The Minx Miner Page 4

  “Please, call me, Alison.”

  Gemma looked around, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m not certain that’s proper.”

  “Hang proper. I think you’ll enjoy your time here, Miss Watts. The rules are much less strict, and there’s freedom for women like us.” She bobbed her head. “You might not be able to ride through town in your breeches, but if you want to ride through the fields here, no one will bat an eye.” A glimmer entered her eyes. “I’ve trained the workers well in that regard.”

  Gemma guffawed. “I’m glad to hear I might be allowed some liberties. If I have to wear dresses like this every moment. I might go mad.”

  Alison cocked her head. “Did your family allow you to dress as a man often? Is that why you aren’t used to it?”

  This was slippery ground. “Yes. My mother abandoned my father and I when I was young. I didn’t have much of a woman’s influence growing up.”

  “Ah. That makes a lot of sense.” Gemma appreciated the woman’s lack of pity. “A man doesn’t quite know what to do with a daughter on his own.”

  “You’ve just described my father perfectly.” She laughed, feeling wistful as she thought of her childhood.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “I do. And he’s going to miss me as well.”

  “Can he not travel west?”

  Gemma shook her head. “No. He has a successful business in New York. He can’t leave.”

  Alison shrugged. “People move and start over all the time. You never know what might happen.”

  “That’s true.” Gemma didn’t know what the future held, but she knew she’d never see her father again.

  It pained her to think of it.

  She straightened her spine, deciding to push forward with her plan. “Mrs. Walburn—Alison,” she corrected herself at the woman’s look, “I don’t know who my fiancé is, and unless I’m certain of him, I can’t get married.”

  “Of course not! And once words spreads of what’s happened to you, there will be men who’ll try to trick you into marriage.”

  She hadn’t even thought of that. “Why on earth would they do something like that?”

  “Because there’s not enough women. You must have realized that. Why do you think men send out for brides like you?”

  Gemma was being an idiot. Of course, she knew that. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just so disoriented.” She held a hand to her head. “What I was saying was that I need to find something to do if I can’t find my intended. I want to provide for myself.”

  Alison nodded firmly. “We will find you a position. In fact, there will be a job open here if you ever want it.”

  The generous offer stunned her. “How kind. I’m not certain what I would do, but I’m willing to learn, and I’ll work hard.”

  The woman smiled. “I know you will. I can tell that about you. You’re like me, willing to work and earn your own way.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I wish I could have seen my son’s face when he caught you in the river.”

  Gemma’s lips twitched. “He thought I was a boy.”

  Alison hooted and slapped her knee. “Bet he was surprised.” Her eyes twinkled. “You know, it was in that exact river that I found gold. It was the start of all of this.” She gestured to the house. “He’s heard the story plenty of times, so it must’ve been like seeing history. I’m sure it shocked him.”

  Gemma could only imagine.

  Alison patted Gemma’s arm. “Rest now, and I’ll have a tray brought up. We can talk more tomorrow, maybe come up with a few ideas for jobs if you think it truly might be an issue.”

  “Thank you.” Gemma couldn’t stop saying it. She was so grateful she’d come here and found the Walburns. She’d thought she’d prepared enough, but if anyone else had found her, things could have been a lot worse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Alison walked out of the room after a final goodbye and closed the door.

  Gemma flopped onto the bed. This was all like some elaborate dream. She just wished she knew if it would end up being a good dream or a bad one.

  Chapter 5

  Cursing floated into the house through the open windows, and Logan’s feet slowed. He cocked an ear, listening to the feminine voice and grinned. That wasn’t his mother or one of their maids.

  That was Gemma.

  He really shouldn’t like that about her, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Gemma was unlike every lady of his acquaintance—and he loved it.

  Why did she have to be engaged already? Fate was so cruel.

  He changed direction and headed toward the back door before he could stop himself. He should stay away from her, but right then, he didn’t care.

  He needed to know why she was cursing.

  As he stepped through the doorway, everything became clear. She was wearing the fine dress she’d worn the day before, but she was hunched over the wash basin, attempting to scrub her denim pants—attempting because she splashed water in waves onto her fancy getup while the washboard wobbled around, constantly shifting before she could get a good scrub.

  She cursed, repositioned the board and tried again, concentrating so hard her nose scrunched. When it moved again, she laid the pants over the side and threw her hands up. “I don’t get this! It seriously can’t be this hard.”

  She glared at the wash bin, and he laughed.

  Her head shot up, her eyes connecting with him before they narrowed. “Do you find this funny, Mr. Walburn? Because it’s not. I’m ready to murder it.”

  “Should I call the sheriff?” he asked, his tone serious. “He doesn’t take kindly to murder.”

  “It might be worth it,” she muttered. “I can’t get this to work.”

  “That’s because you’re doing it all wrong.”

  Her hip popped out as she crossed her arms. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you come show me how it’s done.”

