Much Ado About Madams (23 page)

“
You call that helping?” he muttered without breaking his swing.

“
I just need to refine my technique some.” A lot, actually, but she’d get this figured out.

“
Just don’t spook the horses more than they already are.”

The team had calmed down but even a city girl could see their ears were pinned back and they’d probably bolt at the slightest provocation.

“
I’ll be more careful, but if your clanging doesn’t spook them, my shoveling shouldn’t.”

“
These horses are used to noise, but no beast likes dirt thrown in its eyes.”

She shrugged and got back to the business of digging. Her next attempt gained a little more dirt on the shovel and she ventured closer to the edge to throw the dirt off.

“
That’s more like it, Miss Sharpe, but you’re back’s gonna be mighty sore if you don’t use your legs to lift the load. You have knees—bend them. That’s what they’re for.”

“
I do not care to discuss my anatomy with you, Mr. McAdams.”

“
We’ll see about that in an hour.” He swung the pick at the boulder, the clang hurting her ears, but she’d get used to it. And she’d shovel so much dirt he wouldn’t have to finish up for her.

Half an hour later, her back ached, sweat was running down her corset, and she’d worn holes in her gloves. Blisters stung her hands, her throat was parched, and her legs wobbled from weariness. Still, she carried on, having cleared only about a fourth of the dirt. She straightened, put her hands on her waist, and stretched her back.

“
Getting to you?” Reese smirked and slammed the pick into yet another rock, his swing just as powerful as his first.

“
Of course not.” Although she was about ready to turn in her suffragist card. “I shall continue until we’ve completed our project.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “I’m done with the rocks. You want me to watch you shovel or are you gonna let a man do it?”

It wasn’t a real question because he took the shovel, and she let him have it, even though somehow it felt like a humiliating defeat. If she’d had an ounce of energy left, she’d show him what a real woman could do.

“
I’ll get some water, and then we can take turns with the shovel.”

“
As you say.” He touched the brim of his hat, then started work. Each shovelful contained three times as much dirt as she could manipulate, and by the time she sidled along the side of the mountain to the wagon and retrieved the canteen, he’d already made quite a dent in the pile.

She uncorked the canteen and offered it to him.

“
Naw, you can have the first drink. I’m not sure that water’s going to last long, and it might be a while before we find any more.”

Lucinda looked at the battered canteen. Her notions of cleanliness dissipated with the dryness of her throat. All qualms aside, she took a few swallows. The water tasted like canvas and dirt, but it was wet—heavenly, in fact. Heeding Reese’s warning of the impending shortage, she limited her intake and handed him the canteen.

“
While I scoop this pile off, you can go up the road and throw off any rocks larger than a couple inches.”

“
Is that just something to do to keep me out of your hair?”

“
It’s something that will keep the horses from going lame.” And with that, he resumed his shoveling.

“
I’ll leave the water here for you.” She placed the canteen beside a sagebrush against the mountain. Picking rocks wouldn’t have been such a chore if her back wasn’t ready to break and her hands weren’t so sore, but it was easier than shoveling.

Still, it was hard to resist taking a peek at Reese, who’d unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. His muscles bulged with every scoop of the shovel. Without a doubt, no woman could resist a look now and then.

He straightened and leaned on his shovel. “You like watching other people work?”

Just him. “Um, I wanted to remind you to take a drink before you get too thirsty.” Ah, quick thinking. She set back to work picking rocks and flinging them over the side.

Chapter 12

Reese worked hard for the next hour or so, judging by the movement of the sun.

Lucinda finished picking the rocks, and for good measure, discarded the sticks as well.

“
I’ll take my turn at shoveling now.”

“
I’m just about done. You rest a bit and we’ll take off.”

She leaned against the mountainside and watched him work, wondering what made him such an enigma. He owned a brothel, yet he treated the ladies with kindness. He’d proven himself a good businessman, he also sat a fine seat on his horse, and could handle himself in a brawl. Even so, she doubted he wanted to add road-building to his repertoire.

Finally the digging stopped. “All done.” Sweat soaked his shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of mud.

“
I could fix you a bite to eat.”

“
Thanks, but the food better wait. I want to get the wagon off this section of the road while it still holds, and before any more rocks decide to fall on us.”

She nodded. “You’ve put in a day’s work so I thought you’d need a little rest.”

“
I do, but first, I want you to get behind the wagon while I release the brakes, then lead the team past the road patch. You can get on the wagon after that.”

“
Does that mean the road might not hold?”

“
Yep. You never know when these mountain roads will give way as it is, and this portion is weakened. Luckily, we’re hauling very little weight.”

“
I see.” And she did. The whole time she’d been standing there, she’d seen evidence of rocks falling down the side of the road and into the canyon below.

He climbed onto the back of the wagon and stepped carefully to the seat, unwound the ribbons and cooed to the team as if to tell them in horse talk what he expected of them. Without flicking the reins, he said, “Gid-up, now,” in a low voice.

The horses pulled the wagon forward smoothly but slowly, sending rocks skittering down the cliff. Lucinda could barely breathe for the tension. Finally, Reese stopped the wagon about twenty yards on the other side of the newly cleared section.

“
Oh, my!” Her legs wobbled and her feet wouldn’t move—the mountain was too high, the canyon too deep, and her courage completely missing. She’d encountered nothing like this at Miss Hattie’s School for the Refinement of Young Ladies. At least when the wagon was there, or when she was ahead of it, she’d felt a modicum of security.

“
Are you coming?”

She couldn’t answer.

