To Win Her Heart (9 page)

Levi reached for the paper, his pulse suddenly throbbing in his veins. Just as his fingers brushed the nearest corner, however, Ornery set in to growling. The dog jerked his head toward the shop entrance and barked a warning. Sure enough, a wagon rumbled past the wide double doors and pulled to a stop.

The note would have to wait.

Levi spared a second to caress the side of the paper with one knuckle, then snapped the book shut. Taking care not to scratch the cover, he set it up on the shelf, wishing he could shelve his thoughts of Eden as easily. Moving quickly, he stripped out of his good shirt and hung it on the peg by his washstand. He slid his work shirt over his head and did up the buttons. The cotton, still slightly damp from his morning labors, chilled his skin as he stuffed the tails into his waistband and stretched his suspenders over his shoulders.

A solid-looking fellow hopped down from the driver’s bench and ambled in Levi’s direction. Ornery’s growl thickened in his throat.

“Enough, boy.” Levi rubbed the animal behind the ears with one hand while retrieving his leather apron with the other. He strode forward to meet his customer, tying the apron around his waist as he went.

“Afternoon.” Levi nodded to the man and held out his hand.

The fellow pulled off his tweed flatcap, revealing a shock of orange-red hair and youthful features. His palm met Levi’s. The kid wasn’t more than nineteen or twenty in Levi’s estimation, but his tanned face and strong grip testified to his workman status.

“Good day to ye.” He spoke with a touch of brogue, his sentence lilting up at the end. “I be Duncan McPherson.”

“Levi Grant. What can I do for you, Duncan?”

The lad grinned as if the expression was a habitual part of his countenance. “I bring work if ye’ve the time for it.” He slapped his cap back on his head and tucked his thumbs into the shallow pockets of his black flannel vest. “I’m a driller out at Fieldman’s Quarry, and our smith has all he can handle keepin’ our chisels and bits sharpened. The boss wants two dozen new jumpers made to his specifications by next week, and Wally ain’t got time to fill the order. Some of the gents heard of ye openin’ shop and thought ye might be up for the job. I got a couple o’ jumpers in the wagon in case ye’re nae familiar with the tool.”

“I’m familiar.” Too familiar. Acid climbed up from Levi’s stomach to burn the back of his throat. He swallowed it down and cleared the passage with a rumbled cough. “I’d like to . . . ah . . . take a gander at them, though. Judge the length, diameter, preferred weight.”

“Aye. So ye do ken the tools. The boss man’ll be pleased.” Duncan’s grin widened even farther. “I’ll go fetch the jumpers.” He spun around and loped off. Levi stared after him, but his mind refused to follow.

A quarry? He’d no idea there was a quarry so close to Spencer. Not that the knowledge would have changed his decision. He had no place else to go. But a quarry? The ridges on his back that told the tale of his time in the labor camp at Granite Mountain seemed to suddenly grow nerve endings. His shirt rubbed against them, and vivid memories of the whippings the sergeants doled out crashed through his brain.

Due to his strength and skill with a hammer, Levi consistently met his rock-breaking quota, and since he kept his head down and his mouth shut, he usually escaped the guards’ notice. Until they decided to enlist his aid.

When the guards chose to mete out punishment, they ordered prisoners to hold their fellow convicts down as a way to further demoralize the group. Levi became a favored choice for this duty. At first he refused, thinking to take the licks himself rather than aid the sergeants. He had enough blood on his hands from his fighting days, and his conscience was not eager for more. As expected, the guards awarded him with twenty lashes for his disobedience. The whipping tore up his back, but what the sergeants did next tore up his soul. The man he’d originally been asked to restrain received a second beating on top of his already bloodied flesh in order to teach Levi a lesson. He never refused again.

Duncan strolled through the doors, two long metal rods balanced atop his shoulder. The boring tools clanged against each other softly as he moved. Levi shook off his memories and stepped forward to meet the younger man. Duncan stood the rods on end between them. The shorter of the two reached Levi’s chin, while the other towered well past the top of his head.

