The boat rocked and swayed with the rhythm of the ocean; enough to induce seasickness in even the most stalwart sailor. Charity Hamilton pulled her blanket up over her mouth and prayed that the waves of nausea threatening to overcome her would subside. Of course, the constant dampness of the wool blanket caused it to have a nauseating smell of its own, and Charity could already see that it was going to be another long day.

The Silver Winds, skippered by Captain Cornelius Adamson, was an old vessel, and the accommodations were barely adequate. The decks were rough, the sails patched poorly and the condition of the head was not even worth discussing. Captain Adamson seemed not to notice the condition of his ship, and often led Mr. Hamilton on long tours on her inner workings. The cook was a skinny young man named Harley. Charity thought this should have been a clear sign to her parents that this was not going to be the best voyage of their lives...a skinny cook??

But there was no use complaining, as she could never out-complain her mother, and her father was so excited to have this chance to start again that he did not notice Charity’s anguish. She tossed off the blanket and swung her feet over the edge of the bed, careful not to bang her head on the top bunk where her brother William lay snoring. The room they were sharing was just that, a room with two bunk beds and four walls and not much else. Charity was sure if Willie laid down crosswise, his head would bump the door to the deck, while his feet would kick the covers off of her bed. And he was only twelve.

“It will be very exciting, to start over in a new city!” Her father, his voice tight with excitement, told them at the dinner table two months ago. His silver mine in Tucson had never panned out, so they needed to move along again. “George Stempel is offering us a way out, and we are going to take it!” her father cried, banging his fist on the table for emphasis. Charity could not believe her ears. Her father was planning on moving them lock, stock and barrel to someplace called Seattle in Washington territory. Not that life in Tucson was any bowl of cherries, it was getting pretty deserted there, due to all of the problems with the Indians, but this Seattle sounded like it was located precisely at the end of the earth.

A sharp lurch of the ship jolted her back to her present reality. Not a place she particularly wanted to be. Sitting up, she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and made her way to the head. She could see her father and Captain Adamson at the ship’s prow, and the captain was pointing at something out over the water. She hurried downstairs to attend to her morning toilette, such as it was. A quick splash of water on her face, some more water to rinse her mouth, and an even quicker trip to the facilities. Somehow, the stench of the facilities, along with the salty tasting water she washed and rinsed with had infiltrated her sinuses to the extent that it seemed normal. The four weeks on this ship had made her long for even the barren terrain of Arizona. First there was the long trip

over land from Tucson to Los Angeles by wagon and stage, where she thought she would kill both of her parents and throw Willie out the door for fun by the end. Then this endless trip. “Water, water and more water, and not a drop to drink,” was the old rhyme, and Charity could see the truth in it.

Quietly creeping back to her room, she slipped on her tattered blue dress, noticing that it hung limply on her shoulders after two months of eating traveling food. Wrapping herself up in the blanket again, she decided to see what was cooking for breakfast. The smell of fried eggs filled her nostrils as she approached the galley. Harley turned to her and smiled his crooked smile. He couldn’t have been that much older than her, but, with two days worth of stubble on his chin and two teeth missing, it was hard to tell.

“G’morning Miss Charity,” still smiling, he placed a steaming plate of eggs and porridge in front of her. He always stood a little too close to her, and this morning was no exception. She could see the dirt around his fingernails, and smell the grease embedded in his unwashed apron.

“Hello Harley.” Quickly, she averted her eyes and concentrated on her food.

Soon, the rest of her family appeared. First Willie, in all his gangly glory. Dark floppy hair, dark eyes and buck teeth, that was Willie. Nothing bothered him. Whether playacting on the deck, or trailing various members of the crew, he existed in his own world of battling pirates and warring Indians. Mostly, he kept away from her, and for that she was eternally grateful.

Then her mother arrived. Jeannetta Hamilton was beautiful on the outside, but otherwise cold and hard. One failed business venture after another had made her as bitter as Harley’s coffee. She couldn’t understand why everyone just didn’t behave like they were supposed to. Or like she thought they should, the two thoughts interchangeable to her. As she did every morning, she presented her cheek for her daughter to kiss. Charity gave it a perfunctory kiss, just as she did every morning. Her mother did not kiss her back..

“Good morning, Mother,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. She glanced over to see if she could read her mother’s mood for today. Judging from the shape of her pursed mouth, it was not going to be a good day.

“Good morning Charity.” Jeannetta answered with all the emotion one would use to talk to the local milkman. Harley placed her food down and waited for the inevitable comment. Today, though, Mrs. Hamilton was silent. Charity watched as she carefully cut one slice of egg and put it into her mouth, all the while staring straight ahead. Only Willie’s squirming could get a rise out of her. “Willie!” she said sharply. “Eat your breakfast and stop all that wiggling at the table.” Willie immediately fell silent.

Charity knew it was time to go. Quickly, she folded her napkin, placed it on the table, picked at a new splinter and left the room.

She found her usual perch on the starboard side of the ship, always on the lookout for land. Captain Adamson said it could come up anytime now. She

thought about her best friend, Crystal, left behind in Tucson. Her father had gotten out of silver mining at the right time and bought a cattle ranch. He made some peace with the Indians and they were prospering. Charity began composing yet another letter to her friend, to go with the other 10 waiting to be mailed when they reached their destination.

Dear Crystal,I’m still on this horrible ship, although the captain says it should be soon

that we reach port. I miss you terribly. I can’t believe that I’ve been stuck with no one to talk to for so long now. Willie is a waste of my time, and, well, you know my parents.

My father says that this will be our last move. I can’t really believe it, but I guess a girl can hope. I’m sick that we have to depend on George Stempel’s charity, but what else could we do? You remember the Stempels, don’t you? Mr. Stempel and his son, Aaron? Father keeps reminding me that Aaron and I were friends once upon a time. I don’t remember it quite like that, I remember that he was a skinny kid with really dark hair. He was pretty quiet, not much for conversation. But then, who could get a word in edgewise with his father around.

Anyway, I can’t believe I’m seventeen now and we are moving to the end of the earth. I wonder if there are going to be any eligible men? Why couldn’t my father decide to move to San Francisco, or New York, or Boston or even back to Charlotte? I guess some would say Tucson was the end of the earth. But I found it to be just fine. Well, that’s all for now. Say hello to Ellen for me.Most affectionately, your friend forever, Charity Hamilton

“So, Captain Adamson, you think that little spot up there is Seattle?” Philip Hamilton squinted his eyes and trained them somewhere off in the distance.

“Yep. That’s the Puget Sound alright.” the old captain snorted and lobbed a gob of spittle over the side of the ship. “By my calculations, we should be there by nightfall. Right on schedule, I might add.” He added another gob of spittle. Charity often wondered if the ocean would be a few feet less deep if Captain Adamson didn’t keep refilling it with his saliva.

“Well, that’s good news then.” Hamilton said nervously. He walked quickly past Charity, not acknowledging her presence. “Jeannetta!” he called, “Jeannetta!” knowing his wife would welcome the good news of land on the horizon he hurried to find her, his calls becoming fainter and fainter.

“Well, young miss, I suppose you’ll be happy to be off of this old tub.” Captain Adamson sidled up to her. Another person standing too close for her comfort. She could feel his breath on her face. She leaned away.

“I can’t say that I’m not anxious to be on dry land again.” Charity spoke in the polite double speak of the day. Did the captain actually move closer to her?

“A pretty thing like you must have had a lot of boyfriends.” he whistled his ‘s’ sounds, like a wisp of wind blowing through a crack in the door.

Charity stood up quickly, “Oh, not so’s you’d notice. I..a..need to get back to my room, Captain.” she hurried off downstairs without a backwards glance; having had enough of the Captain’s leering. Between the spitting and the

leering, Charity wondered how he had time to sail the ship. Pretty thing, hah, she thought to herself. She hadn’t even seen a mirror since they left Los Angeles; she couldn’t imagine what she currently looked like, without a proper bath or hair washing for a month. She crawled back into her bunk and finished her latest letter to Crystal.

She heard the shouts just after she retired for the night. Willie was again snoring away in the top bunk. She knew they were nearing land, but didn’t know exactly when they would reach it. It figures it would be when she was already in her nightdress and cap. She heard an urgent knock on the door. “Charity, William, we’re here! Get your things together, right now!” her father’s voice came sharply through the door. Charity sat up quickly, hitting her head on the slats of Willie’s bunk. Oh heavens, could this nightmare finally be ending???

Ten minutes later, in the black of night, the Hamilton family stood on the deck of the Silver Winds while Captain Adamson and his crew prepared the ship for docking. The cold wind whipped through Charity’s long brown hair, obscuring her vision. She was flanked by Willie and her mother, who stood stiffly and stared straight ahead. She could see her father scanning the ground before them looking for someone. George Stempel probably. The ship lurched to a stop, as the docking rope became taut, but Charity couldn’t see much of anything. Only one building had some lights on; that was it. Oh, this couldn’t be Seattle, could it, she thought, her heart sinking. This was more wilderness than she was prepared for. She glanced over at her mother, who seemed to be of the same opinion.

Charity could finally make out a figure at the water’s edge. Her father ran down the gangplank and she could see him shaking hands with the figure. It wasn’t George Stempel, she thought, he was short and stout, and this person was taller than her father.

“Jeannetta, Charity, Willie, c’mon! Aaron Stempel is here to meet us.” Hamilton called loudly. A little too loudly and cheerfully for Charity’s taste. Slowly, they descended the plank and surrounded young Aaron. “...my wife Jeannetta, and my son William.” they were all shaking his hand. “..and you will remember my daughter, Charity.” Aaron took her hand and shook it. His hand was cold and she realized that she was freezing. Where on God’s green earth were they?? She managed to croak out a civil greeting to Aaron, noticing how tall he’d become; before watching her father put his arm around the boy’s slender shoulders and being led over toward the lighted building. It was a saloon, called Lottie’s, and Aaron brought them inside.

In the bright saloon light, Charity could take a good look at Mr. Aaron Stempel. He had certainly changed some, it had been four years since she’d seen him. He was still skinny, although his shoulders were broader and more defined. His hair was still jet black, but combed properly. He had grown into his face, a face too intense for a youngster. He smiled shyly at her as her father made their introductions to Lottie. She could not imagine what she must have looked like, and wished the evening would just end. Her father’s overly friendly

overtures to his benefactor’s progeny bordered on disgusting, and she was sure her mother thought so too. It was best not to upset Jeannetta too much, she would have to take to her bed with the vapors.

Finally, they trudged upstairs to their rooms. She still had to share one with the snoring Willie, but at least she would sleep in a real bed, on dry land, with decent facilities; even though they were still out back. Charity laid her head down on the feather pillow that did not smell of salt and mildew, and was asleep before she could even compose her evening prayers.

The next day passed in a flurry of activity. George Stempel finally showed up to take her parents to their new business venture, the first dry goods store in Seattle. Bankrolled by Stempel, who, realizing he couldn’t run a mill and a dry goods store, then contacted her father, his old friend from the great mining days in Arizona. Charity did not accompany her parents to the store at first. She gobbled down a huge breakfast that Lottie had prepared for her. Lottie was a woman of indeterminate age, with a full figure that filled out and nearly spilled over her satin dress. She looked like she knew her way around, thought Charity, but there was a kindness about her also.

“So dear, you must be glad to be off of that ship.” Lottie was well aware of Captain Adamson’s shortcomings.

Charity nodded in response. Lottie noticed Charity’s disheveled hair and ill fitting dress. It gave her an

idea. “Charity, how would you like a nice hot bath.”Charity’s eyes widened, “Oh, that would be wonderful!” Lottie swished into her back room. “Well, you just wait right there, and I’ll

get it fixed up!”Soon the air was filled with the aroma of Lottie’s fragrant bubble bath.

She thought the girl deserved a special treat, knowing how long she had been on the road.

“There you go, dearie. Take your time.” Lottie left a white fluffy towel on a chair and closed the door behind her. Charity thought she had gone to heaven. It had been so long since she had even had a hot bath, let alone one with pretty smelling bubbles! She dropped her dress and quickly undid her undergarments. The air was cold on her skin and she quickly stepped into the deep bathtub. Letting out a sigh, she relaxed into the very hot water and allowed the bubbles to envelop her. Well, this wasn’t a bad start to this whole thing, she thought. She looked around at the lovely appointments of Lottie’s back room. There was a small table with a few chairs, on a thick rag rug. Red velvet curtains framed the windows, surely a luxury in this wilderness. A hutch containing some dainty flowered china and some flowers in a vase filled up one entire wall. Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes and imagined herself far away.

“Joshua! Jeremy!!” With a mighty bellow, the young man careened through the door of the saloon. “Lottie? Joshua! Jeremy!” he called, stopping only to canvas the empty room. Continuing his stomp through the saloon, he

threw open the door to the back room. “Josh....” he stopped in mid yell as he caught sight of the person in the bathtub.

Predictably, Charity screamed. “Out! Out! Get out!” Bubbles were flying through the air as Jason Bolt, in shock, stepped backwards through the door and closed it quickly.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I..was..a..looking for my little brothers.” He called through the door. He had no idea Lottie had any guests. Usually, when he couldn’t find 6 year old Jeremy and 10 year old Joshua in the morning, they were sneaking an extra breakfast from Lottie before school.

“Well,” Charity bellowed back, “You should be more careful. The door was closed, you know.”

Jason shifted in his shoes. “Yes, yes, please accept my apologies.” Luckily, the bubbles covered up anything he shouldn’t have seen, but he was embarrassed nonetheless. “Well, I’ll just be on my way. If you see my brothers....”

“I better not see them until I’m out there, properly dressed!”“Yes, of course. Good bye miss.” Jason made a bee-line out the front

door of the saloon, and began to run through the square, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. Finding women in the bath was not something he was accustomed to, coming from a family of men. Even his mother, who had been gone over a year now, kept her baths private. Coming to an abrupt halt, he remembered why he had come to town. Where were those boys???

Who in the world was that?? Charity wondered, shifting lower in the tub. What kind of ruffian bursts into a room without knocking. She didn’t get a good look at him, but she could see he was tall, with a mop of curly hair atop his head. She hoped the bubbles in her bath were appropriately placed, and that the boy didn’t violate her privacy too much. She took another deep breath and allowed the hot water to penetrate her every pore, washing the dust and sea salt away. She could not remember when she was the recipient of something so luxurious as a deep hot bath. Even at home in Tucson, life was pretty difficult, and money was always a problem. She remembered last Christmas when she received two pair of stockings under her tree. Oh, and one candy cane. But a deep bubble bath? It was unheard of in her life and she wasn’t going to let the unexpected visitor ruin it for her .

Soon after, Charity heard a small knock on the door. Much to her relief, it was only Lottie. She came bearing a new dress for Charity. She said it was just something she found in her closet, but it didn’t look like anything Lottie would wear. In fact, it looked exactly like something Charity would wear. It was soft yellow, with tiny green and pink flowers. Its long sleeves and scoop neck both softened by lace; Charity loved it on sight.

“Oh, thank you Miss Hatfield!” she cried. It had been a long time since she had had a new dress.

Lottie smiled. She could remember being seventeen and wanting to look pretty. “You’re welcome. You’d better get dressed now, your parents will be looking for you, I’m sure.”

Charity was putting the last pins in her long brown hair as her parents arrived back from the store.

“Charity, where did you get that dress?” her mother asked, still stone-faced, not giving Charity the satisfaction of a compliment.

“Miss Hatfield gave it to me.”Lottie immediately noticed the frown playing at the corner of Mrs.

Hamilton’s lips, “Oh, I’m just loaning it to her, until your things arrive from Tucson.”

“Hmmph.” was the response. “Your father needs your help at the store.”Charity nodded and smiled at Lottie and hurriedly left, not telling anyone

about her bathtime visitor.

She swept the floor for what seemed like the 10th time that day. The store was not much more than a wooden counter and some shelves that were mostly devoid of supplies. It was hardly big enough for two people to be behind the counter at the same time, but her father had some grand ideas. She could hear him explaining them to George Stempel as they discussed the first order on the front porch. Charity knew that Stempel was fronting them the money for this little exercise, and she was pretty sure he had paid for their voyage also. That would explain the posh accommodations aboard the Silver Winds, already long gone back to the sea.

“Um, excuse me.” She looked up from her broom to see Aaron Stempel looking down at her. “Oh, hello Mr. Stempel.” It was strange calling someone she had known

from childhood Mister, but it just slipped out, owing to the many hours spent at Miss Tingle’s house in the afternoons for charm school.

“How are you today, Miss Hamilton?” He looked somewhat uncomfortable in his own skin, she realized.She had an idea. “Please, call me Cherry.” Her real name conjured up

scenes of poor people in line at the soup kitchen. She hated it. Here, in a new town, she would finally get rid of it. Right from the beginning. In this godforsaken wilderness, she would be Cherry, her mother be damned. She leaned the broom on the side of the counter and it tipped to one side. She and Aaron both went to catch it at the same time and their heads banged together with a crunch. Charity saw stars.

“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.” Aaron rubbed his head once or twice, not wanting to show her his pain.

“It’s all right, Mr. Stempel.” Rubbing her head also, she righted the broom. “What can I do for you?” Dang, that hurt!

“Oh...” he stammered, “Please, call me Aaron. I...a..just wanted to know if you were getting settled in ok.”

She shrugged, “Well, considering I have no idea where we’ll be living, I can’t say that we are getting settled at all.”

Her sharp answer surprised him. She was different than he remembered. “Oh. I know my father has a cabin for you to live in…for the time being,” he added quickly.

Oh, more donations from George Stempel. “Yes, I heard.”Aaron gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing in his freshly shaved throat.

“Well, maybe I could show you around.” What’s to see, she thought. However, once again her manners won out.

“That would be nice. How about later today, I think my father needs me here right now.”

Aaron’s eyes brightened, and she noticed how dark a shade of brown they were. A perfect match for his hair.

“Alright then, I’ll stop by later. I have to get back to the mill. My father’s training me to take over the business, you know.” he said with more than a touch of pride in his voice.

“Good for you. I’m sure you’ll do very well.” She replied, picking up the broom and continuing her futile efforts. “I’ll see you later then, Aaron.”

“Yes, goodbye Chari...I mean Cherry.” Aaron backed out the door, nodded a greeting to his father and Philip Hamilton and strode off. A girl named Cherry. What an odd thing. She was certainly more beautiful than he remembered. In fact, he hardly remembered her at all. Why, she must have only been thirteen when he last saw her. Now he couldn’t help noticing her shiny brown hair and pretty hazel eyes, and her full bosom demurely hidden behind a row of lace. Aaron shook his head. A gentlemen did not think of such things. Oh yes they did, he immediately amended himself. Young ladies were few and far between in Seattle, and he intended on making the most of this opportunity. However, right now he needed to get back to business. But he was already looking forward to his next meeting with Cherry.

Stempel’s Mill was the leading supplier of lumber for the Seattle area. That, of course, was not much yet, but in partnering with Jonathan Bolt’s logging enterprise, the mill was growing rapidly, and George Stempel had a vision. A vision of Seattle as a thriving town, perhaps even the seat of the Washington Territory. Aaron was a big part of that vision. George’s quiet but intelligent son had all the makings of a good businessman. Not like that hellion Jason Bolt, Jonathan’s oldest. George shook his head. Jason Bolt would be never be good for anything but felling trees. And talking. The boy could talk a blue streak, that was for sure. He was Jonathan times ten. However, George could see the rivalry between the two ‘sons of the town’, and he wasn’t one to squash a potentially profitable situation. Competition was good for the soul, and what Jason lacked in brains, he made up in brawn, and vice versa for Aaron. Yes, they would probably do well, if Jason Bolt could ever come down out of the trees long enough to learn how business was done.

“Father?”“Yes, son?” George did not notice that Aaron had come into the office.“The lumber is stacked and ready to be milled, and Harve and St. James

are handling it. I’d like to go back into town, if it’s all right with you.” Aaron said eagerly.

“Off to see Miss Hamilton?” George asked, eyebrow peaked. He wasn’t about to discourage his shy son from pursuing that young lady. Aaron had far

too little experience with women, and at nineteen he should be acquiring some. “Of course, run along.” he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The trees of the Puget Sound were tall and wide. Canopies of green crisscrossed the blue sky, letting only thin shafts of light down to illuminate the shade plants below. Jonathan Bolt marveled at how different the terrain was from his native Scotland. He and his wife and small son had come over from the Old Country to start a new life here amongst these trees. The second son of the clan didn’t have much advancement to hope for, even if he was only fifteen minutes younger than the elder; his twin, Duncan. Duncan had the lairdship to look forward to, the running of Kilmarron. All other siblings were peripheral to his status. Jonathan Bolt could not see himself in a life working for Duncan, so he began to investigate other possibilities. He had always loved the out-of-doors, so when he heard about a fledgling settlement in the Colonies called Washington Territory, he began to research. Six months later, he used a part of his Bolt inheritance to begin the purchase of a mountain near the Puget Sound, called Bridal Veil. He, his wife Julia and his young son Jason got on a boat, bid Duncan and Kilmarron goodbye and set off on a year-long voyage to Seattle.

Jason grew up tall and strong, like the trees outside their front door. After a few years he was joined by Joshua, the blond changeling, and Jeremy, the sweet, shy baby of the family. Jonathan met up with the mill owner, George Stempel, who had a teenage son of his own, Aaron. Jonathan smiled and shook his head when he thought of Aaron. A scrappy, smart young man, but quiet and reticent, one never quite knew what he was thinking. Aaron and Jason had spent the past four years butting heads over school and work and even woods games. Jonathan actually thought it was good for the both of them to have each other to bounce off of. Seattle was not exactly a huge place, what with the few loggers and mill workers that he and Stempel employed, and the few people that worked at Lotties saloon, there were not many children around.

At that thought, Jonathan felt a pang of sorrow as he thought of his beloved Julia, lost a year ago in childbirth. She had never complained about going from being a lady of Kilmarron to being the wife of a logger. She had been the most loving wife and mother Jonathan could have ever hoped for, for himself and for the boys. She made every sacrifice and adjustment with her sweet smile and gentle demeanor intact, from drilling Jason on his Shakespeare, to cooking a squirrel stew. Jonathan missed her every day, and he knew the boys did also. But he was still here, even if his heart was gone, and he owed it to her to continue the legacy they had begun for their sons.

“Bolt!” he heard his name being called from behind. He whirled around to see George Stempel hurrying toward him, stumpy legs trying their hardest to keep the stout body above them from toppling over.

“Yes, George, what is it?” Jonathan stood over a head taller than Stempel, his wavy hair adding at least another inch.

“The Hamiltons have arrived.” he answered breathlessly. “They’re working on the store right now.”

“Then I’m supposin’ they’ll be needin’ a place to stay.”

“That was your part of the deal.” “All right then. I’ll have the boys clean out the cabin today, tell the family

they can move in tomorrow.” Jonathan Bolt had his misgivings about how this was going to work out. Stempel had filled him in about the troubles that had beset this Hamilton family in Arizona, but Jonathan was wary of people that would accept this many handouts. George had insisted on bringing them out here, though. He convinced Jonathan that they needed a dry goods store in Seattle, that it would be a public service and help the town to grow. Jonathan was reluctant to offer money to people he had never met, but he did have his family’s old cabin that they no longer used. They had moved to their present, larger cabin about four years ago, after Jeremy had turned two and the one tiny room could no longer contain four Bolt men. The cabin stood empty now, so George encouraged Jonathan to loan it to the Hamiltons. He agreed, but still had nagging doubts. “George,” he could remember saying, “What kind of people could come and live and work on someone else’s penny?”

“Jonathan, they are good folks, they’ve just had a run of bad luck, that’s all.” George was convincing, and Jonathan figured that since the cabin was empty he could offer it. But, it still didn’t sit right with him, that a man could so easily accept another man’s cast offs. But, he gave his word, and his word was all he had.

Dear Crystal,Well, we’ve been here, wherever that is, about two weeks now, and I can’t

say that I am excited to be here at all. It’s a dirty, grimy place, full of loggers and mill workers. Not quite the cowboys of Tucson, that is for sure. Oh, I did meet Aaron Stempel again. He’s still quiet, but his face has taken on a sheen of handsomeness I don’t think it had in Arizona. He’s taken me on some walks around the outskirts of the town, and shown me the highlights. (That didn’t take long.) He seems very nice, and apparently one of the only boys around my age in these parts. He keeps mentioning a Jason Bolt that must be an acquaintance of his, but I haven’t met him yet.

The store is not exactly thriving. Mr. Stempel had placed an order that came in with us on the Silver Winds (I am so very glad to be off of that ship, Crystal!), but there are so few people to shop here that it’s going to be rough going. Mother is quiet, and Willie is safely tucked away in school. I’m stuck helping Father in the store. It gives me an opportunity to see the folks that live here, but so far, Aaron is the only one to pay me any mind.

We live in a tiny cabin in the woods. Crystal, it is only one room! Willie and I are in our usual bunk beds, and Mother and Father have a bed of their own. There’s a table and four chairs and a fireplace for cooking and warmth. None of it is ours, Crystal, it all belongs to Mr. Stempel. Father is working very hard but is so solicitous of Mr. Stempel and Aaron that I can’t bear it. I hope this isn’t just another wild goose chase.

Oh Crystal, guess what?? I asked Aaron to call me Cherry instead of the dreaded Charity. I like it when he calls me Cherry, I feel like a different person. He’s usually very polite, although I did catch him looking at me most improperly

the other day. Not that I minded, Crystal, actually it was kind of fun, it’s just that I can’t believe he’d ever act on it. I can’t believe I said that, now keep it to yourself!

This weekend there’s some sort of social event for the town. Aaron asked me if I would accompany him. I figured I might as well, he’s nice enough. I think they must import women from another city or something. Other than my mother and Lottie, I don’t think there are many women around...Maybe I’ll meet some more people my age.

Well, back to sweeping and wiping down the counters. I don’t know how it could be so dirty here, it has rained most of the time since we arrived. How quickly could dirt turn to mud and then back to dirt?

I’m not sure if I’ll ever see you again, sweet friend, but always remember me. I’ll always remember you!Most affectionately, your friend forever, Charity Hamilton.

Chapter 2

The Seattle evening was clear and cool, stars and moon shining in the sky and on the square. The first Saturday of every month was reserved for the Seattle Social starring the Hometown Jug Band, which was neither hometown nor a jug band, but a group of musicians who traveled from outpost to outpost hosting dances and social events. They had recently added Seattle to their list of cities, and it was the highlight of the month for the entertainment-starved residents.

The preparations began at mid day, with the small platform stage going up across from Lottie’s, and ended at six o’clock with Lottie bringing out tables of food for the revelers. Families and couples, young and old, came out for the evening. Some came missing their old towns, with their established patterns of fun, others just needed some distraction from the drudgery of the hard work they performed.

Aaron adjusted his tie in the ornately framed mirror in the front room of the house he shared with his father.

“Will you be coming out tonight, Father?” he asked while fighting with the tie.

George Stempel shook his head, lighting his cigar. “No, son, I think I’ll stay in tonight. I’ve got some reading to do. So, you taking that Hamilton girl?”

Aaron turned to face his father, “You mean Cherry? Yes, I am. She’s very nice.”

“Well, ok son.” Stempel senior took a long drag on the cigar. “But I hope she’s not too nice.”

“What are you talking about?”“All’s I’m saying, boy, is that you’re nineteen now, and you should be

having some fun, that’s all. Nice girls are good for settlin’ down with, no doubt about that, but you shouldn’t be thinking of settlin’ down for a good while yet...”

Womanizer George could not understand the thinking of his strait-laced son. “…like your buddy Jason Bolt for instance. Now that boy is sowing his wild oats, all right. That’s what you should be doing, son.” He blew concentric smoke rings toward Aaron.

