A Bride in the Bargain Part 25

And if he was going to lose his land, why did it have to be to Tillney? Bits of rain sprinkled through the leaves, moistening his face and hands.

The prospect of losing his land, really losing his land, became a serious possibility in his mind for the very first time. Before, he'd figured he could somehow work it out. But not anymore. He needed a wife and his last chance had just said no. Again. Judge Rountree wouldn't be offering any more extensions.

Joe recalled the year he'd signed up for the grant and received his acreage. He'd had nothing but an ax and six wild oxen. It had taken him three weeks to break them. Once he had, he hired a four-man logging crew, then started every day at first light.

He cooked and fed the men in one old shanty, then fed the oxen in another. He acted as foreman, bucker, bullwhacker, and faller.

It had taken years of hard work and perseverance to build what he had. And he stood to lose half. Simply because he didn't have a wife.

The rain beat down with a vengeance now, but he was almost done. Directing the chestnut to fall in the opposite direction from which it leaned was child's play. Still, he eyed the spot he was aiming for.

Between the darkness and the rain, he couldn't see a thing. No matter. He knew the lay of his land. After a couple more chops, he felt the tree start to give.

I'm sorry, Lorraine. I'm sorry for not loving you the way I should have.

The sharp splintering of the fibers gave their own cry of warning. Joe jumped out of the way, then watched as it began its descent right where he'd planned.

The sound of another tremendous crack caught him by surprise. He knew without looking up that the falling timber had struck a second tree, breaking off the top of it and redirecting the chestnut's path.

He started to run, praying the portion of the second tree- falling who knew where-wouldn't crush him and that any ricocheting debris wouldn't impale him.

His pant leg snagged on something. I'm not wearing my sawed-off pants.

It was his last thought.

A cold sheet of rain hit Anna as she left the lean-to, soaking her wrapper and nightdress. By the lantern's light, she slowed as she approached the chestnut tree. Only a stump was left. The rest lay prostrate beside it. Her heart clutched; then she scanned the area.

"Joe?" Lifting the lantern, she crept closer, ignoring the rocky ground poking into her feet. "Joe?"

She picked her way along the fallen tree, but the limbs and debris made it near impossible. "Joe? Can you hear me?"

The rain swallowed any response he might have made. Something sharp jabbed into her tender sole. Yelping, she hopped back.

She would have to get her shoes. Retracing her steps, she paused to look around the clearing, squinting in an effort to see through the darkness.

The vague silhouette of a splintered log a few yards away captured her attention. Lifting the lantern, her breath caught. It wasn't a log.

"Joe!"

He lay facedown and unmoving on the ground. Dropping to her knees, she touched his shoulder. "Joe? Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

Putting the lantern down, she slid a hand under his heavy head, lifted it a little, then turned his face so it was no longer buried. She placed her fingers on his neck, then held her breath. His pulse thrummed with a strong and steady beat.

Thank you, Lord.

She ran her hands along his arms and back and legs, checking for breaks and blood. Nothing.

"Joe?"

No response.

"Joe, please. Can you hear me?" She combed his hair away from his face and pulled back quickly when she encountered something sticky.

Oh no. She tentatively reached again for the spot that had blood on it. A knot the size of a lemon grew behind his ear.

Anna's heart dropped. This was her fault. If only she hadn't been so thoughtless with her rejection of him. If only she hadn't mentioned the tree again.

"Joe?" She gently shook his shoulder, tears mingling with the rain on her face. "Wake up. Can you hear me?"

He didn't so much as moan.

She bit her lip. She was going to have to leave him and get help. Either that or sit here until he woke up. But that could be hours yet. Days, even.

She discarded that thought as quickly as it came. Please, G.o.d. Not days.

Surging to her feet, she ran to the lean-to and pulled a chair from the table, then dragged it out to where he lay. With great care, she positioned it over his neck and head. Rain began to puddle on the seat, but no longer hit his face underneath.

Satisfied, she ran inside to put on her boots, then gathered some blankets. When she had Joe and the chair covered as best as she could, she grabbed the lantern and ran to the men's sleeping quarters, splas.h.i.+ng through the puddles, slipping on mud, and tripping over roots.

Anna rapped her fist against the door of the bunkhouse. "Red! Thirsty! Somebody! Wake up!"

Ronny jerked the door open. His eyes bulged. His hair stood out in discordant spikes. His faded blue union suit covered him from neck to foot.

"Where's Red?" she gasped, grabbing the ache in her side.

"Here." Red pushed the door wider, hopping on one foot as he poked the other into his trouser leg. "What's happened?"

"Joe got hurt felling a tree."

Red paused, his shoulders relaxing. "You must be having a bad dream. Joe's a seasoned lumberjack. He'd never do any chopping at night."

She turned her attention back to Ronny. "Joe got hurt felling a tree. I need help moving him inside. Will you come?"

Ronny jerked upright as if struck by a bolt of lightning, then surged forward. "Show me where."

Red grabbed him by the neck and flung him back inside. Anna hadn't realized the rest of the men had crowded behind the door until they caught Ronny as he fell. All of them were mussed. All were wearing union suits. All were staring at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"Let us get our, um, boots on first." Red turned to the men. "Well? You heard her. Get moving!"

