Broken Promises (5 page)

"I'll tell it as it is," Zak said. "I hired you to take me up because the park plane's out of commission. I'll give you a check right now to pass on to him. That should square things away."

"Fine, you can give me a check," Tess said, "but I still want to talk to him alone. The doctor said he shouldn't even be at camp, and I don't want him losing his temper, which will happen if you're around." She got in the Jeep and slammed the door.

Zak climbed into the passenger seat, and said, "I'll have to talk to him eventually. We still have the property line to settle."

"I told you I'd pay for the trees," Tess said as she was pulling out of the parking lot.

"That's fine," Zak replied, "but if the location of the property line isn't settled soon, your father will be right back cutting trees, and my father will slap him with a law suit.”

Tears of anger and frustration burned Tess's eyes. "I wish they'd get off each other's backs," she said, gripping the wheel.

"So do I," Zak replied. "But that's not going to happen."

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into Zak's drive and stopped, but left the engine running. Zak opened the door and jumped down, then peered across the passenger seat, and said, "For whatever it's worth, thanks for taking me up, but I wish you'd let me explain to your father. I feel responsible for what happened."

"Well, actually, you're not," Tess conceded, in a less contentions tone. "If my father had been servicing the plane regularly we wouldn't have had a broken hose, so he'll have some explaining to do too."

Zak stepped aside and Tess backed around and drove to her cabin, where she changed into work clothes, grabbed her hard hat, and headed to the compound. There, she learned that her father had taken a couple of men to where the four trees had been cut, so she immediately went to find out what was going on.

In the clearing near the property line, she spotted her father standing near Sean Herring, who was limbing a downed tree. When she looked beyond the men, her heart thumped in dismay. Stacked in a pile were the four logs he'd cut the week before, but now, four more had been dragged onto the clearing.

"Damn!" she said in an exasperated voice. Jumping from the Jeep, she rushed over to her father, and said, "What are you doing, Dad? This is not Timber West land!"

"The hell it's not," Gib replied. "I know my own land."

Realizing it was pointless to argue with him about the trees, Tess turned the focus on his health. "You're not supposed to be here," she said. "You know what the doctor told you."

Leveling angry eyes on her, he said, "Somebody's got to run the camp."

"Didn't Swenson show up?"

"I'm surprised you'd ask," Gib clipped.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're pretty quick to go flying off with that damn Basque and leave the whole operation to run itself!"

"It was a business arrangement," Tess said, in a restrained voice.

Gib's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware you operated a flying service."

"Zak paid me to fly him over some eagle nests," Tess replied, her heart hammering rapidly.

"So you fly because he says fly, then ditch the plane and spend the night with--"

"I didn't spend the night
with
Zak. We stayed with Ralph Tolsted," Tess replied. "And the plane's back at the airpark."

Pinning her with irate eyes, Gib said, "Why the hell is he back anyway?"

"He's working at the wildlife park," Tess replied.

"Or maybe he just likes the young girls around here better."

Tess's fingers curled into her palms. "I'm tired of your cutting remarks about Zak," she said, trying to hold her temper. "I loved him and he loved me, and he wasn't some kind of pervert."

Gib flailed a hand in the air. "You were too young to know what you wanted so you let that no-count sheepherder crawl in your bed by promising to make legal what never should have happened in the first place."

"I was seventeen!"
Tess cried.

"Just barely!"
Gib fired back. He drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

Tess reached for his arm. "Dad? You okay?"

Gib opened his eyes again, and continued in a low voice, "A lot of years have separated us, and if I could, I'd give my soul to have those years back. But if it came down to letting the daughter, who was my entire life, go off with a man whose only goal was to get her into his bed, and I had it within my power to prevent it, I'd do the same thing again, so help me God, I would."

As Tess looked into her father's tired eyes, she felt the pain he must have suffered because of her, and for the first time in years, she put her arms around him and buried her face against his chest, and said, "Can we start over... try to recover what we threw away?"

