Rugged and Relentless (29 page)

You’d think I’d find better things to dream about, with prospective husbands around every corner
. But somehow, hard work and compromise pushed any hint of romance from the air. Even with two dozen would-be grooms underfoot, they’d accomplished
more than she’d imagined possible in the past eight days.

Her diner now boasted a storeroom twice the size she’d envisioned—which she now feared would still be only half as big as she’d need. They’d gone tramping up mountains and through forests to survey trees and sites for two days before choosing ground for the mill. Erstwhile suitors provided steady arms at every turn, while others cleared their paths of any obstacles.

Light rain showered them throughout the second day, but none of the men’s protests could convince them to let a little water wash them back to town and leave such an important decision to be made by others. The perfect uphill spot, it sat within sight of town, near both the river and the railroad. Best yet, Cora pointed out, Braden would be able to watch the progress from clearing to construction through his window.

Mr. Williams insisted on another area, which seemed equally advantageous, but Mr. Creed and Mr. Riordan stayed firm on their choice, to the unanimous approval of the other men.

She still hadn’t determined whether the men voted to be closer to the food or to thwart Williams. The man proved Daddy’s old advice, “A man who shares many opinions keeps few friends.” To be fair, Creed held easily as many opinions as Williams, and the other men seemed to respect him. Not necessarily like him, but still recognize him as a man of honor and intelligence.

Much the same way I do
. His superior attitude and assumption of power never failed to irk her, but Evie couldn’t say where they’d be now without Jake Creed. He kept the men in line, worked with Riordan to oversee labor, and, most importantly, alleviated the worst of Braden’s worries.
Though I doubt I’d approve whatever else he does on Braden’s behalf
.

Today she’d find answers to some of the questions she and the other women carried about Creed’s collaboration with Lacey’s brother. They already suspected he reported on the other men and the progress made so far with the mill, though when he found the time Evie couldn’t imagine. Creed kept just as busy as she did.

“All right, ladies.” Evie dried the final pan and set it on the proper shelf. “Before we meet with Creed and Braden, I need to find Draxley and set up a standing order for foodstuffs.”

“He keeps himself well hidden in the telegraph office,” Naomi reminded. “We’ve precious few telegrams, but coaxing him from that room is nigh unto impossible since that first night.”

“We need to speak with him about other things, too.” Lacey frowned. “Do you know he went to Braden to discuss an ‘increase in salary due to onerous demands placed upon his time and as befits the change in business practice and his position’?”

“That’s absurd.” Cora gaped at her friend. “When the mine operated, he received and sent far more telegrams and spoke to the train conductor daily. I kept all of Braden’s letters describing the town. He’s keeping his room and board, and now that we arrived, Draxley eats meals the same as our other men.”

“He asked me just yesterday if we’d be so kind as to take trays to his office, so he wouldn’t need to ‘abandon his post’ any more than necessary,” Naomi threw in. “I hesitated to mention it, as I told him he was welcome to come fetch his meals and bring back the tray if he felt uncomfortable spending time away from his desk, but we couldn’t bring it to him.”

“He’s not given me the lists of suppliers I requested, nor the ordering catalogs for the latest season.” Lacey frowned. “Evie, what would you say would be the cost for his food?”

“Twelve dollars a month.” Evie heard the women gasp and knew the tabulations running through their minds.

“But … with thirty people, and thirty days, that’s five hundred dollars in food every month!” Cora went pale at the sum.

“It’s more than worth it.” Evie and Lacey said almost the same words at the same time. Evie looked at Lacey in surprise.

“Their labor is worth more than three times that,” Lacey elaborated. “Some of them are worth nearly nine, depending on their position, experience, and skill. Mr. Riordan, Mr. Creed, Mr. Williams, Dodger, and Bobsley would be some of those.”

“I knew that they’d earn forty-five dollars a month, but how do you know the rest, Lacey?” Evie asked the obvious.

“Before I ever suggested this idea, I read up on the industry. What types of trees would be there, whether the wood would work, how much it takes to build a mill, what the pay scales for workers are …” Lacey blinked at their expressions. “Well, you didn’t expect I’d suggest we uproot our lives and hie off with no specifics to ensure our success, did you?”

