Читать книгу The Blushing Bride - Judith Stacy - Страница 11

The gray dawn clung to the treetops as Amanda left Meg McGee’s house carrying her satchel and her hopes for the future, in search of Jason Kruger.

It didn’t seem quite fair that her dreams hinged on that particular man. Amanda had run the Becoming Brides Matrimonial Service for a little more than a year and she had plans for her business, for herself.

And for her prospective brides. They’d come to her with hopes and dreams of their own. A family, a husband, children, a home. All were things she could provide, with the right contacts.

Amanda picked her way along the rutted road. No, being dependent on the whim of Jason Kruger for her success and the happiness of her brides was not desirable at all. But at the moment, she had no choice.

What Amanda hadn’t seen last night when she arrived in the dark took her by surprise as she made her way down the road. The logging camp and town had been quite literally carved out of the mountain. A wall of thick trees towering two hundred feet in the air surrounded a large clearing. Inside lay the town, which was behind Amanda as she headed west, and in front of her was the logging camp. Off to her right was the sawmill and millpond.

The bone-rattling road that had brought her up from Beaumont last night separated the camp from the town, then continued on, winding its way up the mountain. The bunkhouse, storehouse and cookhouse lay ahead of her in the heart of the camp. A few smaller buildings were scattered between them, including barns and animal pens where horses and oxen stood, waiting to start their day of toil.

Across the road was Jason Kruger’s office. A house sat behind it; she guessed it belonged to the Kruger brothers. Absently, Amanda wondered what it looked like inside. Probably not one doily or lace cloth in the place.

There was wood everywhere. Amanda had never seen so much wood. Wooden houses, wooden shingles, wooden furniture. Stumps, slivers and shavings of wood, broken boards, sawdust. The air smelled of trees, sweet sawdust and sap.

The camp had the feel of hasty construction about it, as if it had been thrown together out of necessity in a rush to get on to more important matters.

No one was out at this hour. Meg had told Amanda she would find the men in the cookhouse before heading up the mountain for the day. Jason would be there, too.

A rumble of voices drew Amanda to the large building Meg had described. Delicious scents drifted on the air. Amanda paused outside the door, straightened her skirt and touched her hand to her hat. While the other women she’d met in camp dressed more simply, Amanda was here to conduct business, and it was important that her appearance reflect that.

She started inside, then stopped. She wasn’t all that anxious to meet Jason Kruger again.

Or was she?

He’d been on her mind all morning, even before Meg had suggested she talk with him again. She remembered last night and how irritating he’d been. How demanding. How arrogant.

How she’d called him those terrible names.

Amanda wasn’t all that experienced at business, but it probably wasn’t good to call your prospective customer thoughtless, inconsiderate and rude, and still expect him to do business with you. Even if he deserved to be called all those names.

As Jason Kruger did.

There was nothing she could do but continue on. Talk to Jason, present her plan, and hope for the best. Though he’d probably be less than happy to see her again, Amanda consoled herself with the thought that the worst he could do was say no. He certainly wouldn’t toss her over his shoulder, lash her to the wagon, and send the team careening down his mountain, back to Beaumont.

Amanda shifted her satchel from one hand to the other. Her future lay inside this cookhouse, in the hands of Jason Kruger. She drew in a deep breath and walked inside.

Rows of long tables holding platters of food filled the room. Men crowded the benches eating from tin plates, drinking steaming coffee from tin cups. The cook, a round-bellied man in a soiled apron, stood in the corner. The men kept their heads down, eating and talking while young boys, the cook’s helpers, scurried down the aisles refilling cups, bringing more platters of food.

Amanda raised on tiptoes looking over the sea of bobbing heads. There must have been fifty men here and she wasn’t sure how she’d find Jason among them.

A man seated at the table nearest Amanda noticed her. He did a double take, elbowed the man beside him, and pointed.

That man looked, then the one seated beside him looked, until the whole table was staring. Their hands stilled halfway to their mouths.

The table beside those men noticed Amanda, then the next table, and the next.

Silence crossed the cookhouse like ripples in a pond. No metal forks clicked against tin plates. No coffee slurped from cups. The cook’s helpers stopped between the tables. The room froze in reverent silence.

Fifty faces turned to Amanda. Fifty pairs of eyes widened. Fifty jaws sagged.

The thought that she was glad she’d dressed for the moment skittered through Amanda’s head.

Across the room, in the far corner, one man rose from the table. Tall. Wide chest. Straight shoulders.

Thoughtless, inconsiderate, rude.

Handsome.

Jason Kruger.

Amanda’s heart sped up urging her to run. Toward him, or away from him? She wasn’t sure.

Jason charged across the room frowning and scowling even more than last night. For an instant Amanda wondered if she’d been wrong. Might he do something worse than simply say no? Being lashed to a wagon careening down the mountain didn’t seem outside of the realm of possibility at the moment.

Jason stopped in front of her, towering over her, crowding her. His glare gave off heat. It ensnared Amanda, refusing to let her back away.