“Thanks for the advice, Father. I think I’m capable of running my life just fine without your interference. ” Aaron replied, finishing his tie with a flourish. Without a glance back at his father, he grabbed his coat and strode out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Oh, but it was frustrating when his father was right, Aaron thought as he made his way down the walking path. He walked with his head down, bemoaning his shyness once again. Jason did do well with the ladies; Aaron figured he must just talk them into insensibility. He was certain Jason had taken advantage of a girl or two in his time, and even though he was nearly two years older, Aaron felt he was way behind his rival in that area. Maybe that would change soon.

“Jeremy, me boy, settle down!” Jonathan struggled with his youngest in the metal tub that now sat in the middle of the front room floor. Saturday night was bath night, and young Jeremy was in no mood for a scrubbing. Joshua sullenly waited his turn while sitting by the fire.

“Father, do you need some help?” Jason smoothed his hair into shape in front of the small mirror balanced precariously on the mantle.

“No Jason. Uuumph.” For a small boy, Jeremy packed a big wallop. “I....think we’ll be ok. Now Jeremy that’s enough!” he barked at the little fish.

“Well then I guess I’ll be going then.” Jason grinned at his soaking wet father.

Jonathan waved him off, while wiping his hands on a towel. “Yes son, have a good time.” he turned his attention to his quiet middle child, “Alright Joshua, your turn,” causing him to yelp and run into the back room.

Jason hurried out the door. He looked forward to Social night with a fervor almost unmatched in his young life. He enjoyed being with people, swapping stories and admiring pretty girls. Admittedly there were not that many pretty girls around, but he certainly got the most out of the ones that were there. He never failed to end the evening with a belle on his arm, by now it was almost a challenge. He also enjoyed parading them in front of Aaron Stempel, as that dandy had yet to get a girl of his own. The famous Bolt grin lit up his face as he hurried down the path to town.

The old Bolt family cabin was nearer to the logging camp than to Seattle, a ways off the beaten path. Aaron stepped lightly, thinking about Cherry as his companion for the social. He rapped firmly on the door, trying to beat back his nerves.

Willie Hamilton pulled the door open. “Charity, “ he called in a sing-song voice, “Aaron Stempel’s here.” He left the door wide open, so Aaron gingerly stepped in. Jeannetta and Philip were counting the store’s till, with their receipts and accounting books in front of them.

“Good evening Aaron.” Philip stood up and pumped Aaron’s hand, “You’re looking fit tonight.” he said with much too much enthusiasm.

“Thank you sir.” Aaron found him to be a curious man. Philip seemed to encourage him to call on Cherry, and for that he was grateful. But, there was a constant nervousness about him that Aaron found unsettling. However, even more unsettling to him was Charity’s appearance.

“Good evening, Cherry.” he gulped. She was a vision in a light blue taffeta dress with a scoop neck and a fitted waist that emphasized all of her assets. Her long, chestnut brown hair hung in soft curls around her face and her cheeks and her lips were the color of roses in bloom. He was nearly speechless.

Charity did not miss his unsaid appraisal. “Good evening, Aaron. Shall we be going?” she bustled past her parents and took his outstretched arm.

“Of course. Good night Mr and Mrs...” his pleasantries were muffled by Charity dragging him outside and shutting the door behind him.

“Sorry.” she shot him a wan smile. “That one room gets a little small when we’re all there.”

He nodded, not caring. “You...look lovely tonight.” “Why, thank you Aaron. You look very nice yourself.” By the look on

Aaron’s face, Charity realized what she had suspected for awhile was true. Within her resided power; power over men. She could not get her mother or father to pay attention to her, but that attention could be found in many other places. She smiled and walked a little closer to Aaron, keeping up her polite chatter.

“Do you really think it’s good for Charity to be spending so much time with that Stempel boy?” Jeannetta looked up from counting the money long enough to cast doubt on anyone and everyone’s motives. “I don’t like the way he looks at her.”

Philip continued to pour over the book he was working in, its pages yellowed. It was the receipt log for the store. They weren’t really making any money yet, but Stempel was giving them some time. He exhaled slowly and closed the book. “Jeannetta, who better should she be spending time with? He is the boss’s son. He stands to inherit the entire mill operation! She could do a lot worse, you know.” his wife tried to interrupt but he quickly continued. “Let her be, Jeannetta. She’s almost of marrying age anyway. She could do a lot worse...” he repeated. “Listen, I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Will you finish the counting?”

“Of course dear.” She looked back down at what she was doing as he stepped out back to use the primitive facilities. As soon as she was certain he was gone, she grabbed a thinner red book from under her mattress. She opened it to the first page, scribbled in it, grabbed a few dollars from the stack before her, stuck them inside the book and stashed the whole thing back under the mattress. She wasn’t about to remain someone’s do-gooder project for long.

Charity and Aaron arrived at the square after the music had already begun. The Hometown Jug Band consisted of a violin, bass, banjo, guitar and

drums. They were playing a sprightly minuet and many of the citizens of Seattle were tripping the light fantastic. Charity was amazed at the transformation of the square. Dozens of oil lamps provided light, as did a large bonfire in the center of the crowd. The band played on their makeshift stage, and someone was passing out small firecrackers to the children. She was surprised at the amount of people who had come out for the party, it looked like enough to populate two Seattles, so far as she had seen. And lo and behold, there were some young men there, as well as some young women, nearly her age. She saw Lottie at the food table, merrily selling snacks. Waving with a tentative motion, Lottie greeted her with a warm smile.

“Would you like some punch, Cherry?” Aaron asked, spotting the food and drink also.

“Oh, yes, please.” She used the opportunity of Aaron leaving her side to examine the crowd in more detail. A large group of people stood to one side of the stage, laughing uproariously. “Aaron,” she asked when he returned with their drinks, “What’s going on over there?”

Aaron pursed his lips. “Oh, it’s probably just Jason Bolt pontificating again. Would you like to dance?” he added quickly. Must change the subject.

“Sure.” There’s that Jason Bolt name again. She was going to have to be introduced to this character, soon.

They danced merrily around the square. Aaron was a good dancer, and Charity enjoyed the feeling of his arms about her. She could feel the many eyes upon her as her dress swished and swayed as they moved.

However, as soon as the song ended, their dance did also, and they found themselves right in front of the laughing group of people.

A tall boy with wavy brown hair and a big smile broke through the group and approached she and Aaron.

“Good evening Aaron, and who might this be?” he said in a voice like velvet, never taking his eyes off of Charity.

Aaron suddenly became very uncomfortable, “um..” he said in a low voice, “Allow me to present my companion, Cherry Hamilton. Cherry, this is Jason Bolt.”

Jason took her hand and kissed it gallantly. “It’s very nice to meet you Miss Hamilton.” He turned to Aaron, “Aaron, my friend, where have you been hiding this beauty?”

Aaron’s voice kept it’s even tone. “I haven’t been hiding her anywhere, Bolt. Her family is running the dry goods store. She’s been here for a couple of weeks now. In fact, her family is living in your old cabin!”

Charity was mortified. How could Aaron mention that in front of everyone! Especially to the former occupant of the cabin! Jason Bolt? This was the boy Aaron has been going on about for the past two weeks?

“Pleased to meet you.” She replied, drawing her hand away, “…And where have you been hiding yourself, Mr. Bolt?” There was something familiar about him but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was as if she had seen him before, but how could that be?? She was sure she would remember that face, those blue eyes.

Her impertinent comment drew ooohs and aahs from the largely male group.

“Cherry,” Aaron’s hold on her elbow was beginning to become a death grip. “Why don’t we get something to eat??”

She broke off her stare with Jason and returned to her date. “Certainly, Aaron.” She sensed something else going on here. “I’d like that. Nice to meet you, Mr. Bolt.”

“Yes… my pleasure Miss Hamilton.” Jason stammered just a bit.Aaron and Charity walked off together, Aaron breathing a sigh of relief.

Jason’s glib charm and confidence was better off seen and not heard, especially by his date. He glanced back at the group, where Jason was scratching his head and taking some ribbing from his friends.

As the evening wore on, beer replaced punch for the gentlemen of the group. The dancing got faster, and the citizens of Seattle grew chummier. Charity noticed Aaron finally loosening up a bit also. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he did enjoy a beer or two sometimes. Tonight would be one of those times. He found his own group of friends from the mill, and momentarily left Charity standing alone at the food table.

“It looks like our Aaron is quite smitten with you, Miss Hamilton.” Lottie said with a sly smile and a swish of her dress.

Charity shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know about that. He’s very nice though.” She helped herself to a bit of meat. He was very nice, and certainly easy on the eyes. It was a heady feeling, being here, in the middle of the woods, dancing and laughing with a boy.

A hand reached out and lightly grabbed her wrist. “Miss Hamilton?”It was that Jason Bolt, and his eyes were shining. She attributed it to the

freely flowing beer. She pulled her hand away. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Bolt.”He waggled a finger at her, “You know, you look familiar. Are you sure we

haven’t met before?”“No....I am not sure. You look somewhat familiar yourself.” This boy was

even taller than Aaron, with broad, brawny shoulders, and he wore the clothes of the loggers in town.

“So,” Jason picked some meat off the bone and popped it into his mouth. “You are the family living in our old cabin.”

Charity looked down, “Yes. It will only be for while, just until the store starts making money and we can afford to get our own house.” God, how she hated this.

“Oh, I think it’s great that you are using the old place.” Jason said casually, We outgrew it years ago.”

“Oh? How many in your family?” “My father, me and my two little brothers.” Little brothers! Suddenly, Charity knew exactly where she had seen

Jason before. She let out a small yelp. “You! It was you!” she smacked him on the arm, “You boor!”

He grabbed her arm again, “Hey wait a minute, what are you talking about?”

“You’re the one who...” she lowered her voice to a whisper. This was not exactly something she wanted the whole world to know. “...who busted in on me while I was in the bath!”

Jason began to laugh, a little too loudly for Charity’s taste. “Oh THAT’s where I saw you.” his eyes narrowed, “Well, well, well, you clean up nicely.”

She smacked him in the arm again. “You are the rudest boy I’ve....”“Ow!” Jason grabbed his throbbing bicep. This girl had a mean right

cross.Suddenly Aaron was at her side. “Cherry, what’s wrong??”She looked angrily at Jason. “Nothing, Aaron. Let’s have another dance,

shall we?” “Gladly.” Aaron glared at Jason and led Charity back to the center of the

square. Jason watched them walk away, chuckling and rubbing his arm. She had

a lot of spirit, that one did. He could not imagine Aaron keeping that under control for any length of time.

The Jug Band ended their final song to cheers from the townspeople who then dispersed, their merry laughs echoing into the night. Boys and girls, and men and women, paired off to end the evening along the riverbank. The late-rising moon cast its glow over the water and the natural ripples put on a nature show for the young sparkers. Aaron gallantly put his jacket over Charity’s shoulders as they walked into the woods. What he didn’t know was her shivers were not those of chill, but of excitement. Charity could count on one hand the number of times she had been walking alone with a boy. Even in Tucson, which boasted the most beautiful sunsets in the Territories, she had never been alone with a boy to enjoy them. She gave Aaron her best come hither gaze as they came to a stop in a little inlet of the river. She had practiced it many times in her mirror at home.

He turned her to him, “Cherry, I’ve really enjoyed your company this evening.” his voice was husky yet soft.

“And I yours, Aaron.” Charity wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. Slowly, he tipped her chin up and brought his lips to hers. His kiss, initially gentle, grew more insistent and she drew up to him hungrily. Her lips were soft and full, and he pulled her in close.

She felt his hands, warm even in the chill of night, caress her back and stroke her hair. She clung to him, feeling the strength in his slender shoulders. Suddenly, she felt the need to breathe. Breaking off the kiss, she rested her head on his heaving chest. They stood together for awhile, watching the moon dance on the water, neither of them wanting the moment to end.

“I guess I should be seeing you home.” Aaron, his voice still soft, “It’s getting late.”

“You’re probably right.... But, just one more thing...” She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him again, exhilarated by the power and abandon she

felt. Aaron, for his part, did not resist. He loved her sweet smell and her soft skin and hair. She teased his lips open with her tongue, and he felt weak in the knees. He held her so closely that the beating of her heart became one with the throbbing in his temples. Abruptly, he stood away from her. “I..a..really think I should walk you home.” His face was red and hot when Charity stroked his cheek.

“Yes, certainly Aaron.” She smiled to herself. Something as easy as a kiss brought this boy to his knees. Interesting.

She took his arm and they walked off in the direction of her cabin, only now it was Aaron who was shaking.

With the sun blazing over Bridal Veil Mountain, Aaron rode into the logging camp, eyes peeled for Jonathan Bolt. He had some contracts from his father that Jonathan needed to look over, but he didn’t want to make this trip any longer than it had to be. He hobbled the horse and looked around the camp. It was almost deserted, save for Jason Bolt sitting by the fire, his right hand bandaged.

“What happened to you, Bolt?” Aaron asked as he approached.“Oh, let’s just say that the fool and his saw are soon parted.” Jason

replied. He hated to be injured. He loved his work in the trees, and the thought of sitting around camp for a couple of days left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Oh, sorry to hear that. Is your father around?” “No, he’s in the west grove with a crew. Contracts, you know, they have

to be filled.” Jason sipped his coffee and decided to change the subject. “That Hamilton girl sure is pretty, Aaron. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Aaron scowled, then reconsidered and smiled warmly, “Well, Jason, I guess life is full of surprises.” Oh, the day when Jason Bolt admired HIS date had arrived!

“She’s got a lot of spirit, Aaron. You’ll have your hands full.” Jason winced inwardly at the memory of her punches at the dance.

“Well Bolt, I may have my hands full, but not with just her spirit.” Aaron, emboldened by pride, teased Jason as he never had in the past.

Jason spilled out his coffee and stood next to his rival. “Well, well, well Aaron, good for you.” he clapped Aaron on the back with his bad hand and winced and moaned audibly. “Ow..” he rubbed the offending appendage.

Aaron pulled back into himself. “Anyway, please see that your father gets these papers, all right?”

Jason, still frowning in pain waved Aaron off, “Yes, yes. Just put them on the table.”

“Goodbye, Bolt.” Aaron said as he walked toward his horse. He mounted his horse and rode away, snickering, before Jason could say any more.

He was still sitting there, reading, when his father strode into camp, cursing all the way.

“Jason!” Jonathan’s voice held no question as to what was to come next. He stopped abruptly in front of his son, who stood up so suddenly he toppled the bench.

“Yes, sir.” Jason quaked inwardly. His father’s wrath was not something taken easily.

Jonathan pointed to his hand, “What in bloody hell happened to ye?!” Of course he already knew, but he was interested to see what kind of story Jason would concoct.

“Well, sir, I was grabbing a saw up on the north stand, and...and it slipped and cut my hand.”

Jonathan stood very still, eye to eye with his eldest. “...and who were ye grabbin’ it from, lad?”

Jason knew the jig was up. “...from Zack. We were...a...a...”“Horsin’ around??” Jonathan didn’t wait for Jason’s response. “Jason, sit

down. “ he barked.“Da... I..” Jason invoked the informal Scottish form of father as they sat.“..just be quiet son and listen for a change. “ Jonathan slowly unwrapped

Jason’s hand while he spoke. “Ye are my son, and I love ye. But Jason, ye must understand, this business is going to be yours and your brothers’ someday. Ye’ve got to grow up sometime. Ye’re a clever lad, and I know your gift of words will serve ye well, but ye’ve got to settle down some. I need ye to help me in the business. You’ve got to start settin’ an example for the other men. Boy, you are nearly eighteen. By the time I was your age, I was courtin’ your mother, and trying to figure out how to get out of Scotland.” He finished unwrapping the bandage and got a clear view of Jason’s wound. “...This is a mess, son.”

Jason winced as Jonathan probed the ragged slice, “But Father, I’m not sure I want to run the business. I like being outside, in the fresh air. That’s where I feel best! That’s where I belong! A man shouldn’t be trapped behind a desk for his whole life.”

“Tcha, son.” Jonathan dismissed him. “I won’t be here forever, you know, and ye are my eldest, and it’s up to ye to keep this business going for ye’rself and Joshua and Jeremy and ye’r children after ye. It’s what I’ve been grooming ye for all of ye’r life!”

“Oh I see. I’m the laird of logging.” he answered derisively. “Father, did Uncle Duncan want to be the laird of Kilmarron, or was it just thrust on him?” Unusually sharp words from Jason to his father.

Jonathan raised his voice again, “Uncle Duncan knew his place, and he assumed it honorably. As I expect ye to, Jason. Ye’r much too clever to be just a tree-cutter, eventually ye’ll be bored, son. And ye risk becoming a wastrel. And I won’t have that. For ye’r dear mother’s sake, I will not have that!” he pounded his fist for emphasis.

Jason’s expression didn’t change.“Ach, boy. Why can’t you be more like Aaron Stempel? He follows his

father around like a puppy, learning everything he can about the millin’ business. Ye know and I know ye are every bit as smart as he is...” from the look on his son’s face, Jonathan knew that he had hit a nerve. He took a deep breath. “Well, son, ye think on what I’ve said. Now go and let Lottie have a look at that wound, it looks pretty deep. I’ll not be wastin’ another moment of me time on this thing. Go on now. Off with ye.”

“Yes, Father.” Jason, defeated, began to walk away.“Oh and Jason,” he called after his dejected son, “Find your brothers and

help them with their lessons. Ye won’t be of any use to me on the mountain for a while with that hand.”

Jason quickened his pace, muttering to himself. “Be a man, Jason, no be a nursemaid...well...well...make up your mind.” The responsibilities and constraints of being a business owner chafed at Jason’s soul. He wasn’t just the laird of logging, and his father was going to have to understand that.

After letting Lottie clean and rewrap his hand, all the while clucking like a mother hen, Jason began again to look for his brothers. It was a task without end, he thought angrily. He stopped in at the store, where he encountered Charity behind the counter.

“Good day, Miss Hamilton.” “Hello Mr. Bolt.” she noticed his hand and her tone changed to one of

concern, “What happened to you??”“Oh, just a little accident on the mountain.” he wasn’t about to go into the

whole story with her. “You haven’t seen my brothers today, have you?”“My, my, my, Mr. Bolt, you just can’t keep track of those boys, can you?”

Charity snippily replied.Jason leaned on the counter, eyes blazing, “You know, you’re right, Miss

Hamilton. My father and I work all day at camp and my mother is dead, so I guess those boys spend too much time unsupervised. Now have you seen them or not?”

Charity was speechless. She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I..I..think the boys might be at my house, they were with my brother Willie earlier today.”

“Willie is your brother??” Jason asked, head cocked, “He’s quite an adventurer.”

“He’s quite a pest. Anyway, that’s what I know.” she paused. “Jason, I’m so sorry I spoke so sharply.”

“Good day Miss Hamilton.” Jason strode out the door of the store, wondering why what she said affected him so much.

The shelves of the Seattle Dry Goods store were filling up slowly but surely as the citizens of Seattle learned that their supply needs could be met more frequently and conveniently than waiting for the monthly supply ship to arrive. Canned goods, lye soap, flour and sugar were all fast-movers. The store also stocked fabric for enterprising sewers, as well as many varieties of seeds and outdoor tools.

Jeannetta had finally taken an active interest in the store, greeting customers warmly and coming up with ideas for new products they could carry. Charity was glad to see her mother coming around. Maybe this would be their last move. However, her mother’s sudden interest in the store had left Charity with a little time on her hands. She wrote more often to Crystal, and regaled her with ‘Tales of the Wilderness’. Crystal and her sister Ellen were having their own

adventures in Tucson. Of course, their tales included cowboys and cacti, as opposed to Charity’s pine trees and loggers, but the hopes and dreams of seventeen year old girls do not change with the terrain.

Some of her time was spent cleaning the cabin. The primitive plank floor did not really ever come clean, but she scrubbed it the best she could. When she felt she had made some progress, she worked on the stone fireplace. As she washed, she noticed some scratchings on the side. Looking closer she saw the marks of a family; the heights of the children. First, and tallest, “Jason, age 13.” Then lower down, “Joshua, age 6,” and “Jeremy, age 2” etched upon the stone. She sat in front of it for a long time, looking at the markings. She rubbed her hand gently over the one with Jason’s name as if it might bring her some knowledge of him. The few times they had spoken since the day at the store, they had not been kind to each other. But, obviously, this Bolt family felt that they were strong as a rock, and actually carved themselves into one. She could not imagine her parents bothering to mark she and Willie’s height anywhere, let alone in the heavy stone of a fireplace.

Upon hearing the familiar ‘knock knock’ on the door, Charity straightened her dress and checked her creamy complexion in the mirror. She pinched her cheeks and her lips for color. Satisfied with her reflection, she hurried to the door.

She passed her mother, who bade her goodbye not looking up from the table, grabbed her wrap and walked outside to meet Aaron. The sun was warm on her face as she handed her date the picnic basket she had packed earlier.

Aaron kissed her on the cheek and took her warm hand in his. “Hello, Miss Hamilton.”

“Good afternoon Mr. Stempel. I thought you’d never get here.” Charity glanced back at the cabin. “I will be so glad to be out of that place.”

He nodded, “Pretty small, huh.”“You can say that again. “ Her parents were finally making plans to move

closer to town, and out of the Bolt cabin. He sniffed the picnic basket hopefully. “Fried chicken?”She looked down shyly. “I know it’s your favorite.” Together they walked

toward Anderson’s Meadow for their picnic. The vegetation crackled and crunched under their feet. Charity marveled again at how handsome Aaron had become. He obviously took care with his appearance, there never was a hair out of place. His clothes befit the son of a prosperous mill owner, and his black boots shined in the sun. True he was slender, but strong, and Charity had firsthand knowledge of the muscles in his arms as he had wrapped them around her many times. Still, there was something reserved about him, something he was holding back, like he couldn’t or wouldn’t open himself up to her. Oh well, he was still a good date, and a very good kisser.

After a long walk to the meadow, they made their lunch spot on a blanket Aaron had brought. Charity watched Aaron eat with fascination. He ate with

gusto, gnawing every bit of chicken off the bone, and having second helpings of everything else. She found it very satisfying, and attractive, to see him relax and lose himself even if it was just in his lunch. She watched his fingers as they deftly picked apart the cookies she had baked, and the muscles in his forearms tense and relax as he shoveled the biscuits into his mouth. He even licked his fingers clean. She was in a trance.

“Delicious, Cherry! Cherry??” “Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.” Charity shook herself out of

her state and tried to reconnect herself to the present.

She lay on the blanket of meadow grass, looking up into the sky. Aaron was next to her, propped up on his elbow. In his hand was a small wildflower.

“Cherry?” he was caressing her cheek with the flower. “Yes?” oooh, that felt nice, she thought.“I wanted to talk to you about something...” Abstractly, the flower traced

the delicate lines of her neck. “Sure, Aaron, what is it?” Her heart began to pound.“Well, I was wondering.....” He was concentrating on what he was going

to say, and he drew the flower ever lower on the skin exposed by her dress’s neckline.

“What?” she managed to croak out. Having him so close, doing this..this delicate thing was almost more than she could stand.

“I....” Aaron could not finish his sentence as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, long and hard. He relaxed into her embrace and they remained there, locked in their passion for a moment.

“Well, hello Aaron, Miss Hamilton.” came the booming voice from above. For a moment, Charity thought it might be God. No, only Jason Bolt.

Aaron and Charity broke their embrace with an audible smack and turned to face Jason and his companion.

“Oh, sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb you.” Jason grinned.“Sure, Bolt. Of course you didn’t.” Aaron sat up with a jolt. “And what

brings you right here, right now?” “Oh...” Jason acknowledged the woman on his left with a shake of his

head, “just out to enjoy nature, same as you.” He raised his eyebrow slightly. “Jason, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your friend.” Charity

said, recovering her voice. The girl’s appearance was startling. She was obviously older than Jason, and her golden dress was much more elegant that was warranted for a Sunday walk. Her white blond hair was piled in curls atop her head, and the whole package was finished with an ornate hat. She was definitely not from around here.

“Oh, forgive me, Miss Hamilton.” Charity could hear the polite exaggeration in his voice. “Allow me to introduce Betsy Randall, from Tacoma.”

The girl gave Charity an icy stare, “Charmed, I’m sure. Hello Aaron.” Her greeting to him was a little more friendly.

“Betsy.” Aaron nodded ever so slightly, and Charity could see he was not impressed. “Well, you two, enjoy your day...”

“And you also, Aaron.” Jason made a little bow while looking at Charity. “Miss Hamilton.” And with a small nudge to Betsy, they walked off.

“Aaron,” Charity hissed when Jason was out of earshot, “What was that all about??”

Aaron leaned back on both elbows, and stuck a piece of grass between his teeth. “She’s a fancy lady.”

“What???” Charity leaned closer.“A fancy lady. A bunch of them come up from Tacoma every month or so.

I guess they need to drum up business.”“Business? Do you mean what I think you mean??” “You know, business.” he emphasized the last word as if that would clarify

its meaning.Charity bit her lip, deep in thought. “So you think Jason’s....”Aaron shrugged. He did not know for sure that Jason was paying for the

woman’s favors, but if he could convince Cherry that he was, it could only be good for him... He looked longingly at Charity. “Now, where were we?”

To his surprise, she pushed him away. “Aaron, why do you hate Jason so?”

“You mean other than the fact that he’s a egotistical blowhard?” Aaron tried to make light of her question.

“Aaron...” she groaned. “Really..”“Well Cherry,” he shrugged and settled back down on his elbows. “I don’t

hate him, he’s just...well, we compete for a lot of things around here. You know, our fathers have the main businesses in Seattle and, well...” Aaron couldn’t articulate his thoughts on the matter. “...a lot of times it’s me and him just trying to see who’s best at things, I guess..”

“Well, does he always win?”“NO! Why would you say that? I win just as much as he does.” Aaron’s

pride was wounded by her even thinking that he wasn’t able to beat Jason Bolt.She looked at him and smiled, “Well, then, what’s the problem??”“Oh, you’re a girl. Maybe you just don’t understand men.” he stated

plainly, tossing the chewed up grass blade to the side. “Oh sure, THAT’s it.” at this moment, Charity had no interest in

understanding men at all. She popped a kiss on Aaron’s waiting lips and stood up. “Let’s walk.” she said brightly.

Aaron sighed. “Sure, ok.” Suddenly he remembered that he needed to tell Charity something. However, the mood was most definitely broken. It would have to be another time.

Chapter 3

Charity lay in her bunk late one night, fingers interlaced behind her head, composing yet another letter to Crystal. Her parents were sitting outside on the porch to escape the oppressive stuffiness of the cabin. Their murmuring voices mingled with the sounds of night birds and animals rustling outside. The

underside of Willie’s top bunk undulated with his restless tossing. She took a break from her mental notes to eavesdrop on her parents’ conversation.

“Philip, do you think we’ll ever get out of this horrible place?” her mother opined; her eastern whine mutated with an Arizona twang creating a most memorable accent. On a good day Charity thought it sounded like kittens mewing.

“..are you still complaining about this cabin??” Philip continued worrying the bark off of the stick he was holding.

“No, Philip. This dirty little town. I can’t see any future for us running a store in this tiny place. But yes, this miserable excuse for a house is really getting on my nerves.”

“Well, I’m sorry, I’m afraid this is all we have right now. Where would you have us go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe my sister in New York could help us out?...”Philip threw the stick down, cursing it with his fury. “I told you before, I am

not asking your sister for ANYthing. George Stempel is providing for us well right now, and has given us a chance to get on our feet. I will not leave until this store is a success. We owe it to him… and I wish you’d just get used to that idea.” he stood and began to walk off the porch. “I think you’d be a lot happier.”