After a moment, Reese set the brake and climbed over the wagon bed. “I’ll get you. Stay right there.”

As if she’d do anything else.

Each step he took reassured her, and soon he was directly in front of her. “Miss Sharpe?”

She pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, his warmth and strength serving as salve to her fear. Within a few heartbeats, he hugged her and rubbed her sore back.

“
You’ve been through a lot, Miss Sharpe. We’ll be on our way now.”

His gentle smile and kind eyes were her undoing. She stood on her tippy-toes and brushed a kiss on his cheek, but he turned his mouth toward her lips and connected full on. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Whether from her giddiness from the sudden and unreasonable panic, or from wanting him for so long, she couldn’t know, but his kiss sent waves of pleasure rippling all the way down to her toes. “Then do it again.”

She closed her eyes and waited. He didn’t disappoint her. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he kissed her harder this time, and just a little flick of his tongue on her lower lip nearly melted her knees.

Reese cleared his throat and set her a few inches away from him. “Do you want me to carry you to the wagon? Or would you rather walk? We have to get off this mountain before anything else happens.”

“
I’ll walk.” She sure didn’t want to be any higher off the ground than necessary.

“
You stay close to the mountainside, and I’ll be right beside you.”

“
Thank you, Mr. McAdams.” His presence reassured her, or maybe it was the kiss. Either way, she felt like she could fly to the wagon.

“
I think we’re well enough acquainted now, you can call me Reese. If you prefer me to call you Miss Sharpe, I will.”

“
No—no, we’re well acquainted now. You may address me as Lucinda in private, and, um, there’s one other thing.”

“
Yes?”

“
The spoke is cracked.” When they got to the wagon, she pointed to the back right wheel.

“
Damn.” He ran his hand over the spoke and groaned. “It’s not broken but I doubt this will hold, and there’s not room to change it here. Let’s hope it’ll get us across the mountain.”

Considering the circumstances, she didn’t remind him not to curse.

“
Pardon my French.”

* * * * *

Miss Lucinda Sharpe could drive a man crazy. Nothing like intelligence, beauty, spirit, and warm, inviting lips all in one package. And a good dose of stubbornness. He’d made small talk to calm her down as they drove to the other side of the mountain, and approached flatter land. The wheel hadn’t made any noise and he hoped that, with a little care and a lot of luck, it would hold out until they got to Silver City.

“
How’d you come to be a schoolteacher?”

She smirked. “Not much else to do at Miss Hattie’s School for the Refinement of Young Ladies. Some fellows came courting but I was more interested in winning suffrage than pretending to like someone who needed a maid.”

The road widened and the wagon had a couple feet of clearance on either side, which was welcome.

“
Why’d you order all those school supplies?” He guided the team around the bend, where the road turned into jagged ruts, jostling Lucinda, and she grabbed his arm. Just as quickly, she released him and held the front edge of the seat. With some difficulty, he maneuvered the horses and wagon so one side stayed on the center ridge and the other was on the roadside.

“
Truth?” She kept her gaze straight ahead. “I thought you’d send them back. Maybe I wanted to see how important education was to you.”

“
Back home, my mother insisted I graduate all twelve grades. She wanted me to read for the law and I went to Harvard for a year, but I wanted to fight Indians, so I joined the cavalry and came west. Probably should’ve done what she wanted.”

“
That bad?”

“
I don’t mind fighting, but we saw things no man should ever see.”

“
We?”

“
The twins, Logan, and me. They were in my troop. Damned good fighting men, excuse my French.”

“
I can believe it after seeing the fight at the Comfort Palace. And there’s no excuse for ‘French,’ as you call it.”

Reese chuckled. “You have to tell me, where’d you learn to rope like that?”

“
Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

“
Your luck, not mine.”

“
It stopped the fight.”

One wheel fell into the foot-deep rut and he heard a loud crack. The wagon jolted to a stop and Lucinda pitched forward. Reese grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.

“
What happened?”

“
Lemme check.”

“
You can let go now.”

He didn’t want to, but he removed his arm from her waist. Much as he hated the thought of changing a wheel, at least the incident had put her where he wanted her—tight against him. He secured the ribbons and hopped down. “You stay here.”

“
I hope nothing’s broken.”

The front wheel was shattered all to hell. “It is. We have another wheel that Gus wanted fixed. I’ll see if it’s usable, but even if it is, changing a wheel isn’t exactly easy.”

She pulled off her ragged gloves and for the first time, he noticed the blood on her hands. Never once had she complained. If ever he wanted a woman for keeps, she’d be the one.

“
Well, Mr. McAdams—

“
Reese.”

“
Er, Reese, at least there’s some room on either side of the road here.”

He hopped off the wagon and threw back the tarp. The wheel looked to be the right size and looked beat up some, but usable. “Luck’s with us, Lucinda. Gus even threw in a jack.”

“
Good!”

“
No handle, though.”

“
Bad.” She climbed off the wagon and joined him at the tailgate. “Maybe you could use the pick handle?”

“
Good idea.”

Reese figured he’d finally tired her out of all this suffragist nonsense because she was content to fetch and carry instead of insisting on changing the wheel herself.

“
Are you ready for some food now?”

“
Yes, I’ll have a bite or two, but we have to get moving and it takes both hands to handle the reins, especially on this road.”

“
No problem, I’ll feed you.” She wrestled a few things out of the picnic basket. “Oh, and I found a little stream up the road while you were changing the wheel, so I washed up and filled the canteen. You might feel better if you washed, too.”