“You drill granite?” Levi asked as he picked up the smaller rod. It was flat on the driving end to accommodate hammer strikes and appeared to be made of iron except for the chisel-shaped tip, which would have to be steel to stand up to the force of boring into stone.

“Granite? Nae. Fieldman quarries limestone.” He handed Levi the second jumper to inspect. “Me da cut granite back in Scotland afore the fever took him, but ’round here, limestone’s more common.” He shrugged. “Don’t matter much to me. I’ll drill anything they want so long as they pay me wages. I’d like to dress stones one day like me da instead o’ drilling ’em, but I got to do me time in the pit first.”

Levi ran his hand along the taller jumper, trying not to think of his own father. Had Levi been more like young Duncan and been willing to do his time, the last few years would have turned out much differently. He couldn’t change the past, though. All he could do was move forward. Yet he was reluctant to move forward in a direction that led to a quarry.

“Let me check my bar iron.” Levi carried the jumpers to the back of his shop. The shorter tool was thicker, about an inch and a half in diameter, whereas the longer one was only about seven-eighths of an inch wide. The first also had an iron ball welded to the middle to give it greater weight for when the drillers pounded it into the hole.

Levi took stock of his supply and determined he would have ample iron to complete the project. The income he’d receive from the job would go a long way toward covering his expenses. He might even be able to set a little aside to start saving up for his own place. Filling an order this large in a timely manner would boost his reputation among the townsmen, as well.

So why were his intestines cramping at the idea of taking it on?

It wasn’t as if he were supporting abusive overseers. Duncan looked hale and hearty, with a ready grin that spoke more eloquently than any sworn vow of the favorable working conditions at the local quarry. The labor was no doubt grueling but honest—motivation provided by a fair wage instead of a whip.

Surely a small-scale operation like Fieldman’s Quarry, one he hadn’t even heard of until today, did not use convict labor. While within the prison walls, inmates learned quickly of the different places where they could be leased out. Cotton plantations, railroads, sawmills—all owned by companies looking to save on labor costs without care for the working conditions of the men in their employ. The only reason convicts were sent to Marble Falls to work the quarry at Granite Mountain was because of the push to get stone cut and shipped to Austin for the rebuilding of the capitol. Therefore, it was highly unlikely that anything similar to what he’d experienced was taking place at Fieldman’s.

Maybe if he could keep from visiting the quarry in person, he could supply the tools without reliving his nightmare.

Setting his jaw, Levi circumvented the garden cultivator and pile of chain waiting for him near the forge and rejoined the quarryman. “A dollar fifty for each weighted jumper. One eighty-five for the longer one.”

“Done.” Duncan pushed away from the support beam he’d been leaning against. “Can ye have ’em ready by the end o’ next week?”

Levi mentally tabulated the other jobs he’d already committed to, then estimated the hours needed to complete one of the custom drills. “I think I can manage that. I don’t have a wagon, though. You’ll have to come pick them up.”

“Can do.” Duncan’s grin flared to life again as he reached out to shake Levi’s hand. “Ye’re makin’ me a hero, Mr. Grant. It’s pleased the boss will be, and that’s a fact.”

Levi couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s enthusiasm. “Call me Levi.”

Duncan nodded. “Levi, then. ’Tis a fine name to be carrying.”

Levi shook his head and chuckled softly. “Keep your flattery for the women, Duncan.”

“Why do ye think I’m practicin’?” Duncan winked at him. “I got me a bonny lass to impress. She’s a shy one, but I’m determined to coax her out of hiding.” He wiggled his eyebrows and lifted his knees in a high-stepping jig as he danced his way through the doors, leaving Levi with a hearty dose of laughter rumbling in his chest.

That kid could charm the horns off a bull. Levi doubted the bonny lass would resist for long.

