A Bride in the Bargain Part 22

Ronny said no more, just worked his jaw back and forth to be sure all was intact. A goodly portion of the crew had caught up and acted as if nothing at all had happened. They simply unpacked the wagon and pillow sack, then started pa.s.sing around the food. Whiffs of their repast unfurled and blended with the smell of fresh air and wood shavings.

"Are you all right?" Joe's voice was low and very close to her ear.

She glanced up over her shoulder, then ran a hand over her braid and the mess of tendrils that had escaped it. "I overslept. I'm so sorry."

"I'm just glad you're all right."

"It won't happen again."

He hooked some hair behind her ear. "No harm done."

She didn't know if it was the touch or the tenor of his voice, but a rush of b.u.mps skittered up her arms. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart."

Her breath caught. He saw me? In my bedroom?

She bit her lower lip. "You'd better get something before it's gone."

He tapped her on the chin. "Oh, I plan to, Miss Ivey. I definitely plan to."

Clasping her hands in front of her, she pretended not to understand his implication. But she did understand. And the antic.i.p.ation that sprung up within her terrified her more than his words.

He's pledged to another, she told herself. So long as he stayed that way, she should be safe.

Joe helped himself, then again took up his place behind her. He bit into a potato pancake wrapped around a boiled egg. "Mmmmm. You want some?"

She shook her head.

"Go on. I'd wager you haven't had a thing to eat yet."

Her stomach chose that moment to growl.

Grinning, he brought the rolled pancake within inches of her mouth. But he didn't offer her the end that hadn't been bitten. He offered her the end he'd eaten from. She hesitated. He waved it under her nose. Holding his hand still with hers, she took a bite. He gave her a hooded look, then popped what was left in his mouth.

The rest of the men had settled in a circle on the sawdust-covered ground. Several tawny-striped chipmunks rushed out from the brush and gathered at their feet, darting from one booted foot to another.

Anna backed up and b.u.mped into Joe's solid ma.s.s. "Won't they bite?"

"No, those are our pet chipmunks. They come every day. They're particularly fond of Thirsty. Watch."

She looked Thirsty's way just as one of the furry creatures ran up his back, onto his arm, and helped itself to the boiled egg he held in his hand. The seasoned lumberjack lowered the critter to the ground.

Sitting back on its haunches, the chipmunk finished the egg, wiped its mouth with its tail, then licked its tail clean. Never had she seen such a tender expression on Thirsty's face.

She wondered suddenly if he had family or if he was alone in the world. Just like her.

"How did Thirsty get his nickname?" she asked.

Red threw Joe a tomato she'd not had time to slice. He caught it, then took a bite as if it were an apple. Dark red juice dribbled out of the tomato. Placing his lips against it, he caught the juices with his mouth, closed his eyes, and sucked, his cheeks inverting.

Inside, her stomach felt like a ball held long underwater that finally shot up to the surface. She placed a hand against her waist but could not suppress the buoyant commotion.

"Several winters ago," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "we ran short of grub. So I sent Gibbs and Fish to town to buy us some supplies. When they returned we were near starving."

She took a calming breath. "What does that have to do with Thirsty?"

"Well, when we went to unpack the goods, we found several cases of whiskey and only two loaves of bread. We all stared in shock until Thirsty snorted and said, 'Now what're we going to do with all that bread?' "

She blinked. "You're teasing me."

"I'm not." His eyes shone with amus.e.m.e.nt. They were dark green today, like the leaves in the forest.

"No dessert, Miss Ivey?" Ronny asked, then leapt out of Thirsty's reach.

She moved away from Joe and to the men's circle. "I'll make some extra tonight. I promise."

The men began to clean up, but she shooed them away. "I'll take care of this."

The chipmunks receded back into the forest, and all the men but Ronny returned to their work. The boy refused to leave the cleaning to her, insisting on helping her. Acquiescing, she stacked two bowls in the wagon and chanced to look up.

Joe had just stepped onto his springboard, which he'd anch.o.r.ed only a few feet above the ground. He drove his ax deep into the trunk above him, grabbed tightly to the ax handle with one hand, and hung suspended from it while pulling the springboard free and inserting it into the notch above him.

The muscles in his arm bunched. Once the board was firmly in place, he put both hands on the ax handle and hauled himself up, swinging aboard the plank with ease.

He repeated the action over and over on his way up to the place he and Red had been sawing before. Arms, shoulders, back, and legs all stretched and flexed beneath his s.h.i.+rt.

When he reached his final position, he looked down at her, winked, then leaned a shoulder against the tree and waited for Red-who stood on one board while inserting another above him, then pulled himself up that way. Impressive, but not anywhere near as stirring as what Joe had done. And the impossible man knew it.

Ronny stepped up next to her. "He can jump farther, spit straighter, kick higher, run faster, and shout louder than anybody I ever saw." His tone held some of the awe she was feeling.

Seeing Joe out here today was much different than when it had been just the two of them on Sunday. Then, he'd been tinkering. Today he was in his element. The vastness of the forests he invaded, the forces of nature he had to combat and control, the sheer size of the trees he brought down, all helped define the man.

And if challenged, she had no doubt that he'd channel that strength and resolve with single-minded ferocity until he'd proven himself and achieved his goal. The thought gave her pause.

Red reached his position. Joe jumped into the air and did an about-face on the springboard, then sprinkled oil on the saw. The two men settled into a crouch and began to work the blade back and forth.

"Do you see that stake out there, sort of to the left?" Ronny asked, pointing.

She scanned the hill.