“Of course not, Lace,” Cora hastened to assure her. “We simply had no idea you’d gone so far in depth as all that.”

“How is it the men you listed are worth more than the others?” Naomi’s curiosity matched Evie’s on that point.

“Riordan, Creed, and Williams are camp bosses, crew leads, whatever you want to call them. They know every job and can do most. Dodger and Bobsley high-climb to the tops of tall trees to saw off the upper portion and make it safer to chop down the rest. Bobsley also does rigging up there for mechanized engines.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Evie mused. “Dodger swims in so many layers of clothes tailored for a larger man, I’d think he’d find it dangerous to scramble about so high.”

“Lacey Lyman, are you telling us you actually understand all that blather the men spew about beasts in the timber and felling bucks without hunting?” Cora planted her hands on her hips. “And you didn’t mention it before or explain?”

“They’ve explained what they do when we’ve asked them.” Lacey blinked. “Every single one we’ve asked to join us at dinner.”

“But it hasn’t made any sense! It’s nothing but a bunch of nonsense nicknames and such to us, Lace. And you can explain.” Naomi beamed. “What, exactly, is a timber beast?”

“They’re all timber beasts. It’s a silly term for any man who works in the woods, felling or hauling lumber. Fallers are men who chop down the trees. Buckers take a felled tree and cut it into more manageable lengths for transport. Bull of the forest is the nickname for the bosses like Riordan and Creed.”

“That fits. He’s stubborn as an ox,” Evie muttered.

“Mr. Riordan’s quite amiable!” Naomi protested immediately, making Evie wonder whether her friend liked the same man she herself felt something of a partiality toward.

“She meant Creed,” Cora interjected. “Not Riordan.”

“Mr. Kane”—Naomi moved on to mention a man quick with a compliment and flattering smile—“he’s a faller?”

“Why?” Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “Are you falling for him?”

“Worst pun goes to Lacey, now Naomi.” Evie saw the light of battle in the sudden tension lining Lacey’s chin.

“No.” Naomi blushed. “I’m wondering if fallers work in teams. Those two who came with Mr. Williams—they’re fallers, and Mr. Kane has that other fellow who follows him about like a shadow. They’re roughly the same height and size, though Mr. Kane somehow seems larger than Mr. … I can’t recall.”

“Fillmore.” The name sprang to Evie’s lips. “I noticed it, too. He’s the same size as others but seems to shrink around the other men. I keep thinking he should fill more space.”

“Yes, fallers work in teams. It takes two to fell a large tree, trading off for rest periods.” Lacey must have memorized several articles on logging. “It’s best if they’re roughly the same height and strength if they man a whipsaw together.”

“That makes sense. In fact, a lot of things make sense now.” Evie added lemons to her list and tucked it in her apron pocket before heading out the door. “Let’s go find Mr. Draxley.”

With that, they headed for the telegraph office to find the door closed and no one answering their knock. Evie pushed it with her fingertips until it swung open to reveal the office.

Two neat piles of paper, edges perfectly squared, bracketed the telegraph machine. A breakfast tray—plate clean, napkin precisely folded, and cutlery crossed neatly over the top—lay on a side table. If one thing could be said about Mr. Draxley, it was that he possessed a penchant for order.

Or
, Evie added to herself,
that he didn’t wash and return his
dishes
. But both of those faded next to the significance of the sight monopolizing the middle of the room.

“Do you know,” Naomi whispered, “I do believe he’s asleep.”

“Do you know”—Cora giggled—“I do believe his mustache twitches even while he sleeps. Yes, there it goes again!”

“Do you know?” Lacey didn’t whisper. On the contrary, she raised her voice a few notches. “I don’t find it amusing when a man who asks for an increase in salary due to his hectic schedule is found sleeping in his tidy little office.”

“Hmm? What? What, now?” Draxley didn’t startle awake so much as hop to his feet. Adjusting his spectacles, he blinked to find all four of them crowded before him. “Oh, I say. Er … well, yes, madam. In the normal way of things, I’m quite alert. I can assure you of that. It’s only due to the increased demands on my time and abilities I find myself somewhat drained, in spite of my valiant efforts on your behalf. I’ll endeavor to improve.”