She gazed up at his hard, angry face. “Good morning, Mr. Kruger.”

“What the hell are you—”

Jason stopped and glanced back at the men sitting like fifty statues at the tables. He lowered his voice.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I have a business proposition to discuss with you, Mr. Kruger.”

He nodded toward the door. “Get outside.”

Amanda’s spine stiffened and her chin went up. “Mr. Kruger, I will not be ordered about like a servant.”

Jason pressed his lips together, holding in his simmering anger. “Miss Pierce, would you kindly step outside? Before you get yourself mauled by fifty men?”

Amanda peeked around Jason at the men staring at her. “They seem harmless to me.”

“Some of these men haven’t laid eyes on a woman like you in months.”

“A woman like me?” Amanda asked. “And what sort of woman would that be?”

Jason faltered. His angry expression collapsed as his gaze raked her from head to toe. His lips twitched as if he wanted to spit out a mouthful of words, but he held them in.

“Would you just go outside?” Jason glared down at her. “Please?”

The morning sunlight crept over the treetops as Amanda stepped out of the cookhouse. Before she could pause, Jason clamped onto her elbow and propelled her across the road. The chatter inside the cookhouse started up again.

Jason stared at her and tugged down on his hat brim, bringing it lower over his eyes.

“Look, Miss Pierce, I haven’t got a lot of time. I’ve got a business to run. I’m sorry you got hauled up here for nothing, but I’m not going to marry you and that’s all there is to it.”

“As it happens, Mr. Kruger, I have no desire to marry you,” Amanda said.

He looked offended now. “How’s that?”

“As you said last night, the letter I received was a mistake,” Amanda said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t work out a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“You don’t want to marry me, but you think we could work out some sort of arrangement?” Jason looked hard at her and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. His lips twitched again. “What, exactly, did you have in mind, Miss Pierce?”

“I think my services are exactly what you need, Mr. Kruger.”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “Your services?”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “Your logging camp is a long way from Beaumont and even there you’ll find few women to choose from. The proper kind of woman, if you get my meaning.”

He scratched his chin. “I think I do.”

“Life up here on the mountain must get very lonely at times. The work is hard. A certain amount of comfort in the evening would go a long way toward making life more enjoyable. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Kruger?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’d agree with that, all right.”

Amanda had rehearsed her sales pitch on the way from Meg’s house this morning hoping Jason would go along with her idea to bring brides onto his mountain. And he seemed to be quite taken with the idea, so much so that he was starting to perspire.

“Perhaps we should go into your office and get down to business?” she asked.

“Now?” His eyes widened. “Right now? You and me? In my office? Now?”

“If you’re not too busy, that is.”

“Too busy?”

Voices carried across the road as the loggers streamed out of the cookhouse. The men filed past, some tipping their hats to Amanda, some simply staring.

Amanda lifted her satchel. “Should I approach the men now while they’re assembled? I have pictures.”

“Pictures?” Jason reeled back.

“Certainly,” she said. “Or would you like to go into your office first? Send for your brother, perhaps?”

His eyes widened. “My brother?”

She gazed up at him. “Wouldn’t you like to have him involved in this with us?”

Jason looked horrified. “Miss Pierce, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Brides.”

“Brides!”

“Yes, brides.”

Gracious, was this man soft in the head? How much more plain could she say it?

“I’m the owner of the Becoming Brides Matrimonial Service, Mr. Kruger. That’s why I came here in the first place.”

He pulled off his hat and dragged his sleeve over his forehead. “That’s what this is all about? Bringing brides up here?”

“Certainly. What did you think I meant?”

“Well—” Jason ran his finger around his shirt collar. “Never mind what I thought.”

Jason yanked on his hat again. “So you’re saying you didn’t come up here thinking I was going to marry you?”

“No, not me personally,” Amanda explained. “In fact, under normal circumstances I would have disregarded your request for a Becoming Bride immediately.”

His lines in his forehead deepened. “Are you saying I’m not good enough for your brides?”

“Well, Mr. Kruger, we do have standards,” Amanda said. “But when I read how miserably alone you were, you sounded so pathetic I had to come up and investigate.”

Jason pointed his finger at her. “It wasn’t me that wrote that letter.”

“Last night you made it abundantly clear that you weren’t interested in a bride for yourself, and I do understand your rule about no women in the camp,” Amanda said. “But I couldn’t leave this morning without discussing it once more with you.”

Jason sighed impatiently. “Look, Miss Pierce, I have a business to run and I don’t have time to—”

“I have a business to run also, Mr. Kruger,” Amanda said. “The happiness of my potential brides is my business. I don’t understand why you won’t at least give my idea some consideration. It’s not like it wouldn’t benefit you as well.”

“And just how is this supposed to benefit me?” He folded his arms across his chest, challenging her.

“Several ways. First of all—”

Amanda stopped as she noticed the loggers milling around the cookhouse door staring at her in silence. Jason saw them also.

