Rugged and Relentless (38 page)

When Jake could lie still no longer, he slipped his boots onto his feet and walked outside. A circle of the women’s house revealed nothing amiss. No lights flickering, no cries of distress, no windows or doors flung open to indicate intruders.

But the feeling remained. So Jake did what any man of sense would. He scaled the nearest tree positioned between the house and the men’s quarters and kept watch. If no trouble showed itself, he suffered no more than a sleepless night. But if—

Jake’s thoughts ground to a halt as he heard the sound of footsteps. He shifted, ready to jump at a moment’s notice. That’s when he spotted them. Four men, bundled in jackets and hats as they crept toward the house, whispers carrying on a suddenly subdued breeze. It was as though the entire mountain listened along with Jake as the mysterious figures spoke.

“Pretty little Lacey Lyman’s mine, and no switching. Once we make women out of ’em, they have to marry us.”

“No need to get shackled when you can enjoy someone else’s. Engaged girls know what’s what, and she’ll need a real man now that her fiancé’s an invalid.” Snickers met the crude comment.

Jake gripped the branch so hard his hands bled, but it wasn’t time to leap. They weren’t close enough. Yet.

“I don’t think any of ‘em is decent women. Only trollops prance around these parts without a man, but the best ones know we like a little chase. Prissy Higgins is mine.”

“We’ll know the truth after we take their hair down and let loose.” The first one rubbed his hands together before he added, “Creed’s not abed, so you might have to wait, Tom. Plain to see which woman he fancies, though I can’t see why.”

“After chopping logs all day, some of us don’t want twigs in our beds. There’s nothing better than a nice, soft—” The fourth man never got a chance to finish.

Jake leapt from his perch and slammed the man’s head into the trunk. He crumpled without another word. By the time Jake planted his fist in another’s face, the other two got over their
surprise. A punch to the stomach made Jake double over, so he plowed his head into the man’s gut and took him down.

From that point, he stopped thinking. Jake couldn’t say how long the fight would have lasted—until they’d taken him down or he’d finished beating them so bloody they’d never touch another woman, most likely—if they hadn’t made such a racket they woke up half the town. Which, in turn, woke up the other half.

Several things happened almost simultaneously. First, the windows to the house opened, and a cacophony of female shrieks and wails rent the night. Right after that began, but while it continued—because the women didn’t stop caterwauling until long after the fists stopped flying—Riordan came barreling over in his bare feet to do battle alongside Jake.

Jake pulled back his arm and smashed the full force behind it into the heel of his palm, connecting with the nose of the opponent before him. As the man went down, blubbering, Jake saw Riordan simply lift the final fighter into the air and send him crashing into a nearby wall before trotting off to retrieve him. With that, the brouhaha ended as swiftly as it started.

Or it would have ended there, but every man circled around, suddenly keen to be a valiant protector. Questions abounded; boasts of how others would have handled things filled the air until not even all the knives in Evie’s kitchen could cut through the bluster. Scuffles over who threw a better punch started to break out until Mrs. Martha McCreedy arrived.

“Get back in the bunkhouse, the whole lot o’ ye.” She assessed the situation in a single glance. “Creed and Riordan took care o’ matters. Mr. Klumpf will kindly fetch the doctor.”

No one moved. Jake felt fairly certain, since only one of his eyes was swelled shut. “You heard her,” he yelled. “Get to bed or you’ll all be worthless tomorrow, and we’ll have four fewer workers as it stands. Besides”—he resorted to blackmail—“if you keep the ladies awake any longer, you’ll be making breakfast for yourselves.” That got them moving, if slowly.

For a pleasant change, the women didn’t rush headlong into the melee. Instead, they waited until the men cleared out before bustling Jake into the house. He only went because two of the four offenders remained unconscious, one of them the man who’d had his eye on Evie. For that reason, Jake let Riordan truss up the criminals while he withstood the doctor’s fussing.

