Accidental Sweetheart. Lisa Bingham

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СКАЧАТЬ Unusual.

      That was one way of describing the situation. Nearly three months had elapsed since the avalanche. And this winter, the miners had been forced to contend with more than fifty stranded passengers who were living in their valley, eating their stores, using their supplies. In many ways, it was a blessing that spring had come early, even though there were those who weren’t looking forward to the consequences.

      “Will you be relieved to see the back of us, Mr. Gault?”

      When she met his gaze, Gideon looked as if she’d handed him a time bomb set to explode.

      Laughing, she said, “I suppose that there’s no diplomatic way of answering that, is there?”

      His eyes creased in amusement. “Like I said. I grew up with sisters. I’ve learned to recognize a loaded question.”

      “Then let me rephrase. I know that your duties will be simplified. But I wonder if you will miss us in some small way.”

      He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, Miss Tomlinson. I dare say that this valley will miss all of you when you’ve gone. You’ve brought a measure of joy to what would have been a dreary winter.”

      Lydia supposed she shouldn’t put too much import into his words, but she couldn’t ignore the warmth that settled into her heart.

      “I’m glad we weren’t a complete chore.”

      He shook his head. “Not a complete chore.”

      When she would have glared at him, he laughed. “Come now, Miss Tomlinson. You mustn’t take yourself too seriously. After all, our time together is limited.”

       Yes. But did it have to be?

      “I don’t suppose that your views have changed?”

      He arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

      “When we first arrived, you and Jonah, Mr. Batchwell and Mr. Bottoms...well, you were all so certain that having females in the valley would be the ruin of the mine. Do you still think that way?”

      She liked the way that Gideon didn’t answer immediately. He seemed to consider the question for some time before saying, “I would say that we’ve managed to make things work.”

      “Are production numbers down?”

      “No. From what I’ve seen, they’ve increased.”

      “And the safety issues. Has there been a marked increase in injuries?”

      She knew by the way he stiffened in the saddle that he had figured out the gist of her argument.

      “No. We’ve had some problems—the tunnel collapse in December and the incident with Jenny Reichmann—”

      “Which had nothing to do with the rest of us at the Dovecote.”

      He inclined his head in agreement.

      “Overall, I’d say that the men have been mindful of the risks of their job and have done their best to avoid any dangers they’ve encountered.”

      “So, there is no hard evidence that the women have proven to be a distraction.”

      “I can assure you that the men are plenty distracted, Miss Tomlinson. But there’s been no sign of it in their work. Yet.”

      “On the other hand, there have been definite advantages to having us here, I believe. Take the food, for example...”

      Gideon drew his mount to a halt, forcing her to do the same.

      “I take it that you’re building up to a grand finale in this debate, Miss Tomlinson. Why don’t you cut to the chase?”

      She reached to pat the neck of the mare.

      “I meant nothing of the kind. I merely wanted to know—in your expert opinion—if you felt that men and women could coexist here at Bachelor Bottoms.”

      He sighed and squinted against the bright sunshine that radiated from the upper slopes of the mountains.

      “It doesn’t really matter what I think, Miss Tomlinson. I’m a hired man, like the rest of the miners. If you want to make headway with your argument, you’ll need to take it up with the owners.”

      “But I would like your views on the matter, Mr. Gault. If the Misters Batchwell and Bottoms were to come to you and ask the same question, what would you say?”

      He met her gaze so completely, so directly, that she nearly looked away.

      Nearly.

      “Honestly, Miss Tomlinson, I think that Aspen Valley would be better off with the women gone.”

      The words clutched at her heart like an unseen fist. She should have expected such sentiments coming from one of the Pinkertons tasked with guarding the mail-order brides, but she’d thought—no, she’d hoped—that Gideon Gault might look past those challenges to the ways the girls had helped the community. Even he must see that a measure of happiness had come to Bachelor Bottoms, and the women were responsible for helping to make that happen.

      “Now, how about we go check out that pass so you have an estimate for the rest of your stay?” Gideon said, urging his mount forward.

      And for a moment, the chill that seeped into her body had nothing to do with the wind gusting down from the snowy peaks.

      * * *

      Gideon knew without being told that he’d disappointed Lydia with his answer. Although she tried to keep a blank face, he saw the light fade from her crystal-blue eyes only to be replaced with something that looked very much like...hurt.

      As he led his mount up the slope, Gideon pushed that thought away. He was nothing to Lydia Tomlinson—so why would she care one way or the other? For the past few months, he’d been a thorn in her side, just as she’d been one in his.

      Nevertheless, he couldn’t seem to shake away the feeling that—in his haste to get things back to normal again—he’d inadvertently denigrated the good the women had done.

      His eyes automatically scanned the debris field left by the avalanche even as his mind worried over his conversation with Lydia. Despite what he’d said, he would be the first to admit that the ladies had improved Bachelor Bottoms—and he wasn’t merely referring to the change in their diet. The food they served at the cook shack—two hot meals and cold meats and cheeses for lunch—were above and beyond anything that Stumpy, the old mine chef, had ever prepared. During the past few cold winter months, the men had learned to treasure time spent over savory stews, rich breads and hearty soups. Gideon probably had a better idea than most the way that the women had carefully planned each repast to make the most out of the community’s dwindling supplies. They’d stretched the foodstuffs as far as possible, all without lessening the taste.

      There were other ways the ladies had contributed even more. They’d nursed many of the men through illness and injury, brought order and warmth to their surroundings. Even the daily devotionals had grown sweeter from СКАЧАТЬ