Jeannetta sullenly watched him be enveloped by the darkness. When she was satisfied that he was gone, Charity heard the doorknob turn. Quickly, she closed her eyes. Her mother came in and the rustled the bedsheets. Charity thought she was probably going to bed, so she cracked open her eyes and peeked over. She watched quizzically as her mother reached under the mattress and pulled something out. Charity had to bite her lip, hard, to keep from making a sound as her mother brought out a bag of money and count it. There was almost $500! This was plenty enough money to build a new cabin, or even to leave Seattle, if that’s what they wanted to do. Where did that money come from?? And why was her mother hiding it under the bed?? Then Jeannetta produced a thin red book; it looked like a ledger through Charity’s narrow slits. Her mother wrote in it quickly, then stowed everything back where it was. Only then did she strip off her dress, toss on her nightclothes and crawl into bed.

Very odd, Charity thought. Why would her mother be hiding money? It was probably their profits from the store, but why was she hiding it?? Deciding that she could not worry about her parents’ problems, she drifted off to the sounds of her mother’s and her brother’s even breathing. She did not hear her father return.

Lottie’s saloon was busy, and she liked it that way. It had been a tough couple of years since she had come to Seattle from San Francisco, to start a new life; although starting from scratch was not new to her. But, with the influx of Jonathan Bolt’s loggers and George Stempel’s mill workers, she was able to make a decent living.

In the past year, circumstances had called upon her to be a surrogate mother to the motherless Bolt boys. Even Jason, who thought he had no need.

She was watching him right now, downing beer and taking on all comers in arm-wrestling, when he should probably be at home sleeping.

Julia and Jonathan Bolt had been good friends to her, and she loved them like family. Even now she could recall Julia’s soft Scottish brogue as if she had talked to her yesterday. Julia’s death had been hard on her boys. Little Jeremy developed a debilitating stutter, Joshua became quiet and inward, and Jason, well, he had a wild hare where the sun don’t shine that was not to be tamed. Lottie knew Jonathan was worried about him, and tried to keep him focused on work, but other than that, there was little they could do.

“Yes! Yes!!” Jason shouted as he won his fifth match that night. “Lottie,” he called jovially, “another beer for the arm-wrestling king!” He grinned as he watched his defeated opponent slink off.

Lottie brought over the beer and set it down in front of him. “Jason, it’s getting late, won’t your father wonder where you are?” she said, voice quiet among the din.

‘Hell, Lottie, I’ll be eighteen next week, I think I can take care of myself.” He downed half the glass in one gulp, to the delight of his legion of onlookers.

“Ok then, king.” she checked the table next to him for refills and heard the door open behind her. “Oh, hello Aaron. What brings you here at this hour?”

Aaron had his hands jammed into his pockets, “Just looking for my father, Lottie.”

“Aaron Stempel!” Jason shouted from his chair, “Join me for a drink, won’t you?”

Aaron looked at Lottie and took the seat opposite Jason. “Lottie, I’ll just have a beer. Hello Jason.”

“Well Aaron, care to take me on??” Jason waggled his wrasslin’ arm at Aaron.

“Oh, Bolt, I don’t...” “C’mon Aaron, it’s my left hand, surely you can beat me left handed??”

Jason’s right hand was still bandaged from his saw injury.“Yeah, Aaron, go ahead.” A voice from the eager crowd goaded him on. “All right, Bolt, I’ll take you on.” Aaron started to roll up his sleeve. Lottie

brought him a beer and he took a big gulp. “Who wants to make a little wager??” One of the loggers said to the

crowd, who immediately inundated him with money. The citizens of Seattle loved to see Jason and Aaron go against each other. It was some of the best and cheapest, entertainment in town.

Finally, the money was collected and the hands were clasped. Lottie watched disapprovingly from behind the bar. This could only end badly, she thought.

“Go!” shouted the bookie, and for seconds, neither Jason nor Aaron moved. The strain only showed on their faces. Jason was thought to be the stronger of the two, but no one was willing to dismiss Aaron either.

Their arms would go Jason’s way, then Aaron’s. They were practically nose to nose, sneering and huffing and puffing, like pigs squaring off in a pen.

Every muscle in their upper bodies was tense and bulging. Neither was about to let the other have an inch.

“So, how’s your girl?” Jason finally hissed out.“Fine, Jason, and yours? Oh, I forgot...she took her business back to

Tacoma. “ Aaron hissed back. That comment surprised Jason and bought Aaron a couple of inches on his side. But not for long, as Jason began his march of millimeters toward his side of the table.

“Why you.... You can’t hold me!” Jason cried, but felt his hand begin to slip. His arm muscles were more fatigued than he figured, after a long day of swinging an axe and the evening of arm wrestling.

Aaron set his jaw and once more tensed his arm for an attack. He could feel Jason give just a little and he went for the kill. Jason’s arm went down with a large bang.

The crowd drew its collective breath. “I win.” Aaron stated simply, draining his glass and walking out of the

saloon. Jason watched him leave, rubbing his skinned knuckles. “Damn you,

Stempel,” he muttered as the winners and losers exchanged money their shouts alternating between groaning and cheering. He stood up to charge after Aaron, when he saw the imposing figure of his father standing in the doorway.

“Jason, might I have a word?” Jonathan asked in an even tone. He stepped back outside and Jason stormed after him.

“Father, before you say anything...” Jason began, gritting his teeth at the figure of Aaron walking out of town.

“Son, let’s just go home. I don’t want to leave the boys alone too long.” He put his arm around Jason’s shoulders and slowly they began to walk home. He could feel the tension in his son’s shoulders as they walked. He intended to walk until the boy relaxed. Jason had never acted so wild and willful before. First the saw injury, now this, drunk and disorderly at Lottie’s. Jonathan sighed while Jason walked with his head down. It was times like this when he missed Julia’s wisdom.

“Is there anythin’ on your mind, son?” He had to start the conversation somehow. He and Jason had always been very close, and Jonathan was used to Jason confiding in him.

“No, Da.” Jason did not look up.“I don’t believe that, son. Ye’re not actin’ yerself. Is something wrong?”“No, Da.”“It’s not like you to spend the evenin’ drinkin’ and carousin’. Ye’re not yet

eighteen, Jason.” “Sorry, Da.”Jonathan sighed and tried once more. “Ye looked like ye had the devil in

ye’re eyes when I walked into Lottie’s. What happened?”“Oh, just a little arm wrestling. I beat everyone except Aaron Stempel.”Jonathan nodded his head imperceptibly. “Oh, I see.”

“Damn him. He thinks he’s so great. The Great Aaron Stempel. I can see it now, on a great big sign in giant letters above the mill.” Jason spat out the words, but was met with silence. “He thinks I’m not good enough...I’ll show him!”

“Jason, I don’t recall Aaron ever actin’ like he thought that. Are ye sure ye are not exaggerating??” Jonathan knew Jason’s temper, so this was made as a quiet suggestion.

“No, Da...I..I...” Jason’s thoughts were swimming in the beer he had consumed. Jonathan held him as he retched into the foliage.

They walked a ways in silence, feet crunching in the undergrowth. “Son, “ Jonathan began again. “Ye can’t be gettin’ into fisticuffs with

Stempel. Other than beating you in wrist wrestlin’, I don’t think he’s ever done anythin’ to harm ye. I know ye’re rivals, but ye both have to find a way to work together. After all, ye will be runnin’ the town’s businesses someday.”

“Oh yes, the laird of logging...” “Jason, I don’t want to have this conversation with ye right now.” He

rapped his son firmly on the back as they stood at the front door of the cabin. “Now, get yeself to bed and sleep this off. We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

The Bolt men entered the cabin, an oil lamp illuminating the room only slightly for Jeremy’s sake. Jeremy and Joshua were snoring lightly, but soundly in their bunks. Jonathan kissed them both and adjusted their blankets. He listened for the sounds of his eldest son washing up and looked again at towheaded Josh and little Jeremy. “Oh Julia,” he whispered, his head leaning on his forearm, “God help me I love these boys so much. How can I help them with their pain, darlin’, when I’m in so much pain meself. Send down an angel, darlin’, I need some help...”

Dear Crystal,So much has been happening lately, I haven’t had time to write. I wish

you were here, Crystal, as I have no one to confide in, and I’ve got some confiding to do. I’m still seeing a lot of Aaron, I guess he’s my boyfriend. He’s a good fellow, and I like him a lot. He’s nice to me, he thinks I’m beautiful, and he delights in kissing me. However, lately my mind has been drifting to his friend, Jason Bolt. Jason is admittedly handsome, but is a boorish ruffian who lives in the woods. We have never exchanged kind words, yet I find myself thinking about him more than I should, with Aaron being my boyfriend and all.

“I don’t know what to make of this, Crystal. I’ve been seeing Aaron steadily these past couple of months, and he’s everything I should want in a boyfriend, but I can’t figure out why this Jason Bolt keeps entering my thoughts. He and Aaron are bitter rivals in this town, and I can see Aaron doesn’t want me to be too friendly toward him, not that I would anyway, remember that bath story I told you? However, I just don’t know what to think.

“Things at the store must be going well, my mother has a lot of money saved up. My father doesn’t look good though. He’s always worrying so much about the store, it’s almost like he doesn’t even know how much they are making.

“Willie is still a scourge, but he remains confined at school, or at play with his new friends.

“That’s all for now, Crystal. I remain your friend most affectionately,Charity Hamilton

The large black clouds slowly made their way toward Seattle, enveloping the tips of the mountains in black cotton. Charity frowned as she watched them, dreading the torrential downpour that was to come. Fall had arrived, and the Seattle weather, never known for its long dry spells, had definitely taken a turn for the rainy. Rain meant mud and mud meant mess. The floors she had challenged herself to keep clean would be no more. Four inches of every hem of every dress she owned was stained from mud. Just getting to town from this hut in the woods was like slogging through the primordial ooze. It was during Seattle’s many rainstorms that she missed Tucson the most. Folding her arms and sighing, she turned back to the chess game she was embroiled in, awaiting Aaron’s next move.

Finally satisfied, Aaron leaned back in his chair. “Ok, your move.” he noticed Charity staring off into space. “Cherry?”

She snapped back, “Oh. Yes.” Distracted, she sat back down at the board.

“Cherry, are you mad about the weather again??” Aaron had already heard enough bellyaching about the rain to last him a long while; and it was still early in the season.

“Oh...” she forced a smile. “No, of course not Aaron. After all, what can I do about the weather....” Her rook arrived very near to Aaron’s queen. “Check.” she said, again looking off into the distance.

Aaron scowled and turned his concentration toward the board. “Aaron? How old were you when your mother died?”“I was young, I don’t remember her at all.”“Well,” she sized him up once again, “She must have been tall.”“Yes, I guess.” Aaron did not take his concentration off the board. “Did you know Jason’s mother?” Aaron felt the usual unease in his midsection whenever she mentioned

Jason. “Yes, a little.”“Was she nice?” Charity leaned on the porch post.Aaron shrugged. “Yes, I guess so. I didn’t see much of her, you know.

She stayed at home with Joshua and Jeremy most of the time.”“Oh. It must have been hard on Jason when she died.” “It’s hard for anyone when their mother dies, don’t you think?” So Jason

will beat him in the sympathy vote too!“Well, I mean, you were just a little boy, he was almost grown.” “Yeah, so what? You don’t think I missed my mother when she died?”“Well, did you?” she asked plainly, her eyes on him.Aaron stopped his bishop in mid move. “I don’t remember.” he answered,

his voice filled with sadness. Satisfied with the protection of his queen, he placed his bishop back on the board. “Your move.”

What Charity could not bring herself to say, or barely even to think, was that as far as mothers were concerned, she wished she was in Aaron’s or even Jason’s place.

She absently moved a pawn over one square. “So, why did you leave Tucson?”

“My father said we were going.”“yeeesss,” she huffed. Aaron could be very exasperating. “Why??”“He didn’t want to be a rancher anymore, I guess. Maybe he didn’t like the

heat. Maybe he could be an even bigger shot here in Seattle owning the only mill, than he could in Tucson owning one of many cattle ranches.”

“Hmmmmm. Do you miss it?”“Tucson?”Charity rolled her eyes, “Yes Aaron, Tucson.”He nodded, “Sometimes. I liked the ranch life. Cherry, are you playing or

not?”Triumphantly, she moved her rook over one space. “Checkmate.”

George Stempel walked through Seattle, boots kicking up small splashes of mud. The rain was annoying, yet he knew that the harsh weather of the Washington territory helped to produce strong trees that in turn created quality lumber. He had a good business going, and was not anxious to retire. Young Aaron was coming along as a businessman, if he just wasn’t so serious all the time. Part of being a good businessman was the ability to talk to people, make them comfortable with you so they’ll want to bring do business with you. Aaron hadn’t quite mastered that technique yet, but it was heartening that he at least had a girlfriend. He certainly would not want him to end up like Philip Hamilton, a failure at nearly everything. In fact, Stempel was headed for the store right now, to find out what was going on. Hamilton keeps asking for more time for the store to turn a profit, a request George didn’t understand. The store traffic was steady, and they placed supply order after supply order. What were they doing wrong??

Just as he put his muddy boot on the entrance to the store, someone came running down the path into town . It was one of the loggers, he was soaking wet and dirty, and his shirt was torn.

“Mountain lion!” he shrieked, waving his cap in the air, “Mountain lion!!”He burst into Lottie’s saloon, falling over his feet in the process. George decided that confronting Hamilton could wait and followed the man in.

George could see it was the Canadian named Peter, who slumped against the bar, surrounded by the patrons, telling his tale.

“....and ...and it was huge, biggest cat I ever saw!” he exclaimed between gulping breaths, “....it had great big paws, and...and”

“Here Pete, drink up.” Lottie poured him a whiskey and set it down with a bang. “Catch your breath.”

He took a deep lungful of air and downed the whiskey. “It looked really mean, like a mama, protectin’ her cubs.....” Lottie refilled his glass and he downed it again.

“So, where did you see this cat, Pete?” Jonathan Bolt’s voice rose above all the others.

“Well Jonathan, that was the surprisin’ thing. It was right on the ridge near the creek. I’ve never seen one that close before.” Pete began to catch his breath as the crowd continued to fire questions at him.

Jonathan caught George’s eye and joined him at his table. “So, what do you think, George?”

“I think we’d better remind everyone to be vigilant, but Bolt, there’s a lot of ground out there, I don’t think we should encourage a panic.” Stempel lighted a cigar.

“I agree George, this town doesn’t need a panic. But knowin’ it was so close does worry me. I mean, the path on the ridge is quite heavily traveled, and anyone of us could be caught at any time.” Jonathan took another sip of his whiskey.

George puffed away, “Well, Bolt, I think some warning is in order, but we also have a couple of big contracts to finish, and I’d like to see this put behind us as soon as possible.”

Jonathan nodded and invited Pete to the table for a chat.

“Jeremy?” hissed his brother“Yeah?” Jeremy said in not quite a whisper“Ssssshhh,” came the quick retort. “Whisper, Jeremy. We don’t want to

wake him up.”“Ok.”“Now, you go put the basin outside where the rain water can get into it.”

Joshua Bolt was no fool. Why go out into the rain when you had a little brother to do it for you. He watched as Jeremy picked up the wash basin and padded over to the door.

“Josh, it’s c..c..cold.” he complained, but upon seeing Josh wave him on sternly, he braved the storm. It was still dark out, and cold and rainy. He carefully placed the basin on the porch railing where he heard the satisfying plunk plunk of rain begin to fill it up. He hurried back into the house and shut the door behind him.

“Good job Jeremy.” Josh pulled his freezing little brother into the bunk with him. “Warm up, then you have to go out and get it.” He looked over at his big brother snoring on his cot.

“You..you.. d...don’t think J...Jason will be m..m..ad at us, do you?” Jeremy also peeked over at the snoring lump.

“Naaah, it’ll be funny.” They waited, their silence punctuated by a stray giggle or two, for a few minutes. “Ok Jeremy, go get the basin. And don’t spill anything.”

Jeremy brought the white basin back inside, sloshing a little water along the way.

“Be careful!” Josh admonished him in a stage whisper. Climbing out of bed, he joined Jeremy in the center of the room. They crept toward Jason, who

was in a deep slumber. “One....” they each grabbed a side of the basin. “Two.....” Their eyes and their matching grins met, “Three!”

And with that, they poured the basin of cold rainwater on Jason’s unsuspecting head, “Happy Birthday Jason!” they shouted in unison.

“Wha....Aaaaauuugh!” Jason shouted when the full realization of what happened hit him. “I’m gonna get you!....”

What the boys did not factor into their prank was the lack of hiding places in their tiny cabin. Jason tucked the squealing Josh under one arm and Jeremy under the other.

“Why...I oughta paddle the both of you!” he yelled, shaking his mane of hair, splashing water down both of his brothers’ backs. Josh and Jeremy howled with laughter.

Jonathan stood on the porch outside the front door with the armload of wood he had just collected and smiled at the sounds coming from within.

“Well, now, what a grand way to say good mornin’ I’d say.” Jonathan said, laughing, as he came in. Jason stood there, brothers in arms, wet long johns dripping onto the floor.

“I’m not so sure I agree.” Jason said. “I might have to..” he continued, edging toward the fire, “...throw these two in the fire!” His brothers shrieked in response.

Still chuckling, Jonathan turned toward his brood, “So, do ye feel any older today, Jason?”

Jason shrugged as he set the boys down.“Do ye think he looks older today, boys? After all, he’s eighteen now, a

man full grown!” Jonathan surveyed his oldest, with the younger two also giving him the once over.

“Naaah..” said Josh.“n..nn..nope.” said Jeremy.“Well, how do ye feel, Jason?” Jonathan couldn’t help beaming. Oh Julia,

I wish you could see our boy. He ached to feel his wife at his side. “Wet, Da. I feel wet. Other than that.... ummmm... hungry.”“Aaah yes, ye need to keep ye’r strength up now that ye’re a man! How

does bacon and eggs do ye?” Jason’s raised eyebrows gave him his answer, “All right son, get out of those wet clothes and today, I’ll make breakfast!” he looked at his two younger sons, “You two get dressed too, or Jason might eat everything hisself!”

The steady rainfall had turned to sheets by the middle of the day. Charity opened the front door to the cabin just to watch it cascade off of the roof. She tried to have a positive thought. Aaron was always after her to adjust to the Seattle weather.

“You can’t change the weather, Cherry, why do you expend so much energy complaining about it?” he would say, “Just wait an hour and it will change.”

“Yes, it changes from gloomy and cloudy to full blown rain.” she replied, gloom clouding her face as well as the sky.

So, she was trying to find something positive to say about today’s rainstorm. Well, at least it was raining, and not just overcast and gloomy. Ummmm, the sound of rain on the roof is nice. Ummmmm, the waterfall in front of the front door is pretty, although it pretty much traps her inside the cabin....no, no, that wouldn’t do.

She drummed her fingers on the windowsill, and tried to think of something to do. She picked up her embroidery and forced herself to do some stitching. She was bored. This place was boring. Especially with all this rain keeping her cooped up indoors. The rain would even keep Aaron late at the mill, preparing for potential flooding.

“Ouch! Shoot!” she pricked her finger with the needle and angrily tossed the stitching aside.

What she didn’t want to admit was that even her relationship with Aaron was getting boring. He was still everything that he always was, but Charity found herself not as excited about his visits as she used to be; and that was a little scary. She wasn’t sure what had changed, and she didn’t want to mention it to him. Not that he’d actually talk about it anyway. It seemed like everything in her life had been afflicted with the same dulling sameness as the gray weather. The store was still not profitable, she still didn’t know why that pile of money was under her parents’ bed, and George Stempel was getting impatient.

“Well, what a grump I am.” she said to the four walls. I’ve got to go into town, or I’ll lose my mind. Rain or no.”

Bundling herself up as best she could in the yellow rainslicker that hung by the front door, she took a deep breath and sloshed through the waterfall that encased her front porch.

Once arriving in town, she wondered where she would go. She glanced at Lottie’s place and remembered her kindness upon their arrival here. She wandered through the doors, knowing it wasn’t quite the place for a lady.

“Well, hello Charity.” Lottie smiled as she wiped up the bar. “May I get you something?”

“No, I’m just looking for someplace dry.”“Well, have a seat young lady, it’s plenty dry in here.” Carefully, Charity came out from under the slicker and hung it by the door. “Lottie, there’s not much to do here, is there?” she plopped herself at a

table, and Lottie joined her. The only other customer was old Barney and he was already sleeping in a chair.

“Well, I guess that depends. I usually have plenty to do.” “But, there’s nothing exciting here, Lottie. I’ve been here for three months

now and I don’t even have a friend.”“Charity, you walked into this town and directly into Aaron Stempel’s arms,

I don’t think you even made an effort to meet any of the other girls around here.” Charity shrugged. “Well, Aaron was nice to me. Lottie, a suitor is

important.”“Yes, that might be true, but...”“...but even that’s not too exciting anymore,”

Lottie surmised why she was having this visit, “What do you mean, Charity?”

“Well, I mean...we do the same things all the time. Y’know, walking, playing chess, talking. Aaron’s not a big talker, though. He doesn’t tell me much.” She wondered if she was doing the right thing, talking to Lottie.

“Well, you know as well as I do that Aaron’s a little shy.”“Lottie, we don’t talk much, but we sure do kiss well.” Charity looked down

at her hands.“Really?” Lottie’s eyes widened, “Well, that must be exciting.”Charity giggled, “Well, yes. I think it means we’re in love. But other than

that, I don’t really feel in love.” The mere fact that Aaron desired her was almost enough. To know that she had an effect on someone, that she was wanted, needed even, was the most wonderful feeling she could think of.

“Charity, kissing doesn’t equal love.” Lottie wondered why Charity’s own mother hadn’t spoken to her about this. Then again, she had met Jeannetta, so it didn’t really surprise her. She would just have to step in, before this girl got herself into trouble. ”Kissing is just...just...well bodies talking. And men’s bodies, especially young men’s bodies, talk a lot louder than they should. Don’t begin to think that that is about love. Real love comes from the soul and the mind, not just the body.” Lottie spoke from experiences she would rather forget.

“But Lottie, if the body is happy, wouldn’t that also make the soul happy? Wouldn’t that turn into love?”

“Not necessarily, hon.” she hesitated a second, wondering how far she should follow this train of conversation. “Charity, you and Aaron haven’t.....”

“Oh no, Lottie. Aaron’s very proper.” Proper indeed. Charity’s thoughts rushed back to an evening last week when she and Aaron had had some time alone.

“C’mon in Aaron, my parents are not home.” Charity stood on the doorstep of the tiny cabin.

Aaron looked around suspiciously. “Well, alright, but just for a minute.” He sat down at the small table, eyeing the empty teacups.

Charity cleared the table, then came up behind him and put her arms around his neck. “It’s nice to be able to meet indoors for a change,” she purred into his ear.

He liked the feel of her breath, warm and sweet, so close to him. He reached up and stroked her arms. “Yes, it is.” he murmured.

Her arms tingled to his touch. She turned and kneeled before him. He pulled her to him roughly, their teeth cracking with the force of their kiss. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath his skin. She only wanted to be closer...closer to him. Aaron lifted her onto the table where she would be nearer his height. He began to kiss her milky white neck, down to her barely concealed breasts. He thought he would burst with the desire of her. Her hands slipped inside his shirt and caressed his skin. It was so good, so good...so..

“Cherry...” he gasped, pulling away from her embrace. “We have to stop..”

“Why, Aaron?” she touched his cheek and noticed a lock of his black hair curling on his forehead. “why?” Her lips were full and shining.

“...It’s..it’s not...we..what about your...your reputation...” His breathing was still heavy.

“..that’s my problem, isn’t it?” “No...I mean...it’s...” the internal conflict showed on Aaron’s face. He was

not happy about this decision, he wanted nothing more than to have her. However, one of them needed to keep their heads about them. A girl’s honor belonged to her alone, but once besmirched it belonged to two, the one who owned it and the one who took it away. Aaron wasn’t ready to be that one. In fact, he was surprised to find himself unsettled by her forwardness.

“It’s just...not the right time....Cherry, I’d better go now...” he continued in a ragged voice. He shook his head and used all his strength to step away from her.

He left her there, his last vision of her sitting on the table, hair askew, lips and knees parted as if to beckon him back.

Lottie couldn’t help but notice that she sounded disappointed. “Honey, proper ain’t bad. Lots of girls wish their men were more proper, not less...”

“Yes, Lottie, I know....I’m just...”Suddenly, another yellow slicker burst through the saloon doors. “Cherry?” It was Aaron, soaking wet from stem to stern. “What are you

doing here? I mean...it’s raining!”“I just had to get out of the house for awhile.”He strode over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You know, Lottie,

she never goes outside in the rain. This is quite the occasion!” He grinned.Lottie smiled and winked at Charity. “Oh? Well, good for you, Charity.”“Yes, good for me,” she echoed. Lottie bustled her way back to the bar,

leaving the young couple at the table. “So what brings you into town? I figured you’d be sandbagging that mill for another few hours.”

“Well, Bolt’s men were a big help, so we did it in less time than usual.”“Was Jason able to help?..I mean..with his hand and all.” she added

quickly.“Yes, he was there.” Why did she always had to bring him up?“You know Aaron, it’s Jason’s birthday today. Maybe you should wish him

many happy returns,” Lottie called to them. She was expecting the Bolt clan for dinner to celebrate and already had a cake in the back.

Aaron laughed, “Lottie, he hasn’t spoken to me since I beat him in arm wrestling.”

“Never mind that, Aaron. He’s your friend, and you should wish him a happy birthday. Let bygones be bygones.”

“Lottie, I’m perfectly willing to do that.” Aaron stressed the ‘I’m’. “I’m just not sure if Bolt is ready...” he turned to his companion, “Cherry, I noticed that my father was over at the store, let’s go see what’s going on.”

Actually, Aaron, she thought, I have no desire to know what is going on with my parents. However, there was, as usual, nothing else to do. “Sure, let’s go.” He helped her with her rain gear. “Thanks Lottie.” she called.

“Good day, Charity. Aaron.” she shook her head as the door shut behind them.

Chapter 4

Aaron and Charity arrived at the store just as George Stempel was storming off. They watched as he splashed his way across the square, heading back to the mill. They went inside and saw Philip Hamilton looking shaken.

He drew a deep breath and forced a smile. “Hello there Aaron.” he said, forcefully pumping Aaron’s hand, as usual. Barely acknowledging his daughter, he rubbed his forehead as if to banish the throbbing there.

“So, what brings you two here?” his voice took on a false sheen of pleasantness. Aaron and Charity could both tell that the conversation between their fathers had not been a good one.

Charity shrugged, “Oh, just wondering what was new over here.” Aaron remained silent.

Her father’s face retained it’s tightness. She could see little beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “Oh, not much. Business is a little slow today, you know, owing to the rainstorm and all.” He tried in vain to be cheerful, but he needed to change the subject. “I did hear about another mountain lion sighting last night.”

Another mountain lion sighting??? Charity was chagrined that she hadn’t heard about the first.

“Really?” Aaron chimed in. “It’s unusual for them to be so close to town. I hope we don’t have to get a posse together.”

“Well, you two be careful when you are walking around those woods.” Philip said, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.

The emotions were so oppressive in the room that Aaron knew he had to get out. “Well, we’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Hamilton. Shall we go, Cherry.”

“Sure Aaron. Bye Daddy.” she waved to her father from under her rain slicker.

“See you later.” Pumping Aaron’s hand again he continued. “Always a pleasure to see you Aaron. Have a good day.”

