Part 22 (1/2)

Ronny said no more, just worked his jaw back and forth to be sure all was intact. A goodly portion of the crew had caught up and acted as if nothing at all had happened. They simply unpacked the wagon and pillow sack, then started pa.s.sing around the food. Whiffs of their repast unfurled and blended with the smell of fresh air and wood shavings.

”Are you all right?” Joe's voice was low and very close to her ear.

She glanced up over her shoulder, then ran a hand over her braid and the mess of tendrils that had escaped it. ”I overslept. I'm so sorry.”

”I'm just glad you're all right.”

”It won't happen again.”

He hooked some hair behind her ear. ”No harm done.”

She didn't know if it was the touch or the tenor of his voice, but a rush of b.u.mps skittered up her arms. ”Why didn't you wake me?”

”You looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart.”

Her breath caught. He saw me? In my bedroom?

She bit her lower lip. ”You'd better get something before it's gone.”

He tapped her on the chin. ”Oh, I plan to, Miss Ivey. I definitely plan to.”

Clasping her hands in front of her, she pretended not to understand his implication. But she did understand. And the antic.i.p.ation that sprung up within her terrified her more than his words.

He's pledged to another, she told herself. So long as he stayed that way, she should be safe.

Joe helped himself, then again took up his place behind her. He bit into a potato pancake wrapped around a boiled egg. ”Mmmmm. You want some?”

She shook her head.

”Go on. I'd wager you haven't had a thing to eat yet.”

Her stomach chose that moment to growl.

Grinning, he brought the rolled pancake within inches of her mouth. But he didn't offer her the end that hadn't been bitten. He offered her the end he'd eaten from. She hesitated. He waved it under her nose. Holding his hand still with hers, she took a bite. He gave her a hooded look, then popped what was left in his mouth.

The rest of the men had settled in a circle on the sawdust-covered ground. Several tawny-striped chipmunks rushed out from the brush and gathered at their feet, darting from one booted foot to another.

Anna backed up and b.u.mped into Joe's solid ma.s.s. ”Won't they bite?”

”No, those are our pet chipmunks. They come every day. They're particularly fond of Thirsty. Watch.”

She looked Thirsty's way just as one of the furry creatures ran up his back, onto his arm, and helped itself to the boiled egg he held in his hand. The seasoned lumberjack lowered the critter to the ground.

Sitting back on its haunches, the chipmunk finished the egg, wiped its mouth with its tail, then licked its tail clean. Never had she seen such a tender expression on Thirsty's face.

She wondered suddenly if he had family or if he was alone in the world. Just like her.

”How did Thirsty get his nickname?” she asked.

Red threw Joe a tomato she'd not had time to slice. He caught it, then took a bite as if it were an apple. Dark red juice dribbled out of the tomato. Placing his lips against it, he caught the juices with his mouth, closed his eyes, and sucked, his cheeks inverting.

Inside, her stomach felt like a ball held long underwater that finally shot up to the surface. She placed a hand against her waist but could not suppress the buoyant commotion.

”Several winters ago,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, ”we ran short of grub. So I sent Gibbs and Fish to town to buy us some supplies. When they returned we were near starving.”

She took a calming breath. ”What does that have to do with Thirsty?”

”Well, when we went to unpack the goods, we found several cases of whiskey and only two loaves of bread. We all stared in shock until Thirsty snorted and said, 'Now what're we going to do with all that bread?' ”

She blinked. ”You're teasing me.”

”I'm not.” His eyes shone with amus.e.m.e.nt. They were dark green today, like the leaves in the forest.

”No dessert, Miss Ivey?” Ronny asked, then leapt out of Thirsty's reach.

She moved away from Joe and to the men's circle. ”I'll make some extra tonight. I promise.”

The men began to clean up, but she shooed them away. ”I'll take care of this.”

The chipmunks receded back into the forest, and all the men but Ronny returned to their work. The boy refused to leave the cleaning to her, insisting on helping her. Acquiescing, she stacked two bowls in the wagon and chanced to look up.

Joe had just stepped onto his springboard, which he'd anch.o.r.ed only a few feet above the ground. He drove his ax deep into the trunk above him, grabbed tightly to the ax handle with one hand, and hung suspended from it while pulling the springboard free and inserting it into the notch above him.

The muscles in his arm bunched. Once the board was firmly in place, he put both hands on the ax handle and hauled himself up, swinging aboard the plank with ease.

He repeated the action over and over on his way up to the place he and Red had been sawing before. Arms, shoulders, back, and legs all stretched and flexed beneath his s.h.i.+rt.

When he reached his final position, he looked down at her, winked, then leaned a shoulder against the tree and waited for Red-who stood on one board while inserting another above him, then pulled himself up that way. Impressive, but not anywhere near as stirring as what Joe had done. And the impossible man knew it.

Ronny stepped up next to her. ”He can jump farther, spit straighter, kick higher, run faster, and shout louder than anybody I ever saw.” His tone held some of the awe she was feeling.

Seeing Joe out here today was much different than when it had been just the two of them on Sunday. Then, he'd been tinkering. Today he was in his element. The vastness of the forests he invaded, the forces of nature he had to combat and control, the sheer size of the trees he brought down, all helped define the man.

And if challenged, she had no doubt that he'd channel that strength and resolve with single-minded ferocity until he'd proven himself and achieved his goal. The thought gave her pause.

Red reached his position. Joe jumped into the air and did an about-face on the springboard, then sprinkled oil on the saw. The two men settled into a crouch and began to work the blade back and forth.

”Do you see that stake out there, sort of to the left?” Ronny asked, pointing.

She scanned the hill.

”Waaaaaaaaay down there,” he said.

Squinting, she put her hand over her eyes. ”Yes! Yes, I see it.”

”Joe put it there. He bet Red that when the tree comes down, the upper end of the trunk will fall on the stake and drive it straight into the ground.”