The Blushing Bride

“Look,” Jason said, softening his stance, “I’ve got no time for this kind of problem.”

Buck nodded his understanding, then gestured toward the crew hiking up the mountain. “I know. But I’ve got these men who are wondering what’s going on around here.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Some say maybe you ought to get married,” Buck said. “Take the edge off.”

Jason bit back a retort, then looked away because he couldn’t disagree with Buck.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Jason said. “This deal I’m waiting to hear on, for one.”

“There’s been deals before.”

Jason pulled on his neck. “Keep the men working. Keep their minds on their jobs. I don’t want anybody getting hurt today.”

Buck hesitated a moment, then nodded and headed up the road behind the men.

Most days Jason would have gone up with them. Today, though, he stood where he was, looking at the towering trees, feeling the early morning sun on his face, and decided not to go up yet. He had some business to attend to in camp.

Jason hiked over to the sawmill. Work was underway on the logs that had come down from the two sections of the mountain his men were working. About half floated down river to the millpond, and the rest were dragged down the skid road by teams of oxen.

Just outside the sawmill, a conveyor belt brought logs out of the millpond with the help of the river pigs, the sure-footed loggers who leapt from log to log guiding them and breaking up jams.

Inside the sawmill a steam engine powered the band saw that cut through the massive logs. Two men rode the carriage back and forth, holding the log in place with a series of levers. Another crew of men stacked the cut lumber and prepared it for shipment down the mountain.

Ethan was busy overseeing the work. Jason waved to him. They walked outside, away from the relentless whine of the saw.

“Talk to Shady before he heads down to Beaumont today,” Jason said. “Be sure he checks the mail while he’s there.”

“Shady knows we’re looking for that packet from San Bernardino,” Ethan said. “He won’t head home until he’s checked on it.”

“Remind him, just the same.”

“Don’t know if I can.”

Jason’s brows drew together. “He’s left already?”

“Does that bother you?” Ethan grinned. “Maybe you’re sorry to see Miss Pierce leave after all.”

“You see? This is what I’m talking about.” Jason threw out both hands. “A woman—one single woman—shows up in camp and the whole place is thrown into an uproar.”

“Seems like you’re the one in an uproar,” Ethan said. “Everybody else is doing fine.”

Jason grumbled under his breath and stalked away.

There was nothing like a brisk walk to take the edge off of one’s emotions, Amanda decided as she made her way toward town. Particularly a walk over a road as rough as this one, where a lady might easily fall on her bustle and embarrass herself in front of anyone and everyone passing by.

Amanda stopped and caught her breath. Which was worse? Being embarrassed by total strangers, or being embarrassed by the two Kruger brothers?

One of whom she’d kissed. Hard. On the mouth. With her lips opened.

Amanda’s cheeks flamed again, churning up her emotions once more. At this rate she’d have to hike all the way to Beaumont to burn off the sting of that memory. Such wanton behavior. What had possessed her to do such a thing?

Jason Kruger. Amanda was tempted to curse aloud. The words burned her tongue. Jason had caused her to act in such an unladylike fashion.

He was no gentleman, she decided. A gentleman didn’t have big hulking muscles. A rock-hard chest. A hot mouth. A gentleman didn’t lock a lady in his arms and pull their bodies together so that they touched. He didn’t allow a lady to feel his thighs, his belly, his—

Amanda gasped aloud, and plastered her fingers to her lips. She glanced around quickly. A man she didn’t recognize sauntered toward the animal pens on the other side of camp.

Had he seen her? Did he suspect what she’d been thinking? Not to mention what she’d been doing.

Amanda hiked up her skirt and hurried toward town.

She was short-winded by the time she reached Meg’s house and went inside. One of the ways Meg made money to feed herself and Todd was by doing mending for the loggers. She was hard at work sewing on missing buttons, closing ripped seams and patching holes when Amanda sat down on the settee.

“Has Shady come by?” Amanda asked.

Meg lowered the worn shirt. “Does this mean Jason turned you down again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Even after you explained about your brides?”

Even after she’d kissed him.

Amanda shifted on the settee, anxious to change the subject. “If you won’t let me pay you for a night’s lodging, the least I can do is help with your mending.”

“Don’t be silly,” Meg insisted. “I was glad to have you here. You can’t imagine how lonely this mountain gets without another woman to talk to.”

They spent the next several hours working their way to the bottom of the mending basket. Meg talked nonstop, and Amanda realized that she was indeed lonely for female conversation. Her heart sank a little. Another reason she was sorry to leave with her mission unfulfilled.

“Gracious, it’s late.” Amanda looked out the window and saw that the sun was high overhead now. “I can’t imagine where Shady is.”

“Shady operates on a timetable of his own,” Meg said.

“Maybe I should look for him.” She didn’t want to wait until it was too late to go down the mountain and risk not finding a hotel room in Beaumont.

“The crews will be down from the mountain soon to eat,” Meg said. “The smell of the food will draw Shady out, if nothing else.”

“I think I’ll go look for him,” Amanda said. She pinned her hat in place, and headed out the door.

Though she tried to resist, her gaze turned to Jason’s office just down the road. A strange quivering sensation passed through Amanda. Her lips twitched suddenly at the memory of the kiss they’d shared. Why couldn’t she forget?

Amanda turned quickly and walked the other way.

By the time she reached the barber shop in town, Amanda had decided it was simply this place that made her act so wanton in Jason’s office. The isolation. The wild, rugged mountain. The lack of anything resembling the civility of the city.

After all, what else could it be?