Images of another bonny lass floated through his mind. A lass with mossy green eyes and hair that caught fire when the sun glinted upon her auburn tresses. One with a willowy figure exuding grace and refinement and a smile that set his heart to racing every time she aimed it his way. One who was so far above him, he’d be a fool to pursue her.

Levi’s grip on the jumper rods tightened. His gaze slid past the forge to the shelf along the back wall and the book lying upon its ledge. The note inside called to him, and his foolish heart longed to answer.

But he had work to do—work the Lord had provided. He’d not forsake his responsibilities. The note would keep.

Levi propped the jumpers against the north wall and hefted the thick pile of chain onto the slab at the end of the forge. As his fingers sought out the faulty links, he strove to put Eden from his mind. Not an easy task.

At the end of the day, he finally gave himself permission to collect the book, but as an added exercise in self-discipline, he refrained from opening it until he was alone in his shed at the Barnes’ homestead. Somehow he managed to talk horses with Claude, compliment Georgia’s skillet ham and dried-apple pie, and even launder his work shirt with a borrowed tub and washboard without thinking of the note more than a couple dozen times.

So when he finally sat on his cot, book open in his lap, lantern glowing from its hook in the shed’s ceiling, he wasn’t prepared for the hesitation that suddenly immobilized him.

Anticipation had grown within him as the day progressed until he felt ready to burst. Yet now that the time had come to read Eden’s note, he froze, fearing disappointment. Most likely it merely contained a few friendly words of apology over not urging him to borrow a book sooner. He had no reason to expect more, regardless of the titillating possibilities his imagination had been spoon-feeding his heart all evening.

Castigating himself for making more of things than was warranted, Levi snatched the folded slip of paper and pried it open.

Levi,

Over the course of our brief acquaintance, I’ve deduced that you are a man who prefers to keep his own counsel. While I, on the other hand, enjoy a spirited sharing of ideas, even when those ideas represent opposing perspectives.

He jerked his face toward the ceiling as he blew out a hard breath. It always came down to that, didn’t it? His speech or lack thereof. He didn’t have Duncan McPherson’s glib tongue and never would. As he’d feared, Eden suspected his growing feelings and was kindly pointing out the reasons why they wouldn’t suit.

Of course, he knew why they didn’t suit better than she. Although that knowledge had done precious little to temper his affection.

Was she spoken for? Sherriff Pratt had certainly acted possessive with her on the day he’d found her at the smithy, calling her
darlin’
and shooting Levi warning looks that carried enough heat to scorch a man’s hide. But the thought of Eden with that man made Levi ill. Something about Pratt rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was his heavy-handed manner or his threat to shoot Ornery. Then again, maybe it was just because the man had more right to court Eden than Levi ever would.

Levi closed his eyes and steeled himself as he faced her letter once again. Might as well take his punches like a man. Opening his eyes, he read the rest of the note.

Please feel no pressure to respond, but should you be interested, I would very much like to hear your impressions of the book you are reading. Do you consider Professor Von Hardwigg to be a passionate explorer whose absolute faith and zealous determination lead him to scientific triumph? Or is he a man with an obsession who carelessly endangers his nephew’s life by rushing into an ill-advised expedition without adequate concern for the consequences?

I know you have not yet finished reading this novel, so if you prefer to respond after completing it, I will be happy to wait upon your convenience.

Eden

By the time he reached her signature, Levi’s heart rate had tripled its pace. Far from pushing him away, Eden was actually giving him the chance to deepen their acquaintanceship.

Levi stood so fast, he knocked his head against the lantern. He winced and raised a hand to steady the lamp as he slid out from under it. Two steps took him to the door, but when he pulled it wide, wintry air assaulted his bare chest, reminding him of his inappropriate attire. Grabbing his freshly laundered shirt from where it hung across the back of the room’s single chair, he pulled it over his head, not caring that the wet cotton suctioned to his skin like an icy leech.