Читать книгу White Water Passion - Dawn Luedecke - Страница 10

Chapter 3

Beth peeked into the large, mud-covered railcar and panic rose, threatening to choke her. She curled her nose and tamped back the urge to flee. The place was a pigpen. The large men dotting the inside didn’t seem aware of the filth surrounding them. She thought about jumping off the platform and running for the safety of her home, but what good would that do? She was already committed. Was she really going to do this? If she wanted to pull it off, she would need to force her mind away from the muddy shoes of the men in the car and the grime threatening to soil her clothes.

Pull up your trousers and be a riverman, Beth. You can’t hide away for the rest of your life.

She searched the car for Simon, but he wasn’t there. Thank God. He’d left her behind this morning, but she wasn’t going to let him win, so she’d come alone. Beth hopped into the car and picked her way through the men to find a spot in the corner.

She’d never betray her brother to the haughty men of Missoula the way she’d threatened, but he didn’t need to know that. He would protect her with his life, and she’d do the same for him. That’s why she’d enlisted his help in the first place. To shield her when she needed protection, but let her have free rein of the camp. She’d repay him by finding the traitor. Now, if only he could get over the fact that she was just a woman.

A movement outside the large door caught her attention and she watched as Simon boarded the car. She pulled her hat low and ducked her head to shield her face. Garrett was noticeably absent. Although her world tilted to odd angles whenever he was around, his behavior last night—and slighting her each time they’d met throughout the years—couldn’t be forgotten. But the thought of him gone from the lumber camp this year made her heart sink to her stomach. What she wouldn’t give to spend more time with Garrett Jones.

There were several cars attached to the train that would take the men and Beth to the main camp. Simon had warned her to expect the next few months to be filled with crowded bunkhouses and water closets only the bravest of men would use. Really, he was trying to scare her from going, and it had somewhat worked. She wasn’t happy about a community bed or roughage for a toilet, but with each breath she regained her excitement over the experience as a whole.

The boxcar rattled and propelled into motion, gradually picking up speed as more men jumped onto the car, including Garrett. Now nothing could squelch her mood, but she needed to act like a man. Behave like everyone else in the car. She glanced around to take stock of the filthy men. How they sat, their expressions. She would do this.

Beth clenched her teeth as she realized her brother stared straight at her. She tried not to flinch when he scowled and stood to pick his way through the crowded floor.

“I ought to toss you off right now. Let you roll down the tracks and back home.” He plopped down next to her. “Why aren’t you still passed out in bed after the booze you drank last night?”

“So that was your plan? I knew you were up to something. You won’t send me home because I’ll keep coming back, and I didn’t drink much. I tossed it. Honestly, Simon, I would think getting me drunk to get your way was beneath you.”

Simon’s upper lip twitched as Garrett made his way to the only space available in the car…directly in front of her. She against one side of the L-shaped wall, and he sitting sideways against the other. She stretched out her feet as far as she could and gave Garrett almost no room in which to set down his perfectly muscled backside. The train jarred, sending him tumbling down onto her spiked boot.

“Ouch!” she squealed, pulled her legs back to rub her shins, and then winced when Simon’s sharp elbow slammed into her ribs.

“Watch yourself, Brent,” her brother scolded loudly enough for only her to hear.

Garrett stared through hazel eyes. Eyes so vexed and clouded they reminded her of an angry fall day. No emotion showed on his face, save for the fierceness of his gaze. She liked reading people, but he read like a bad Gothic novel. Personally, she preferred dime novels.

They were separated by no more than her legs, but heat from his body toasted even her back as it pressed against the cold steel of the wall. How could one man emanate warmth so intense that it scorched the entire boxcar?

She leaned over to Simon. “Is it hot in here?”

He shot her a confused glare and shook his head.

Beth drew her knees up to her chest and squeezed them against her body to gain distance from Garrett—the source of the offending heat. He turned his eyes away from her. Thank the Lord above! One more second of his intense, disapproving gaze and she’d catch fire. He greeted Simon, and then leaned his head against the wall.

