Holding up her skirts, she pushed them between her legs, dividing the fabric before crossing the yards of material back in front of her and tying the two sections into a solid knot. Something worthwhile had come out of climbing trees with her siblings. The shock on Sawyer’s face as he stared at her stocking-clad legs made enduring all of her mother's lectures about the inappropriateness of climbing trees worth it.
She arched a brow at him. "Something the matter?"
He cleared his throat and brought his eyes up to hers. She grinned at the difficulty he seemed to have masking his emotions.
"No." He shook his head before grabbing a pan. "You just surprised me."
"Oh?"
"I wouldn't have expected a lady like you from the east to be able to manage that as quickly as you did."
"I'm not a lady." And that was the sorry truth. She wasn't refined, delicate. She'd worked her whole life, had scrimped and saved and went hungry to help her family. She would be working her fingers raw in a factory now if it wasn't for Ivan's advertisement. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked at the clear, flowing water at her feet.
"You are to me."
He hadn't moved before saying those words. He hadn't reach out his hand. But even though he wasn't physically touching her, those small little words felt like a caress. "Dressed like this?" No lady would be caught dead with her skirts up.
Her eyes met his as he nodded. "It doesn't matter what you're wearing, Clara. You're a lady. You're gentle, kind. You look out for others, and you try to do the right thing. That makes you a lady in my book more than wearing a fancy get up and lifting your nose while quoting French poetry."
She could see it in his eye. He meant it. Every word.
Her heart beat a little faster. Her breath shallowed. He valued her. Thought she was more than a poor girl one step from starving, more than a pathetic woman duped into traveling hundreds of miles from her home, and more than the partially educated woman she believed herself to be.
Why did she continue to push this man away?
She thought she had to remain separate for the sake of the group. That somehow, if she got involved romantically, she wouldn't be able to help the other women. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. She saw that now.
Sawyer was already there. He was helping the women just as much as she was. Being with him wouldn't change that. There'd be some things they’d need to work out, but none of it was insurmountable.
Why shouldn't she have the opportunity to love and be loved? She'd come here to get married just like any of the other eight women. If she was the first to find it, so what?
As she looked at Sawyer, really looked at him, her gaze lingering on the golden highlights the sun teased from his grown out hair, the way his linen shirt clung to harden muscles as he bent over the river, the way his pants showcased a rather attractive backside, she’d admitted that she’d never seen a more attractive man.
She blushed.
She shouldn't be noticing his backside. But she did. Right now, as the wind whistled softly in the trees and the stream bubbled lazily down the rocky bed, she took in everything about him.
She wanted him. Really wanted him. But did he want her?
Running a wet hand through his hair, making the tawny strands darker, he turned toward her with a smile. "You ready to start?"
Oh, was she ever. He had no idea she was about to make a play for his heart.
Breath caught in his throat as he turned toward Clara after testing the water temperature. There was something different in her eyes, something smoldering. And she was looking at him.
She walked toward him, her hips swiveling as she got closer to the water's edge. "What do I do first?" Her voice was breathy as if winded from exertion, and a shiver raced down his spine.
It was how she sounded after a kiss. His kiss.
"You'll need a pan. Grab the extra one out of the sack." He gestured to the brown bag on the ground, hoping she didn't hear the edge in his voice.
"This one?" She held up a dingy pan he'd used for years.
"Yep." She moved next to him, and her shoulder brushed against his arm. He cleared his throat. "So, ah, there's not much to panning for gold if you know what you're doing and what to look for. Gold was plentiful here, so it's possible that you could find some in any spot on the river, but the best places to look are where the gold could get caught over time."
"Caught?" Her brows wrinkled so adorably, he wanted to kiss the puckered skin.
He stopped himself before moving in. Barely. "Gold is heavier than rocks and silt. So if you can find places where stuff get's caught in cracks or dips, you're likely to find better deposits. But for the sake of teaching you how to pan, we'll just use some of the dirt from the river bed."
Her lips pursed as she nodded, her concentration shifting from him to the river. Luckily. The last time he'd kissed her, she'd responded. Their attraction to each other was hard to ignore. But she resisted it. Resisted the pull between them.
If she didn't want anything to do with him in that way, fine. He had never forced his attentions on a woman, and he certainly wouldn't force anything on Clara. In fact, he'd shoot any man who attempted such a thing.
He scowled at the river before he realized what he was doing and cursed silently. He was in deeper than he thought if just imagining another man kissing her got to him.
It was better that she wanted nothing to do with him. The town would have a fit if they were together. But even as he thought that, he knew none of it mattered. If Clara wanted him, he’d be a damned fool to turn her away.
He wasn’t a fool.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Huh?"
She cocked a hip, and her knee popped out beneath the layers of pinned up skirt. Mercy. She had legs men worshiped.
"Why are you scowling? Did I do something wrong already?" She frowned, looking down at her empty pan.
He chuckled at her confusion. Hell, he was confused. The whole situation was baffling because he was attracted to her but refused to do anything about it. "No. Sorry. Thinking of something else. Start by scooping up silt in your pan from the riverbed. Don't worry about getting it too full."