“What efforts would those be, Mr. Draxley?” Naomi lifted the edge of the tray with her forefinger then let it fall back to the desk with a small clatter. “Certainly not your dishes.”

“Nor overseeing the men or helping organize the mill,” Cora observed. “In fact, I’ve only spotted him during meals.”

“It’s an interesting question, Mr. Draxley.” Lacey tilted her head as though confused. “Would you enlighten us as to what extra tasks you’ve taken on with our arrival? Aside from placing orders, which falls under typical telegraph duties, of course.”

“The luggage and seeing the men settled.” Peeved, his mustache stopped twitching, showing more personality than the man attached to it. “Coordinating with the conductor …”

“Those were either before or the day after our arrival,” Evie objected. “What of the week since that point? Unexplained fatigue is a matter of medical concern, Mr. Draxley.”

“I’ll rally, madam.” The mustache bristled. “This will not happen again, I promise you that. Now, is there a particular reason for the unexpected pleasure of your visit this morning, or did the
four of you ladies merely drop by on a whim?”

He would have to imply we’ve no reason and operate purely on whim. After we find him asleep at his post, no less. And I’d planned to be gracious about the entire issue
.

“We’ve a few matters to discuss. I’ll leave the matter of your salary to Miss Lyman to address, as that decision rests in the hands of herself and her brother.” Evie didn’t smile, simply met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “My opinion happens to be that a man who sleeps on the job should consider himself fortunate to still be in possession of it, but perhaps you won’t be in possession of it at all. That’s why she’ll go first.”

“You won’t be receiving an increase in salary, Mr. Draxley. If you find this unacceptable, please tender your resignation and we’ll hire someone to fill your position.” Lacey waited.

“In light of the most unusual and humbling circumstances this morning, I cannot argue.” Though his still-bristling mustache told them all he’d like to. “What may I do for you?”

“We’ll need to place a standing weekly order for these items.” Evie slid the list from her pocket and passed it to him. “Please quadruple the first order, so we’ve laid in a good supply against inclement weather or railroad strike, et cetera.”

“I say.” He peered at her list. “Is this the quadrupled order, then a quarter of the same for each following week?”

“No, Mr. Draxley. That’s to be the weekly order, with four times those amounts ordered for this first shipment.” Evie didn’t blame the man for his mistake—it made an enormous order.

“You are aware, Miss Lyman, that Miss Thompson requests”—Draxley adjusted his spectacles and began to drone in a reedy voice—“twenty-seven pounds of flour, twenty of cornmeal, eighteen of sugar, six of butter, ten pounds each of venison, beef, and chicken, five of pork, fifty in fruits and vegetables, and no fewer than seven dozen eggs?”

“Oh, Evie.” Lacey drew in a deep breath. “That much?”

“Per week,” she affirmed. “Though he left out coffee. I’ve
included a section at the bottom I’ll be reordering periodically, separate from the rest, but it needs doing now. An assortment of spices, various preserves and airtights, condensed milk, molasses, raisins, peppermint sticks and honey …”

“How much will all of this cost?” Even Cora, who’d helped in the café, seemed staggered by the sheer volume of the list.

“Somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred dollars a month. Perhaps more, considering transportation costs.” Evie drew a deep breath. “Which is what I told you—twelve dollars a man, apart from the cost to lay in a supply against contingencies.”

“That’s true. Very well, Mr. Draxley. Place four times the order, plus the additional requests today, then work out a standing weekly order for everything else.” Lacey sighed.

“Thank you for your time,” Evie called to Mr. Draxley, ushering the others out the door and down the single step. “We’ll be back regularly!” She shut the door behind them.

“So later we can check on his nap time, but for now we can join Braden before he and Mr. Creed plot anything without us.” Cora knew her far too well for comfort.

“Does anyone get a sneaking suspicion they already have?” Evie couldn’t point out anything in particular, but she somehow knew Creed wouldn’t be content ordering around the workers.
No, that man wants to know everything that goes on here
.

     TWENTY-ONE