She tugged her large brimmed cowboy hat down low, settled deeper into the wall behind her, and pretended to sleep. The smoky musk of Garrett’s Eau de Cologne drifted past her nose and brought to mind the last ball she’d attended when a large, stuffed puffin of a man asked her to dance and spent the rest of the ensemble flaunting his superiority. Garrett was different. He was a logger. One bottle of the blend was at least three months’ pay for a man of his profession. He needed to make up his mind already. Was he a stuffy blowhard, or an easy-to-love logger?

Hours ticked by in the uncomfortable position, and she couldn’t help but fidget. With each movement, Garrett threw her a sour look. He’d done that a lot since meeting her outside the bar. Each time it sent sorrow to her soul, but that didn’t matter. You’re not here for romance, Beth. Finding love was for another time in her life. This moment, this season, was for her brother. As long as she kept that in mind, she would get through the summer just fine.

The hard, wooden train floor had to be a torture device from a dark castle the way it ground into her bottom. She squirmed again and stretched her leg to ease the pain. The spikes on her boots hit Garrett’s thigh and she winced.

Garrett flinched, but kept his gaze somewhere on the forward wall of the railcar. The muscles in his jaw flexed, but no other emotion showed. The man was as hard as the floor making her backside ache. She supposed he had to be in his profession.

“Sorry,” she said, but he scowled. Perhaps this spring was going to be harder than she expected.

* * * *

Garrett tensed when the spikes dug into his leg. Anger rose fast and furious, and he turned a hard stare to Simon’s cousin. He couldn’t take much more of the kid. Not with the mixture of emotions kicking him in the gut like a bad-tempered mule. There was something about the kid that wasn’t quite right. Something that made him feel empty inside—a reminder that he lacked an important ingredient in his life.

The boy shielded his face with that ridiculous hat he wore.

Leaning on one hand, he crouched to stand as the train lurched to slow while it crested a steep hill. Knocked off balance, he fell on top of Simon’s cousin. He reached out in reflex to stop his descent, but instead of a bony teenage chest firm beneath his fingers, he felt the softness of two perfectly rounded breasts. Breasts bound by some sort of cloth.

He moved his hands to the floor so he could balance his weight on them, as the boy stared wide-eyed with shock. Garrett fought to clear his head of the thoughts running rampant through his mind.

His mood changed fast. He was still mad, but for a completely different reason. He now knew why his gut dropped whenever this so-called boy was in sight, and why he looked so familiar. His breath hitched at how close he’d been to Elizabeth. The woman who on many occasions had smiled at him from across the platform after the end of a hard logging season, and brightened his sometimes dreary day. The woman who haunted his dreams and desires with her dark hair like silk, and a face like a china doll. The woman who made him lose all semblance of thought whenever she was near—a feeling he hated. He could throw himself between logs slamming together at a white-water logjam, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak to the enchanting woman who was now dressed as a man, sitting in a mud-caked railcar, bound for the deep belly of an Alpine forest. Now he had no choice but to speak to her. He could no longer duck his way out of the distress of conversation to a woman he could never have.

Beth took a deep breath, and shook her head. Her lips mere inches from his own, and the feel of her breasts in his hands still tingling down his palms. He scrambled to slide off Beth and back to his seat.

Garrett snapped his attention to Simon, who slid his finger over his mouth, indicating he should keep quiet. Garrett wanted to demand an explanation and then make the conductor stop and send her packing. That’s what he should do.

Beth hugged her arms around her torso. Something primal tugged deep within his belly. He’d crossed the line with her physically, made her uneasy, albeit accidentally. Still, he never wanted to make Beth uncomfortable around him. But what in Hades name was she doing on his train?

“Later.” Simon leaned over and whispered the warning, and then glanced around at the men in the car.

Now that Garrett looked closer, her soft beauty was unmistakable. How did she plan to pull off this scheme when even the dirt on her boots looked feminine and somehow charming?

If he hadn’t been distracted by the fact that he was emotionally affected by a boy, he may have realized who she was. Now, he just felt like a fool for falling for her ruse.

The train slowed even more.