  “Gladly.” He pushed off the house and strode toward her. “The reason it’s moving around so much is because you haven’t secured it. If you do this”—he showed her how to anchor it—“it’ll be a lot easier.” He picked up her pants. “Then take the garment and the soap like this, rub them together, and then start scrubbing on the board.” He demonstrated each step, moving with easy familiarity.

  She blew a tendril of hair from her eyes. “Why do you know how to do that? Isn’t it women’s work?”

  He laughed. “My mother doesn’t believe in men’s work and women’s work. To her, it’s just work and every able body better know how to do it. She had me doing the laundry from a young age, and then, even after we got help, she made me do it on occasion just to keep me humble.”

  Her lips twitched. “I like your mother.”

  He chuckled. That didn’t surprise him in the least. “She likes you too.”

  “I’m glad. You know, I wanted to thank you again for helping me instead of shooting me.”

  “It could’ve gone either way.”

  She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You would have shot me in the back?”

  “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I would have shot you in the front.”

  A devilish glint entered her eyes, and by the time he realized what she going to do, it was too late.

  Scooping handfuls of water, she splashed him with sudsy water. Sudsy, freezing water.

  He jumped back, sucking in a breath. “What was that for?”

  She shrugged, but he noticed her smile before she looked away. “Oh, I don’t know. You just looked like you needed to cool off a bit.”

  “Is that so?” Two could play this game. He stepped closer to the bin. “You know, doing laundry is hard work. You look a little warm too.”

  Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that.” He reached into the water, expecting her to dart out of reach.

  But instead, she shrieked and leaped for the bin, splashing him again before he had a chance to attack.

  Shocked, he hesitated a moment, allo
wing her to splash him several more times before he cupped his own handfuls of water.

  The first attack hit her shoulder, and she squealed but didn’t let up her assault.

  Laughing, he splashed her again as they circled the bin, trying to get away from each other while still remaining within range of the water.

  Once they were both completely drenched, she giggled and stepped away with her hands held high. “I surrender.”

  “Never surrender.” Pouncing, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight. He’d just intended to capture her before she could splash him again, but once their wet clothes met, the heat of her body seeped through to his skin, and all laughter died on his lips.

  He stared into her hazel eyes, the colors taunting him with secrets. Who was this woman? Where had she come from?

  Why can’t she be mine?

  He’d never wanted anything more in his life than to kiss her, to grip her hair in his hands, and sink into her taste.

  Her fingers inched up his chest, and her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lips, almost bringing him to his knees. “Logan…”

  His closed his eyes, praying for strength, but couldn’t let her go. He squeezed her tighter against him, the wet clothes almost no barrier to her body.

  He craved her with a frenzied need.

  But no matter how much his body wanted to take over, his brain reasserted itself.

  He released her, but she didn’t scramble away like she ought. “Why?” she asked softly.

  Looking into her eyes, he didn’t try to pretend to not understand. “Because you belong to another.”

  Her mouth opened, but then she shut it.

  Bitterness swept through him. She couldn’t deny it either. It didn’t matter how much he desired her or how she might feel about him. She’d made promises to another. And honoring them had to come before everything.

  With a deep breath, he gripped her shoulders and stepped away, knowing his control was hanging by a thread. “I can take you into town tomorrow if you’re ready. It’s probably best if you find your fiancé as soon as possible.”

  Mutely, she nodded. “All right.”

  He glanced at the basin. “And we can have your clothes washed. You needn’t trouble yourself.”

  “I think it’s something I’m going to have to learn anyway. I don’t know if my husband will have anyone helping us.”

  He gritted his teeth. Gemma deserved to be taken care of. It was obvious she was capable, but he still wanted to do it, to make sure she never doubted how special she was.

  But that might not happen. She could be marrying anyone. A wealthy man or one of the poorest miners. He had no idea.

  And neither did she.

  He looked away from her. “I’ll take you first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He walked back into the house, unable to say anything more without begging her to stay.

  The ride to town was filled with awkward silences and stilted communication. Gemma wished they’d chosen to take two horses instead of the carriage—even if the likelihood of her falling off was high.

  That had to be better than this.

  She didn’t know why Logan was so hot and cold with her. She could tell he wanted her, but then he’d shut down.

  She didn’t understand why it would matter if she had a man waiting. He knew she didn’t love her fictitious fiancé, and she wasn’t married yet. Surely, people broke off their engagements in this time too.

  Perhaps it wasn’t that common? Gemma thought she’d known everything she’d need to know, but the longer she was here, the more she realized how truly wrong she was.

  This ride was only one example of that.

  The landscape was breathtaking, rugged, and wild, with the cleanest air she’d ever breathed. She wanted to bask in it, to celebrate it, but she didn’t think Logan would appreciate it.

  Still, when would things ever be this easy again? He might not know it, but there wasn’t a fiancé waiting for her, and soon, she’d have to figure out how to survive without Logan’s generosity.