"How?" Gib asked.

"By discussing Zak objectively."

Gib mumbled his disapproval.

"That's part of our problem," Tess said, releasing him. "When you're angry, you don't talk. You mumble or walk away. We need to talk about this."

"Well, I can't pretend I'm glad Zak de Neuville's back."

"I know," Tess said. "But he is, and you'll have to get used to that."

"I'm not sure I can."

"Can you at least try, for us? You and me, not for Zak and me.”

Gib gave a weary sigh and looked at her. "It's really important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tess replied. "I want us to understand each other, and the only way we can do that is to stop tippy-toeing around the subject of Zak. We're quick to fight and argue about him, but we've never discussed him in an objective way."

"Okay then," Gib said. "Start by answering one question. Do you still love him?"

Tess shrugged. "I don't know him any more. It's been seven years, we've both been married and Zak has a son. Even if did love him, I'm not sure I'm up to being an instant mother. Besides, Zak's family still expects him to marry a Basque woman."

"But you cared enough to take him up in the plane."

"Only because he asked me to. He's head of the threatened and endangered species program at the wildlife park and he's working with eagles," Tess explained. "That's why he asked me to fly him over nest sites. If the oil line on the plane hadn't broken, or if there'd been a spare in the tool box, we would've been back yesterday. When that hose broke it sent oil all over the windscreen, and we came a heartbeat away from crashing. I don't know why you even keep the plane. You rarely fly anymore, and the plane's expensive to fly and maintain, and Timber West is operating in the hole, and it just seems like it's time to sell the plane."

"Well I'm not ready to sell," Gib said, in a firm voice.

And Tess knew that was the end to that discussion. But at least Zak's return was out in the open. "Now, about those eight trees," she said, motioning toward the stack of logs. "They were cut on Zak's father's land."

"Like hell they were," Gib said. "Our land runs forty feet beyond where the trees were cut."

"The survey map shows clearly that--"

"Enough about the trees!" Gib broke in. "They're on my land and I intend to keep cutting."

Tess knew it was senseless to argue with her father, deciding it would take a court order to stop him, which was out of her hands. But running the camp wasn't. Dropping the subject of the trees she said, "You didn't say if Swenson showed up today. Did he?"

"He did just before I left camp to come here," Gib replied. "He said he would have come earlier but he had some personal business to tend to."

"Personal business?" Tess said, with irony. "Look, Dad, I can't run a logging operation with a woods boss who refuses to work for me. I don't know why we even keep him on if this is the way he operates."

"He worked fine for me," Gib said. "I suggest you give him the benefit of the doubt and see what he has to say."

Tess took in a long breath through flared nostrils, and said, "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, then I'll give him his last paycheck."

"Suit yourself," Gib replied, "but I hope you have someone in mind to replace him."

"I'll figure out something," Tess said. "Now, will you please go home. I'll stop by in a few days so we can go over the books and do the monthly report."

"Umm," Gib responded.

Tess walked with him back to his truck and kissed him on the cheek. "I've got the chess board set up," she said as he went to open the door.

Gib's face broke into a smile. "Is that a challenge?"

Tess couldn't help smiling back. "Sure, if you think you're ready to take me on again."

"I can take you on anytime, kiddo," he said. "There's one thing an old chess player never does and that's to tell his prize student about all the plays." He turned and climbed into the truck.

Tess laughed. "I may have a few plays of my own tucked away," she said, stepping back as he started the engine.

When his truck turned out of the clearing and disappeared, Tess yelled to Herring over the buzz of a chain saw, "Pass the word around, Herring. Absolutely no more cutting around here, even if my father gives the order. Is that clear?" Herring nodded and turned off the saw.

And Tess returned to her Jeep and headed for the compound and Jed Swenson. She didn't care what his excuse was, it was time to assert her authority.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Come on you bucks," Curt Broderick bellowed, "put your money here. Who'll step down, Swenson, or TJ?"