They walked without speaking, listening to the rain pound the ground around them. Aaron knew his father was not pleased that the Dry Goods store was not making more money. He had been pretty much supporting the Hamilton’s for months, certainly expecting to see a return on that investment by now. Aaron was sure that, judging by the state of Philip Hamilton, this investment was exactly what they were discussing. He wondered how much Charity knew of her parents’ troubles. She seemed pretty disconnected from

them, like a loose branch twisting in the wind. Aaron could not imagine not being close with his father. After all, even though they did not always see eye to eye, all they really had was each other. In this sort of country, families had to stick together. Charity was abnormally quiet, though.

“You alright?” he ventured as they arrived at the cabin.“Yes, fine. My father didn’t look so good, though.” “Oh, he looked fit to me.” Aaron lied.“Well, anyway, I think I’ll just stay home. Maybe I’ll make something for

dinner.” It was time to find out what was going on with the money under the bed.They shared a chaste kiss and Charity went inside. Aaron wheeled

around and walked toward the mill. He would try to get his father to give them some more time. He wasn’t about to lose Cherry without a fight.

“Hello Mother.” Charity said in her best mock-cheerful voice. “Lovely weather we’re having...”

“Hummph.” Jeannetta was bent over the wood stove, stirring the contents of a large soup pot. “And where have you been?”

“Oh, I just went into town to see some people. I was lonely out here.” The cabin was already stuffy from the fire roaring in the fireplace, and she could see the smoke accumulating along the ceiling.

“In that dress?” her mother exclaimed. “I hope you didn’t get too soaked.” Charity looked down at her same old blue dress, soiled from the knees

down from the muddy walk. She sat by the fire and fanned out her dress to dry. “Not too bad. I had my slicker on.”

“Oh yes, and that’s a lovely thing.” she slurped a taste of soup from the large stirring spoon.

Charity remained silent. She stared at the carvings on the fireplace stone. She drifted off into her thoughts, as her mother chattered away in the background. She wondered what the lady of the Bolt household was like. Was she beautiful? Was she a refined lady, or a woodsy woman? Which of the boys looked like her? It certainly wasn’t Jason, she thought, he was a slender but otherwise exact version of his father. Maybe Josh, he was so blond. Did she like it here, in this miserable little space? Was she happy here with her boys and her husband? Charity glanced over at her mother, who was frowning as usual. Her mother took no pleasure in her husband, or in her children. There was nothing Charity could do to make her mother happy, so lately she had stopped trying.

“Charity?? Charity, are you listening to me??” her mother snapped.“Yes...of course Mother.” she shook her dress out some more. “Please go and find Willie. It’s nearly supper time. He’s probably at that

Bolt house with those boys.” “Mother! Do I have to go back out in the rain!!” she whined. Her mother

only glared at her in response. Charity stood up, grabbed her rain slicker from its peg and stormed out the door.

She threw her head back, letting the still heavy rain pelt her face. She whipped the hood of the slicker off, and the rain began to run off her hair and down her back. She didn’t care how she looked, she didn’t care where she was

going. This life was awful. Trudging around up and down these muddy paths, standing in the minuscule store, nowhere to even get a bite of lunch or tea. Her boyfriend didn’t want her, no one wanted her.

Sullen and soaking wet, she pounded on the door of the Bolt cabin. “Miss Hamilton?” Jonathan said looking quizzically at the wet thing on his

porch, “What brings you here at this hour?”Charity tossed her wet hair out of her face. “I was just looking for my

brother, sir. I hope I’m not bothering you.”“Certainly not. Come in out of the rain.” he motioned for her to follow him.

“Boys, we have a guest!” Charity saw the three boys seated around the table, conical hats on their

heads. “Did you come for Jason’s birthday party?” Josh asked.Charity’s mouth dropped open. That’s right, Lottie did mention something

to Aaron about it being Jason’s birthday. And here she was, interrupting his party! “Ummm, no, I was looking for Willie,” she stammered.

“Can ye stay, Miss Hamilton?” Jonathan asked, pulling out a chair. She glanced over at Jason, who smiled weakly. “Oh no, I couldn’t...” She

did have a moment to admire Jason’s leather jerkin, laces only halfway cinched. “I really have to go.” she gulped. “Have you seen Willie?”

The boys looked at each other and shrugged. “Well??” Jonathan asked, his voice stern. It wasn’t good for youngsters to

be out in this kind of weather, and with a mountain lion on the loose, it was much more serious.

“No Da, he left a while ago. We thought he was going home.” Josh said. Jeremy just nodded his response.

Jonathan looked at Charity. “Are ye sure you won’t stay, lass, we’re about to have some supper.”

“No, no...I’ll go on home. I’m sure he’s there by now. Happy Birthday Jason, many happy returns of the day.” she said, dropping the tiniest of curtsies, her waterlogged clothes leaving a puddle on the wood floor.

Jonathan opened the door for her. “Let me know immediately if your brother is not at home, Miss Hamilton,” he said, his forehead creased with worry lines.

“Yes sir, Mr. Bolt. Sorry to interrupt.” She backed out the door quickly, listening to the jovial bantering from within the cabin. She couldn’t remember a time when her family just sat around the table and laughed.

The atmosphere around the mill was thicker, somehow, than the rest of the town. Maybe it was the proximity to the river, maybe it was the constant supply of sawdust, but when Aaron was there, he realized his chest heaved with the effort of breathing. The saws buzzed and clattered, setting his teeth on edge. He wondered whether he would ever get used to the noises of millwork. He nodded his greetings to the workers, as his eyes darted around for a glimpse of

his father. Finally, his trail of cigar smoke gave him away and Aaron saw him admiring some freshly milled lumber being readied for shipping.

“Father!” Aaron called, trying to be heard above the noise as he walked.George saw him and began to shout. “Just take a whiff of the air, son.

Why, it’s like roses and honeysuckle all rolled into one.” George stroked the lumber he was examining as Aaron approached. “Look at this beauty! Why, Jonathan Bolt and I are going to be rich, with beautiful timber like this!!” George was nearly sputtering in his excitement.

Aaron gave the lumber a cursory glance. “Father, I need to talk to you.”“Right now? Where’s that girl of yours?” George peered closer at the

grain of the wood. “I tell you Aaron, it feels good to sell a product that has as much quality as this lumber!”

“Father, I wanted to talk to you about Charity and her family.” Aaron put his hand on his father’s shoulder and tried to lead him off the mill floor.

George scowled. “Aaron, that is no concern of yours.”Aaron continued to have to shout to be heard. “How can you say that

Father?? Charity is...well, she’s special to me. I need to know what is going on.”“You worry about your girl, and let me handle her family.” George said

dismissively.“That’s not good enough for me.” Aaron stood his ground.George looked up at his son, slowly. “And what exactly would be good

enough for you, son?” Only now did he walk away from the milled lumber out the back door to the riverbank; Aaron following in silence. George took a few puffs on his cigar before he spoke again. “Aaron, you might not realize how much I’ve invested in the Dry Goods store, and in the Hamiltons in general. “ He continued quickly, before Aaron could interrupt. “Philip Hamilton did not have a pot to piss in when he left Tucson and came here, you do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes Father, I do. I also know that the mine you convinced him to buy in Tucson was no good, and it broke them.”

“Yes, well...” George hesitated for a moment. “That’s why I encouraged them to move out here. That’s why I offered them this opportunity to begin again. I did do right by them, Aaron, I did.”

“Maybe so, but what now? Cherry and I stopped in at the store this afternoon, and Mr. Hamilton looked like he was going to pass away, right then and there.”

George hesitated again. “Well, Aaron, I didn’t want to tell you this yet, but...well... I told him I thought they should be moving along.”

Aaron’s mouth dropped open. “You what? How could you do that?”“Aaron, it’s business, that’s all. I run a mill. That takes all my capital and

attention. It’s been three months and there are no profits. Aaron, how could there not be any profits? Obviously, they must be mismanaging it somehow. I just can’t afford to expend any more energy or money trying to get it going. We don’t have that much spare cash. I paid for their passage, I pay for their food, clothing..”

“But where will they go? They just can’t leave! Cherry just can’t leave...” Aaron implored

“Aaron, I’m sorry. I know you are fond of the girl, but my hands are tied. I’ve got a mill to run, and if I can’t, Bolt will take his business elsewhere.”

Aaron threw up his hands, “And where would that be, Father? There isn’t another mill around for 40 miles!! Father, please give the Hamiltons some more time...I don’t want to lose Cherry....”

George closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at his son. “I’m sorry, son. It’s just got to be.” He turned toward the river, with his back to Aaron’s shaking body.

Charity sloshed her way back to her house, cursing her mother for sending her on this errand. Of course she did not find Willie; and in the process, she appeared to Jason Bolt on his doorstep - on his birthday - as a wet dishrag.

She could see her parents through the front window, but what was worse, she could hear them through the front window. They were arguing, their words harsh and loud. She stood as close to the window as she could without them seeing her.

“I’m telling you, Philip, you don’t have to take that man’s bossing you around and giving you the what for any more.” Jeannetta was wagging the ladle at her husband.

“Oh, and what do you expect me to do about it?? You do the books, you know what’s going on, what can I say to him? Jeannetta, he’s been supporting us for months!” His hands were shaking as he pointed at her for emphasis. What did she want from him? So many failed ventures in their twenty years of marriage... he knew what he had been reduced to. He knew. “He wants us out. Now.”

Jeannetta reached under the bed with a flourish, “Well, Philip. I think I’ll be able to solve our problems quite nicely. “ She dropped the bag of cash, by now quite substantial, on the table.

He fingered the bag and looked back at her, “...and what is this?”“This...” she opened the bag and fingered the cash inside. “..is our

independence. Our success.”“Jeannetta, where did you get this??” Philip’s eyes grew large as he

realized how much money was in the bag.“Philip, we can use this money to leave this sinkhole.” She smiled

wickedly.“Where did it come from??” she did not answer right away. “Jeannetta,

where did all this money come from??”“You said it yourself,” she said coyly, “I do the books. This is

just...well...profit sharing.”“We..have..no...profits..” Philip’s bile was rising as he realized what his

wife was telling him.

Charity’s stomach was turning as she too, came to the realization of what her mother had done.

“Well then...call it a ‘down payment’ on profit sharing. Oh come on Philip, Stempel has more money than God, he’ll never miss this, and with it, we can get on our own two feet.”

“My God, Jeannetta, you’ve been stealing from the store?? Our own store??”

“It’s not ‘our own store’ Philip. It’s Stempel’s store. Just like it was Stempel’s mine that went bust in Tucson. It’s time for us to make it on our own.” She put her hands on her hips and looked straight at her husband.

“Oh my God.” Charity muttered. “Oh my God.” Her mother was stealing, like a common thief. A thief. The words ran endlessly through her mind. What would George Stempel do if he found out? He would put them all in jail, that’s what. I worked at that store too, she thought, horrified. She could be found as guilty as her mother. Oh my God, what was she thinking??

Charity turned and ran up the path, toward the mountain, her feet squashing through the mud. She had to get away from this... this craziness. She was not going to jail for her mother, that was for sure. She stumbled on the unfamiliar terrain, but kept going, needing to be as far away from that cabin as she could.

Jonathan Bolt rapped on the door, sons in tow.Philip answered it, hands and voice shaking. “Yes?”“Mr. Hamilton, the boys and I were on our way to town, and we were

wonderin’ after Willie. Young Charity stopped by looking for him, and I wanted to be sure he was safe.”

Philip stared at him stupidly. “Willie?” He looked behind him. The cabin was empty, Jeannetta and her bag were gone. “He’s not here.”

Jonathan ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Have ye seen him? I might be a little worrit about him at this point of the evenin’.”

“No..no one’s here. I don’t know where Charity and Willie are.” He stared blankly at Jonathan and his family.

Jonathan, seeing the tension in Hamilton’s face, turned to his sons. “Jason, you’d better go out and start lookin’ for them. I don’t like them bein’ missin’ in this weather and all.” he looked back at Philip. “Mr. Hamilton, we’ll go into town and get some men together to look for the children. You stay here in case they come back.”

Philip nodded blankly. Jonathan wondered what had happened to the fellow, but it was more important to find Charity and Willie before the roaming mountain lion did.

“Go, Jason.” he barked. Jason sighed and strode off up the mountain path. He was well familiar with Bridal Veil Mountain; however, in the dark and during a storm it was a much different beast. Carefully, he negotiated the rocks and underbrush that had turned to mush, hoping that he wouldn’t have to go far. After all, it was his birthday.

Her run slowing to a walk, Charity trudged along wet, muddy and miserable, her sobs swallowed up by the wind and her tears by the rain. She had no destination in mind, unfamiliar with this part of the mountain as she was, but wanted only to put distance between herself and Seattle. She sobbed for what she had lost, and she sobbed for what she had never had. She wished for nothing more than to have loving arms enfold her and comfort her. Mother, brother, lover, it didn’t matter. Only now did she realize how truly alone she was, her parents incapable of giving her the love that she needed. Obviously, they couldn’t even take care of themselves, let alone her.

No way was she going to let anyone find her. She would walk to Canada if she had to.

She cried for her home and friends in Arizona. It wasn’t that it was so much better there, but at least in Tucson she didn’t have to deal with this...God...Dammed...Rain.

As she uttered the curse, as if God himself was listening with a disapproving ear, she tripped on some unseen obstacle and landed face down in a large, deep mud puddle. To make matters worse, her left foot was painful and throbbing.

She cried out to the trees that surrounded her as she tried to right herself and wipe the mud off of her face.

Standing up was another matter, however. Her foot was wobbly and too painful to support her weight. Hyperventilating from pain, she tried to concentrate on getting air into her lungs. She pulled and scooted herself slowly out of the puddle to some more solid ground. “Oh God...can I just die now??” she cried, her tears coming fresh and hot down her icy cold cheeks. Knees drawn up to her chest and her bravado gone, she rubbed her aching foot and rocked back and forth, sobbing.

Lottie served her patrons this evening with a distracted air. There was something going on, she could feel it. It was not like Jonathan and the boys to be late for a celebration; and certainly not one as important as this.

And then there were the Stempel men, sitting at opposite ends of the room, never casting a glance in the other’s direction.

And then there was whatever was going on between Jason and Aaron. Lottie didn’t like it that Jason and Aaron were at each other’s throats. She had watched them grow from young awkward boys to...well.. older awkward boys. Like it or not, she had an emotional stake in their lives, and was determined to help them to preserve their fragile bond.

Lottie was fretting about her boys, her men. Somehow, maybe by virtue of her position as one of the only permanent females in town, she had accepted the job of mothering Seattle’s menfolk. It filled a need that Lottie only barely knew she had.

She looked from Aaron to his father and marveled again at the fact that they were related. George was a round squat man who would blind you if you encountered his pate on a sunny day. He had an ever present cigar between his teeth, and his pocket watch in his hand, as he enjoyed the feeling of the silver on

his fingertips. Dark, angular Aaron could not look any more different than his father and once again, Lottie wondered what his mother had looked like. But the differences did not end there. Aaron rarely drank anything stronger than beer, George drank that for breakfast. George was a flirt and probably a cad; Aaron, on the other hand, seemed to be a one-woman man. Speaking of one-woman, Lottie thought, where was Charity tonight? Usually, she and Aaron were always together. She wondered about the effect that she and Charity’s little talk may have had.

After what seemed like hours, she heard a clamoring at the door and she smiled at Jeremy and Joshua Bolt as they tumbled over themselves in their haste to reach her. She enveloped them in outstretched arms; kissing them both and ruffling their hair. She looked over at Jonathan and noticed that Jason was nowhere to be seen.

“Jonathan?” she said as the boys nuzzled her, “Where’s the birthday boy?”

“Lottie m’dear.” he leaned in so near to her his beard tickled her ear. “Please take the boys in the back. I need to talk to Stempel.”

“Is it Jason?” she could barely form the words, and hugged the little boys tighter.

He shook his head. “No dear. I’ll be back with you in a minute.” She did as he asked, guiding the boys to her back room.“Aaron.” Jonathan greeted, his voice strained. “Where’s your father?”Aaron shrugged in his general direction. “Well, I need to talk to you both. Now.” he said, striding over to George;

Aaron following sheepishly. “Jonathan. Sit down.” George greeted his friend and motioned to the

empty chair next to him. “George, I think we have a problem. The Hamilton children have gone

missin’.”Aaron leaned in to the conversation. “What??”“Well, young Charity stopped by our house some time ago lookin’ for her

brother, and now both of them are missin’.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw Aaron tense up and he clamped his hand onto his shoulder. “Now Aaron, don’t go off all half-cocked. I’ve already sent Jason out to look for them.”

“Jason?? You sent Jason out after Cherry?” Here comes that sinking feeling again.

Jonathan looked quizzically from Aaron to George. “Well, yes Aaron. He’s familiar with the mountain and I wanted someone to get started lookin’. “

Aaron harshly brushed Jonathan’s hand from his shoulder, “Well, I need to go after her.”

“Wait.” Jonathan commanded and the force of his voice stopped Aaron in his tracks. He turned to George and spoke in a hushed tone. “I’m worrit about the mountain lion situation. I’d like you two to get your guns, just in case.” They nodded in tandem. “OK, good. I’ll get the youngin’s settled with Lottie and then I’ll join you.” The Stempels moved toward the front door, while Jonathan veered

to the back. He opened the door to hear laughter from his young sons. They were bopping each other over the head with the birthday decorations.

“Jonathan? What’s happened?” Lottie sidled over to him.“Lottie, I’ll be needin’ the boys to stay with you tonight, if that’s ok.” he said

softly. “Charity Hamilton and her brother have gone missin’ and the Stempels and Jason and I are going to look for them.”

Lottie’s heart sank. She worried whenever anyone from the town was lost, but these two children couldn’t possibly know their way around. “Certainly, Jonathan. They’re always welcome here.”

“Ok boys.” He knelt down between them, barely missing a spoon to the head. “I’ve got to go help Jason look for Willie and his sister now. You stay and listen to Miss Lottie, and I’ll be back soon with Jason and we’ll all have some of this fine lookin’ birthday cake!”

The boys scrambled to hug him. As Jonathan was about to leave the room, the door to the back washroom opened slowly. As all heads turned in that direction, Willie Hamilton poked his shaggy head out.

“Willie!” Josh and Jeremy squealed. Jonathan stood there, stupefied. “Come out here, young man.” he

boomed.Like a scolded dog with ears back and tail between his legs, Willie slowly

emerged from the doorway.Jonathan strode over to him and knelt in front of him. “Boy! What are ye

doin’ there??” he boomed.Willie looked down and scuffed his toes. “Um...Sorry, Mr. Bolt. I...I...” Jonathan saw a tear hit the floor next to his boot. “What is it, Willie?

What’s wrong??” He pulled him close. “Why were ye hidin’?”“My...my parents were fighting.....I was scared....so I came here.” Willie

could not make eye contact with Jonathan. Jonathan nodded slowly. “Well. I’m glad to see ye, that’s for sure. Have

ye seen your sister? She was out lookin’ for ye.” Willie shook his head. “I been here awhile, Mr. Bolt. I haven’t seen her all

day.” Jonathan looked up at Lottie again. “Well, Willie. I’m going to go and look

for her, so you stay here with Miss Lottie and the boys for now.” Lottie smiled back at him.

“I’ll see ye all later.” Jonathan left the room and closed the door behind him.

Spying George and Aaron, shotguns in hand, at the edge of the square, he called to them and quickened his pace. Jonathan cursed himself for sending his son off without a gun to protect himself. He explained that Willie had been found, and they were to focus on finding Charity. Aaron lowered his eyes.

“Why don’t you two go east, and I’ll go north after Jason, and we’ll see if we can find a trail. How far could she have gone?”

Stempel looked upward, and felt the still steady rain on his face. “Finding a trail is going to be difficult in this weather, Bolt.”

“Well, we have to try.” Jonathan nodded and ran in the direction of his cabin, leaving George and Aaron together.

“Let’s go, son.” George said in a hushed tone. “Be quiet and careful of the cat, now.”

Aaron glared at his father, “It’s not the cat that I’m worried about.” He turned on his heel and strode off, his long legs carrying him twice as far as his father short ones, leaving him to play catch up.

Jason was making sport of his mission. Having only been an official man for less than a day, he still derived childlike enjoyment from measuring the size of his splashes. He was soaked to the skin, his new buckskin jerkin and all. He shivered as the cold rain dripped down his boots. Calling out for Charity and Willie intermittently, he mostly was looking for signs that they had been on that path. Even using his hand as a shelf to block the rain from his eyes, it was hard to see anything. However, off to his left he spied something blue. Definitely not a color usually found in this evergreen setting. He snatched the small square of fabric off the branch it was stuck on. Probably from Charity’s blue dress, he reasoned. Well, at least he was on the right track. He continued to call her name, more loudly now to drown out the wind in the trees.

Charity allowed the rain to wash the mud off of her face. She remained rooted to the spot she was in, afraid to move for fear of the pain in her foot and ankle. As long as she was still, she was ok. Her body was still racked with sobs. She would not make it to Canada, she would have to go back to Seattle and face everyone there, and probably go to jail for her mother’s misdeeds.... Just then, she heard something. She listened with all her might. Oh, just the wind in the....no wait, there it was again. It was a voice. She tried to calm her breathing long enough to get a shout out.

“Help me!” It came out as more of a squeak than anything else. The voice again. “Charity!” It was calling her name. Maybe it was

Aaron...or Jason Bolt. “Over here!” she called, a little louder this time.“Charity!” It was clear to her now. It was Jason Bolt.

Jason tried to follow the little yelps he could hear to where Charity was. All he could see was a lump in the mud. “Charity, is that you?”

Her heart jumped into her throat. “Yes, Jason, over here!” She turned around to see him running down the path.

He knelt down next to her and brushed her hair out of her face. “Charity? Are you all right?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh Jason, I’m so glad to see you!” she cried, burying her face in his miraculously warm chest.

He responded by wrapping his arms around her. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“Jason....” Her sobs came back with renewed vigor. “I fell and hurt my foot... I can’t stand up...”

“Oh....It’s ok, Charity. Don’t be afraid.” He patted her back gently, but awkwardly. “Don’t cry now. It’ll be all right.” Moments passed before her breathing became normal again. Meanwhile, he racked his brain trying to figure out exactly where they were.

“Look, we have to get out of this rain. You say you can’t stand up?” She shook her head solemnly. He took a look at her swollen ankle, and

noticed the unique way it was splayed inward. No, she would not be standing on that foot anytime soon. He took a deep breath and picked her up into his arms. She locked her arms around his neck for safe keeping.

Jason looked around. It was late, dark and getting colder by the minute. Charity’s sobs had turned to shivers, and some shelter was in order. But where??

He had no choice but to continue upward. He slowed his pace to accommodate the bundle in his arms. What the hell was she doing out here all by herself, in the rain, no less.

“Jason...I’m so sorry...” she was still crying. Something must have upset her deeply, he decided. The Charity he knew would not be reduced to this behavior by merely getting lost.

“It’s all right... I’ll look after you.” he murmured comfortingly into her ear, all the while keeping his eyes and ears alert. What could have possibly happened between the time she stopped in at his house and now?? Her father did not look normal, that was true, but she hadn’t even been home...or had she??

Charity’s sobs and shivers were fighting it out amongst themselves. She kept her arms around Jason for dear life, with her face buried in his chest. Her foot was still aching, especially hanging as it was, and every jarring step brought her another stab of pain.

He could feel her body trembling in his arms. He knew the feeling of being so cold you had no defense against it, cold that took you over like a gust of winter wind. He pulled her as close to him as he could. “I’m sorry you’re cold, Cherry, we’ll find shelter soon.” Without realizing it, he used the nickname he always heard Aaron call her. He could only hope that they would find shelter soon, for both of their sakes. He could not carry her all the way up or down the mountain, his logger’s strength would get him only so far.

When he thought his legs could carry them no farther, he noticed a structure up on the left side of the path. Surprisingly, he was not familiar with this building, even though he had been over every inch of this mountain all of his life. The cabin was about 50 feet in front of them when he heard a sound that made his skin crawl.

It was a low growl. He took another tentative step. The sound came again. This time Charity heard it too. “Jason!” she

hissed.“Ssshh.” he stood absolutely still, listening. Then he saw the eyes, green

and cold, about 15 feet beyond the cabin. The eyes of a mountain lion.

“Oh God,” he muttered to himself. “What now?” He looked to his right, then to his left, slowly, taking in the scenery for potential getaways. Where exactly could he hide his six-foot four-inch self not to mention his lame companion?

“Charity, I’m going to try to get us into that cabin over there.” he said. “Sorry about this..don’t scream...” he pleaded as he hoisted her over his shoulder, fireman style, so at least one arm could be free.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and remained silent. Jason crept sideways toward the left side of the path. Every crunching branch, every crackling needle caused his heart to race. He kept sidling up the path, never taking his eyes off the cat’s. Soon they were close enough to the cabin to see that the door was facing them, not the cat.

“We’re almost there, Charity.” he whispered, not expecting her to hear.They worked their way closer and closer to the cabin.

About five feet from the door, the cat had decided she had had enough of playtime and began to stalk her prey, her low growl getting louder.

Jason’s breathing was quick and shallow and Charity was scared into silence. However, her entire body continued to tremble uncontrollably. Jason could see that they were both not going to make it in the door. “Cherry, “ he said in a low voice. “I’m going to get you in the door. Slam it after you. Hopefully I’ll be able to distract the cat long enough to get inside also. Be ready at the door. Don’t open it unless I tell you to.” no response. “Cherry? Did you hear me??”

“Yessss.” the sound was of air only. “Jason, I’m scared.” “Me too.” Oh Lord, yes. “Are you ready?” Not waiting for a reply, he took

a giant step toward the door of the cabin. He saw the cat echo his step with one of her own.

“One..“Two..“Three!” He used her body as a battering ram to bust the door open, and

tossed her unceremoniously into the cabin. “Close the door, Charity!” he yelled, and scurried away from the cat, who was drawing ever nearer. Charity did as she was told, kicking it closed. She dragged herself up and over toward the small window next to the door and tried to peer out. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she just might die. Shooting up a quick prayer on Jason’s behalf, she craned her neck looking for him, but couldn’t see anything for the darkness. She vowed to stay next to the door until Jason called to her, no matter what. She had to believe he would call to her, although the cat’s growl had turned to a snarl, and was very loud. “She must be right here.” Charity whispered to herself.

Jason moved nimbly through the brush, the cat keeping her distance. He hoped to draw her away long enough for him to high-tail it back to the cabin. He knew he was moving, but did not feel that his brain was connected to his body. Surely this was not really happening. Surely he was not about to be eaten by a mountain lion.

He tossed some rocks off into the distance to try and distract the cat, but she was focused right in on him. Every step he took was matched by one of hers. And hers were bigger. One more leap and he would be dinner. He could no longer hear her growling for the pounding in his ears. He couldn’t see much of her, just her eyes and unfortunately her teeth, glowing in the moonlight. He wondered what of him she could see, that she could be so incredibly focused.

He backed up another step and stumbled; tumbling into the soft ferns. The cat saw her opportunity. She leapt toward him, claws outstretched.

Jason yelled as he struggled to get up. The cat swiped his chest with her huge paw, her claws like daggers, tearing him open. The pain shot through him like fire, and he fell down for what he thought was the last time.

But then, as if by reflex, his right hand balled into a fist, pulled back and slugged the cat right in the jaw. She reeled back from the shock, snarling, just long enough for him to get by her and race to the cabin. “Charity, the door, the door!” he shouted with his last breath.

As if by magic, the door opened and he fell on his face after leaping inside the cabin. She shoved him to one side and slammed the door behind him, just in time to hear the scrape of the mountain lion’s claws on the wood. The cat snarled again and then, silence.

Charity, lost in the blackness of her pain, collapsed beside Jason, who also gave up his pain to unconsciousness.