Withstood, shooed away … what difference did it make? “I’ve had worse,” Jake assured the women when the doctor slammed his black bag shut and stormed out the door. “Split knuckles, a black eye, a few bruised ribs—pass me some witch hazel, and I’ll be fine in a couple days.”
Unlike the men on the other side of those knuckles
. He indulged in a grim smile.

“I won’t ask if you’re all right.” Evie’s face entered his line of vision. “Obviously you’ll be fine since you’re as stubborn as ever, refusing to let the doctor look at that eye.” She scolded and fussed the entire time she smoothed his hair back to lay a cool compress over that very eye.

Though she, like the other women, had donned a dressing gown over her night rail and was swathed from neck to foot in layers of fabric, there was something far too intimate about the gesture. Especially at night, and especially when her hair swung down her back in a long, saucy braid whose tip curled lovingly along her arm. Evie looked far too inviting.

Jake circled a hand around her wrist when she looked ready to adjust the compress. He thought only to stop her. Instead, the contact stopped his thoughts. Aside from the day they’d met, and the time he’d jumped through the window and gotten tangled in the curtain, almost knocking her over, he’d never let himself touch Evie. Not once.

And he never should have.

She shouldn’t have touched him. Evie knew it the moment her fingertips brushed his forehead to whisk an errant lock of hair out
of the way. The heat of him nearly burned her. But like a moth to a flame, she fluttered back, only to be caught.

And when the strength of Jake Creed’s long fingers closed over her wrist, unintentionally pushing up the sleeve of her dressing gown, Evie feared she might hear a sizzle. Awareness of the contact streaked through her, scrambling her thoughts and holding her captive long after he released her.

In fact, he let go so quickly, Evie wondered whether he felt any of the same reaction. Warmth flooded her cheeks at the idea until she turned to hide the telltale blush. Fumbling, she passed him the witch hazel he’d requested, along with a towel.

It gave her just enough time to recover before Mr. Riordan and Mr. Klumpf strode through the door. Riordan looked none the worse for wear despite having joined Jake in the fight.

Everyone adjourned to the dining room, the only room with enough chairs to accommodate all of them. Evie could only be thankful Mrs. McCreedy insisted on taking Arla home with her for the remainder of the night—there’d been too much excitement for a woman in her condition already, and none of them was willing to wait to learn the details of what had happened. Before the brawl itself, naturally. They saw that firsthand.

“Where are they?” Creed directed the question to Riordan.

“Ach.” The Irishman’s face went thundery. “I trussed ‘em good an’ tight and tossed the lot in an old privy shack, then barred the privy door from t’ outside. I found it fitting.”

Evie choked back her laughter.
Until I know what these men did to deserve their fate, I shouldn’t laugh at it
. She could almost imagine standing before an enormous blackboard, chalk in hand, writing the same sentence over and over again.
“It’s not amusing to lock someone in the privy.”

Creed held no such compunction. He threw back his head and roared at Riordan’s punishment. When he caught his breath, he clapped the other man on the shoulder. “That should hold them.” As swiftly as it came, his amusement fled. “Though they deserve
far worse. We’ll need to call the authorities. Press charges.”

“I dragged Draxley out of bed to send a telegram.” Mr. Klumpf gave a satisfied nod. “Those men will be gone tomorrow.”

“Lucky for them.” A dark gleam lit Creed’s eye. Only the one, since the other remained swelled shut and would for much longer than necessary since the fool wouldn’t hold his compress over it. “If they stayed any longer, their fellow loggers would want to go a round or two before handing them over for lawful justice.”

“I assumed as much.” Riordan’s voice rumbled low enough to mimic an earthquake. “When the lassies shrieked like banshees, I feared the worst. ’Tis glad I am you intervened, Creed.”

“Banshees!” Lacey’s screech didn’t give lie to the label.

“Aye. ‘Tis said they wail and scream a terrible warning.” Riordan’s green eyes took on a teasing light. “And can appear as uncommonly beautiful women if they take on the notion.”