"Waaaaaaaaay down there," he said.

Squinting, she put her hand over her eyes. "Yes! Yes, I see it."

"Joe put it there. He bet Red that when the tree comes down, the upper end of the trunk will fall on the stake and drive it straight into the ground."

She looked at Ronny with shock. "How could he possibly know that?"

"Our lives depend on him being accurate, Miss Ivey. A tree that twists and slides backward off its stump has made many a wife into a widow." He grinned. "Still, hitting a stake that far out is gonna be tough."

She turned her attention back to Joe. They'd stopped their sawing while Red oiled the saw. Joe slipped his suspenders from his shoulders and peeled off his s.h.i.+rt, tossing it to the ground. He wore no unders.h.i.+rt. Snapping the suspenders back in place, he nodded at Red, his golden torso s.h.i.+ning with sweat.

"Why are they so high up on the tree?" she asked. "Why don't they stay on the ground to chop it down? Wouldn't that be safer?"

"Well, for one thing, it's a whole lot thicker down at the base. That's also where all the pitch settles."

"What's pitch?"

Ronny whipped his head around, his expression horrified. "What's pitch?" He let out a snort. "I thought even city girls knew what pitch was."

Joe flipped his ax backwards and hammered a wedge into the cut of the tree. Wiping his forehead, he took up the saw and the men resumed their cutting.

"Pitch is the sticky stuff inside the tree that snags the saws," Ronny said.

"Sap, you mean?"

"Not exactly, but kind of like that."

Rapid popping sounds, like corks shooting out of a hundred champagne bottles, came from the unsawed part of the redwood.

"Here she goes," Ronny whispered, pulling her back.

For the first time, Anna realized the havoc the gargantuan tree could wreak if it fell anywhere other than the direction Joe was aiming for. Terror gripped her, squeezing her breath. The top of the redwood quivered and swayed.

"Joe needs to get down!" she exclaimed. "He needs to get away!"

But he and Red were already jumping.

"Timber-r-r-r-r-r!" Joe bellowed, landing on the ground with a roll and a run.

A piercing, cracking noise reverberated through the glen. The tree leaned to the east, leaned some more, and then it was falling, cras.h.i.+ng to the ground with a roar rivaling any sound she'd ever heard. The earth shook. The bowls in her wagon rattled. She grabbed Ronny for support.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, masking the sunlight that pierced into the newly forged opening. And then all was still. The men. The animals. The very earth. As if in respect for the death of one of the forest's royalty.

A bloodcurdling shout rent the air.

Anna gasped. "Someone's hurt!"

Ronny grabbed her arm, stopping her.

She whirled around, slapping at his hand. "Let me go! Let me go! It was Joe! I know it was!"

"Miss Ivey. Miss Ivey!" Ronny bracketed her arms, giving her a gentle shake. "You can't run over there. Not unless you want everybody to know you're in love with him."

She stilled. "What?"

"If you make a big fuss, everybody will know you're in love with him."

"In love with him?"

"Well, sure. Besides, he's not hurt. He hit the stake, that's all. See?"

She glanced down the hill. Sure enough, the stake had disappeared beneath the tree's corpse. "What makes you think I'm in love with him, Ronny?"

He smiled, the action lighting up his entire face. "I got me a sister. You're just like her, too. She didn't want anyone to know about her feelings toward the fellow she liked, either. So don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

Something well beyond her shoulder drew his attention. She turned. Joe stomped out of the brush, dirt streaking his chest. He locked eyes with Red, then held his fists in the air, threw back his head and let out another warriorlike scream.

Sinews and veins tried to burst free of his skin. A golden patch of hair curled at the pit of each arm. His ma.s.sive chest jutted out above his solid, rippling waist while legs and knees locked in an unyielding stance.

Her lips parted. Cheers from the other men filled the glade and they ran to congratulate him.

"Pardon me, Miss Ivey." Ronny raced down the hill, reaching Joe and Red in time for a round of back-slapping that would have felled lesser men.

Turning her back on the scene, Anna picked up the wagon's handle and headed to the house. She knew without having to look too deep that Ronny was right. She was in love with Joe Denton.

She didn't know how it had happened, but she did know nothing could ever come of it. And he must never find out. Ronny would keep her secret. She had no doubt about that.

The question was, could she keep it or would she do something to inadvertently give it away? The best thing-the only thing-was to stay away from him. Not only in the evenings, but in her thoughts as well.

She determinedly tried to wipe the image of Joe's victory stance from her mind. Her efforts were doomed to failure.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Joe opened his eyes and smiled. Sunday. He'd have Anna all to himself for the entire day. First, he'd shave in the kitchen; then he'd take her fis.h.i.+ng.

Leaping off the cot, he pulled on his trousers, then made his way to the house. He'd placed all his shaving equipment by the washstand after she'd gone to bed last night. As fastidious as she was, though, he was certain she'd notice it this morning.

He opened the backdoor, then stopped short.

Anna was wearing a new dress made out of the blue gingham. She was busy at the stove and hadn't heard him come in.

He could only see the back of her, but could tell the gown was all one piece. Snug at the top. Nipped in at the waist. Flared out at the skirt.

The sleeves were long and form-fitting, but not so tight she couldn't move with ease. She'd made cuffs out of the maroon fabric.

She laid some bacon in the skillet, jumping when the grease popped. Her ap.r.o.n's bow bounced against her back end.

Deciding to enjoy the view, he leaned on the doorframe, crossed one ankle over the other and watched. After a minute or so, she turned around.