Chapter 5

Charity blinked and tried to adjust to the small amount of light that filtered in the cabin. She was able to discern that it was moonlight, so it was still evening. It took her a few breaths to remember where she was. The place was dank and smelled of old smoke and coals. The floor she lay on was rough hewn and splintery and squeaked with her every move. But, she was alive. She looked down at Jason, lying very still next to her. She put her shaking hand on his back to feel his breathing. It was there, steady and strong.

Reassured, she caught a glimpse of two wooden boxes next to the door. Slowly, she dragged her aching body over to one, and flipped the lid up. In it she saw kindling and - lo and behold - matches! A fire! They could have a fire! Charity’s heart leapt at the thought of finally being warm. She looked inside the second box and saw a couple of tall bottles of liquid. One was brown, and one clear, both unmarked. Uncorking the bottle of clear liquid, she took a test sniff. She shuddered at the odor, it was like the medicine her mother used to clean out their cuts. Reclosing that bottle, she tried the other one. It smelled just as bad.

“Jason??” Gently she shook him. “Jason...can you hear me?” “uunnnnhh.” he groaned in response. Slowly, he picked up his head and

turned toward the voice he heard. “Charity? Are you all right?”She shrugged. “I suppose so.” she brushed the hair from his eyes. “Oh

Jason, I’m so glad you’re here.”

He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his right hand. “ow!” he responded reflexively. With a great effort and Charity’s help, he rolled over onto his back, exposing his injuries.

Her stomach turned and she gasped when she saw his wounds. “What is it?” Jason, alarmed, tried to look at his chest. “Ohhhh..” he

murmured, his head dropping back to the floor.

The cat had left her mark on him. Three large, parallel scratches about five inches long graced his chest. She had clawed him right through his heavy leather jerkin. The blood had pooled around the scratches as he lay on the floor, causing them to turn all shades of purple and blue, and although they were mostly dry and crusty, there was still some blood oozing from them.

“Oh Jason...” she wanted to caress him, to let him know how much she appreciated his coming to her rescue, but was afraid to touch him for fear of causing him even more pain.

He wiggled his limbs a little. “Actually, it’s not too bad.” he said but winced again. “Well, not too.”

She could barely take her eyes off of his moonlit face. His cheekbone, scraped raw from sliding over the wood floor, was bloody and looked painful. His eyes were shining, though, and for that she was grateful. Remembering the foul smelling liquid, she slid over and grabbed the bottle of clear fluid, tore off a piece of her petticoat, and drenched it with the stuff. Then she began dabbing his wounds.

He remained stoically silent. It just wasn’t manly to cry out in pain, though his fingernails were digging into his palms. Just then he caught a whiff of what she was putting on him..

“Charity? What is that?”“I don’t know. I found it over there, and it smelled like medicine, and I

wanted to clean you up so...”He took the bottle from her, and struggled to sit up again. This time he

was successful. He took another big sniff. “Charity, this would be much more medicinal if it was going down our gullets, not cleaning up our scrapes.” He could see that she did not understand. “Rum, girl. It’s rum.” He took a swig, just watching him caused her face to prune up. Ignoring her face, he offered it to her. “It’s good. It will warm you up.”

To change the subject, she pointed at the other box. “Jason there’s some kindling and some matches over here also.”

“Good.” He handed her the bottle. “C’mon, you need some of that. Drink up, now.”

She frowned, but his insistence wore her down and she took a large sip. Too large. He smiled at her reaction of pure disgust. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. It’ll help with your pain also.” Grimacing, she put the bottle down next to her. Actually, it was quite warm going down her throat. Charity thought she had forgotten what it was like to be warm. She hoped he could hurry and get that fire going.

He stood up slowly, steadying himself on the door jamb, and took stock of his injuries. First, he looked at his right hand. He had reopened the saw injury and it was bleeding and sore to flex, but he didn’t think it was broken. What was strange was that he couldn’t remember how he hurt it. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure if it was the rum Charity had liberally poured on, or the injuries themselves. They weren’t too deep, thanks to his buckskin shirt. Damn, my new shirt... It was shredded and bloodied beyond repair.

The moonlight continued to shine in the small window and illuminate the cabin. Jason caught a glimpse of the fireplace, and noticed there was wood stacked up next to it, as if someone was waiting for company.

Relying on his left hand, he tossed the kindling into the fireplace and lit it. The wood had been stored well and the fire blossomed right away, flames climbing up the chimney. He also lit the small oil lamp that was sitting next to the fireplace which gave off a small golden light.

In the firelight, he discovered the room was nearly empty save for the few things they had already discovered. There was no furniture, and only a few skins and an indian blanket tossed carelessly on the floor along the wall.

“This place must have belonged to a trapper, look at those skins,” he said, pointing to the pile. Trappers were known to throw up small illegal structures during the trap season, and abandon them when the season was over. Jason gathered up the skins and the blanket and laid them out in front of the fire. He turned to Charity, who was sitting quietly and still except for her shivering.

“Are you still cold? Have some more rum.” Jason admonished her. After watching her suffer through another too-large swig, he took pity on her. Ignoring his own pain, he picked her up and carefully placed her on the skins, keeping her foot well out of harm’s way.

She looked up at him, her face shining in the golden light, “Thank you Jason.”

He lay down, exhausted, next to her, closing his eyes and feeling the fire warm him from the bottom up, while the rum warmed him from the top down.

“I think I’d better finish cleaning you up, Jason. I know this stuff can be used in a pinch as a disinfectant.” She was surprised to realize she could feel her fingertips again,. He was right she thought, taking another drink from the bottle, it was warming her up.

“Oh....all right, if you think you must.” he said, looking up at her with a forced smile.

She began to peel the layer of suede away from his skin, her fingers gentle and tentative near his wounds. The open laces she had admired earlier in the evening were gone and his shirt was ripped nearly completely in half. Tearing another large swatch from her slip, she began again to lightly dab his scratches with the rum. He closed his eyes, but other than that, showed no emotion. She could not tell if she was hurting him or not. The slices were deep, but she could see that the heavy leather jerkin had saved him from a fatal injury. He would be scarred, though. His smooth, muscular chest would have three matching scars across his rib cage.

The act of cleaning him up soothed her. He lay very still under her hands, eyes closed. When she was satisfied with the chest wounds, she took his right hand and looked it over. The saw injury was bleeding and his knuckles were scraped and swollen. She began her methodical cleaning process on his palm.

“Jason,” she said softly, “What happened to your hand?”Never opening his eyes, he shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t

remember much after the cat scratched me. Are you about done with using that good rum as a cleanser? Can we have some more to drink?”

It did not go unnoticed by him that she had begun caressing his hand, finger by finger.

He could not move. His pain slaked away with the rum; and the fire warmed and relaxed him. He could hear her voice, but it sounded far away.

“I’m so sorry to cause all this trouble, Jason. I never meant for all of this to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t, Charity.” he replied, hoping that she would not stop her fine work on his hand. “People get lost all the time up here.”

“Well, anyway....I owe you Jason. I owe you my life.” she bent down and whispered the last line. Her hair brushed against his bare chest, a not unpleasant sensation.

He sighed, “Let’s not get melodramatic, Charity.” One of the few parts of him that was not numb or in pain began to react to her touch. Somewhere in the back of his mind the mantra, Aaron’s girl, Aaron’s girl, repeated itself.

Sitting up hurriedly, he reached for the rum. “How’s your foot?”“Well,” she said, examining it at a distance, “You must be right about this

rum, my foot doesn’t hurt as much as it did.” It might not have hurt at the moment, but it sure looked bad, that much he

could tell. Her boot was straining at the laces from the swelling, and it still was pointing in the wrong direction for a foot. “Maybe we should take this boot off so I can have a look.” Gently holding her leg, he undid the laces on the boot and tried to slip it off. He could see her wincing in pain. But she did not make a sound. “Are you ok?”

“Yes.” she replied through clenched teeth. “Just get it over with.”Finally he was able to get the boot off. Her ankle was swollen and black

and blue. Gently he pressed around the ankle and foot.“Ow! Please stop, Jason...” He looked up to see tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Charity, I’m

sorry.” He scrambled back to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

They sat for awhile in silence, sipping their liquid anesthetic. Charity was beginning to feel pleasantly light-headed.

“Jason.” she turned to him with a half-smile. “How exactly did you get away from the mountain lion? I couldn’t see through the window.”

He concentrated deeply, the effects of the rum playing with his mind also. Suddenly he drew a great breath. “I remember! I know!” He leaped up and stood in front of Charity.

“She was coming after me, step by step.” he mimicked the prancing motion of the cat. “And..” he tried to maintain his focus. “...and, I was trying to lead her away from you, I mean from the cabin..”

Charity watched him, her eyes shining in the firelight. “Anyway...” Every swing of his arms made the shorn buckskin of his shirt

slap his sore chest. “She looked really mad, evil, with her green eyes glowing in the moonlight, and her teeth! Well...they were massive, like daggers waiting for the kill.”

“Oooh, I’m sure I would have just fainted dead away from the scare..” Charity played along, getting caught up in Jason’s enthusiasm.

“Oh, I’m sure you would have....” Damn, this slapping shirt was very painful. It was getting hot in there anyway. He began to slip what was left of it off, “You don’t mind, do you?” he looked over at her.

She shook her head, wondering if he could see how flushed her cheeks were. “Oh, no...”

“Anyway... I tripped on something” he mimed his falling backward, “And then she was on me like a fly on molasses...and this is the good part. I just hauled back and punched her, square in the jaw!”

“Oh my!” Charity squealed. Jason punching a mountain lion? She had a hard time believing that one, even of him. “Very funny...now, what really happened?”

He plopped down next to her again, “That’s what really happened. I punched the little bi...” he looked downward, trying to find an appropriate word, “...you know. But I punched her, I must have knocked her out, and that gave me enough time to get back here!” He took a deep breath, very self-satisfied. He looked at his hand, still red and swollen, with new-found respect. “That must be what happened to my hand.”

She still looked skeptical, but took his hand in hers again to look it over. “Well, I guess it’s as good an explanation as any.” she said, smirking.

“Charity!” he roared. “I do not lie.”“Ok..ok” she laughed, and he joined her. It felt good to laugh. In fact, she

was feeling absolutely giddy at this point. “I guess you truly are my hero.” she batted her eyes with an adoring grin, and began kissing his hand with little pecks. “My hero....my hero.”

Exhilarated by his tale and driven to distraction by her alluring lips on his skin, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. To his surprise, she returned his ardor. Carefully, he laid her back down on the soft skins, still locked in an embrace.

“Charity...I..” he murmured. “mmm...my hero, Jason.” she put his finger to his lips. Love me, love me,

she all but screamed. I can make you happy, I will love you...He leaned down and kissed her again, more insistently this time. For a

moment she thought she should be nervous, but she felt safe and warm here, with him. His breath tasted sweetly of the rum. She ran her fingers down his back, feeling his soft skin and his hard muscles.

Jason thrust his tongue into her mouth and, not expecting it, she coughed and giggled. He grimaced, but tried again, more successfully this time. Once warned, her lips parted immediately. Coming up for air, he looked down at her expectantly. She licked her full lips enticingly and he thought he would burst with the desire of her.

Emboldened, his hands moved to the buttons of her dress.“Cherry..” he whispered, waiting for her confirmation.She could feel his hands at the ready as she replied, “Yes..” Even in the soft firelight, he could see the flush of her skin as he opened

her buttons, one by one. He spread her bodice out like a book and saw her firm breasts straining through her thin cotton camisole.

His hands trembled as he undid the laces there, releasing them to his care. His eyes widened as he drank in the sight of her, golden and pink in the flickering firelight. Oh, he wanted this girl, this woman. He realized he had ever since he first saw her, wrapped in bubbles in her bath. He slid her muddy dress down the length of her body, as if he was opening a Christmas present. She giggled as he took her breasts in his mouth, his light growth of beard as well as his tongue tickling her skin.

Charity realized she had the advantage in that Jason was already only half dressed. She wanted to be everything to him, to give him her all. Any worry over her inexperience disappeared. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

She gently stroked his chest, carefully avoiding his scrapes, and traced the lines of his muscled arms from shoulder to wrist. Her hands worked their way down his back to the waist of his pants where she struggled to release him. Finally, working together and laughing softly, they managed to get his leathers off. Charity drank in the long lines of his body. Years of physical labor had left his young body taught and lean. She couldn’t keep her hands from stroking every inch of him.

Naked in the firelight, they kissed for minutes, or hours, or days, neither could say. All the tension and fright of the day passed out of them as they explored each others’ bodies, mindful of their injuries.

“You are so beautiful..” he whispered , tearing his mouth from hers for a moment.

She looked up at him, watching the fire flicker in his impossibly blue eyes. “I could say the same....”

Jason enjoyed her with the exuberance of a puppy loose in a meadow, especially when her hand traveled down to his groin and she wrapped her fingertips around him.

“Show me...” she hummed.He was only too happy to do so. His breathing grew more ragged with every stroke, but he did not want to

finish this way...not tonight. He rolled over above her and her legs parted in anticipation. He surely

could show no more restraint. She arched her back and groaned as he entered her, stopping him suddenly.

“....wha..what is it?” he gasped. She held his hips for a moment as she adjusted to the sensation, then released him from her grasp.

She took a deep breath, “Yes, yes.” He moved slowly inside of her until he could feel her relax under him, then

sped up, never averting his eyes from hers.She raked her fingers through his curly hair and down his back,

concentrating on the sensations emanating from her midsection to every point on her body. He could feel his need rising and as she tightened on him once, twice, three times, he knew he could wait no longer. He watched her eyes as she closed them and arched to receive him even more deeply. Her breath coming in short gasps, lips parted without thought, her body was filled with delicious sensations that she couldn’t define, only feel.

He exploded inside of her with a low moan. She followed, matching his ferocity with her own, their bodies quivering with pleasure.

Her heart racing, Charity pulled him to her and held him tightly. He was warm and she could smell the musky scent of him, of them. Even their breathing was an intricate dance of push and pull as they lay together, neither one daring to move.

“Jason...” she whispered, chest heaving.“hmmm” was all he could reply.“That was my first time.” He slowly turned them to their sides so his aching arms and hands could

rest. Looking deeply into her eyes, and still feeling her warm rum-sweetened breath on his cheek he smiled shyly, “...mine too.”

She returned his smile. “Happy Birthday, Jason.”Rapt in each other’s arms, the events of the day a long way behind them,

they fell into a deep and blessed sleep.

Jason awoke at first light, thinking about the marvelous dream he had just had. Then his eyes shifted left and he saw Charity snuggling next to him, her breathing deep and even. Although his entire body ached, he managed to smile. So, it wasn’t a dream. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he extricated himself from their tangle of limbs and skins, looking for his trousers. He couldn’t resist taking one more look at her lovely body before he covered her with the blanket. He slipped into his pants and shook his aching head to try and clear it. The fire was long dead and Jason could see his breath before him.

He tried to put the events of the evening in order, so he would know how to proceed. Lets see... found lost girl, mountain lion, cabin and...and... He looked again at Charity’s peaceful face. And lovemaking.

What a wondrous thing, lovemaking. It was so much more than the birds and the bees, or the crass physical delineations of young men. It truly was the meeting of two souls. Jason remembered his father telling him that. He didn’t know what he meant until now.

Sighing, he realized that this interlude would soon end and they would have to go home. Their families were probably worried sick about them. Not to mention Aaron. Jason felt a stab of guilt at the thought of Aaron. He could never know what happened up here; after all, Charity was his girl. Jason pushed the thoughts of his betrayal out of his mind as he slowly stood up and walked outside.

Charity awoke to a chill in the air. The sun was streaming in the window and she could hear birds chirping in the distance. The rain had finally stopped. However, Jason and his clothes were nowhere to be seen. A moment of panic gripped her. He didn’t leave her here alone, did he? She reached around for her belongings and began to dress. As she slipped her camisole and dress back on, she closed her eyes and remembered how his hands felt on her skin. Oh, it was better than she could have hoped, much better.

“Jason?” she called, uncertain of his whereabouts. She knew her foot would not support her weight, so she was forced to sit on the floor, awaiting his return. In the distance, she heard whistling. She returned to buttoning her dress, stained with Jason’s blood, and patting down her hair.

“Good morning.” he said quietly as he opened the door. He was holding something behind him.

“Good morning yourself.” she said, suddenly shy. “I made something for you.” he showed her what he was hiding, a pair of

crudely crafted crutches. He had used the remains of his jerkin as padding on the top.

“Oh, Jason.” she could not imagine him working so hard for her. “Crutches?”

“Well, “ he sat down next to her. “I figured I wasn’t going to be able to carry you all the way down the mountain, so this was the best I could do.”

She stared at his bare chest. “Oh Jason..” she reached out toward his still angry looking cuts but he stopped her.

“Charity, don’t...” He knew in his present state, if she touched him, they would never leave the cabin. “I mean...we need to get back to town.”

She quickly looked down, embarassed. “oh...yes...of course.” A vague unease filled the air. What was going to happen now?

He helped her to her feet. “There. Try that out.”The sticks were very uncomfortable, as was holding up her foot, but she

appreciated the effort he had made for her and was not about to complain. With each step an effort, they slowly made their way back to the path, Jason never straying from her side. Back to town. Back to her parents mess, and Aaron. Oh, Aaron. What was she going to do about him? She looked over at her companion

“Jason, you...won’t....tell Aaron about...about...”“No, I don’t really see the point of that.” He looked off into the distance.

“We could be in a heap of trouble, Charity. Let’s just keep this between us. Agreed?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes...yes.” So that was it. Things would return to how they were. She bit her lip as tears fell down her cheek. She hoped Jason would think they were tears of physical pain and nothing else.

Aaron sat sullenly at the table in Lottie’s. She didn’t have much of a breakfast crowd, but he was not alone. His father, Jonathan Bolt, and Philip Hamilton were sitting with him, anxiously discussing the search party plans for today. The men had been out most of the night looking for the two missing persons. When dawn broke and they were still empty handed, they decided to regroup over coffee.

Aaron was steaming, much like the coffee in front of him. They did not find Charity or Jason last night, and Aaron had a bad feeling about it. He wasn’t really worried about a mountain lion attack - what were the chances of that, anyway - he just knew that his girl and Jason Bolt were together somewhere, and it was driving him mad.

Philip Hamilton was full of nervous energy. He had relayed the story of his wife and her grand theft and subsequent disappearance to the three other men. George Stempel, incredulous that such a thing could happen under his nose, nonetheless pushed it aside for the moment. Aaron, for his part, was stunned to hear of Jeannetta’s duplicity. He wondered if Charity knew.

Jonathan Bolt’s quiet contemplation was a sharp contrast to Hamilton’s fidgeting. Jonathan could not forgive himself for sending Jason out unarmed after the girl. All night long he had visions of his son being mauled by a mountain lion. Every sound in the night caused him to jump. Once he thought he heard a scream, but he guessed it was just the wind whistling through the pine trees. He held his head in his hands, food untouched in front of him.

Lottie came by to refresh their coffee. “You’ve got to eat something, Jonathan. Keep your strength up.” she said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll find them. Jason’s a smart young man, you know he’s safe somewhere.”

Jonathan pushed his food around his plate. “Oh Lottie m’dear. I’d so like to believe ye. We covered so much of the mountain last night, and couldn’t find so much as a trail.”

“Well, the rain has stopped now, and it’s daylight so you’ll have better luck.” She sounded more sure than she felt.

He sighed and looked over at his companions. “Are we ready to go?”George scooped his last bite of food in. “Yes, let’s go.” The four men stood and filed out of Lottie’s, Aaron last in line. He turned to

say something to Lottie, but thought again and turned his back on her.She sighed as she collected the dishes. She prayed they would find them

soon.

They were quite a sight, the bare-chested young logger with his arm around the disheveled girl hopping beside him, a crutch under her opposite arm.

Jason had worked shirtless many times in mid-summer, but as they neared town he became keenly aware of his lack of clothing. One did not just wander through town without one’s shirt. Of course, he supposed he had a good reason. He glanced over at Charity, huffing and puffing next to him, looking like a drowned rat, and knew he did not look any better. He was certain all of this would be better after some food, as he was starving. He headed them straight for Lottie’s.

“So, what does someone have to do to get a meal around here?” Lottie whirled around at the sound of the familiar booming voice. “Jason!”

Then she caught sight of what was walking through her door. “Oh...children! Oh thank God you’re safe!!” She ran over to pull out a chair for Charity. “Goodness, what happened?” The two of them looked as if they had tumbled down a long, long hill together. Charity’s dress was filthy and torn, and Jason....goodness... what happened to his chest???

Charity and Jason looked at each other. “It’s a long story.” Jason said, settling Charity down in the chair, his arm

throbbing in gratitude. Lottie did not know who to minister to first. “Jason, what happened to

you?”“I had a little run in with our friend the mountain lion.” He collapsed into

the chair next to Charity. “Where is everybody?”She brought them cups of coffee that they nearly snatched out of her hand

. “They’re all looking for you!”“Oh.” Jason took a large sip of the coffee. It was just what he needed. “Charity? What happened to you?” Lottie looked down at her swollen

distended foot. “I tripped.” she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips.“Have you two eaten??” her question was answered by two vigorously

shaking heads. “Well then, let me get you some lunch for starters, and then you can tell me everything!”

“Oh laddie, I’m so glad for ye’r safe return.” Jonathan sighed as he, Jason, and the boys finally returned to their cabin. The afternoon had been a madhouse at Lottie’s as the search parties returned to find their lost ones, and the rest of the town turned out to greet them. Jonathan could only now take a deep breath and relax, with Jason safely within the four walls of their home. He could not imagine his life had anything happened to his oldest son. The one most like him, the apple of his mother’s eye. Still, the sight of Jason’s chest wounds unnerved him. He had come so close to losing him, it was a miracle he was alive. And that crazy story about punching the mountain lion? Jonathan shook his head as the younger boys rattled about the cabin, burning off their excess energy. Looking over at Jason laughing with his brothers, he felt his eyes sting with tears. Quickly, he turned away from the boys and poured himself a glass of whiskey

from the crystal bottle on the hutch. After a few deep breaths to compose himself, he once again turned to his sons.

“C’mere ye wee squirrels.” He grabbed Jeremy about the waist and drew him close to his chest. He sat down at the table, his youngest wiggling on his lap. “Josh, Jason, sit down.”

He looked from one to another. Joshua, the serious one, the image of his mother. His middle child, and the one who would someday handle the details of the business, he was sure of that. Jonathan knew Jason would never have the patience that Joshua had in spades. Little Jeremy, still squirming in his lap, who knew how he would grow up, he was still so young. And Jason, now eighteen, on the cusp of manhood, his bronze chest scarred for life. Jonathan felt his love for his sons so keenly at that moment, he had to speak out.

“Boys...I...I want ye all to know how proud I am of ye.” He squeezed Jeremy tighter to settle him down. “I know it’s been hard since ye’re mother passed away, and...and..I know ye all miss her. I do too. But, ye’ve all become fine young men, and I know she’d be so proud of ye.” He kissed Jeremy’s temple, “Even ye, yon worm...I..love ye all very much.” Jonathan put his fist in the middle of the table, “...we’re the Bolt clan, of Kilmarron, Scotland and Seattle, Washington, and ye’ve always got to remember that, and always stick together. Right?”

“Right.” Josh solemly put his hand over his father’s.“r...r...r..right.” Jeremy followed.“Right.” Jason met his father’s eyes as he covered his little brother’s

hands with his own. He understood what his father was saying to him. He was a man now, in more ways than one, and he would accept the torch his father was passing to him, as his duty and with honor.

Later, after tucking the boys in, Jonathan looked closer at Jason’s wounds. They were deep, but clean, with no sign of infection. He wrapped them with some linen. All the scrapes and bruises were well explained by Jason’s wild story, except for one set.

Jonathan looked at Jason’s back as he donned a shirt. “...so son, ye say the cat struck ye in the chest and knocked ye down?”

“Yes, Da, why?” Jonathan stared at the set of eight parallel scratches running down the

length of Jason’s back and a smile played at the corner of his lips. “Oh, just wantin’ to make sure, that’s all.” They looked to be from an attack, alright, but not of the angry kind. Jonathan wondered what wild stories from last night his son was not telling him.

Aaron, fuming, sat in Lotties, a half-pint of beer untouched in front of him. He and his father had been the last to return to town after scouring the mountain and they missed the initial excitement of the homecoming. In fact, it was not at all the homecoming he had expected or wished for, which explained the fumes

arising from his head. As he entered town, he had encountered Charity in her father’s arms being carried across the square.

“Charity!” he called to her. He ran to catch up with them. “I’m so glad to see you! I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Well, more or less” her father answered gruffly, never breaking his stride. “She’s broken her foot, Aaron.”

“Aaron...I’m...glad to see you too.” Charity put on her finest smile. Oh, this was going to be very difficult... “You won’t believe what happened to us..Jason and I...I mean.. Jason...”

Aaron scowled at the mention of his rival’s name. “Oh, so he found you?”“Yes,” she nodded as her father picked up the pace. “Last night,

and..and..there was a mountain lion...and..”“Last night?” He found her last night...well, why did they only appear

now? “Mountain lion?”“Yes..Jason punched it, but it attacked him, and there was a

cabin..and..oh Aaron, it is good to be home.” her words were tripping over themselves.

Philip stopped walking abruptly. “Aaron, I think Charity needs some rest. Run along now and stop by tomorrow.” He turned and continued his walk.

Aaron stopped in his tracks and stared at Charity waving over her father’s shoulder. Run along now? Why, Hamilton usually greeted him like he was the second coming...now it’s ‘run along now?’

He stormed over to Lottie’s and burst through the door. There sat Jason Bolt, shirtless, holding court in the corner.

“Bolt?” he called, almost stomping over to him. He took a sharp breath when he saw Jason’s injuries., although they didn’t seem to be bothering him too much. It certainly did appear that he had been attacked, though. ”Bolt, where the hell have you been?” ‘With my girl..’ was the implied finish to the question.

“Aaron! You ol’ dog, I’m even happy to see you!” Jason slapped his hand down on the table, wincing with the effort.

Jonathan, sensing the tension coming from Aaron, stood and pulled Jason up with him. “Well, Jason, I think we’d better be gettin’ home, and get you cleaned up. Lord knows you could use a bath!”

Aaron swallowed the large lump in his throat and extended his hand to Jason. “...Thank you for looking out for Charity and ..getting her back... safely.” After all, Stempel, it was more than you able to do...

Jason took his hand gingerly, “Yes..well...you’re welcome, Aaron.” He winced again as Aaron pumped his hand with a death grip.

Jonathan again began to push Jason towards the door. “Thank ye Lottie for feedin’ me son here.” he nodded to the assemblage, “And thank everyone for helpin’ us find these two youngin’s.”

Aaron watched the doors slam after them, never moving a muscle. Finally, George walked over and clapped him on the back, “Sit down, Aaron. Have a beer. You look like you just lost your best friend.”

Chapter 6

Charity sat on her porch, jabbing her darning needle in and out of Willie’s sock, trying to patch it up, one more time. Her foot, propped up on a milk stool, was throbbing and she was frustrated. Two days had passed since her triumphant return, and she had spent them sitting on her porch, waiting. For what, she didn’t know.

Not for her mother because her mother had vanished. After arguing with Philip over the money, Jeannetta stuffed it into a satchel and left, heading for the east hills. George Stempel had alerted the Federal Marshals, but he was not sure she would ever be found, alive anyway. So, in addition to everything else, Charity was now motherless; and homeless to boot. Stempel was not inclined to give Philip another chance to run the store, after Jeannetta’s performance. He gave them two weeks to clear out, lock, stock and barrel.

Not for Aaron, as he was very busy at the mill. He had stopped by a couple of times, but their visits were short and stilted. She wondered what he knew. Could he see it in her face?