“Let’s talk inside.” Jason caught her elbow and steered her toward his office.

Inside, Amanda dropped her satchel by the door. The room seemed smaller than it had last night. Quieter. More secluded. Jason seemed taller, wider, more rugged. She suddenly became conscious of the dress she wore, how it fit snug against her breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin.

“Sit down?” Jason asked.

The blustery anger she’d seen in him moments ago was gone now. He tossed his hat aside and gestured to the chair she’d sat in last night.

She sat, and he eased himself into his chair behind his desk, leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of him.

“You were about to tell me all the reasons I needed brides on my mountain, Miss Pierce.”

His intense gaze riveted her to her chair, making it difficult to breathe. Amanda gave herself a mental shake. This was her chance. Her future—and that of her brides—depended on the outcome of this conversation.

Amanda drew herself up a little straighter in the chair.

“First of all, Mr. Kruger, there’s the stability of your crew,” she said. “Married men are more stable, therefore, you’d have less turnover among your men. It’s more difficult for a man to pick up and move if he’s got a wife and a home to take with him, so he’d be more likely to stay put.”

Except for Gerald McGee, who’d left Meg and Todd with only a goodbye letter. Amanda didn’t want Jason bringing up that example so she pushed on.

“Then there’s the safety issue,” Amanda said. “I’m sure it’s of concern to you when your men have time off. How safety conscious can they be returning from Beaumont after several days of drinking and—”

Amanda clamped her lips together. Goodness, she’d almost said the word aloud.

Jason’s eyebrows raised. “And what?”

He watched her like a cat studying a cornered mouse. Amanda clung to her dignity, refusing to let her cheeks flood with color.

“Another reason brides would—”

“Hold on a minute,” Jason said. “You were talking about safety. Days of drinking and…what?”

He was enjoying her discomfort. It showed in his eyes, plain as day. Amanda drew herself up with what she hoped was regal aplomb.

“Socializing,” she said.

“Socializing?”

Jason Kruger knew what she meant, what she’d nearly said aloud. He was toying with her for his own pleasure, and Amanda was tired of it.

“Yes, Mr. Kruger. Socializing. Mindless socializing. Days and days on end of nothing but thoughtless, incoherent, continuous socializing. Hour after hour of—”

“All right, I got it.” Jason sat forward suddenly and squirmed in his chair.

Amanda drew in a breath, calming herself, focusing her thoughts. “Next, there’s the financial matters.”

Jason rose from his chair and stalked across the room. He flung the window open wide. Amanda was glad. The room had grown awfully hot. He kept his back to her and didn’t say anything, so she continued on.

“As I understand it, you own the mountain. Married couples will need a place to live. You can lease or sell homesites to them. The town will expand, offering another opportunity to profit from your land. And, of course, all of this will create a local market for your lumber.”

He stood with his back to her for a long time, gazing out the window.

Amanda stood. “Mr. Kruger, have you heard one word I’ve said?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “Every word. And the answer is still no.”

She crossed the room and stopped behind him. “I’ve just given you several excellent reasons why brides would be of great benefit to your logging camp. I don’t understand why—”

“Then I’ll tell you why.” Jason swung around. “If I let women up here, first thing you know there will be lines at the barber shop. Men will ask to be let off early to take a bath.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“Next thing you know, they get married. Then curtains start going up in the windows. When my men ought to be resting up for the next day’s work, they’re busy fixing things up, making them look pretty.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want that to happen.”

Jason edged closer. “Then my crews aren’t concentrating on their jobs because their women are mad at them. Or because they’re anxious to get home. Either way, my men aren’t thinking about work.”

Amanda felt heat roll off of Jason. It soaked into her.

He leaned his head down. “And a year from now I’ll have babies up here because of all the socializing going on.”

Amanda’s cheeks flamed. How dare he say such a thing to her? She should have slapped his face. And she would have if she hadn’t been so hopelessly caught in the molten aura he gave off.

He came nearer. She wanted to back away—should back away. Then his mouth clamped over hers, and she wanted desperately to stay right where she was.

Jason looped his arm around her waist and pressed himself against her. Heat flamed between them. His lips moved against hers, plying, wanting, asking. He splayed his hand over her back.

A thousand explosions pierced her body. She’d never been kissed before—not like this. Never been touched as Jason touched her now. It wasn’t proper. It certainly wasn’t dignified.

But it was wonderful.

Amanda swayed against Jason. She grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling and parted her lips ever so slightly.

He slipped inside her at once, tasting her, exploring her. Luring her, tempting her until she did the same.

A groan rattled in his mouth as Amanda pressed deep, matching his movements. He pulled her tighter against him.

Amanda was lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Hopelessly lost in the decadent moment of their mouths blending together.

Until he suddenly yanked his mouth from her and looked up.

A voice intruded into the fog clouding Amanda’s mind. She turned. Ethan stood in the open doorway.