She bent over, and her skirt rode a little higher in the back, but he kept his eyes on her face. He should be sainted for such self control.
She came back up with a half-full pan. "That's good. Now, lean back down and add some fresh water to the pan and shake it back and forth."
She dipped the pan in and gently swirled the water. "Like this?"
"You need to do it harder, faster." He closed his eyes. Lord, have mercy. If he could just get through this lesson and only think of panning, he'd be lucky. "Essentially, what you're doing is trying to get rid of the pebbles and silt. As you shake, the lighter stuff, the stuff that you don't want, will rise to the top, allowing the gold to fall to the bottom of the pan."
She shook harder and some silt clouded the water, but it still wasn't enough.
Steeling himself, he placed his hands over hers, relishing how warm she was, how sweet she smelled, but refused to allow himself to do anything else. He shook the pan firmly through her hands, showing her the quick shakes needed to produce the correct results. "You'll want to begin like that. Once you've gotten rid of most of the silt, you'll do it softer."
He stepped back and watched her copy the motion and nodded his approval. She learned quickly. "Good. Now, as the water gets murky, you'll want to empty it and get fresh water."
He demonstrated how to get rid of it and refill without losing the heavier material.
She followed his instructions exactly. Refill, shake, rinse. Refill, shake, rinse. She did this until little remained in her pan. She swirled the final pieces across the bottom, and he leaned over to see the results.
"There." He pointed to a small nugget. Nothing like the size he'd dug out of his mine, but it was still gold. "That's gold."
She gasped. "It is?" She scoured the pan with her gaze. "What about tha
t?"
He eyed the piece she pointed to and shook his head. "No. That's iron."
"This?"
She pointed out another piece, and he grinned. "Gold."
"Yes! I did it." The smile that flashed to her face robbed him of breath. "I found gold." She did a little dance in the river before twirling. "Thank you. I couldn't have done this without you."
He chuckled at her joy. She was so beautiful it actually ached to look at her. The need to hold her, to kiss her, overwhelmed him.
She twirled again holding the pan in the air a moment before her foot caught on a rock.
His hand reached out to steady her as she teetered, but it was too late. Unfortunately, his legs hadn't been braced to catch her, and they both fell into the stream, he on top of her.
"Oomph!"
Horrified, he scrambled, pulling her up until the water was chest high with her arms braced behind her. "Are you hurt? Are you all right?"
She snorted with her head down, and he was worried she had water in her lungs. Reaching behind her, he whacked her back gently, until her snorts turned into laughter.
His hand stilled on her back as wet, merry-filled eyes looked into his. Giggles escaped her lips, and the sound of pure joy pulled chuckles from his own lips. "I take it you're not choking."
Peels of laughter escaped her a moment before she looped her arm around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers for a quick kiss.
His body went rigid when she broke the connection, but she didn't let go, just continued to smile into his eyes.
"What was that for?" he asked huskily.
"I wanted to thank you."
"For what?" Whatever it was, he'd do it over and over again if she would just press her lips to his again.
"For helping me find gold. For making me laugh." She giggled. "For trying to stop me from drowning."
His head ducked as he thought of the way he’d pounded her back. It all seemed so ridiculous now. "I do what I can."
"Thank you, Sawyer."
He shivered, hearing his name on her lips. Damn, it felt good. Too good. "You're welcome."
He should pull away. He knew that. But he didn't want to. His body caged hers in the water, rising above her in a way that felt both protective and dominating. Having her beneath him, even with layers of clothes and water between them, felt good. He wasn't ready to give that up.
Apparently, neither was she.
She tugged on his neck again, but this time, he lowered his head slowly, allowing the tension between them to build. The trickling stream turned to a full blown rush of sound as his heart accelerated.
One more kiss would be enough. One more taste. He wouldn't take anything else from her. But he needed this.
He lowered his head, thrilled when she closed her eyes on a shiver. When his lips touched hers again, it was his turn to shake.
He took her slowly, gently, reveling in her taste as the sun heated his back.
She murmured something between the soft grazes of lips, moaning when he kissed her deeper.
She tasted like heaven. Like the first strike of gold. Like spring after a bitterly cold winter.
Like home.
Like mine.
The possessive thought startled him enough to pull from her lips. He searched her hazy eyes, her rosy lips.
His.
"Sawyer?" she asked, confusion filling her eyes. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." He said it a bit too quickly.
He jumped up and reached down for her, taking her hands quickly before pulling her up. She allowed her body to overshoot, and she fell into him.
He hissed out a breath as the feel of her soaking form pressed against him, the delicious heat of her skin burrowing through his wet clothes.
If he didn't get away from her right now, this very second, he was going to do something he'd regret. "We should, ah, probably get out of these wet clothes." He cursed. "I mean separate. At the house. Back at the house in different rooms."
Could he sound any more idiotic?
She smiled, clearly amused by his asinine response. "Probably wise."
She looked up at the sky, closing her eyes while taking a deep breath.
He almost swallowed his tongue. How was such beauty possible? He'd never seen any woman to rival her, and he knew he never would.