Certainly not for Jason. She had seen him only once, when her father took her to the logging camp to see ‘the bonesetter’, one of the loggers well versed in broken bones. After an excruciating session in which she thought her foot would come clean off, he pronounced her ‘set’, splinted her leg and sent them on their way. Jason walked by with his father and greeted her with a polite “Miss Hamilton, I hope you are feeling better.” She nodded in response, staring at him with wonder.

So, here on the porch she sat. Willie was still at school, and God knows where her father was. The chair made a rick rick sound on the old porch boards as she shifted her weight.

Her thoughts turned back to her mother. It wasn’t even so much that she was gone, Charity found she didn’t miss her carping and nastiness very much. It was the way in which she had gone, running off in the night taking with her any chance of her family’s future. What kind of mother would do that to her children? What kind of wife would do that to her husband? Charity knew her father was not always successful at his endeavors, but he never stopped trying...

“Ouch!” her thoughts had gotten away with her and she stuck the darning needle into her finger. She put the sewing aside and sucked on her finger, rocking the chair gently with her good foot.

She picked up the quill and paper that also sat beside her and continued working on her latest missive to Crystal. She would not believe what’s been going on, Charity thought as she dipped the quill and began the day’s writing.

For once, Aaron was glad to be working at the milling machines. The constant flow of logs through the mill provided a cacophonous block to his black thoughts.

He was trying to forget that Charity and Jason had spent the night together in the woods, unchaperoned, but the pictures in his mind were too vivid. It didn’t help that he had not had much time to talk to Charity about what had happened. It also didn’t help to hear the gossip in town. As much as he wanted to believe that nothing happened between the two of them, his imagination was getting the better of him.

Jason Bolt was going about his business, reaping the hero’s rewards everywhere, but Aaron could not stop thinking about what else could have happened. Bolt, Bolt, Bolt. How could it have been Jason Bolt who rescued Charity? Doesn’t Jason Bolt and his family already own the heart of this town? Despite his father’s success in the milling business, Aaron’s feelings of being the johnny-come-lately were always close to the surface. He was beginning to wish he was far away from his father and the Bolts, somewhere where he could make a name for himself.

He wondered if there was any way out of this. He didn’t want to lose Charity, but his feelings of jealousy and helplessness were overriding his good sense.

He guided another log through the violent saw.

The logging camp was deserted, as it usually was during the day, the loggers flung far and wide under the watchful eye of Jonathan Bolt. He spent most of his days traveling from one stand to another, supervising the tree felling for himself. The Bolt Logging Company had a couple of large contracts to fulfill and since the rainy days had set them back, all loggers were working from sunup to sundown. All except one.

Jason sat desolately at the table, the accounting books spread out in front of him. The numbers all ran together for him after about five minutes. He had chewed up four pencils just this morning alone. He would much rather be out with the men, swinging an axe, working up a sweat; than sitting here, his long frame folded up at the table, trying to make sense of numbers. Numbers! Damn these injuries. Father assigning him to do this was torture! This is what he gets for saving a life and getting hacked up in the process? Torture?

Distracted, he ran his fingers through his hair and flashed back to when Charity had done that same thing. He remembered seeing her yesterday and greeting her with a curt “Miss Hamilton.” Under the circumstances, he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t sure how to greet her, or what to say to her. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about her. She was pretty, and had plenty of spunk, that was for sure. But, the fact remained that he hardly knew her, and of course, she was Aaron’s girl.

This secret that they had between them was a tough one to keep. On the one hand, there was her reputation, which would be damaged beyond repair if anyone found out about their dalliance, and of course there was Aaron to consider. Jason found his lack of honor regarding Aaron troubling. It was his first encounter with the beast lust, and while it was fun, the consequences were not very pretty.

However, on the other hand, he was just a little proud of his conquest. After all, hadn’t he charmed another man’s woman into his bed? It was the stuff of Shakespeare! He found himself holding his head up a little higher around the other loggers now that he had actually bedded a woman. He was in their league now.

However, Charity’s face the other day as she waited for the bonesetter was etched into his mind. Her smile as he approached quickly faded as he all but ignored her. He knew she must have been terrified of what she was about to undergo, and he didn’t even have a kind word. After the gentle way she worked on his wounds in the cabin, and he couldn’t even spare her a kind word.

Jason scratched out his figures for the third time, stood to stretch his legs and decided he would go and see how Charity was doing.

“Tag! You’re it, Jeremy!” Willie yelled as he, Josh and Jeremy scampered around in front of the Hamilton cabin. Jeremy, being the youngest and smallest, was almost always ‘it.’

Charity watched from her perch on the porch. Two days without rain had hardly made a dent on the mud puddles that were everywhere. “Don’t get too muddy now, you boys!” she shouted, as they systematically hit every puddle. “Stop! Don’t go...” The boys were headed inside the cabin, whooping dramatically, “in the house! You’re filthy!!” Charity’s words fell on deaf ears as the boys chased each other around the small cabin. Willie and Josh clambered over Charity’s bunk, upsetting her writing materials.

“C’mon Jeremy, come and get me!” Willie yelled, making a run for the door. He slipped on his muddy feet and Jeremy reached out to tag him.

“t..t..tag. Y...you’re it!” he smiled, pleased that he finally won one, then lit out the front door, followed closely by Willie and Josh.

Charity winced as the door slammed behind her. Who was going to clean that mess up, she wondered.

After a while, she heard whistling. Her heart leapt as she remembered Jason whistling the morning they left the cabin. She adjusted her posture and patted her hair as she saw Aaron coming around the corner.

“Hello, Cherry!” he called merrily, waving.“Aaron!” Smile, Charity, smile. “What brings you here in the middle of the

day?”Aaron bent and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Well, I hadn’t seen you

much since you got back, so I thought I’d stop by and see how you were feeling.”“Well...I’m doing alright, I guess. It’s pretty boring sitting around here all

day. Daddy’s ordered some crutches, but I don’t know when they’ll arrive.” she motioned to the other empty chair. “Have a seat. I’d get you some lemonade, but...”

He waved her off, “No need. Just sit tight. I’m fine.” He did take the empty seat, drawing it close to her. “So...” he looked into her eyes, not knowing what to expect, “How are you doing?”

She met his gaze. “Well, Aaron...considering I have a broken foot, my mother’s a thief, and your father is kicking us out of town...I guess...I guess...” she couldn’t finish her sentence. There really was no way to finish it.

He looked down at his intertwined fingers. “Cherry, I’m sorry about my father. I’ve been trying to get him to change his mind about closing the store. I..I really don’t want you to go.”

She put her hand over his. “I can’t say that I blame him for that decision, Aaron. But, I’m worried about where we are going to go now...”

“Well, I’ll keep trying.” He looked back at her, searching her face for answers to his questions. “Cherry...I..was wondering...well, you know...you were gone all day...and night...and...”

Aaron’s question was interrupted by another whistle. Their heads turned together toward the sound. It was Jason, striding down the path, whistling the tune that Charity remembered.

Jason was worried to see Aaron on the porch, but he couldn’t just turn and walk away, so he took a deep breath and continued on.

“Good day Cherry, Aaron.” he flashed his brightest smile.Aaron’s heart began beating more rapidly when he heard Jason use his

pet name for Charity. “Bolt. What brings you here?”“I was just checking on the patient. How are you today, Miss Hamilton.”

He bowed slightly.Charity’s cheeks flushed. “I...I’m doing all right Mr. Bolt. Thank you for

your concern.” Aaron looked from one to the other. He didn’t like the feeling in the air

right now. “Well...as you can see, Jason, she’s doing fine. Thanks for stopping by. Don’t you have some trees to cut down?”

Jason was getting a little tired of Aaron’s possessiveness toward Charity. “Aaron, last I heard it was a free country, I’ll leave when I’m ready.”

Charity bit her bottom lip. She had seen both of these young men when their tempers were up, and it was not pretty. Unleashed upon each other it could be disastrous. Of course, came a little voice in her brain, two men fighting over you is pretty exciting....

“Oh you will, will you.” Aaron sneered, standing to face Jason. “You know, Bolt, I’ve had just about enough of you sniffing around my girl.”

Sniffing? Charity thought. What kind of word was that....“It just so happens I saved your girl’s life, Stempel. At some cost and

threat to my own.” Jason puffed out his chest like an angry dog.Aaron moved toward Jason, who backed up a step. “Did you save her life

Jason, or ruin it?” they took a few more steps in tandem. “I’ve heard the talk in town, Jason. You and Charity, alone in a cabin overnight...Maybe you’d like to tell me exactly what went on up there?”

“Aaron!” Charity called. “Stop it!”Aaron was working up quite a head of steam. “Huh? Maybe you’d like to

tell me why you won’t leave my girl alone?” He took a poke at Jason.

“Well, if I left her alone, she’d be dead by now, wouldn’t she?” Jason ducked the punch, readying himself for another. “You certainly weren’t there for her!”

“I might be able to be there, if you weren’t always around. What happened up there, Jason, what happened??” Aaron’s dark eyes were wide with anger and he began swinging wildly at Jason, finally connecting with his jaw.

Jason nailed Aaron with a hard right, and blood spurted from his nose. Where just a short time before, three young boys were gleefully rolling in

the mud, two angry young men were now pummeling each other. Charity screamed in fright. What little fun to be had was over, replaced by

fear.Jason was at a disadvantage, owing to his fresh wounds, and Aaron was

a scrappy fighter. He tried to punch Aaron while protecting his chest, but to no avail. Finally, he let him have it in the stomach. Aaron cried out in pain, but stood again and blasted Jason in the nose.

They continued fighting for what seemed like an eternity, the sound of flesh connecting with flesh torturing Charity’s ears. She could see Aaron and Jason, both faces covered with blood, and blood soaking through Jason’s shirt.

“Stay...away....from...Charity....” Aaron huffed, sitting on Jason’s chest and thumping him soundly in the face.

“Aaron! Stop! Stop! You’ll kill him! Stop!!!” Charity was trying to hop toward them and she stumbled down the step to the dirt below.

Aaron turned around and moved toward her, leaving Jason immobile in the mud. “Charity!” He ran to her and took her arm.

She shook off his hand and crawled toward Jason. “Aaron, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. He’s already badly hurt....”

“Charity, I...I...” Aaron was afraid of his anger. “I...have...to know... what happened....”

“You don’t have to know anything, Mr. Stempel.” she scowled. “Jason saved my life, and you should be thanking him, not beating him senseless.” She looked at Jason, waiting for a sign of consciousness.

Finally, he shook his head, trying to stop the spinning.“Cherry...I’m sorry...I don’t know what came over me.” Aaron kneeled

down and looked at Jason’s bloody face and crooked nose. “Bolt? Can you get up?”

Jason stared up at Aaron. “Can you?”Aaron shifted his tender jaw and smeared the blood from his nose across

his cheek. “Yes.”“Then, get away from me.” Jason gave Aaron a heave as he struggled to

sit up. Aaron stumbled back a few steps. Jason grabbed Charity’s arm and guided her back to the porch.

Aaron turned on his heel and walked away.

Once again, Charity found herself cleaning up Jason’s bloody face.

“Oh Jason, I’m so sorry...” she hopped into the house to the small pump sink and returned with a wet rag. She gave it to him and sat, exhausted from the effort.

He gingerly held it to his tender nose. It was broken for sure. “Charity, this is a mess. What are we going to do?”

“Well, maybe Aaron has gotten those silly ideas out of his system now...”Jason looked at her askance, “Charity, may I remind you...those ‘silly

ideas’ of his are actually true.”She sighed. “Oh yeah...” She looked at Jason, once again a bloody mess

because of her and shook her head. “I just have to break up with him, that’s all. Maybe once we don’t have an understanding he’ll leave us alone.”

“I doubt that, Charity.” He paused. “Well, I have to get back to camp. I only came by to apologize for ignoring you the other day when you were up there.” Jason backed down the steps.

Charity held out her hands, “Jason...I don’t know what to do...I think we should talk about all of this...”

Jason ignored her gesture and readjusted the rag on his nose. “Not now, Charity. I’ll see you later.” He was already anticipating his visit to the bonesetter. He walked off slowly, shoulders slumped with pain. Damn Stempel, why couldn’t he just leave things alone.

George Stempel burst into the cabin, nostrils flaring. “Aaron!” he roared.He looked around his luxurious abode for a sign that his son was there. He heard some rustling coming from Aaron’s bedroom. “Aaron. Come out here!” he roared again.

Aaron appeared in the front room, rucksack on his back. “Yes, Father?” he said calmly.

“I just heard you beat Jason Bolt to a bloody pulp! What the hell is going on between you two??” George was still shouting, his face getting redder and redder.

Aaron didn’t answer.“Boy, you better come up with something better than that.” he followed

Aaron into the small parlor where he watched him pick up the shotgun. George grabbed his arm. “Son, I’ve heard the talk....you...you can’t believe everything you hear.”

Aaron shook him off roughly and continued loading his rucksack with food and bullets. His silence was deafening.

“Aaron...” George attempted to adopt a gentler tone. “She’s only one girl...there are many fish in the sea....You can’t let yourself get so worked up over a woman, Aaron, you can’t let it cloud your thinking.” George’s eyes widened as he realized what Aaron was doing. “Son, where are you going?”

Aaron looked at him, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m going to go get that mountain lion, Father. Don’t try and stop me.”

“What do you mean, don’t try and stop you? Aaron, you’re no hunter! You’ll be killed! C’mon, let’s go to Lottie’s and have a drink and try to settle this man to man.”

“Father.” Aaron’s voice was devoid of emotion. “I have to do this. I’ve got enough food for a couple of days. I’m going to find that cat, hunt it down and bring it back here. I’m a grown man, Father, you can’t stop me. I have to do this,” he repeated. He slipped into his jacket and walked toward the front door. “Good bye.”

George followed him as far as the door. “Aaron....be careful.” He could see from the way his son’s jaw was set that he would not be dissuaded from this journey.

Aaron turned and marched out the door, heading for Bridal Veil Mountain. George quietly closed the door behind him and poured himself a whiskey.

Dusk came earlier to those higher on the mountain, as the sun dipped behind the forest. Charity was pleased to have the cool air wash over her face. She could not believe what had transpired today. Could she have meant that much to Aaron that he would react so violently to losing her, if still only in his mind? She could not imagine that. And now Jason was plenty upset about the whole thing, and she’d probably never see him again. She could not sort it out, and wondered if any man was worth this much trouble.

She could hear her father rattling around inside the cabin. His cooking skills were minimal, so their diet of late had centered around burnt meat and beans. She put her head down in her hands.

Philip heard about the fight between Jason and Aaron while in Lottie’s this afternoon. Between Jeannetta’s theft and all this sturm and drang between the boys, apparently over his daughter, Philip could see his dream of marrying her off to Aaron Stempel going up in smoke. He was at a loss as to what they were going to do next. And Charity was barely ambulatory.

Absently, he worked on straightening up the clutter in the cabin. He picked up Charity’s writing box and began to put everything that Willie had dumped out back in when he noticed her half finished letter to Crystal. Casting a sideways glance to the front door, he began to read.

By the time he was finished reading, he had a plan.

“Ouch!” Jason yelled as his father felt his nose. “Da! It hurts, alright. It’s probably broken...That’s what I get for fighting...I know, I know...”

Jonathan stepped back, surveying his son. “Ye fiend, I’m not doin’ this to hurt ye.” Jason’s nose was swollen and a bit off center and his eyes were bruising. His chest wounds had opened up and were oozing blood. He was, quite frankly, a disaster.

Jonathan was alarmed. Aaron and Jason had had altercations, even fisticuffs before, but nothing like this. Jason looked like he ended up on the business end of a battering ram. Jonathan knew it must involve Charity. The mystery wounds on Jason’s back were still visible and vivid in Jonathan’s mind.

Jason hadn’t mentioned anything that gone on in that cabin save for the consumption of rum as a painkiller. The imagination did not have to travel far when presented with two inebriated youngsters scared and alone overnight.

However, he hadn’t yet broached the subject with his son. Jonathan wanted to respect his privacy, but this was getting out of hand.

“Well, laddie, I expect you’ll be seein’ Master Will tomorrow to let him have a look at that nose..” He sighed. Lottie had brought up some laudanum, tsked over Jason’s condition and left with a worried look on her face. Jonathan offered Jason a sip of the laudanum. “Here son, this might help you sleep.”

Jason took the medicine without a sound. “...and perhaps tomorrow we can have a conversation regarding what

Aaron was on about today. Jonathan wanted to give Jason one more night to sleep on it.

Jason crawled under his blankets and sighed deeply. “Good night, Da.” He lay still in order to feel the laudanum move through his bloodstream. He imagined it stopping at each of his painful points and then moving to his brain, to shut it off completely.

Philip Hamilton was up bright and early the next morning. The early bird will catch the worm, he thought to himself. He looked at Charity, asleep in her bunk. I’m sorry my dear, but I’ve got to do this, for all of our sakes. He put on his good suit, with Charity’s letter tucked in the breast pocket and walked out of the cabin into the overcast morning. He was the only one in his family that actually liked the Seattle weather. The harsh heat of Tucson made him feel weary all the time. He was born and raised in the Northeast and felt that all that sunshine and heat was unnatural, somehow. Besides, life was full of clouds, why shouldn’t the sky be.

He stopped in at Lottie’s for a cup of coffee. The pot had barely finished brewing.

“Good morning, Miss Hatfield.” he said to a sleepy Lottie as she poured him a steaming cup.

“Good morning, Mr. Hamilton. What brings you out so early today? The store doesn’t open for hours.” She put the pot and potholders down in front of him and walked back behind the bar. “Help yourself.”

“Well, I’ve got to go meet Jonathan Bolt before I open the store. “ Hamilton nursed his coffee.

“Really?” Lottie noticed his attire. “You’re awfully dressed up to go to a lumber camp Mr. Hamilton. Did Jonathan place an order at the store?” Lottie tried to use her fishing skills as best she could.

“Oh, no. I just need to talk to him about something....personal.” He took his time sipping his coffee, steeling himself for the meeting to

come. Finally, he placed some coins on the table. “Good day, Miss Hatfield.” She watched as he strode out. She had a sinking feeling about this

‘meeting.’ Seattle was a small town susceptible to rampant gossip, and the gossip

d’jour was Charity and Jason.

More to the point, about their unchaperoned night in the forest, and what did or did not happen between them. Lottie was no longer surprised how such small minds could produce such tall tales. She herself had seen enough of life to reserve judgment on anyone’s actions, but she could not say the same for the Seattle townspeople. Given half a chance, they would string up Charity and Jason by their thumbs and torture them until they gave them what they wanted...that is, a juicy tale of young lust gone wild.

Lottie would not have been surprised to hear that Jason and Charity had engaged in some unwholesome conduct; in fact, after her talk with Charity, she would be surprised if they had not. It was really none of her business, or anyone else’s for that matter, but she wondered if they had considered the consequences of their actions. Smiling, she realized that if what she suspected was true, there was no way they would have considered anything except themselves. Then Philip Hamilton’s face appeared to her again, and her smile quickly dimmed. What did he have up his finely tailored sleeve?

Drawing a deep breath, Philip entered the logging camp, looking for Jonathan Bolt. He asked one of the loggers seated around the breakfast pot who directed him to the large tent that Jonathan used as office and sleeping quarters.

“Mr. Bolt?” he called into the tent flaps.“Yes, come in.” came the reply. Hamilton opened the flaps to see Jonathan Bolt hunched over the small

table working on some papers.Jonathan turned to see who was looking for him. “Mr. Hamilton? What can

I do for ye?”“I...I’d like to speak to you, Mr. Bolt.” Philip patted his breast pocket for

luck. He swallowed with some difficulty upon noticing how large a man Jonathan Bolt really was.

Jonathan waved him in and motioned to the empty cot that sat next to the table. “Sorry, it’s all I have t’offer ye.”

Philip settled uncomfortably on the cot. It put him at a disadvantage as he was several inches lower than Jonathan. He found himself looking up at the logger. “Mr. Bolt....”

Jonathan looked at him quizzically. He assumed that he was here to offer some thanks for Jason’s efforts in rescuing Charity, but his nervousness was apparent and perplexing. “Yes, Mr. Hamilton?”

“I need to speak to you with regard to your son and my daughter.” Philip said, feeling the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Jonathan put his pencil down and met Hamilton’s gaze. “Yes, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Well...as pleased as I am that your son was able to rescue my daughter, I’m a bit concerned that they spent the night together unchaperoned.” Hamilton tried to keep his voice steady.

Jonathan looked down at his hands, and back at Philip. He could see where this was going, and he had to think quickly. “Well, under the

circumstances Mr. Hamilton, with Charity and Jason as injured as they were, I don’t see how they had any other choice.”

“Maybe not...But I hear that there was alcohol involved.”“I believe they were using it to help ease their pain. Mr. Hamilton, our

children were hurt quite badly. Your daughter has a broken foot, and my son was attacked by a mountain lion. I can attest that they were in no small amount of pain. Surely you don’t begrudge them some medicinal rum?” He was treading on thin ice here...

“Well, Mr. Bolt, I think you and I both know that rum has other effects on the body than just medicinal.”

“Yes....I’m sure it helped them get some sleep.” Hamilton squirmed in his seat. Normally a modest man, discussing these

sorts of matters did not come easily to him. “Yes...well, my concern is what happened between them before they went to sleep.”

“What are ye gettin’ at, Mr. Hamilton.” Jonathan was not going to put words in his mouth.

“Well, I’m sure that Jason...that is....that they...that he...took advantage of my daughter.” Beads of sweat ran in rivulets down the side of his face.

Jonathan sighed. Best not get too emotional. “Did Charity tell you this?”Philip patted his breast pocket again. “She wrote it.” He took the paper

out of his pocket and waved it in front of Jonathan, who could see it was a letter.“Mr. Hamilton, are ye in the habit of readin’ ye’re children’s mail?” “I assure you, Mr. Bolt. It was purely by accident that I came upon this.

However, it does not change the fact that...that...my Charity is now sullied...her reputation is ruined. How will she find a husband now?”

How was she going to find one before, Jonathan thought sourly. “Well, Mr. Hamilton, I’ll have to talk to Jason about this.”

“Yes...yes...you’d better. There are consequences, Mr. Bolt. Consequences to ruining a young girl’s reputation. Consequences to taking what is not yours to take.” Philip stood and puffed his chest out. He hoped he’d made his point. He knew Jonathan Bolt to be an intelligent man, and would probably figure it out. “You know, she was nearly betrothed to Aaron Stempel.” Philip followed one white lie with another. “I’ll be back later to discuss this with you at greater length.”

“I’ll be speakin’ to Jason soon.” Jonathan opened the tent flaps for his guest. He made sure he was in Hamilton’s face when he continued. “Oh, but Mr. Hamilton...don’t be too sure Jason took something that wasn’t offered.” He slammed the tent flaps closed, as best he could, leaving Philip sputtering to no one in particular.

Thoroughly distracted, Jonathan returned to his bookkeeping. However, there was not going to be any more figuring today. At least figuring that had to do with numbers. He could see right through Philip Hamilton, he knew what than man was after.

No less than his son.

It made perfect sense. Aaron would not have Charity now, if Jason had indeed been with her, and Hamilton’s way out of his financial predicament was all but gone. So, what better than to trap the other favorite son of Seattle, Jason Bolt, heir to Bridal Veil Mountain. That would certainly set him up for life.

Oh Jason. Jonathan rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to stem the pounding. Many were the times Jonathan thought he should take his eldest to visit some ‘fancy ladies’ once he was of an age, but Julia would not hear of it. He could still hear her scolding him, her hair escaping from the haphazard bun and trailing down her face and neck like little cascading vines.

“Don’t ye be ridiculous, Jonathan.” she said in her lilting brogue. “It’s hard enough around here tryin’ to teach that boy to be respectful of women...ye can’t just be marchin’ him off to some house of sin. I’ll not have it.” She turned back to the dish washing and Jonathan came up behind her.

He put his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. “But darlin’, how do ye think I got so good at it?” He grinned as she turned around and splashed water in his face.

“Aye, and that was my teachin’, ye fiend!” Her sweet smile drew him in and he kissed her tenderly.

He could still remember the feel of her soft lips on his, even after so much time had passed. She certainly would not be pleased with her son or her husband today, that was for sure. Dammit! He had warned Jason about his wild behavior, hadn’t he?

Well, this had gone far enough. He would have to confront Jason, and then decide what to do.

Storming out of the tent, Jonathan spied an ax laying there. He grabbed it and began chopping firewood to expend some of his anger. Anger was not the way to deal with Jason, at this point their tempers could go toe to toe. They would have to find a rational solution...if there was one to be found.

Chapter 7

Charity awoke to an empty cabin. Odd that she hadn’t heard anyone leave. Even Willie. Oh well, the laudanum from Miss Lottie was helping her sleep, if nothing else. She hopped to the small sink, hoping that Will the logger would have her crutches by now. He promised when he set her leg that he would find some for her.

She remembered the crude ones that Jason crafted for her. They were so uncomfortable, not the right height or even very stable for that matter, but she was still surprised that he had taken the time to make them for her. Unfortunately, she had to leave one behind during their hike back down the mountain, and the other one was useless alone.

Useless alone. Well, didn’t she know what that felt like. She sat down to her cold porridge and sighed. With the laudanum

buzzing around in her head, it was hard to make any sense of anything.

She really hadn’t meant to hurt Aaron. He was a good person, but she realized she was trying to convince herself that she felt more for him than she did. The look on his face as she and Jason limped back to the porch after the fight was seared into her brain. She hadn’t known that she was capable of hurting another person so. It was a new experience for her as feelings were kept under wraps in her family. After all, didn’t her mother leave without a second thought? How much could her family have meant to her?

Charity wondered if she was toying with Aaron? She didn’t think that she was leading him on...not quite anyway. Of course, sleeping with his main rival was probably not such a good idea, but, she wasn’t thinking straight that night. Aaron never entered her mind...it was only she and Jason.

Jason. How in the world did she feel about him? Did she love him? Did she like

him? Would he ever speak to her again without injuring himself? Was it so wrong for them to have made love? It didn’t feel that way at the time. Of course, now everything was different. The memories of their night together were still vividly etched in her mind, although comfortably fuzzy around the edges. Why couldn’t everyone just mind their own business? None of this would be happening if people would just mind their own business.

She knew there was talk in town....hard to deny when the rumors were true. She was glad to be stuck up here, keeping her distance. Of course, it was the town talk that had upset Aaron so, wasn’t it? Or did he sense something between she and Jason? Up until just recently, she and Jason could barely speak to each other with a civil tongue. What could Aaron have seen? Or was he just jealous...

Philip slammed the front door interrupting her seemingly endless thought loop.

“Daddy? Where were you?” Philip sat down at the table. “Oh, just out for a walk.” “Pretty dressed up for a walk.” she took another bite of cold, hard,

oatmeal. She felt like this tasted.“Well, I went over to see Jonathan Bolt, as a matter of fact.” He was not

sure how he was going to tell her all of this.Her heart jumped into her throat. “Oh? Why?”Slowly, he drew the letter out of his pocket. “W...w...what are you doing with that?” she stammered, eyes widening to

the point that they felt like they were popping out of her head. He tapped it on the table. “Well, I happened upon it yesterday. Is it true?”

He looked into his daughter’s face. So like her mother’s. She stared at him in response. “Why are you reading my personal

letters?”“I told you, it was an accident. Now, is it true? About you and Jason

Bolt?” His breathing was shallow as he awaited her answer.“Believe what you like.” she shoveled in another spoon of food.“Are you in the habit of writing tall tales to your friends, Charity?” he was

going to have to get her to admit it, or this was never going to work.

