Rugged and Relentless (34 page)

Loggers typically came back for another two months in the strongest season. Snow didn’t stop the lumber business. In fact, cool, dry weather made for better conditions than hot summer. Snow facilitated moving the giant logs across short distances in areas where they hadn’t upgraded from skid roads to the new compact steam engines for hauling. Donkeys, they were called.

Late spring through early autumn, several camps closed or greatly slowed while many of their loggers went home to farms. Late fall through the start of spring, it went full-speed ahead. If a timber beast vanished in the middle of the season, it would be noted. Twyler started running across the country in January.

“Truth be told …” Fillmore’s hesitant opening nabbed Jake’s attention. “I didn’t join any outfit this past year. Heard of all the success in mining and decided to try panning for gold. I planned
to come back, but an early blizzard snowed me in. Turns out I’m a better timber beast than silt-sifter any day.”

“I’m sorry that didn’t pan out for you.” Miss Thompson’s statement elicited a round of groans from her friends. More suspiciously, it earned the sort of cleared throat sound from Lyman that a man made when stifling a chuckle.

“Cora reclaims worst pun,” Evie announced. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fillmore. It’s something of a game amongst the four of us.”

“But that one was unintentional!” her sister protested.

“I cannot believe”—Miss Lyman giggled—“you manage such an abysmal turn of phrase without any effort whatsoever.”

The lighthearted banter gave Jake time to sort through his impression of Fillmore’s answer.
Getting snowed in would explain his slighter build. He wouldn’t have the provisions or constant workload to maintain a faller’s strength
. A simple, believable reason, as so many men succumbed to the lure of gold fever.

But it’s too neat and tidy. He didn’t name the company he usually worked for, and Fillmore doesn’t seem the short-stake type. A story about a freak blizzard can’t be verified or looked into. There are too many solitary miners in too many places. It’d be the perfect cover for a man like Twyler, if he suspected someone might bother to check a false reference
.

Fact was he’d walked into the room with two suspects, thinking to eliminate at least Fillmore. Instead, he’d follow the lead on Kane and keep a closer watch on the mousy man who followed him. If anything, Jake’s list kept growing.

Evie’s store of patience shrank as the conversation wore on. Too many things ran through her mind, too much to do for her to be sitting still. It seemed a waste of time to question the men’s logging credentials when they’d all been out working for almost two weeks now. Couldn’t Creed judge their competence firsthand?

Of course he can. Really, this entire exercise is more for Braden’s
benefit than anything else
. The thought kept her from fidgeting. If being unable to get things done for a mere hour made her itch to get moving, how much worse must it be for her sister’s fiancé? Suddenly, she didn’t begrudge the time spent.
Besides
, she cautioned herself,
you’re supposed to learn as much as possible about the men you or your friends might marry
.

Except … Evie didn’t care for either Mr. Kane or Mr. Fillmore, and she rather doubted Lacey and Naomi did either. Surely Naomi’s question about the pair the other day only had to do with her curiosity over the way they worked in teams. Unease crept through as she recalled Naomi’s blush and the competitive glint in Lacey’s gaze as she asked if her cousin had “fallen.”

Perhaps I’m only halfway correct. Neither evinced an interest in Mr. Fillmore, but maybe the more forward Mr. Kane caught at least one eye
. She looked at him afresh. He did count as one of the better-looking possibilities, Evie supposed—if one ignored the sense of something sort of … oily … about the man.

“When did you two meet?” She looked from one man to the other, wondering at the bond between them. Perhaps distant cousins? They shared the same coloring, if not mannerisms.

As expected, Kane answered. “En route to Hope Falls.”

“From what I’ve seen, I assumed a long, strong friendship.” Naomi admitted the surprise Evie shared.

“We get on well, match up for a whipsaw.” Kane glanced at his companion and shrugged. “Fillmore makes for good company since he’s not a hothead or given to talking anyone’s ear off.”

Fillmore gave a shrug and seemed ready to leave it at that, but rethought and added an eloquent, “It works.”

Cora inquired as to age, finding them well-matched there, too. Both claimed twenty-eight years, twenty-nine in the fall.

Evie breathed a sigh of relief—that had been the last question the six of them planned to ask, unless the conversation led to others as a matter of course. Just in time.
The train with my dairy cows should pull in within the next hour or so
.

“I’ve one last question for you, gentlemen.” Lacey rubbed her right hand over her forehead—the old signal for “wait and listen” when one of them changed plans. It didn’t bode well. “At this point, we’d like you each to specify which two of the three of us you’d choose to direct your attentions toward, and why.”

Evie’s stomach dropped to her shoes. She entertained the brief, fanciful notion that if she stood, she’d squish it underfoot like grapes for wine.
Little wonder Lacey didn’t mention this question when we planned the interviews. She knew good and well we’d never agree. It’s an embarrassment!

From the corner of her eye, she saw Naomi shoot an alarmed look her way, as though imploring her to find a way to end this dismaying turn in conversation. But Evie could think of no method to save them from hearing the assessment of their would-be suitors, straight from the horses’ mouths. So to speak.

Lord, I know I fall short in many, many ways and one of them happens to be humility. But did Lacey have to ask for both names and reasons? I don’t want to listen to a man explain why he’d choose other women before looking my way. Especially not with others listening, and most especially not with other men within hearing distance. If I must be humbled, and being sent into a situation beyond my control is not sufficient, could it not happen at some time when Jake Creed isn’t watching?

