The Blushing Bride. Judith Stacy
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Jason raked his hands through his hair and stared at the still open door. He wanted to go after her. He wanted her back. He wanted to hold her, and smell her, and kiss her, and…
And what? Jason grumbled another curse into the quiet office. He knew what he wanted to do. His body had already made it perfectly clear.
The office door opened wider and Ethan stepped inside. “Did you and Miss Pierce kiss and make up? Or just kiss?”
Jason cursed again and waved toward the door Amanda had just disappeared through. “That’s another reason I don’t want women up here.”
Ethan pushed the door closed and dropped into the chair in front of the desk. “Have you something against kissing all of a sudden?”
Jason glared at him. “No.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?”
“Women gussied up in city clothes, all proper and dignified, getting flustered by a simple kiss,” Jason said. “What kind of wife would that be?”
Ethan grinned. “In the case of Amanda Pierce, a pretty good one.”
Jason cursed again.
“She’s got spirit,” Ethan said. “Determination, drive. If you ask me—”
“Nobody asked you.” Jason grabbed his hat off his desk and stalked to the door. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Jason, hold up a minute.” Ethan rose from the chair. “You work harder than any man on this mountain. You ought to take some time off, go down to Beaumont for a few days.”
“I’ve got a business to run.”
Ethan touched his shoulder. “Working yourself into the ground isn’t going to make up for Pa.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Jason said. He stalked outside, slamming the door behind him.
Bad enough that he’d gone and kissed Amanda Pierce, that she’d set his body on fire and sent his mind churning. Ethan didn’t have to bring up their father as well.
Jason stood on the porch of the office looking at his logging camp, his mountain. He’d bought it with his own money. He’d designed the layout of the camp and put the crew together. He’d built it himself and he was proud of it.
Ethan had come along later with the idea for the sawmill and put up the money for the new equipment. Since then they’d worked together, planned together.
For most of their lives, wherever Jason went, Ethan was seldom far behind. Ethan was only a year younger. They were closer than most brothers. That suited Jason just fine because the rest of the family was scattered. They drifted in and out of his life with an occasional letter. Thanks to their Ma and Pa.
Jason didn’t like being reminded of their father. And he sure as hell didn’t need to be reminded of how long it had been since he’d left his mountain. Miss Amanda Pierce and her kiss had done that—with predictable results.
Jason walked off the porch. He needed to get his mind on work, and off Miss Amanda Pierce. She was leaving today, anyway. And good riddance to her. Her and her brides…her sweet smell…her kiss.
Jason hiked to the skid road that led up the mountain. To his surprise he found his crew congregated there loaded down with their axes, saws, canteens and cans of pitch. The bull whackers had two teams of sixteen oxen harnessed, ready to head up the mountain. But they were all standing around talking when they should have been working already.
“What’s going on?” Jason demanded. His first thought was that there’d been an accident, someone had gotten hurt. But the men were too noisy for anything serious to have happened.
Buck Johansen, a big round-chested man, made his way from the center of the gathering. Buck was in charge of the lumberjacks. He was the boss logger, the bull of the woods, who ran the daily operation on the mountain. It was his responsibility to decide which trees to fell, how they should fall, and where cuts for logs should be made once the trees were down. There could be only one bull of the woods, and Buck was it.
“There’s talk going around,” Buck said, stopping in front of Jason. “Talk about you getting married.”
Jason’s gaze landed squarely on Duncan in the center of the crew and knew where that piece of gossip had come from.
“I’m not getting married,” Jason barked.
“But what about that pretty little lady in your office last night?” Duncan called out. “We all saw her this morning at breakfast.”
“Get to work, all of you,” Jason said, “before I dock you a day’s pay.”
A grumble went through the men, but they turned and headed up the mountain.
Buck Johansen stayed behind. “Some of the men were wondering—”
Jason cursed. “If you can’t keep these men’s minds on work I’ll find somebody who can.”
Buck just looked at him, and Jason regretted his words. Buck was one of the best, and Jason counted himself lucky to have him on his mountain. He shouldn’t have lashed out at Buck when it was really himself he was mad at.
“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