How the hell was she going to get through this alive? How would he deal with her around when he couldn’t get his tongue to form the words in his mind whenever she stared at him through her long black eyelashes? He couldn’t allow it. For his sake, and hers.

The train slowed and the men within jerked when the railcars slammed against each other. Loggers began to jump off with joyful whoops that echoed through the trees. As the last man exited, Simon turned to Garrett.

“Why did you bring her here?” Garrett scowled to Simon, ignoring the warm emotional tug of the woman slowly making her way behind her brother. He’d die if anything happened to her, and here, in the Montana wild, chances were something bad would transpire. He thought the drive dangerous enough when she was male. Heaven knows what would happen now.

“She said she wants to have an adventure,” Simon answered. “She blackmailed me, and then snuck aboard when I tried to leave her behind. You can send her home.”

“Excuse me!” Beth exclaimed and peered over Simon’s shoulder. “I am a big girl, capable of taking care of myself. I may need a little watching over, but I’m no child. Send me home and I’ll spill everything to the mayor. Better yet, I’ll tell the gossiping Goodall sisters.”

He straightened his spine and glared, but his shoulders dropped. “Nothing I’ve said has changed your mind. Garrett’s the riverman foreman, and he’s going to say the same thing I did. Go home, Elizabeth.”

“No.”

The woman was impossible. Exactly how he’d imagined her to be all those times he’d studied her on the platform. Her air of refined control enough to convince one of social graces, but on closer look mischief always flickered in her crystal blue eyes. Challenging one to take control of her fiery ways. A challenge he’d always wanted to take on. But he was a man, leader of the Devil May Cares for hell’s sake, and he’d let the fear of a small woman control him long enough. No more.

Garrett too glared at Elizabeth. “Perhaps a wallop would set you to rights.”

“You can’t do that. You’re not my brother.”

Thank God! Not only did she render him dim witted when near, but he didn’t need another girl full of machinations to rescue in town. He had no sister to watch over, and enough troubles with his housekeeper’s daughter. The woman he would marry would be docile and sweet tempered—the perfect ornament for his parlor. The woman he agreed to let his parents choose for him in exchange for one last logging season. Miserable in love, but comfortable in life.

Elizabeth needed to be home in Missoula. Safe. If only she were one of the sweet, docile women his father admired so much. If only Simon hadn’t ruined all hope for he and Beth. He couldn’t fault his friend completely. Simon was simply doing what men of his age and status do best. Women and booze. That didn’t stop his father’s judgment, though. There was no way in hell his father would reconsider Elizabeth Sanders suitable for the wife of a Jones, was there?

Garrett stalked past Simon to Beth. Her eyelashes fluttered at the abrupt movement, so he concentrated on her mouth in order to get the authoritative words to move from his brain, to tongue. He softened his voice, but ensured the tone reflected the importance. “You need a strong hand.”

She repeated her words in a breathless plea. “You’re not my brother, or my father.”

“No, ma’am, but I know you almost as well. I’ve heard about your antics every spring for the last five years. I know for a fact you need a good set down.”

“Are you going to let him talk to me like this, Simon?” A slight panic shook her voice.

Simon let out a huff of laughter. “Yes, I am, sis. Because he’s right. You do need a wallop. You’re spoiled, and God knows I have never told you no before now. If Garrett wants to be the one to put you in line, then he has my permission.”

“You’re both mad.”

“That’s why they hire us,” Garrett said to the defiant woman. He studied her perfect lips, the bottom one wet where she’d released it from between her teeth. “We don’t call ourselves the Devil May Care boys for nothing.”

Garrett stilled as she shifted, drawing ever-so-slightly closer to him.

Should she stay here in camp, he could have her for one season. Be near her. For just one season he could collect a lifetime of memories to keep him happy once they parted. There were women in camp. Why couldn’t she be one of them? She bit her lip again, and he ached to reach out and touch the silky softness of her mouth with his.

Selfish as it was, he couldn’t send her away.

“If this is going to happen, and you stay on, I can’t allow you to run rampant, Lizbe. It’s too dangerous.” He had to find a way to show her who was boss. A way that wouldn’t cause her to despise him for the rest of her life. He forced back the resigned sigh deep within his chest. This is going to be an exceptionally long spring.

