were going to teach me how to mine."
"Baby steps. Before we teach you to run, let's teach you to crawl." He grinned devilishly. "You'll want to tie up your skirts."
"You're kidding." She eyed the muddy riverbank. Not that she was afraid to get a little dirty, but tying up her skirts was not appropriate in mixed company. Oh, who was she kidding? It was never appropriate.
He loosely folded his arms. "You'll have to unless you want your dress ruined. You're going to need to bend over the river to rinse the soil. You can't pan for gold without water."
Clara chewed her lip. Panning was a legitimate way of finding gold. She could even find some her first time around. But tying up her skirts?
She glanced at Sawyer and the merriment crinkling his eyes. The scoundrel! He knew she was struggling with her modesty.
Well—her chin notched up—if he was enjoying her discomfort, it was high time she made him uncomfortable too. Attraction had been simmering between them for far too long, and honestly, it was making her edgy. Perhaps torturing him would give her a little relief.
A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1) Page 6