  She didn’t want things to end poorly between them. Even if they weren’t meant to be together, couldn’t they at least be friends?

  She inhaled a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of the air here. I’ve never breathed anything like it before.”

  “I imagine New York would be much different,” he agreed.

  “More than you know.” She was just thinking of what it was like with millions of people crammed into such a tiny space. The thousands of cars, the pollution, the crime. It truly was an entirely different world.

  But even in this time, New York was completely different than here. The air quality had to be even worse, poverty afflicted most of the population, and hunger and disease were rampant. “I know it must have been hard growing up, but you’re lucky to be here.”

  He nodded once, not arguing the point. But he didn’t say anything else.

  She leaned against her seat and held her face up to the sky, enjoying the warm sun’s rays on her skin. “I stayed up far too late last night, looking out my window.”

  Even though he didn’t want to talk, she could tell she’d intrigued him. He glanced over at her for the first time. “What were you looking at?”

  “The stars.” She opened her eyes as if she could still see them. “You can hardly see them in New York with all the lights.”

  “It’s hard to imagine a sky without them.”

  “You don’t notice after a while. And life gets busy. When does a person have time to stop and just look at them? Like, really look at them?” Gemma certainly hadn’t. And she regretted it.

  In the few days since she’d arrived, she’d noticed the change in pace. Things were slower here. There weren’t cars to take you places, or phones to call a friend just because you were thinking of them. TVs, computers, texting—none even existed.

  And without them, how did people spend their time?

  It’d been a difficult adjustment. After she’d fallen in the river, she’d been so consumed with trying to survive and finding gold that she hadn’t really noticed. But here at Logan’s house, all her needs were provided for. She had nothing to fill her time.

  She needed to work to not go insane.

  “I can’t remember the last time I did that,” he admitted. “Just lie in the grass and watch the stars. There’s always something that needs to be done, something that needs my attention.”

  She glanced over at him, wondering what his daily life was like. Did he really work himself that hard? Did he need to?

  She’d heard more and more about the Walburn Claim. It was massive. They could’ve moved back East and had one of the finest homes money could buy. But they’d remained here, working day in and day out. “I think it’s something you have to make time for.”

  And even though she’d guarded her heart from him, her shield was starting to crack, and the desire to make him slow down, to show him that life could be even more, filled her.

  It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she couldn’t have him, she didn’t care. She still wanted him.

  And part of her was starting not to care that she might be screwing up history or that he deserved more than she could give. Wasn’t love the most valuable prize of all?

  “We’re coming up on Main Street.”

  At his announcement, she sat up on the bench to get an unobstructed view of her new home. Houses appeared more frequently until they were next door to each other, each as tidy and well-kept as the next.

  “You’ll be able to find almost anything you need here. The town is still small, but it’s growing rapidly.”

  She couldn’t look away from the cute storefronts. “Why is that? Are people finding more gold?”

  She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye. “There’s always more gold here. But no. It’s mainly because of the Copper Kings.”

  Her head whipped around, r
ecognizing the name. “The Copper Kings? They’re here?”

  He looked at her curiously. “Yes. Their mine opened not long ago. Do you know of them?”

  She didn’t know much, but she’d come across plenty of research about them. They’d been—were—powerful, rich men who’d run one of the largest copper mines in the world. There’d been problems, and mining wasn’t exactly safe, but the wealth that mine produced had shocked the world even then—now. Ugh. Time travel was confusing. “Yes. I think I’ve heard of them before. I just had no idea the mine was here.”

  He nodded but turned his attention back to the compacted dirt road. “They’ve brought in more workers, services, and shops than ever before. They even helped build the new school, church, and medical clinic. One of them is the doctor there.”

  “Fascinating.” To her, this was all history, but it was unfolding before her eyes.

  He looked at her curiously again but didn’t say anything. He pointed out several places she might find of interest. “The bank, the mercantile, and Sally’s café. We also very recently got a new bakery where you can get simple fare. If you’re looking for something more elegant, you’ll find it at the Winthrop Hotel.”

  Her mouth hung open. “There’s a Winthrop Hotel here?”

  Amused, he pointed out the structure. “Yes. It’s not as grand as the ones in other cities, but Winthrop runs it himself with his wife, Willow.”

  It took all of her willpower not to let her jaw hang open. She’d been in the Winthrop Hotel in New York. She’d never been able to afford a night there, but just being inside had been an experience. Their hotels were some of the most lux, exclusive hotels in the world.

  And they had one in this little town. “I would love to meet them.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She loved romance novels from this time, but the history had fascinated her as well. She had an almost overwhelming urge to know who the people really were. Perhaps she could write it all down and bury it somewhere for someone in the future to find.

  “I can arrange it if you’d like. We’re associates.”

  Warily, she glanced at him again. Logically, she knew he was wealthy beyond imagining, but that wasn’t what she thought of when she was around him.