"She's one tough cookie, that TJ," yelled Mac Royer, a solid hulk of a man who closely resembled a gigantic smiling bulldog.

"But she's no match for Swenson," Curt said. "I don't think it's who, but how long till TJ steps down."

A voice blared from across the room as a coin clanked to the floor and spun at Curt's feet. "A quarter says she'll last one more day."

Curt crouched over the coin. "A lousy quarter? Come on men, ante-up, make it worthwhile. Let's see some
greeeeen
!"

A dollar bill floated down.

"That the best you can do Pryor? How 'bout a five."

Pryor switched a one for a five.

"That's more like it," Curt said. "Place your bets, men. Winner takes all."

"One day," a voice called out.

"I hear a ‘one day’," Curt said. "Take this down Royer."

Hands tossed crumpled bills into the circle.

"I'll give her five days."

"Five days for Dempsey."

"Two days!"

"Two days for Royer. Anyone for a week? One whole week? Come on you guys--"

A knife blade flashed through the air and buried with a
thunk
in the floor of the cook shack. The men looked up into the narrowed eyes of Jed Swenson. "That's for forty-five seconds." He crouched, yanked the knife from the floorboard and stabbed it through a five-dollar bill. Teetering back on his heels, he scratched a fingernail against the stubble on his chin, and said, "It'll be a cold day in hell when I let a woman tell me how to do my job, and you boys can tell
that
to
Mizzz
O'Reilly."

"You can tell me yourself." Tess stood in the doorway, eyes focused on the big man. She walked over to where he crouched. The voices died as Swenson rose, hooked his thumbs in his belt, and glared sown at her. Propping her hands on her hips, Tess glared back. "To whom do I owe this great pleasure?"

Swenson scratched his head. "Hey! You're head honcho here. You
oughta
know your own woods boss." Subdued snickers rippled, then died.

Tess surveyed the crowd. Gradually, their faces sobered. She turned to focus on Swenson's narrowed, defiant eyes. "The elusive Jed Swenson, I presume."

Swenson hitched up his britches with a satisfied snort. "You presumed right." His jaws moved over the chew of tobacco in his mouth.

"Mr. Swenson, I'd like to see you in my office," Tess said, holding his gaze.

Swenson glanced around, tobacco-stained teeth emerging from a twisted smile. "There's nothing needs saying in your office that can't be said right here in front of my men."

Tess faced Swenson squarely. "Fine then. First off, they're not your men, you're not running this camp. You're hired to direct cutting at the site and operate the skidder. You'll take your orders from me, and when I tell you to be somewhere, I expect you to be there. Is that clear?"

For an instant, Swenson's jaws stopped moving. Then he let out a snicker, and said, "Hell, lady, you couldn't be clearer."

"All right then, where were you on Friday?" Tess asked.

Swenson hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "I had to go to my grandmother's funeral."

Tess drew in an impatient breath. "Where were you this morning when you were told to start the men cutting pole timber?"

"I had to--" Swenson gave her a belligerent smile "--get my teeth cleaned." He launched a spate of tobacco juice at the floor in front of her feet.

Tess acknowledged the splatter, then said to Swenson, "Very well then, you can pack your gear. You're through." She turned and looked around at the men. "And if anyone else wants to clean their teeth on company time, don't hesitate to follow Mr. Swenson right out that door."

Swenson folded his arms and peered down at her. A brown bead collected at one corner of his mouth and sputtered into the air as he said, "You're pretty damned high-handed for a woman."

Tess's eyed him with disdain. "Your paycheck will be at the office at quitting time. Good day, Mr. Swenson."

Swenson's lips twisted in a sneer, then he scanned the men, the sneer fading as each, in turn, looked away. Fury rising in his face, he turned to Tess and said, "I'll give you about one day to come begging me to run your damn camp." He yanked his knife from the floor and charged out of the cook shack.