She didn't wait but began running back home.

"At the house," she gasped when they caught up with her. "By the chestnut tree. Go on. Hurry."

"Ronny, stay with her."

The men rushed past.

Ronny grasped her elbow. "No need to run anymore, Miss Ivey. The boys will take care of him."

She didn't use up precious breath arguing. She simply alternated between running and jogging. Still, her body refused to cooperate. Several times, she had to stop until the st.i.tch in her side eased. And once, she tripped over a root, sprawling facedown on the path.

The storm worsened, the rain pelting her face with a stinging force. By the time the two of them made it back to the house, Joe was already inside.

They had the fire roaring, the water heating, and Joe stripped of his wet clothing. Wrapped in nothing more than a blanket, he lay on the floor. The men lounged around the kitchen laughing, telling jokes, acting as if Joe's accident was nothing but a trifle.

"He woke up?" she asked.

"Not that I know of." Red glanced at Pelican. "Give him a kick, would you?"

Pelican-a great pouch of snuff swelling his lower lip and making him look like his namesake-gave Joe a little shove with his foot.

"Stop it! What are you doing?" She raced to his side and shooed the men back.

"Oh, come on now, Miss Ivey. It's not too often we get the chance to kick the boss while he's down." There was no malice in Pelican's voice, and his expression was one of amused tolerance. As if he were teasing about some child who'd sc.r.a.ped his knee.

The men chuckled. She could not believe they would jest at a time like this. Before she had time to say so, Fish and Milton lumbered down the stairs with a bed from the spare room.

"Be careful!"

But they paid her no heed, gouging the wall on one side and sc.r.a.ping the stair rail on the other. By the time they made it into the kitchen, they'd left a trail of destruction in their wake.

She quickly scooted a chair to the side.

"Hoist 'em up, boys," Red bellowed.

The men closest to Joe each grabbed a limb and swung him like a pendulum.

"No!" she screamed.

But he was already airborne. The blanket around him slipped loose, pooling at the crux of the V his body made. He landed with a thud on the mattress, his modesty barely intact. A puff of dust billowed out around him.

"Out!" Anna pointed a finger at the door. "Out before I throttle every last one of you!"

They looked first at her and then each other, clearly perplexed.

"What's the matter?" Thirsty asked.

"What's the matter? What's the matter? That man has a head injury and you boys are throwing him around like some log you plan to send down the chute. That's what's the matter."

Gibbs glanced at Joe. "Oh, he'll be all right. That little b.u.mp's nothing compared to the one a fellow down in Tacoma got. Why, that one was so big it killed him dead. Joe's not dead. He's just sleeping it off."

Narrowing her eyes, she advanced on Gibbs. "Well, let me a.s.sure you, Mr. Gibbs, that b.u.mp you saw on the Tacoma man is nothing compared to what I'll mete out to anybody who so much as touches Joe again with anything other than the most gentle attentions." She jabbed her finger in his chest. "You understand me?"

He didn't budge.

She shoved him. "Do you understand me?"

Falling back a step, he raised his hands. "Yes, miss. We'll all be very gentle from now on. Won't we, boys?"

They mumbled their agreement.

Mollified for the moment, she turned back to Joe and jerked the blanket down to cover his huge, hairy legs. It didn't stop her from noticing the sheer magnitude of them, though. Why, his thighs were twice as big as her waist.

They were also extremely white compared to the dark golden color of his chest. Grabbing the other end of the blanket, she tucked it around his torso.

"What happened exactly?" Ronny asked.

"I don't know. I was up in my room. But from the sound of it, the tree didn't fall straight to the ground. It hit something else, I think. I'm not really sure."

"What in the Sam Hill was he doing chopping that thing in the middle of the night?" Red's exasperated tone had the men nodding and grumbling their agreement.

She lowered her chin. "It's my fault."

"Your fault?" Red's voice held more than a little surprise.

"I've been pestering him to chop it down. You saw how it leaned?"

A log in the fire s.h.i.+fted, causing sparks to shoot out.

"That doesn't explain why he decided to take it down after dark."

She swallowed. "I made him mad."

No one said a word. The water on the stove began to bubble. A crash of thunder shook the windows.

She swiped her eyes. "Somebody needs to go for a doctor."

They looked at each other, s.h.i.+fting their weight.

She frowned. "What?"

Ronny cleared his throat. "Miss Ivey, I don't mean any disrespect, but we can't start out for a doctor until morning. Then it will take half a day to get to town, no telling how long to find the doc, then all those hours to get back. Joe'll be awake long before that and the doc will have come for nothing."

Anger began to simmer inside her. She took a step forward. All but Red took a collective step back.

Anna zeroed in on him. "I want a doctor, Red. And I do not plan to wait until tomorrow night to get one. This cannot be the first time you've had an emergency. What did you do the last time you needed a doctor and didn't have time to wait?"

He pulled at his collar. "Well, we waited until morning and then went and got the doctor."

"What happened to the patient after all that time?"

"He died."

The blood drained from her face.

"Not that Joe's going to die!" he a.s.sured her. "He's just got a little b.u.mp."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Red interrupted. "Listen, if you want one of us to go get the doctor, well then, I'll send somebody on Shakespeare at dawn and the doc will be here late tomorrow night."