“No, Daddy. I’m not.” She slapped the table with her open palm. “That is my personal mail. It’s against the law to read another person’s personal mail!” Her hand stung with pins and needles from the slap.

He continued to tap the letter on the table and watch her. She might break if he stared at her long enough.

She was immobile, trapped in front of him. “Daddy, what do you want from me?” she said in a small voice.

“Did Jason Bolt have his way with you??” he shouted, his face red and rubbery looking.

“It wasn’t like that! Not at all.” She exploded and stood up, overturning the table and the brick-like oatmeal. “This is disgusting, Daddy. Leave me alone.” She hobbled over to the door, almost losing her balance. She felt his arms on her shoulders.

“Now, Charity.” he said to the back of her head. “The boy took something from you. We’re going to have to get something in return, don’t you think?”

“He didn’t take anything from me.“ she hissed.“My dear, in the eyes of this town, he took something very precious - your

marriageability - and I aim to have him make it right.” He turned her around to face him. “I’m going to take care of you, Charity.”

She stared glumly at him. Why did she get the feeling that he was not at all interested in her well-being?

Jonathan Bolt took a deep breath before he turned the knob on the cabin door. He opened it and stepped in to find Jason sitting by the fire, reading.

“Good morning, son.” He poured himself and Jason a cup of coffee. “Have ye been to see Master Will yet?”

“Yes, Da. He said my nose would heal pretty well. He said I’ll just look like I have character.” He turned his bruised and swollen face toward his father.

“Ye took quite a beating, lad.” Jonathan tried to hide his horror when confronted by Jason’s injuries.

Jason shrugged. “I couldn’t really fight back....But next time...” He gave the air in front of him a quick one-two. Jonathan smiled weakly.

They sat for a moment in silence. Jonathan staring into the fire and Jason pretending to read his book.

“Son, Charity Hamilton’s father came to see me today.” Jonathan looked over to see Jason’s reaction.

He did not look up from his book. “Oh?”“Yes, he did. Apparently, he’s under the impression that ye bedded his

daughter the other night while in the woods. Did ye?” Jonathan asked bluntly, staring at his eldest.

Jason studied his book some more. How the hell did Mr. Hamilton find out? Couldn’t Charity keep her mouth shut for more than one day?? “Um...well Da...” he stammered.

“Jason. It’s fairly important that we have this conversation. Did ye bed the girl?”

Never looking up from his book, Jason nodded. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his father’s eyes.

“Can ye tell me what happened?” “Da??” Jason laughed up his sleeve, “I think you must know that...”“Jason. This really is no laughin’ matter. Did ye....did ye...force yerself

on her??”“No, of course not! I...I would never do that!” Jason slammed his book

shut.The fire flickered and popped, punctuating his sentence.“Look laddie. I’m not going to lecture ye about what ye’ve done. What’s

done is done. However, Mr. Hamilton may not feel so charitable toward ye, ye can be sure of that. I think he was hopin’ to marry Charity off to Aaron.” Jonathan put his hand on Jason’s knee. “And lookin’ at what he did to you yesterday, I’m thinkin’ Aaron will not take too kindly to that plan.”

“He was pretty angry. Da, but he doesn’t even know!” Jonathan smiled ruefully, “Jason, lad, a man always knows when another

man has been with his woman. Ye and the girl can’t hide what went on between ye. What were ye thinking, Jason? How could ye have done such a thing with Aaron Stempel’s girl!” Jonathan could taste the anger rising in the back of his throat.

“It just happened, Da. You must know how it is...I...I wasn’t thinking straight, I guess.” Jason shrugged.

Jonathan sighed and paused. “I know ye and I have spoken about what goes between men and women before, lad....however, perhaps I’ve been remiss in teachin’ ye the parts about respect and honor. When ye are with a woman, it’s more than just bodies, ye know. It can be so much more...”

“It was...it was just like you said.” Jason looked back down shyly. “I mean, the two souls part.”

Aaaahh, so he did remember some of their conversations. “I’m glad to hear that Jason, but ye can’t be bedding every girl ye’re alone with...”

“It wasn’t like that. Charity is...well...” Jason found himself unusually speechless.

“Do ye have feelings for the girl, son?” Taken aback, Jonathan put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. This was a much different conversation than the one he had been expecting.

Jason shrugged again. It wasn’t like him to stumble over words. Words had always been his way in and out of any situation, they were his gift. But now, they were failing him, and he found himself relating to little Jeremy, who struggled with every word.

How did he feel about Charity? Besides being angry at her telling her father about them, he had only fond memories of their night together. Not just the sex, but the conversation and company also. After their first meeting, he remembered telling Aaron she had spirit. He also remembered he had found that attractive.

Is that what was going on? Was he trying to steal Charity from Aaron because he cared for her? Maybe their night of passion didn’t ‘just happen.’ He turned to Jonathan,

“Da, women are a lot of trouble.” Jonathan squeezed his shoulder. “Look, son, what I’m really worrit about

is Mr. Hamilton demanding ye marry the girl. Ye know, he’d be within his rights to do so.”

“What?” Jason answered, moving to the edge of his seat. He had seen shotgun weddings in the past. Grim faced boys and girls, led by their equally grim-faced parents or siblings to the itinerant preacher, to legally bind them forever and ever. Sometimes a child was born a little early, but to legally wed parents. Sometimes the shotgun actually even made an appearance. This couldn’t be happening to him, could it?

“Jason?” Jonathan shook him gently. Obviously the boy had not considered this possibility.

“Oh, Da...do you think he would do that??” Jason’s eyes were wide with fear.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that...But Jason, ye did tarnish her reputation, and if she is no longer marriageable...ye’re responsible. I mean...what if...what if...ye got her with child?” Now it was Jonathan’s turn to have trouble with words. He could see the bright future he had planned for Jason arresting before it had begun. He paused again to compose himself. “...I think there might be more to it than her reputation, though. We own a mountain, and Mr. Hamilton is a bit strapped for cash at the moment. I think he might try to use your predicament to ease that situation a bit.”

“How...how could he do that?” Betrayed by one’s own parents? Jason could not even fathom such a thing.

“The man is desperate, I think. And unfortunately, with ye’re little indiscretion the other night, he might have us over a barrel.”

The moon shone through the canopy of trees, creating lacy light on the ground below. Aaron lay wrapped in a blanket, shotgun at his side, trying to relax and get some sleep. Two days in the woods, and no sign of the cat. What the hell was he doing out here, anyway. The ground was cold and hard, and there seemed to be constant pebbles where his soft flesh wanted to be. His father was right, he was not much of a hunter, but his determination overcame his sense.

Why the cat? As he stared up at the trees, Aaron wondered again why this was so important to him. He thought again of Charity and Jason and the things she must have done to him...things she had offered to do to Aaron. The images were loose and freely floating around his brain. He would give anything to banish them.

So what? So I kill the mountain lion. That probably won’t bring Charity back to me. I could’ve saved her...Bolt had a head start and he knows that mountain like the back of his hand. Maybe then it would have been me she

showered with her favors, and not him. He would show them, he would get this damn cat and bring her back for everyone to see

Aaron’s thoughts were racing. He hated to lose anything to Jason Bolt. But his girl? It was unthinkable. But of course it wasn’t, especially in Aaron’s mind. Jason had charm to spare and the gift of gab, he always knew the right thing to say. Aaron knew girls were putty in Jason’s hands. As they became clay in his.

But, why am I stalking this cat?? It seemed so important two days ago. Maybe it was just to get out of town. He could no longer stand the stares and whispers of the townspeople behind his back.

What am I trying to prove? That I’m more of a man than Jason? He gets the girl, but I’ll get the glory by bagging this cat?

Who the hell cares? It was great to have a girl finally pay attention to him, ignoring his awkwardness and shy manner, but if she wanted Bolt....well, maybe she could just have him. And maybe Bolt could just have the whole stinking town.

Aaron found himself thinking of Tucson. He remembered his conversation with Charity about why he came to Seattle. He was just a boy, then, he had no choice. If he had a choice, would he stay here, a millowner? Under his father’s thumb and constantly battling Jason Bolt?

Maybe he could go back to Tucson, get back into ranching. Leave all of this behind and start again, be his own man.

He mulled over that idea, thinking about the beautiful Catalina mountains with their statuesque cacti, and began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t hear the low moan of the cat.

Jason was angry. Steaming, ruddy-faced angry. Knows no bounds angry. Mr. Hamilton, Charity, Aaron, the Seattle townspeople, all fell under the blanket of anger that had clouded his mind. After their conversation that morning, Jonathan went back to work, leaving Jason on a mental rampage. Married? He was not about to get married just because he was told to. He would choose when and where he would tie that knot, if ever. That Charity needed to learn a lesson. How could she tell her father about them?

Storming out of the cabin, he marched upward towards Charity’s house. Well, he would just tell her a thing or two. No one was going to force him to get married. Why...why...maybe that was her plan all along. Snag one of the boys in town whose father could support her??

The more he stomped, the more he steamed. Why, that vixen! Of course that was her plan. Trap him into marriage by flaunting her feminine assets before him when he was vulnerable.

He arrived at the Hamilton cabin, snorting and stamping like a rampaging bull. He stood outside the door and called to Charity. His voice boomed through the forest, even surprising himself with its depth and resonance. He called to her again.

Slowly the door opened. Charity stood there in her flamingo stance, and looked at Jason. Red-rimmed and swollen, her brown eyes were sunken into her colorless face. She sniffled a few times, otherwise she was silent.

Until that moment, he was not familiar with the effects of women’s tears on a man’s heart. Until that moment.

“What are you doing here?” she said, propping herself up in the doorway. Jason’s steam left him so fast he was breathless. “Um...I..I..thought we

should have a talk.”She shrugged. “Come in.” Jason walked into the small cabin to find it in total disarray. No one had

paid any attention to the cleaning or the washing up in awhile. Charity awkwardly hopped to a chair and motioned for Jason to take the other one.

“I’d get you some tea, but I think we’re out of cups.” her voice was flat, emotionless.

“Um...” C’mon words, come back to me, “I guess you know your father and mine had a conversation today.”

“Um hum..” she nodded, mostly interested in twirling her spoon around in the remains of her breakfast bowl.

“Charity,” Jason leaned in closer to her. “Why did you tell your father?” her current emotional state caused him to be gentle in his accusation.

She raised her head quickly, “I didn’t tell him anything! Do you think I’m crazy?” she shot back

Jason backed up in his chair. “Well then? How did he find out?”“He read the letter I was writing to Crystal. I don’t know how he found it,

but he read it.” she slammed the spoon down on the table, sending oatmeal flying around the room. “My own personal letter.”

“Oh.” Jason, dodging the flying food, was totally unprepared for that answer. He had to regroup. “That would explain it.”

“You thought I told him?” she snarled. “How could you think that?”“Well,” Jason was working himself back up to boom level, “What was I

supposed to think? There I was, minding my own business, reading a book, and my father comes in and starts asking me a lot of questions, saying your father knew everything. And what’s more, there’s talk of us getting married!”

So, it had already come to that.

“Married??” she gasped.Jason’s emotions skidded to a halt. “Yes, married.”Charity scratched her head, then just as naturally patted her hair down.

“Because we...”“Yeah.” Two tears trailed down Charity’s cheeks. She had thought her tear ducts

were empty. Guess not. “Jason...I...”“I don’t want to get married either.” He responded a little too quickly. He

folded his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t know what to say, Jason. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I could just refuse.”

“Well, if word about us gets out, you won’t be...um....marriageable anymore.”

Except to you, she thought, but quickly dismissed it. “Well, that’s my problem, why is it yours?”

He rolled his eyes. “Cherry, I am involved here. Your father has the right to force me to marry you. Since I..you know.”

“Deflowered me?” she replied with a raised eyebrow.He rolled his eyes again. “Yes. Actually, my father has an idea that

maybe your father is so interested in me because of the mountain....and because Aaron wouldn’t ever marry you now...” Perhaps not the right thing to say. “I mean...”

“I know what you mean.” she said bitterly, her tears flowing down her cheeks, “You’re right. No one in this stink hole of a town would be interested in me now that I’m not the virtuous flower they expect me to be. Dammit Jason, who exactly are you men bedding, anyway? You told me I was your first, so why doesn’t that make you ‘not marriageable’?”

“I didn’t make the rules, Charity. You’ll notice I didn’t ask you any questions that night. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Then why should it matter to anyone else? Least of all the busybodies in this town??”

Jason hoped the question was rhetorical and continued quickly, “Look, my father thinks your father needs money. He thinks he’s anxious to marry you off to me to somehow get a piece of our mountain. Do you think that could be true?” Jason leaned back toward her.

Charity sat for a moment in agonized silence. “Well Jason...a week ago I would have probably slapped you for saying such a thing....but now?” she shook her head slowly. “I suppose it’s possible. You think my father is going to blackmail you with me, huh?” Her red eyes met Jason’s across the table.

Her pitiful look roused Jason’s sympathy and he put his hand over hers. It was cold. “Let me talk to my father again. I’m sure he’ll come up with a plan.” He squeezed her hand, trying to transfer some of his warmth into it.

“Jason, don’t hate me.” she said in a small voice. He shook his head. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. “I don’t hate you,

Cherry. This is not your fault. It’s mine, if anyone’s. I suppose I don’t have the common sense of a mule, taking you in the cabin like that.”

Charity felt the hairs on her neck stand up. “Jason, I’m not some...some...’thing’ that you can ‘take.’ I was there, and I...I wanted it too. So, that makes us equal.”

“Ok, ok. I have to go.” Their hands lingered together for a moment. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Charity sniffed. She watched him walk out the door dejectedly.

Chapter 8

Jonathan Bolt, a logger and a gentleman, stood at the bar in Lottie’s nursing a bottle of whiskey. He ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair and rubbed the muscles in his neck. Some days he wished he had stayed in Kilmarron, where as the younger of twins, he had little or no responsibilities. He could have remained there and been a wealthy playboy, with no business to run, no children to raise, just wine, women and song. After this past week, that lifestyle looked more and more enticing.

But, he was about 20 years too late to make that dream a reality. In fact, he had left Scotland specifically to avoid that fate. He hadn’t bargained on being the only parent to his three boys, and the owner of the largest business in town. His wife was dead, his youngest son could barely speak for stuttering, his middle son was a loner, and his oldest son was about to be shanghaied to a shotgun wedding.

“Aye Lottie, wontcha be joinin’ me in a drink?” He looked up at his longtime friend as she puttered around the bar.

Lottie looked around the room. Two drunk patrons were barely coherent at a table near the door, and everyone else was gone. She gave Jonathan a half-smile and ushered the unsteady men out the door, locking it behind them.

“Sure Jonathan, I’ll have a drink.” She produced a clean glass and put it in front of him. He filled it with the brown liquid that numbed so much. “Down the hatch.” she said by way of toasting and drained her glass. She looked at Jonathan’s red, tired eyes and put her arm around him. “What is it that’s got you so upset?” Where would he begin, she thought, as she massaged his tight neck muscles.

“It’s Jason, Lottie m’dear. He’s got himself in quite a fix.” He closed his eyes and relaxed under her touch. “Aye, ye’ve a gift, woman.”

Lottie worked his neck over, pressing and probing the knots with her thumbs. Jonathan was a wonderful, caring man, and it was only out of respect to his late wife, who was Lottie’s best friend, that she didn’t make her feelings known to him. The time would come for that later. “What’s going on?”

While her thumbs kept working on him, he confided the whole story to her. “... and Lottie, I don’t want to lose my son this way...”She sighed. “Do you have any idea of what you might do?”“Some, but it involves the bairns.” Between the whiskey and the massage,

Jonathan slipped comfortably into his old Scottish tongue.“Jonathan, if this is what they’ve been up to, they are hardly bairns.” she

stated with a chuckle. He chuckled in return. “Oh, I know. I just hate to involve them in a deceit,

it would be better if Hamilton and I could just bash it out ourselves.”“Have you tried that yet?”

He put his hand over hers. “No, m’dear, not yet.” He turned around to face her. “But, tomorrow’s another day. Thank ye for the neck work.” He swiveled his head around to test his range of motion, smiled, then kissed her gently on the forehead. “Good night.”

She watched him walk slowly out the door, the sound of his footsteps heavy on the floor. “Good night.” she echoed quietly as she locked the door behind him.

Aaron was hiking the length and breadth of Bridal Veil mountain, or so it felt to his aching feet and shoulders. The capricious Seattle weather had brought sunshine once again and he stripped down to his shirtsleeves. Happily, he had found some fresh cat tracks down by the creek, so at least this trip was not in vain. It was too late to turn back now, without the cat anyway.

A tree with low branches beckoned him and he climbed it easily. Pulling a piece of beef jerky out of his rucksack he gnawed on it and surveyed the scene. Green stretched out before him almost as far as he could see. Trees, trees and more trees. He could see Seattle in the distance, the smoke from their fires marking their location.

He closed his eyes and the landscape changed. Red rock mountains and blooming wildflowers stretched before him now, dotted by the majestic saguaro cacti. The frequently overcast skies of Washington gave way to the cloud studded blue skies of Arizona. He thought back to the pueblo home they lived in, the cool adobe decorated with colorful Mexican artifacts. He had been pretty happy the four years they had lived there. He was in school, enjoyed his studies, and even had some friends. Charity and her friend Crystal were so young then, but Crystal’s sister Ellen was in his class, they had sometimes studied together.

It could work, he thought as he munched. He knew a few people that were still ranching in Tucson; they might be able to help him get started. But could he be away from his father? They had been together all Aaron’s life. Having lost his mother so very young, it had always been just Aaron and George. They had started in Virginia and worked their way west. Just the short balding man and his dark, lanky son. They were a pair, a team.

Tucson was their last stop before Seattle. Tucson was an actual city, with actual female inhabitants. Aaron felt more and more certain that he was ready to strike out on his own. The more he thought about his future, the less anger and hate he felt toward Charity. It felt good to have a plan.

A noise startled him.A low moan, like that of a wild animal. A mountain lion perhaps. Slowly, he looked around the ground below him,

looking for any clue to her whereabouts. Cursing, he saw his shotgun, leaning up against the tree next to his, right out of reach. Will the indignity surrounding this animal never end? Now it had him treed???

Sure enough, the cat showed herself, growling and prowling around the tree. Aaron made some quick calculations on how high he was, and how far she could stretch out. Satisfied for the moment, he sighed inaudibly. How could he have left his gun on the ground? What the hell was he going to do now???

Jonathan strode through the forest, wind at his back, cursing again the time this business with Hamilton was taking away from his logging operation. They were two days behind and two men down, and soon George Stempel would be paying him a visit. He left Jason up at camp to oversee the loggers, but he half expected upon his return to find him embroiled in some mischief or another.

Walking toward his old home, he was struck at how little the landscape had changed. The path was rough, with old brush and ferns flourishing under the tall trees. This small cabin was he and Julia’s first home here in America, where they came to make their hopes and dreams into reality. Jason was a toddler, Josh and Jeremy not yet a gleam in his eye.

He wondered what dreams the Hamilton’s had brought to Seattle, to this small cabin. If it wasn’t for Jason’s part in this charade, Jonathan would feel sorry for Hamilton. He imagined that Hamilton did not bring his family all the way out here expecting to lose everything. He had to be a desperate man to be forcing his daughter into marriage. Jonathan would have to find his weakness, his price.

He walked up to the cabin to see Charity sitting in her usual perch on the front porch, darning supplies at her side.

“Good day, Miss Hamilton.” Jonathan said in a curt manner, and nodded his head toward her. “Is your father at home?”

Charity bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. “Good day, Mr. Bolt. He’s inside.”

Jonathan took a step toward the door. “Mr. Bolt?” She looked down at her now idle hands. “Yes?”“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen...” Tears began to fall

onto her sewing. Jonathan put his hand on her shoulder. “I know, lass. I know.” He nodded

as he turned his attention back to the front door. “Let me see what I can do about this.” He rapped firmly on the door. It was a strange sensation, knocking on his own door.

Philip opened the door and with red eyes stared at Jonathan. “Well, Mr. Bolt. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Hamilton, I think we should take a walk.” Jonathan nodded in Charity’s direction. “I’d like to talk to ye in private.”

Philip thought for a moment, visually checking Jonathan for weaponry, then stepped out on the porch. “All right, Bolt. We’ll walk.” He started down the porch step, ignoring his daughter. Following him, Jonathan winked at Charity. “Good day, Miss Hamilton.”

She tried to force a smile, to no avail. “Mr. Bolt.”

The two men walked in tense silence for some yards, until Jonathan knew they were out of Charity’s earshot.

“Now, Mr. Hamilton. I think ye and I both know what ye are tryin’ to do here.” Jonathan thought the direct approach would be best in this situation; perhaps he could confuse the enemy. “…Using the bairns to blackmail me. I know Stempel’s kicking ye out of the store…perhaps I could help ye out.”

“Mr. Bolt!” Hamilton sputtered, his face reddening from the neck up, “My daughter’s honor is at stake. I assure you, that is my main concern.” Was he that transparent?

“Well, now. I want ye to give this some thought. I’d be willin’ to help ye get a start on a new life…financially....in exchange for you dropping this whole issue.” Jonathan put his arm on Philip’s shoulder companionably.

Philip shook it off vigorously. “Mr. Bolt. I can’t believe you’d think I’d put money before my daughter’s future.”

Jonathan knew just the opposite to be true. He could feel it in the man’s bones. He was nervous and desperate. But Jonathan’s patience was not going to last much longer, he could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. “So what if I just refuse to go along with this…situation?”

“How old is Jason, Mr. Bolt?”“Seventeen…no eighteen. Much too young to…”“My Charity is only seventeen, a minor child. I expect you’ve heard of

statutory rape? There are laws in Washington Territory you know.” Hamilton played his trump card. Now it was Jonathan’s turn to sputter, “What? You...you wouldn’t.” “Mr. Bolt. Like I said. I’m trying to protect my daughter. Now, you can refuse all you want, but I think the consequences for Jason would be much worse if you did. Now, you think it over. I want those two married day after tomorrow. There’s no time to waste, Mr. Bolt.” Philip turned on his heel and began striding back to the cabin, but not before Jonathan clamped his hand down on his shoulder. “Mr. Hamilton.” Ferociously he spat the words out. “Ye know as well as I do there was no rape. Ye’r daughter was a willing participant in whatever went between she and my son.” “You could never prove that, Bolt. Look at the state of her, the bruises and scratches. And she is only seventeen. Tsk tsk. I’d just encourage Jason to get on with the wedding. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to start the arrangements.” He walked on without looking back. Jonathan stormed off in the opposite direction. Rape? Jason was no more capable of rape than he himself was. Jonathan had seen the way Charity looked at Jason in Lottie’s after their return, it was no rape. Hamilton was proving to be a much stronger foe than Jonathan imagined. What did he really want?

The mountain lion was quite relaxed, curled up like a house cat directly under the tree where Aaron was not at all relaxed and stretched out like a rubber band. He looked around for the fiftieth time, looking for a way out of the tree without being mauled; or at least a way to his shotgun. And for the fiftieth time,

he could not figure a way down. Humiliation was creeping up on him like a jewel thief on his prize. Soon, he heard some rustling down the path. The cat heard it too. She growled, stretching her long body awake. Straining to hear, Aaron could make out voices, loggers probably. Wait, only one voice...someone was talking to himself?

The cat turned her attention to the noise, momentarily turning her back on Aaron. He wiped beads of sweat out of his eyes as he trained them on his gun.

Aaron heard the voice again. It sounded familiar. Good God, it was Jason! Aaron could hear the ground crunching under his stomping feet, and he could hear the anger in his voice, although he could not make out the words.

The cat crept toward the sound, growling and moaning, ignoring her treed prey. Jason was walking into a trap.

Aaron waited until the very last second to take advantage of the cat’s distraction. When he could almost see Jason’s head poking through the brush, he jumped down and stumbled toward his shotgun.

“Jason, look out!” he shouted, his voice strong and loud through his terror. He trained the cat in his sight and pulled the trigger. The force of the gun knocked him down and for a split second he lost track of the prey.

“Aaron, Aaron!! You got her! You got her!” He heard Jason shouting as he ran towards him. He offered Aaron a hand up. “Great shot!!” he boomed gleefully.

“Oh… thanks. Thanks, Bolt.” Aaron brushed himself off and together they cautiously approached the cat.

The bullet had hit its mark. Aaron’s shot dropped the cat immediately. The two young men stared at each other over the cat’s still-warm body.

“Aaron?” “Yes, Bolt?” Aaron could not take his eyes off of the cat, her eyes and

mouth open, ready for the kill.Jason clamped his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, startling him. “You saved

my life, Aaron.”“Oh…a…yeah, I guess so.” Slowly, Aaron looked up at his adversary.

Suddenly feeling the constraints of emotion he was not ready to show, he continued, “Well, what was I going to let her do…finish the job?” he quipped, nodding at Jason’s bandaged body.

“I’m much obliged to you, Aaron.” Jason said solemnly, sticking out his clumsily wrapped right hand.

Aaron shook it gently. “oh…c’mon Jason, you’d’ve done the same for me. Now, do you think you can help me get her ready to take back to town?” Aaron’s sardonic tone returned. “I think I’d like to show her off.”

Jason nodded and together they began to truss the cat to a fallen tree branch so they could transport her back to Seattle. They worked in silence, an unusual occurrence for Jason, Aaron thought. He glanced over at Jason’s face, lips pinched into a tight line, brow furrowed, and remembered what he had heard before the cat strike.

“So..a…Jason…” he began nonchalantly, “I heard you talking to yourself out there…a…what’s going on?”

Jason pulled the ropes tightly around the cat’s large back haunches. “You don’t want to know.”

“Oh.” Aaron tried to close the dead cat’s eyes, they were making him uncomfortable. No matter how often he saw dead animals, it never failed to upset him.

“…besides,” Jason continued, “You already broke my nose once this week, I don’t think I’d like to go for two, if it’s all the same to you.”

Aaron looked at the havoc he had wreaked on his friend and stammered a reply. It seemed so long ago. “Oh... well, I am…sorry about that…your nose I mean….”

Jason interrupted, looking up, “I probably deserved it. Look Aaron, I’m really sorry for what happened with Charity …”

So it was true then, Aaron thought, his mouth twisting into a sour expression.

Jason just kept right on talking. “…really, Aaron. It wasn’t right,” He tried in vain to come up with an excuse for his behavior. Drunkenness, fatigue, pain, they all sounded hollow in his ears. He took a deep breath, “and…and well..I hope you can forgive me.”

Aaron looked up and met his gaze, he was still on a high from the kill, and was feeling magnanimous. He decided to put his new outlook on life into practice. He also took a deep breath. “What’s done is done, now, Bolt. Tell me what else is going on…”

Jason told him all that had passed in the couple of days since he’d been gone. About Hamilton and his plans to have he and Charity wed, or else…. Aaron listened dispassionately. On the one hand, he thought as Jason prattled on, they deserved each other. But, on the other hand…he wouldn’t want to be in Jason’s position, and with Charity’s sexual proclivities he very easily could have been.

“Whoa Jason, …you say that Hamilton wants you two to get married because he wants a piece of the mountain?”

Jason nodded, a look of pure disgust on his face. “He wants something, that’s for sure. Actually, I think he was hoping you’d marry her, so he could get a piece of your father’s mill…”

Aaron chafed at those words. The past couple of days had cemented his desire to get out from under his father’s shadow, and this just added fuel to the fire.

They threaded the long pole between the cat’s front and back legs. She was a heavy burden Aaron thought as he hoisted one end of the pole on his shoulder, and Jason took the other. As they carted their catch, Aaron was having the most unusual thoughts. Thoughts about ways he could help Jason. Help Jason? How could he even be thinking about helping Jason, after what he did?