Tess stared at the open door. A gut feeling told her she'd not seen the last of Jed Swenson. She turned to the men. "Anyone here had any experience as woods boss?"

Curt Broderick squared his thick shoulders and nodded.

"Think you can handle the job here?"

Curt's lips curved in a confident smile. "Oh, sure."

"Good!
 
Now we'll need a skidder driver to replace Swenson. Anyone have any experience?"

Harv
Demsey
stood. "I've done some, It's been a few years though."

"Good. Meet me at the ridge in thirty minutes and we'll see what you can do."

***

Two days later, Tess realized
Harv
Dempsey wouldn't work out. More than once she had to call him down for not wearing his safety belt, and she also noticed the jerky, erratic movement of the skidder when he drove. Concerned, she headed toward the cutting area, prepared to pull him off the skidder and put him back on cutting and limbing. But as she drove up the dirt road, she spotted a large sign nailed to the gate where Timber West land met the north slope tract, a road they used when hauling pole logs from the ridge. Pulling the Jeep to a halt, she read the words painted across the wood surface:
ROYALTY ON ALL LOGS CROSSING THIS PROPERTY IS $10 PER THOUSAND.
The notice was signed:
J. de Neuville-Owner; J. Swenson-Manager.

Tess stared at the sign. Jean-Pierre de Neuville, owner? Carl Yaeger was supposed to have bought the tract. And Swenson was manager of Zak's father's land? This was all she needed. Having to cross Jean-Pierre de Neuville's land would not sit well with her father, nor would the increased log royalty. Timber West had never paid more than a dollar per thousand board feet to cross that land. Her father would be livid.

Zak warned her that there might be problems because of the trees her father cut. Zak was right. His father was collecting for the trees through the raised royalty. She revved the engine and the Jeep bolted forward. Well, she'd pay Jean-Pierre de Neuville's royalty. The timber on the ridge would more than cover it. It was prime pole timber.

By the time she pulled into the clearing where the men were working, her palms throbbed from gripping the wheel, and her clenched jaws ached. She spotted Curt Broderick coming toward her, a chainsaw in his hand. "I guess you saw de Neuville's notice?" he said.

Tess hopped out of the Jeep. "Oh yes."

Curt set the chain saw on the ground. "Swenson came by earlier... claims he's working the north end of de Neuville's place near the ridge. It wouldn't surprise me if real trouble started soon. Swenson doesn't take lightly to being put down in front of the men, especially by a woman, nothing personal intended."

"I know," Tess said, "but we'll handle things as they come."
 

Curt grabbed the chain saw and walked back to where he'd been limbing, and Tess leaned against a tree, folded her arms, and watched
Harv
Dempsey on the skidder, pushing logs. He took too many passes to position the big machine, and when she heard him grind the gears, she walked toward him and motioned for him to stop. She also realized he wasn't wearing his safety belt again. "Dempsey, you've been told several times that wearing a safety belt is required in this operation," she said.

"It's too much hassle when I have to keep getting on and off," Dempsey replied.

"That may be," Tess said, "but we can't chance the liability. Thanks for trying, and don't feel bad about it, but I'm putting you back on cutting and limbing. Your saw's in my Jeep." She motioned to Curt, and when he walked over to where she stood, she said, "I interviewed a skidder driver over the phone earlier and he'll be here in the morning. Meanwhile, you keep the men working and I'll handle the skidder myself."

"You?"

 
"Don't look so surprised," Tess said, then headed toward the skidder. It had been years since she'd operated the big machine, and looking at it now, she felt a renewed sense of excitement. Hinged in the middle with the back wheels turning independently from the front, whenever she operated it she felt like she was riding a giant double-jointed bug. She climbed the steps to the enclosed cab, swung up onto the seat and fastened her safety belt. Adjusting her hard hat and smiling, she turned the key and pressed the starter button. Before the big machine moved out, Curt motioned to her."Hey, TJ," he yelled over the sound of the engine.

