Love's Story (6 page)

“Because it's a man's world out there,” Meredith said. She seated herself at the table, Mrs. Cooper's chilly gaze fastened upon her. “I'll fit in better.”

“Well, I never.”

Concern shown in Jonah's eyes as he watched the women spar.

“I don't know how New York City behaves these days, but the folks in Buckman's Pride won't take kindly to a woman dudded up like you are, no matter what the reason.”

“I guess they'll have to adjust.” Meredith's appetite left, and she pushed her plate away. “I'll meet you at the stables, Jonah.”

“Yes ma'am. After I've had my breakfast.” He was careful to avert his eyes from both women.

“That woman runs hot and cold,” Meredith said when she and Jonah left the stables toward Bucker's Stand.

“I hadn't noticed.”

Meredith cocked an eyebrow at Jonah. “Perhaps that's because she's mostly hot when you're around.”

“You think so?”

She grinned and let the matter drop.

“These trees,” motioned Jonah, “stretch on forever. I think there's about as much chance using up all this timber as there is using up the very air we breathe.”

“I'll keep your opinion in mind, old man, when I write my story.”

“I think I could stay in these woods forever.”

“Where's your camera equipment, Jonah?”

“I won't be taking any photographs today. First I need to set up scaffolds that will get my camera high enough to scope the trees.”

“Oh? Something permanent?”

“Perhaps. When I'm working I'll stay at the camp for several days on end.”

“So today's a scouting trip?”

“More or less. I didn't want you to have to ride out alone the first time.”

“That's kind of you. I have to admit my stomach is a bit jittery.”

Jonah shot her a look. “Is that a fact?”

A good two hours passed until they finally rode into Bucker's Stand. “Whew!” Meredith said. “I was beginning to think we'd gotten lost.”

“Me, too,” Jonah said, reining in his horse. “But, this is it. How do you feel?”

“Ask me that again tonight.”

Jonah chuckled beneath his thin walrus mustache.

The camp appeared to be nearly deserted. The few men they saw froze and stared at Meredith with hungry expressions. “Guess the clothes aren't working,” Jonah whispered.

“Hush. Where is everybody?”

“Probably in the woods.”

They dismounted and asked the first man they came across where they could find the camp foreman.

“Bull of the woods? Thar, in that tent.” The burly man pointed toward a rectangular gray structure.

Jonah nudged Meredith toward the tent indicated, while she took stock of the place.

One man, whose wrinkled face looked like leather, made a smacking noise with his lips, and Jonah gave her a light tug. “Hurry up.”

She felt a surge of disgust. “They'll just have to get used to seeing me around.”

Jonah peeked inside the tent's open flap, and a black bear of a man motioned them inside.

“If you're looking for a job, I don't think you'll do,” he said. His black eyes glanced over Meredith. “Especially that one.”

She strode forward. “We're not looking for a job. We have one. Meredith S. Mears, New York journalist.” She stuck out her hand.

“Jonah Shaw, photographer. You had any photographs taken of your camp yet?”

“Mm, nope.”

“Well, I'm your man then.”

The black-bearded bull of the woods did the formality of shaking their hands. “Josiah Jones. I can appreciate that you've come a long way. But I don't think you'll want to be sticking around. This is no place for city folks. It's rough, and it's dangerous. You'll likely get in the way of my men and get yourself killed.” His eyes raked over Meredith. “The only women here are ones who serve the meals, and they're loggers' wives.”

“Mr. Jones, we have come a very long way, and I have no intention of leaving Buckman's Pride without my story.”

“Staying in town then?” The bull asked.

“And I've set up a studio. We'll be around for a bit,” Jonah announced.

The bull shrugged his shoulders. “Don't say you haven't been warned. I'll not be responsible for any harm that comes your way. And I'll be mighty displeased should one of my men come to harm because of you. Accidents happen around here too easily as it is. The men don't need distractions.”

“Understood,” Meredith said.

Just then, a shadow indicated someone had entered the tent's doorway.

“Talbot,” The bull said with a sudden smirk on his face. “Got a job for you. See that these folks get shown around, and answer whatever questions they have, best you can.”

“But I was on my way back to the field, sir. One of the peelers sent me with this message.”

“I'll take it.” Josiah Jones reached out and took the piece of bark that served as paper. “And you'll take these folks. Try to keep them out of harm's way, if you can.”

“Yes sir.” The man's voice was both reluctant and familiar.

A dread fell over Meredith. She sensed that this was the one man she most wanted to avoid. Afraid to discover the truth, she turned very slowly.