"Can we come back soon?"
He was starting to realize that he’d take her anywhere she wanted. "We can come whenever you like. I still need to show you how to mine too."
"Tomorrow?"
He nodded, sealing his fate.
Chapter 10
Clara hummed as she worked in the garden. Sylvia forbade any of the women to help around the house, insisting that such things were her job. But that didn't sit well with Clara.
Frankly, the inactivity was driving her crazy. She would be with Sawyer in a few hours, learning to mine, but until then, she had nothing else to do.
Sylvia would just have to deal with finding the vegetable garden weeded. And weeded well.
A snort sounded from behind her. "You're going to get in trouble for that."
Clara turned, dirt in hand as she eyed a snickering Belle lingering in the doorway. "Only if someone tells her who did it."
"My lips are sealed."
Belle marched over to Clara's side. It wasn't graceful, but she didn’t look clumsy either. Clara realized it was just the way the woman walked. "Did you need something?"
Belle shuffled her walking boots. "I just thought you should know. Some of the women are inside. Talking." She glanced back at the house pointedly.
Warning bells went off. What now? "About what exactly?"
"Well, some of them are upset." She waited, but must have realized that Clara wasn't catching on. "Upset about you and Sheriff Morrison."
Sheriff Morrison? "What could they possibly be upset about?"
Belle squared her shoulders, gearing up to break the news. "Sadie saw you kiss the sheriff in the river. She told Willow. Unfortunately, Willow told the rest of us."
Clara laughed. "That's all? Why would everyone be upset about that?"
"Violet’s got everyone all worked up that you've been volunteering to learn to mine so you could spend more time with him. She made it seem like you're stealing him away from the rest of us."
"What?" Clara tossed the dirt down and rose with a strike. "That's preposterous!"
Belle held up her hands. "I know that. I'm on your side."
"I didn't realize that I needed to have a side."
"You don't." Belle's shoulders fell. "I'm sorry."
Clara shook her head hard as she ground her teeth. "You don't need to be. This whole thing is ridiculous."
She took a step toward the house in righteous fury before Belle reached out to stop her. "What are you going to do?"
"Straighten this out. You coming?" Clara arched a brow sharply before brushing past her friend and into the house.
Straight into mutiny.
All eyes turned to her when she entered, and Belle stepped around her to join the others.
Clara met Sadie's eyes before the woman mouthed I'm sorry.
The apology and the upset in Sadie's eyes alleviated a little of her wrath. At least she hadn't meant for this fecal flurry to start. It took some of the sting away.
"Belle told me we have a problem. Although I'm afraid I'm not quite sure if I believe her. She informed me that Sadie saw me kissing the sheriff, and that some of you are upset by that. Is this true?"
Willow stepped forward. "You're damn right we're upset. You're supposed to be helping us. Not stealing away a perfectly good marriage candidate."
A few murmured their agreements, but she noticed that not all agreed with Willow's sentiment. It didn't matter though. Her temper was slow to light, but when it did, it burned hotly.
She stared down the group. Willow and Violet didn't turn away, but Rosalie lowered her gaze. "Are you telling me, that I'm not allowed to find someone? That I'm not as equally deserving of l
ove as you all?"
Violet swaggered closer and cocked a hip. "You're supposed to be helping us. Not whoring yourself out."
Olivia and Juliette gasped.
Clara's hand flew out, striking Violet's cheek before Clara even realized what she was doing. The move to violence shocked her, and her voice shook. "Don't ever call me that again. I think you've all forgotten that I am one of Ivan's mail-order brides too. I may have volunteered to help us for the good of all, but I'm certainly not a servant, and I have zero intention of waiting on the sidelines to find love. I would never begrudge any of you that. Not after what we've been through."
"Is that what you've found?" Juliette asked, her black eyes quiet, watching. "Love?"
All eyes turned to hers. Even Violet's glaring ones, but she didn't say a word against Clara after the slap. "I don't know exactly what I feel for Sawyer, but one thing I do know is that it's none your business unless I confide in you. I've been working with Sawyer to secure our finances because I'm happy to help the group. I want to help. But if any of you think I'm not doing a good enough job, you're welcome to step forward and help."
Silence echoed through the room as she turned away. She was sick of taking care of everyone. Sick of being the one to handle the tough questions. For right now, she was done. She needed to get away, to regroup and think about her next steps.
Living in such a large family hadn't prepared her to handle a confrontation with nine unmarried women. At least some of her siblings had taken her side. And while Belle, Olivia, and Sadie weren’t upset with her relationship with Sawyer, they hadn’t spoken up for her either.
She just hoped they all survived long enough to get married and move on.
At the moment, it didn't seem likely.
"When you mine, the number one thing you should be thinking of is safety. Any number of things can happen if you aren't careful."
Sawyer began his explanation outside the cave. To his surprise, all of the women were there that sunny afternoon to learn the basics of how to find gold. All except Banshee. But when he'd asked after her whereabouts, the women looked everywhere but him, and someone mentioned that she was busy with a household chore.
A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1) Page 7