Tess peered down from her lofty perch. "Yes?"

"I forgot to tell you. When Swenson was here earlier, he made some threats. Want me to sort of keep an eye on him for you?"

Tess looked at Curt with apprehension. "What kind of threats?"

"Nothing specific," Curt replied, "just said you'd be hearing from him."

"Well, maybe you'd better go back to camp and watch things there for the afternoon," she said. "I'll move the logs to the landing and meet you there later."

Trying to shove thoughts of Jed Swenson from her mind, Tess put the skidder in gear, took the wheel, and pulled on the throttle. For now, she intended to ride this giant bug.

***

Zak pulled his truck into the clearing and found Tess standing beside the skidder, mopping dust from her face and neck with a towel. She made no move as he walked toward her, even when he reached out to wipe a smudge from her face and pick forest debris from her hair. "You look like the Tess I remember," he said.

Tess laughed. "I guess it's my lot in life to look like a woodland nymph." Her face flushed, and Zak knew she was thinking what he was thinking. "How did it go with your father?" he asked, while trying to shove aside the image of Tess in the grotto as
his little woodland nymph
, as he'd called her when they were naked there. Memories that were hard to repress when she was in his presence.

"Amazingly well, after the storm passed," Tess replied. Then her face sobered, and she said, "Why didn't you say anything about your father buying the tract between Timber West and the ridge?"

Zak shrugged. "I thought you knew."

"I didn't, and neither does my father yet... or about your father raising the royalty on our road. My father will go ballistic. Raising the royalty might just be enough to make Timber West fold, which would make your father happy, so he could buy this land too."

"I admit, he'd like to buy out Timber West, if only to stop your father from cutting trees on his land," Zak said. "That's one of the problems between those two. Your father's too bullheaded to admit he's wrong about the trees and the property line, so he simply refuses to look at the survey map. Well, he's going to end up in court and get slapped with a huge figure for settlement if he continues cutting. You
are
aware that six more trees are down, aren't you?"

"Six?" Tess said, her heartbeat quickening. "I knew four more had been cut, but I gave specific orders that no more were to be cut on that strip. Who cut the other two?"

"I don't know," Zak replied. "Swenson dragged them over onto our place. He and your new woods boss had a scuffle over them."

"Curt? Swenson and Curt had a fight?" Tess said, surprised. She never would have made Curt woods boss if she thought he'd resolve things with fists.

"It was more verbal than physical," Zak said. "Swenson accused Broderick of cutting the trees, and I guess that didn't sit too well with Broderick."

"Well, I'm sure Curt didn't cut the trees," Tess said. "The question is, who did?"

"Swenson insisted it was your man... said he heard the chainsaw, and when he got there, no one was around but Broderick. And Broderick claims Swenson was the only person in the area, that he saw Swenson hooking a cable to his Cat and dragging one of the trees over to where the others lay right after it was cut," Zak replied.

"That doesn't make sense," Tess said, a perplexed frown creasing her brow. "Regardless of what Swenson says, Curt didn't do it. Swenson made threats earlier today. He's still mad about losing his job. I think he cut the trees and is trying to blame it on Curt."

"Swenson's pretty hot headed from what I hear," Zak admitted.

"He's more than hotheaded," Tess said. "I think he's capable of doing almost anything."

 
Zak rested his hand on her shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry my father's bringing on more problems. I doubt if I can budge him on the royalty, but I'll see what I can do to get him to back off about the trees until this is squared away."

"That's the problem," Tess said. "It might not be squared away until half the trees are down. I get so frustrated because of my father's stubbornness." Dipping her shoulder to dislodge Zak's hand, she backed away from him and slapped at her jeans, sending little clouds of dust puffing into the air. When she looked up and caught him smiling, she said, "What's so amusing?"