Even though the slight person dressed like a man, Thatcher Talbot instantly recognized the reporter from the train and her photographer. The last thing Thatcher needed was her following him around, ready to delve into his personal life. His signing on with this outfit, however, was too recent for him to raise any objections to the boss's orders. When her eyes met his, he smelled trouble.

“No,” Meredith said. The bull of the wood's black brows furrowed. “Is Silas Cooke available? We're friends, and I'd really appreciate it if…”

“Does he look like he's available?” The bull of the woods asked.

“Come on.” Jonah took Meredith by the arm. “Mr. Talbot will do just fine.”

Beyond the tent, out of the bull's sight, Meredith dug in her feet. “No! He will not do just fine. He's the horrible man who ruined my hat.”

“I what? I don't know what your problem is, woman,” Talbot backed up a few paces, his hands fending her off, “and I don't think I want to know. I don't like this any better than you do.”

“In Buckman's Pride, the day I arrived, you splattered my gown and hat with mud. You are a… a beast!”

He shook his head. “I think I'd remember such a thing.”

“It was you,” Jonah said. “But you didn't realize you did it.”

“Well, that explains it then. I'm sorry, ma'am. I'd never do something like that intentionally.”

Meredith gritted her teeth and thrust herself in front of him, the top of her head at his chin. She tilted her head back. “You, sir, are a rude man. I'd rather be hung from a rope and dragged by my heels through these woods,” she gestured to the surrounding trees, “than be escorted by the likes of you. But this assignment is important to me, and since you're all we have, you'll have to do.”

Thatcher wanted to take the woman over his knee. “And you, ma'am, are a spoiled brat. But since my boss has given me this duty, and for your friend's sake, you'll have to do.”

“Well!” Meredith jerked her head so hard her hat slipped.

Jonah gripped Meredith's shoulder and stepped between them like a referee at a prizefight. “If I were to set up camp for a week or so to take some photographs, where would I stay?”

Talbot eased back. “This way.” He tramped off with Jonah and Meredith jogging after him. “I suppose the bull would put you in the bunkhouse with the rest of us.” He stopped in front of a long building with rows of bunks so close together that they had to be accessed from the foot end. “And if you didn't like this, you could just pitch a bedroll outside. Course, with the wild animals, I'd recommend the bunkhouse over the woods.”

“Are the animals here as ferocious as the men?” Meredith asked.

“Most are.” Talbot met her glare, hoping to frighten her.

Meredith raised her hands in surrender. “Look. We're wasting time. Why don't you let us follow you back to whatever it was you were doing. I'd like to see the loggers in action. Wouldn't you, Jonah?”

“Yes. That's a good idea.”

“It's not safe out there,” Mr. Talbot said.

“We've been through all that with the bull,” Meredith said. “We promise to stay out of your way, and we'll even find our own way back to camp when we're done.”

Talbot shrugged. “Have it your way.” He charged into the woods, not really caring if they kept up with him. They did. About twenty minutes later, they entered a tiny clearing where men were working together.

“By the way,” Meredith said. “What's a peeler?”

Talbot rolled his eyes. “A man who peels bark off a log.” He looked over the logging site. “You two can stand over there.” He pointed.

The loggers gave Meredith and Jonah several sidelong glances. Meredith didn't care; she was too intrigued with the logging operation. Questions popped into her head as quickly as the axes dropped wood chips onto the forest floor.

Talbot looked up once to see Meredith and Jonah tramping off alone. He figured they were heading back to the camp. The bull had put them in his care, so he took off after them. The crackling twigs made Meredith jump. Talbot stifled a grin.

That evening, Talbot lounged on his cot, his arms folded under his head, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“She sure is a pretty one.”

Talbot's head shot up, but when he saw it was Silas Cooke, he grinned. “Too pretty for her own good.”

“Hers or yours?”

Talbot sat up and motioned. “Sit a spell.”

Silas parked himself on the foot of Talbot's cot. “She doesn't like you much, does she?”

Talbot laughed. “Why don't you tell me about your trip together?”

The other man's eyes lit up.

G
ood morning.” Meredith smiled at two women crossing Main Street. One returned the smile until her black-haired companion elbowed her, then quickly tore her eyes away. Meredith felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Unlike New York City, Buckman's Pride was a small town. Had Mrs. Cooper spread some gossip? Her writing experiences trained her not to make assumptions, so she squared her shoulders and sought to dismiss the incident.