“A man would count himself fortunate to win the hand of any lady in the room, Miss Lyman.” Kane’s slick response left Lacey shifting irritably and Evie hoping for a way to avoid this.

“You’re right, Mr. Kane. Thank you both for your patience.” The words spilled in such a hurry, Evie could only be thankful they formed coherent thoughts. “We’re glad to have you here.”

“Why don’t you answer the question, Kane?” Braden eyed the faller with undisguised hostility, and Evie belatedly realized he wondered about Kane’s evasive response. “Any lady in the room” included Cora, and despite Braden’s obstinacy in insisting he’d dissolved the engagement, he hadn’t suggested or allowed anyone
else to suggest Cora remained free to wed.

Another time, his protectiveness would gladden Evie’s heart.
But the numskull would choose now to be possessive!

“The answer I gave happened to be sincere.” The glint of battle appeared in Kane’s eye. “Since you press the issue, I would narrow my selection to Miss Lyman and Miss Thompson. Miss Lyman appeals for her femininity, and Miss Thompson for her domestic abilities. I find I prefer a woman with more conversation than Miss Higgins seems inclined toward sharing.”

Evie drew a deep breath, offended for not only herself and Naomi, but Lacey as well. No matter he’d pointed to Lacey as his first choice, Kane didn’t see beyond her penchant for bright fabrics and dainty patterns to the woman beneath. Meanwhile, he only recognized Evie herself as a cook and housekeeper, and all but called Naomi a bore.
I won’t approve of Robert Kane even if Lacey decides she’ll accept his proposal. Naomi and Cora will have to be the two who allow it. As far as I’m concerned, Hope Falls could do better with another worker less self-absorbed
.

“This sort of question does no good for any man or woman involved, but as the ladies make the decisions here, I see no alternative but to answer.” Mr. Fillmore showed the good taste to present a mild objection. “I’d select Miss Lyman, for her foresight in recognizing the lumber after the mines collapsed. It seems a good characteristic in a wife, that she look ahead and find the best in each situation. Although I agree Miss Thompson shows great creativity and skill in the kitchen, I differ from my friend. Miss Higgins, with her more demure ways, would make a more fitting companion for me. Still waters run deep, or so they say, and I like to believe it true.” With that, Mr. Fillmore sank back onto the bench, looking as though he’d exhausted himself by speaking more words in that one speech than he’d voiced during his entire stay in town.

Much better
. Evie sent him an encouraging smile. Not because he’d chosen her—he hadn’t—or even noticed anything about her
beyond her cooking—as far as Evie could see, men never did—but because Chester Fillmore’s quiet personality hid a discerning nature. He’d understood and appreciated some of her friends’ fine qualities. In particular, the well-spoken miner might make a good match for Naomi. Never mind that he, too, listed Lacey first.

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Cora signaled the end of the conversation, and Braden leaned forward to shake each of their hands in turn before Mr. Kane and Mr. Fillmore departed.

“Lacey, what were you thinking to throw that last bit in?” The words blurted from her mouth the minute Evie thought the men left hearing distance. “We never discussed anything like that!”

“If we discussed it, you wouldn’t have let me ask.” Lacey gave an unrepentant shrug. “All those details about their work history and logging make for a fine work interview, but that part interests Mr. Creed more than it pertains to us. We need to learn more about the men themselves, and which one of us they plan to ask for. With so many about, it’s difficult to guess.”

“That may be, but to put them on the spot like that smacks of poor taste.” Naomi’s eyes remained as wide as they’d been since Lacey asked, and Evie found herself wondering whether her friend had blinked in the past quarter hour. “An ambush.”

“If you catch a man off guard, you’re more apt to get an honest answer.” Creed’s observation did little to soothe her nerves. “Notice how much more polished Fillmore made his response than what Kane scraped up. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“So now the other men know what to expect, there’s little to be gained in asking.” Evie gladly followed his logic.

“Wrong. Those two won’t warn anyone.” Braden shook his head. “They’re competitors and won’t hand out an advantage.”

“From now on, we call them in singly.” Creed looked out the window, sunlight illuminating his profile. “Kane answered for both too often, and Fillmore reaped extra time to think. We’ll see more of a reaction if we talk to them one at a time.”

“Drawing things out seems unwise.”
And painful
. Evie swallowed.
How many times will I sit here and either not hear my name or be lauded for nothing but my meals? Do any of the men see me as more than a cook? Do any of them even want me?

Jake wanted her to stop looking as though someone shot her dog. He saw the doubt in Evie’s expression and wanted to tell her that not all men would be idiots. Some saw her kind smile and the brave heart behind it. He wanted to tell her the two men who walked out of the room a moment ago were nothing but fools.

But one of them might be so much more. Even if Kane and Fillmore turned out to be clean, one of the men walking so freely around town wore the stain of murder on his soul.

Seeing her hurt made him want to go find one of those sequoias he’d seen photographs of and fell one with nothing but an ax, but Jake knew he’d rather Evie stay gun-shy than moon about with stars in her eyes. Better she be wary, stay on guard against the men surrounding her and her friends than let any one of them fall into the schemes of scum.

After all, it’s only a matter of time before I carry the filth away
.

     TWENTY-FIVE