“Oh, well, that’s not so bad.” Lacey settled back.

“Irish superstitions aside”—Evie wanted to direct the conversation back to the events of the evening—“could someone tell us why you and those four were out wandering tonight, Mr. Creed? And what did they do to deserve such a sound thrashing and”—she paused, quelling another inappropriate chuckle before managing to finish—“unconventional form of imprisonment?”

“They came for you.” Creed answered two questions in four words, none of them yes or no. In another situation, such a feat might have been deemed impressive. But not now. Creed seemed to sense that they awaited more of an explanation, as he generously doubled his response. “So I stopped them.”

Perhaps
, Evie wondered,
when a man resorts to using his fists, he temporarily loses the ability to express himself through words? It’s either the visceral or the cerebral? But if he gives no reason, he’s broken the law and has to leave
.

“We noticed that you stopped them, Mr. Creed.” Cora gave him a bemused look. “We even assumed it had something to do with their proximity to the house?”

His nod verified the assumption but added nothing more, forcing the women to pry further.

“Did you originally make up one of their party, and something went wrong?” Naomi took a wild guess as to why, of five men strolling through the dark, only one still stood.

Or at least retained his ability to stand, in any case. The hope behind her question made Evie wince. Apparently she wasn’t the only one desperate for any reason but the worst.

“Nope.”

“Mr. Riordan, can you explain?” Lacey’s exasperation shone through her attempt at making it a polite request.

“Well, miss, I only joined in after the wailing began, so I ken that the four o’ ye saw more than Rory Riordan.” He frowned.

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Evie abandoned trying to be polite. It was late. She was tired. Four battered men slumped in an outhouse somewhere nearby with no explanation, and Creed needed to start talking. “Stop being vague and tell us what happened!”

Everyone’s eyes went big, but smiles bloomed around the table.

“You know what you need to.” Creed’s jaw thrust forward. Or maybe it, too, was swelling. Either way, he wasn’t talking.

“I know you and four men were involved in a brawl. I know we’ve given you the opportunity to explain yourself, and you’ve declined.” Evie planted her palms on the table and stood. “I know I’m to look at a man’s actions. The laws we set down for Hope Falls state that any man brawling in town will be escorted to the train, and since you’ve given us no reason to make an exception, it must stand.”
Words are important, too
. She kept from saying this last by a slim margin.

The other women started to gasp, recognized her intent, and began setting their expressions. Nods, crossed arms, and regretful sighs circled the table as Mr. Creed looked about. If he thought he’d find a soft heart to sway, he’d underestimated their curiosity. Evie knew her friends better than he could.

Riordan and Klumpf stared at them all, incredulous, but held their peace. Whether they waited to see which side gave way, or to be given the order to escort Creed to the train, Evie couldn’t say. Either way, it worked in her favor.

“Especially after an upset like this, every effort must be made to maintain order,” Lacey chimed in. “You understand.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I walked around to see if anything looked out of the ordinary. Nothing stood out at first, but over by the tree I heard footsteps.” Creed’s good eye narrowed, and the swollen one seemed to darken into a more livid bruise. “All I needed to hear were a few comments to know what they planned.”

Silence reigned again as Evie, along with everyone else, waited for him to explain just what the four men planned.
Please tell me it’s not what I think. Give me another reason
.

But Creed snapped his jaw shut.

“That explains why you were there,” Evie prodded, “but not why the others were, nor the reason behind your actions.”

“Some things a man doesn’t like to mention to ladies,” Mr. Klumpf broke in, darting a glance at Creed. “I suspect that’s the case here, and Mr. Creed’s doing right not to offend you.”

“Is that the way o’ it?” The question came on a breath, the answer a ghost of a nod between Riordan and Creed. “So be it.” Riordan turned to them. “Those men planned to harm you ladies. Sneaking around in the middle of the night, heading to your home while everyone slept, ‘tis the logical conclusion, and I lend my support to Mr. Creed. I assure you the other men would agree.”