Beth’s eyes flashed with defiance. “You can’t call me Lizbe. That’s my brother’s nickname for me.”

“I know. As I said before, I know everything about you.”

Beth trembled so Garrett softened a bit and stopped herding her to the corner. Her lips firmed and relaxed—an indication of the mixed emotions swelling inside her. She didn’t even know how well he could read her mood simply by watching her mouth.

Simon stepped in front of the door, a barrier from the men outside. Catching the movement, Garrett wedged Beth farther into the corner. His fears resurfaced the closer he drew to her warmth. He wanted nothing more than to touch her. Sweep her up into his arms and make her his forever. What he needed to do was leap from the car, disappear in his work, and let her stay in camp with her brother. He scowled at Simon. “You lied to me.”

“I know, but I need your help,” Simon pleaded.

Garrett gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll find her a safe place to work. The bateau, maybe? If I take a position with her in the boat, I can watch over her. I’d say send her to work with the cook, but you know how Aunt June gossips. She might expose her as a woman, and I’m afraid if the men discover her dressed this way, her reputation would be ruined.”

Simon nodded. “I might never get her married off if any men found out she was traipsing around dressed like that. Gossip would spread like a brushfire the moment they sent letters home. If she trains hard, she could handle the bateau. She may be a conniving bulldozer, but she’s not some frail ninny.”

“You talk as if I’m not standing right here,” Beth snapped, but he and Simon ignored her.

Garrett tried not to scoff. When had Simon ever cared about his sister’s reputation? If he had, he’d have taken care in his own life. Acted like Garrett instead of a two-bit lumberjack.

“She’ll be safe in the bateau,” Simon continued. “The cook takes a boat down the river with the drive. This is only one step away from the cook raft. If she’s in the bateau, she’s away from harm and people, and my reputation…and neck…are safe.” The lines on his face softened. “I suppose if we can’t get her to go home, that’s the best we could do. Just take care. She’s difficult to control.”

Beth gave another sound, irritated at being left out of the conversation.

Garrett faced Simon once more. “The bateau it is.” Life on the river was not going to be easy, but at least he’d be there to watch over her. Protect her from harm.

“What’s a bateau? Is that the cook boat, or a riverman one? I forget.” Beth crossed her arms over her chest. The small movement pulled her shirt taut. Garrett tried not to stare. The damned bands did nothing to hide the roundness of her breasts.

He couldn’t answer, but simply stared at the sinfully breathtaking sight before him. One that made his heart race, and stomach feel empty. He shouldn’t be watching the display, but he couldn’t help it.

“What’s a bateau?”

The words snapped his attention back to the moment. “The only way you are going down the river.”

Garrett shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her chest stopped rising with her breath, and the vein at the base of her neck throbbed as he drew close enough to smell the honeysuckle scent of her hair. “You need to wear this. Even with the alterations, you are too obviously a woman. Stay beside or behind me at all times and do not talk to anyone.” Garrett turned to Simon. “One river ride, and then she’s gone.”

“First drive and she’s gone,” Simon agreed.

“First drive?” Beth questioned.

“The first trip down the river. You take it, and then we ship you home.” Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. The gleam in her eye belied her ready acceptance. He didn’t believe her for a minute.

He turned and jumped from the railcar, holding out his hand to help her down while searching the surrounding area to ensure no one saw his slight in helping this boy down. Her face glowed with victory, and he wanted to turn her around and toss her back on the railcar.

He clenched his teeth, his only release for the anger building in his gut.

“Emotion is a sign of weakness. One must always be on guard.” He repeated the lesson his mother frequently chided him with when he was a child, not for Beth’s sake, but for his own.

She glanced back and frowned. “I was always led to believe that emotion was a spigot for the soul. I’d rather have a clean soul than a surly disposition.”

With a curt nod of acquiesce at her retort, he turned to escort her to the center of camp. He must not let her sharp tongue or enchanting charm affect him so. He already doubted all of the decisions he’d made since she entered his life.