But, deep down, Aaron knew Jason would do the same for him. They had spent the last four years working and playing and fighting together. They may

not always like each other, but they had forged a bond in this wilderness. The bond was one of survival. How did the saying go? ‘All for one…one for all?” That was the name of the game in Seattle, and Aaron was well aware of that.

He formulated his plan as they trudged down the mountain.

Charity’s wedding day was overcast and gloomy, matching her mood to a T. She could barely open her eyes even with the noise of Willie and her father in the cabin. Thank God for the laudanum.

She glanced over at her father, bending over the small stove, burning breakfast. Even in her morning stupor, she wished she could push him right into the fire. He was intractable in his position on this wedding and no amount of pleading from her would change his mind.

“Charity, I’m doing this for your own good, now stop bellyaching.” Philip had shouted at her the night before.

“How could this be for my own good when everyone is so miserable, Daddy?” she shouted back.

“It’s like medicine. It doesn’t have to taste good to be good for you. You’re just too young to see….I have a vision of our...I mean your future, dear. By the way, Miss Lottie says she might have a new dress for you to wear,” he said, changing the subject quickly. “I’ll walk you down there tomorrow morning and she’ll help you get ready.”

Charity rolled her eyes. She knew the discussion was over, once again. Tired of fighting, she climbed into her bed and pulled the blanket up around her ears. She knew fully well Jason didn’t want to get married, and she certainly didn’t want him this way. To commit to spending the next 30 or 40 years with Jason Bolt, as cute as he was, in this backwater town was impossible for her to conceive. If she could run, even walk, she would. Her tears were hot on her face as she lay there, soundlessly sobbing. She wouldn’t give her father the satisfaction of seeing her cry any more.

So, now it was time. Time to get up and go through the motions for this ridiculous ceremony. She hoped Aaron’s and Jason’s plan would work, or she would soon be Mrs. Jason Bolt. The thought of becoming someone’s wife used to thrill her, but right now she could think of nothing worse than to be attached for life to a man that didn’t want her.

Through her fog, she heard her father calling her to breakfast. She swallowed hard and climbed out of her bunk, her new crutches at her side.

Jason struggled with his tie, a far cry from the last time he put it on, tying it without even looking, his bravado doing the job for him. Jonathan stood behind him, frowning in the mirror.

“Son, are ye sure this is worth it?” Jonathan asked, his heart in his throat.

“Da, I’ve got to have faith in Aaron. You just do your part.” Jason’s adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily as he struggled.

“But lad, if it doesn’t work, ye and the lass will be married. Legally.”“Well, I don’t have much choice then. If this doesn’t work, its marry Charity

or go to jail. I’ll take the former, much obliged.”Jonathan put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed it tightly. “Son,

I want ye to know I’ll always be there for ye. No matter what.” “I know, Da. I know.” Finally satisfied, he turned to face his father. “Is it

time to go yet?” Jonathan checked his pocket watch. “No, not yet. Let’s go outside and get

some air. C’mon boys, ye are mussing ye’r good clothes…” Jonathan directed his attention to Josh and Jeremy, roughhousing on their beds.

Jonathan hated himself for allowing this situation to go as far as it had. He always had the power to control any situation. Now he felt everything draining out of him, as it did when Julia died. He couldn’t help her either. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could still see her on the floor, in a pool of blood, with Jeremy sobbing at her side. He had been powerless then also.

Now they were relying on Aaron Stempel to get them out of this. Jonathan was not sure Aaron was even reliable. What if he was enacting a grand plan to get back at Jason for stealing Charity?? He sighed as he followed the boys outside and joined Jason on the porch. Jason was right, of course, they had to trust him, they had no other choice…

He looked over his eldest son and noted his somber expression. Gone was the coltish exuberance that had up until then infused Jason’s entire being. In its place was a gravity of bearing Jonathan had not seen before. His son looked every inch the man in his dark suit and tie, his boots shiny from a fresh coat of polish. As much as Jonathan had wished for Jason to grow up and accept responsibility, this was not at all what he had in mind.

Jason was betting everything on Aaron and his plan. He listened with disbelieving ears when Aaron came to him saying he had an idea for getting Hamilton off his back. He searched Aaron’s eyes for signs of a double cross, but could not find any. The plan was nowhere near a sure-fire success, but it was all he had. He looked out at his little brothers yelling and laughing and wished he was their age again, with both of his parents with him, and not a care in the world.

“It’s gonna be alright, lad.” Jonathan murmured as he stood next to his son. Today, he felt every one of his thirty-nine years, times two.

“Son, I can not believe you are thinking of attending this sham of a wedding!!!” George Stempel chomped down on his cigar as he watched his son preen in the mirror.

“Father, I’ve known Jason for many years, don’t you think I should go and offer my support?” Aaron looked at his father’s reflection in the mirror, while combing his hair into place.

“Aaron, he’s marrying someone who up until last week was your girl! Isn’t it a little…well….humiliating?” George’s son had been acting strangely since he and Jason had brought that cat home to much fanfare and brouhaha. “And besides, this is a shotgun wedding. I can’t believe you’d be in support of that kind of thing!” He absently blew smoke rings as he talked.

“I’m over it, Father. I still think I should lend them my support… Believe it or not, I wish them well.” Aaron, done with his dressing, turned to look at his father.

George shook his head slowly. “Well son, I suppose you know your own mind. But I’m not going anywhere near that place today.” The wedding was to take place at Lottie’s, owing to the absence of a church in town.

“Alright, then. Maybe later I’ll see you later for a drink?” I’ll need it, Aaron thought, especially if this doesn’t work.

“Yes, later.” George put his feet up on the footstool, took out a magazine and continued to blow smoke rings. He nodded to Aaron as he left. Why didn’t that boy fight for his girl? Where did he go wrong? George shook his head and tried to concentrate on his reading.

Chapter 9

Philip Hamilton walked alongside his daughter in silence as she tried to navigate her new crutches. The rhythm she needed to walk was constantly thrown off by the ruts and uneven terrain of the mountain path. Charity huffed and puffed along but said not a word the entire morning. Hamilton knew she was hurt and angry but could not find any words to comfort her. He looked up into the endless grey sky, heavy with rain, and started to whistle to block the thoughts that were echoing loudly in his brain.

You are selling your daughter……No, I’m trying to provide for her futureWell, Lord knows you can’t do it You need money and security and the

Bolts are going to provide it for you……No, I’m worried about Charity’s marriageablility..Sure you are….if you hadn’t told everyone, it would have continued to be

a secret...…No, this is what’s best for her. Jason Bolt took her virginity and he will

pay...Pay? His father offered you money, you didn’t take it. Besides, I seem to

remember a certain situation with a certain young lady in your youth….…Yes, and look how that turned out… This is a good match for Charity.If you say so, but you are selling your daughter….

On and on it went as he and Charity hobbled down the mountain. His brow was sweaty and his hand cold and clammy when he opened the door to Lottie’s and ushered Charity inside.

Lottie’s eyes were like daggers as she met them at the door. “Good day, Mr. Hamilton.” she said brusquely, putting her arm around Charity and turning away from him.

“I’ll be back later.” he said cheerfully to their backs. When they did not respond, he turned on his heel and slunk out the door, his breath coming hard and fast.

“Well, hon, I found a very nice dress for you.” Lottie tried to be cheerful.Charity nodded and watched the elegant blond woman disappear into the

back room, returning with a pink confection of satin and lace. Lottie smiled expectantly. “Well? What do you think?”Charity managed a weak smile. “It’s pretty, Miss Lottie.” She was going

to be married in a pink saloon girl’s dress. Lottie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. If she lived to be 100, she

would never understand why men and their prideful natures always caused so much pain for innocents. “Well then. Let’s get you ready, shall we?”

Unsteadily, Charity stood up. Lottie came to her side. “You know Lottie, I’m not with child.” Charity stated matter-of-factly.

“That’s good news, honey.” Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief.“So, why are we still being punished? Was it so wrong Lottie?? What we

did?” Charity’s brown eyes pierced Lottie’s soul, looking for an answer, something to explain the nightmare her life had become.

Lottie wondered how she could answer this one? Should she just tell Charity what she believed, or what she was expected to say? She paused for a moment then spoke. “Well Charity, I think that physical love between men and women is beautiful, after all, it was given to us by God himself. But, sometimes in real life it gets all confused, especially when you are young.” she tapped the end of Charity’s upturned nose. “But to tell you the truth, its people who do the punishing here on earth, and I don’t know why. But, this life is what we’re given, so we try to make the best of it.”

The young girl’s face hardly changed expression. “So then, let’s make you the most beautiful bride Seattle’s ever seen.”

Lottie put on a happy face and led her charge into the back room where the bubble bath stood waiting.

Oh, that bath again. Charity had to smile in spite of herself. Isn’t this where it all started? Lottie bore her weight as she stripped off her clothes and her splint and climbed into the bath. As before, the hot water seared her tight aching muscles.

“I’ll be back in a moment to help you out, dearie.” Lottie watched as Charity leaned her head on the tub back and closed her eyes.

Soon, the back room was a flurry with hot hair irons and ribbons, and of course, the pink satin dress. When she was satisfied with her creation, Lottie stood back with her hands on her hips.

“You look beautiful, Charity! Why, any man would be proud to have you on his arm, I’d say.”

Charity caressed the dress, enjoying the feel of the smooth, cool satin on her hands. “Thank you Miss Lottie.” She felt like a peacock looking for its mate. Her voluminous chestnut hair was piled on top of her head in ringlet after ringlet. She held her head stiffly, worried that if she moved, the whole thing would come tumbling down. Lottie had woven pink ribbons and small wildflowers into the curls, securing the whole thing with more hairpins than Charity had ever seen in her life. A touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips, and some gloss for her dark lashes pumped some life into her pale countenance.

She looked at herself in the small mirror above the fireplace. She tried to force a smile, to pretend that this was a happy occasion, as she had dreamed it her whole life. However, even with Lottie’s decorating expertise, her sadness shone through. Even if Aaron’s idea did work, she was out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She and Lottie’s heads whipped around as they heard people coming into the saloon.

Jason, Jonathan and the boys were the first to arrive. A more somber bunch Lottie had never seen. She met them as the door closed behind them.

“Hello boys!” Again, she feigned cheerfulness. Josh and Jeremy enveloped her in a bear hug and giggled as she tickled their sides.

“Lottie! Jason’s gettin’ married!” Josh exclaimed, his usually tousled blond hair flattened and combed into submission. Jeremy, his brown bangs trimmed unevenly out of his eyes, nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Well, that’s what I hear.” She stood up to acknowledge the two tall men standing there, immobile. “Jason, Jonathan.” They were nearly mirror images of each other, each tall and slender, with matching wavy brown hair and ice blue eyes. Jason’s features were sharper, Julia’s contribution, but otherwise, there was no mistaking the family resemblance.

“Is the lass here, Lottie?” Jonathan asked, while Jason rocked back on his heels.

Lottie nodded.“Is her father here?”She shook her head. “Ok then. Jason, go talk to her.” Jonathan nodded in the direction of the

back room.He started back, but Lottie grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. The groom

shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck.” “Lottie m’dear, “ Jonathan gently removed her hand from Jason’s arm.

“Nothing about this has been anything but bad luck. Jason needs to talk to the girl before her father gets here. Now, let him go.”

Lottie watched as Jason strode to the door and after a light knock, was let in. She turned to meet Jonathan’s eyes and he winked in response.

“Charity, it’s me, I need to talk to you.” Jason whispered to the door frame. She opened the door, standing behind it as she let him in. “Charity, I…” Jason began before he even could see her. He stopped when he actually did.She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. The pink dress was

nipped and tucked in all the right places, and as usual, her assets were nicely on display. The tendrils of ringlets packed atop her head bounced as she moved. One or two had escaped, draped over her shoulder, small effluences against her creamy skin. He resisted the urge to touch one.

“Hello Charity.” he gulped, “You look…very pretty.” “Thank you Jason. So do you.” At the same time Jason was checking her

out, she was doing the same. She thought she’d swoon at the sight of him, all decked out in his finest suit, his broad shoulders atop his slender torso. Unfortunately, the black and blue nose and eyes took away from the whole effect, but then, so did her crutches.

“Well, we’re a fine looking couple, wouldn’t you say??” Charity gestured with her crutches. “I think every bride wants to be married with a broken foot, to a groom with a broken nose, don’t you?”

Jason reached up and touched the side of his nose. It was still tender and swollen. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t have much time. Are you ready?”

She looked up into his eyes. “Yes, I think so. Have you spoken to Aaron today?”

He shook his head. “No, haven’t seen him. He’ll do his part. Don’t worry.”He bent and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon. You do look…beautiful, Charity.”

Her response came with a blush. “I’ll just wait for someone to come and get me.”

Jason slipped out the door as quietly as he had come in. She could hear more people filing into Lottie’s. Flopping down into a chair, she folded her gloved hands and waited for her father to come get her.

“Everyone, please take your seats.” the elderly preacher motioned to the five people in Lottie’s saloon. “I’m sure these young people would like to get on with the ceremony.” He smiled, showing off his gold front tooth. Jason gritted his teeth in reply, still rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Actually, reverend, we’re waitin’ on the bride’s father.” Jonathan volunteered, as he settled Josh and Jeremy in the first few seats.

“Oh. Well, we can’t have a weddin’ without him, now can we?” The reverend had traveled from Tacoma, his services having been requested sight unseen via telegraph by Philip Hamilton a few days before. He was balding, his clothes scruffy, and the aforementioned gold tooth was a bit off-putting to the gentlemen Bolt.

Not exactly how Jonathan had envisioned his son’s wedding day. He patted his coat pocket again and they all sat in silence.

“Play something Mac, will you?” Lottie hissed into the piano player’s ear. She resisted the urge to check on Charity, whom she could imagine trying to escape out the back door.

Finally, Philip and Willie arrived. Scowling at the Bolt men, Philip sat Willie down two seats away from Josh and Jeremy, then walked toward the back room. Willie grinned at his friends and immediately moved over to sit next to them. They started chattering quietly, mindful of Jonathan’s stern expression.

“Charity, it’s time.” Philip looked at his daughter in her candy-pink ruffled dress. She was a handsome girl; she looked a lot like her mother at this age.

Still she said nothing to him. “You look pretty, daughter.” he attempted yet again to engage her in some

conversation. Her only response was a stare. Finally, he lost his temper. “Well, you spoiled thing, you better plaster a

smile on that face of yours and look nice for your husband-to-be.” Didn’t she understand that he was trying to assure her a good future? Damn, the boy will inherit a mountain and a going business; she couldn’t do any better than that, especially with that attitude of hers.

Charity plastered her best shit-eatin’ grin on her face as Philip draped a handkerchief over her head.

“What’s that for?” she reached for the cloth, afraid of him messing up her hair.

“You don’t have a veil, girl. Don’t you have any modesty at all?” he exclaimed.

Charity rolled her eyes, but left the wisp of fabric where it was. “Let’s just go.” she said sharply. What could be going through his mind? Why was he putting her through this? The unanswerable questions ran around and around in her mind.

He took her arm and stuck his head out of the door to signal the piano player to start the bridal march. Lottie’s piano was old and out of tune, and the lack of talent in the player reduced Wagner’s beautiful processional to a off-key dirge. Charity and Philip emerged from the back room and the crowd, grown now to 10, stood. Philip slowly led her and her crutches around the seats to the front door of Lottie’s, and then up the center aisle to Jason, who was standing with the reverend at the bar.

Charity lowered her eyes when she met Jason and stood at his side. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” the reverend intoned.“I do.” Philip said, his smile evolving into a grin. Chest puffed, he took his

seat, next to where he had put Willie. Seeing that he sat alone, he glared at his son, who was sitting quietly next to his friends.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to join this man…” he nodded and stared at Jason, waiting for him to give him his name.

“Jason Bolt.” he said in a strong voice.

He turned his attention to Charity, “…and this woman…” “Charity Hamilton.” her voice was still flat and emotionless.“Yes….Jason and Charlotte…”“Charity.” she repeated. The reverend cleared his throat. “…this man and woman in Holy

Matrimony...” He continued reciting the traditional wedding service, his voice soon

nothing but a drone to Charity. Some stuff about God and the holy state of marriage. She wished he’d just hurry up.

The words from the reverend’s mouth stung Jason’s soul. He had never given marriage much thought, the world was so big, and there was so much to do. All he knew of marriage came from his parents. He could only begin to understand the love they had for each other; a love strong enough to carry them from a castle in Scotland to the wilds of Seattle, 5000 miles and a world away. A love strong enough to end arguments with a giggle and a kiss. A love strong enough to build a life on their own, with little or no help from anyone else.

He always imagined he’d have the same thing. Someday, anyway. His mother told him never to settle for less. The pain from her death washed over him anew; usually he was very good at hiding it, but in truth he missed her every day.

He looked out of the corner of his eye at Charity, her back ramrod-straight beside him. Her face betrayed no emotion. He looked at her in profile, beginning with her strong forehead, down the bridge of her upturned nose that in turn led to her full lips, outlined with Lottie’s lip rouge. She might be a good wife. Maybe someday he could love her like his father loved his mother. Maybe they should just go through with…..

“…is there anyone here who has any reason for this couple not to be joined in Holy Mat…” the reverend interrupted Jason’s thoughts and then was interrupted himself.

“Yes. “

Twelve heads whipped around to gape at Aaron Stempel standing in Lottie’s doorway. .

“..um…um…yes, young man?...And what is your objection?” the reverend stumbled, his rehearsed service coming to a halt.

Philip Hamilton’s mouth hung open. Charity crossed her fingers. So it begins. “Aaron!” she shouted. “What are

you doing here??”Aaron tramped up the aisle to the bridal couple. “Charity! What’s going

on?” “Stempel, get out of here. I’m warning you….” Jason turned and scowled

at him menacingly.Aaron burst by him and put his hands on Charity’s shoulders looking

deeply into her brown eyes. “Darling, what is going on?? I leave town for a couple of days and you run off??”

Charity began to sob, giant crocodile tears. “Oh Aaron, my father is making me marry Jason!”

Finally, Philip came to his senses and stood. “Stempel, what are you doing?”

Aaron sneered at Philip. “I’m putting a stop to this sham. Charity is my girl, and I mean to keep her.”

“How dare you interrupt our wedding!!” Jason blustered as he would a thousand times more in his life.

“How dare you try to marry my girl!” Aaron shouted back. He turned to Philip, “What is the meaning of this?” he gave him his most sinister stare. Also something he would perfect in time.

“I…a…thought….you weren’t…um...interested.” Hamilton stammered at this bizarre turn of events.

Aaron turned back to Charity, who gazed into his dark eyes. “Not interested? How could you think that? A man would be a fool to let her go…” Aaron’s words were spilling out. Putting his arm around Charity’s waist he turned them toward the rest of the stunned spectators. “Mr. Hamilton, I love Charity and I will marry her. Just as soon as we get to Tucson.”

“Tucson? Boy, what are you talking about?” Philip squinted at Aaron in disbelief.

“I intend to move back to Tucson and establish myself as a rancher. I know some people who could help us get a little homestead…” he gave Charity’s waist a little squeeze, “..of course we would be poor in the beginning, but I’m sure it would only be about five years until we would be able to get our own land and our own home. How does that sound, darling?” He looked at Charity longingly.

She pinched his side, hard. “Wonderful, my sweet.” Oh, let’s hurry and get this over with…

Five years?Poor?This was not at all what Hamilton had in mind. He would be destitute in

five days let alone five years. This could not happen. He turned to Jason.“Damn it Bolt! You have to marry her! We had a deal.”“But Mr. Hamilton, I wouldn’t feel right standing in the way of true love.”

Jason gestured magnanimously toward the couple. Hamilton’s eyes widened as he looked back toward Aaron, “but…what

about…that night...that night in the woods???”Aaron stood tall. “It doesn’t matter to me, Mr. Hamilton. Everyone makes

mistakes.” he looked over at Jason, “You can’t hold it against a person forever.”Philip looked from Jason to Aaron and Charity. He mopped his shiny brow

with his handkerchief. This was not at all what he had in mind. He called to Jonathan.

“Bolt. I’d like to talk to you...” he motioned to Jonathan and the two men entered Lottie’s back room.

Aaron, Charity and Jason stood stock still, each afraid to speak to the other. The reverend stood behind them, bible still open, waiting for his cue to continue.

Philip had a lot on his mind. His daughter was being claimed by a boy who was wealthy, but happily tossing it away for a new life. A new life as a poor man. The boy that was supposed to marry her was also rich, but her marriageablility having been proven, was now refusing to wed. Thus leaving him with nothing. He had to try to salvage this somehow.

“What do ye want, Hamilton?” Jonathan asked, closing the door behind him.

“Well, obviously….some things have changed.” Hamilton continued to mop his brow.

“Yes.” Jonathan refused to elaborate. “Well….It seems that Aaron wants to marry Charity.”“Yes”“It’s your son who invaded her, and it’s your son she should marry.” He

stated angrily. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his wildly beating heart. “However, I’m not an unreasonable man. Perhaps we could come upon a solution that would appease all parties.”

“What did ye have in mind, Mr. Hamilton?” Jonathan could feel the envelope in his pocket pressing against his heart.

Minutes later, the two men emerged from the room. The three young adults at the bar had not moved. They exchanged nervous glances as Mr. Hamilton approached them.

“I wish you all the happiness, my dear.” He kissed his daughter perfunctorily on the cheek, then looked at Aaron and Jason. “Wherever you end up.” he called to his son. “Willie, come on.” Willie clambered out of his seat and waved at Charity as he and his father left the saloon, neither of them looking back.

Charity, stunned, stared at the saloon door. She touched her cheek where her father had kissed it. That was goodbye, she could tell. He kissed her off. Left her here with whoever might claim her. She was alone.

Behind her, the Bolt men cheered and clapped Aaron on the back. Lottie, quickly figuring out what had happened, kissed Aaron on the cheek. “Aaron, Aaron, Aaron…who would’ve thought you’d be such a good actor. Let’s celebrate! I’m buying drinks all around.” She joined her men at the bar for a glass of her best whiskey. After she set them up, she noticed Charity still standing and staring at the door, and tilted her head in that direction. Aaron and Jason both turned to look, but Jason was the first to move.

“Charity, my almost-wife. You are looking most lovely!” He strode over to her, picked her up and began to dance her around the room. “We did it! We did

it,” he sang. Only then did he notice her expression was one of sadness rather than glee. He sat her on the bar, on display. “Lottie, pour my almost-wife a drink!”

“Just some water, please, Lottie.” she whispered. “Jason, please get me down from here.”

Seeing the pain in her eyes, he did as he was asked, placing her in a chair. “What is it? I thought you’d be happy that we were out of that bind.” He searched her face for a clue.

“Jason,“ she croaked. “Is my father leaving town….without me??” She looked toward Jonathan. That was not part of the plan.

Jonathan took a seat next to her. “Darlin’,” he said gently, “I gave him the money like we talked about, and he said he’d leave immediately. I thought under the circumstances, it was a good idea, or else ye’d be havin’ to marry Aaron in short order.”

Lottie put the water glass in front of her and she drained it, hands shaking. “But, Mr. Bolt, what am I supposed to do now?”

“Don’t ye be worrin’ about that this minute, darlin’” He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “Right now, let’s celebrate!”

Grinning, he turned to his son and his friend. “Aaron, I don’t think there is a way I can thank ye appropriately for ye’r help in this matter. Considering the circumstances, we didn’t expect it, nor did ye have t’offer it.” Jonathan held out his hand to Aaron, who tentatively shook it. Jonathan smiled warmly. “Let’s just say the Bolt men owe ye one.” He drained another whiskey, letting the warmth relax him.

“And Aaron,” Jason continued, “That story about Tucson…that was a nice touch..” he too drained his glass.

“Actually, it’s not a story, Bolt. I’m going to go back to Tucson.” Aaron stated plainly.

Three sets of wide eyes stared back at him.“But Aaron, lad, what about the mill?” Jonathan asked, leaning forward.Aaron shrugged, “My father can handle the mill just fine. What I said was

true. I want to go try my hand at ranching for awhile. I need to get out on my own.” He stood and pushed his chair back under the table, the scraping legs marring the floor and the silence. “I…I’m glad I could help.” He looked at Charity and Jason, sighing. “Good day.”

He walked out the saloon door not looking back, the three sets of eyes at the table following him in stunned silence.

Chapter 10

Jason and Jonathan exchanged glances and quickly chased down Aaron in the square. “Aaron!” Jonathan called to his back. He stopped walking, but did not turn around, allowing the Bolts to catch up with him.

Jonathan put a fatherly arm on Aaron’s shoulder. “What’s all this about ye leaving Seattle??”

Aaron turned to him, sadness marking his face. “Exactly as I said, Mr. Bolt. I need to get out on my own, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about Tucson.”

“But, this is ye’r home, lad. Ye’r father’s here, the family business is here. What are ye thinking, leavin’ all that?”

Aaron stood away from them. “My father doesn’t need me, and,” he glanced back at Lottie’s, “there’s nothing really keeping me here.”

Jonathan studied the young man’s dark features. His jaw was set, his eyes calm. It appeared he had given this decision quite a bit of thought. “Does ye’r father know of ye’r plans?”

Aaron looked off into the distance. “He will soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bolt, Jason.” He turned and walked toward his home.

Jason looked at his father, “I can’t believe he’d leave here!” He looked again at Aaron’s disappearing figure. “Da, I feel…responsible.”

Jonathan also watched Aaron recede into the distance. “Oh laddie. Everyone has to make their own decisions. Let’s go see to Charity now.”

Jonathan knew exactly how Jason felt. He knew the girl had nowhere to go, and in a way he was responsible for that. It was his own money that encouraged Hamilton to leave town. Yet, what was the alternative? A marriage between two children who hardly knew each other? Possible jail for Jason? Jonathan knew he had no choice, but still he felt guilty. He wondered yet again what would cause a family to split at the seams like the Hamilton’s had. They had everything, their health, each other…and still they managed to ruin it all. It all came down to greed. Jeannetta’s greed led her to run off with money stolen from the store, and Philip’s greed caused him to sell his daughter to the highest bidder. Jason and Jonathan draped their arms over each other’s shoulders and they walked slowly back to Lottie’s.

The saloon was empty, save for Lottie. “Where’s Charity?” Jason asked as they reconvened at the bar.“She’s changing her clothes.” Lottie said quietly, and put her hand on

Jonathan’s arm. “She’s afraid, Jonathan. She’s all alone, and frankly, I don’t think she knows what hit her.”

“I know m’dear. I’ll try to look after her, for awhile anyway. I mean, she can stay in the cabin..”

“Jonathan, you can’t leave a young girl to stay all alone in that cabin. It’s in the middle of the woods! For heaven’s sake, she can barely walk with those crutches here in town, let alone back and forth to that cabin.” As she spoke, Lottie was beginning to realize that none of the parties involved in this deception were prepared for the consequences. “She can stay here with me at least until the dust settles.”

“Oh, I thank ye Lottie. Ye are a true friend to us.” he cupped her face in his hands and bent to kiss her, stopping short of her lips, bussing her forehead instead.

Jason, meanwhile, had gone to the back door and rapped heartily. “Charity? Are you in there??”

“Jason, just go home, ok.” her voice did not return his enthusiasm.“But…but, are you alright??” “Yes…yes. Just go now.” He turned to his father and Lottie and mouthed the word ‘what.’, his face

puckered in confusion.Lottie led him away from the door. “Jason, I think we’ve all had a difficult

day. Why don’t you boys go home now, I’ll look after her for tonight.” “Are ye sure?” Jonathan’s overwhelming sense of responsibility for the

girl dictated that he saw her safe. Of course, this was the safest place he could think of for her, so finally he acquiesced.

Lottie ushered the two out the door, then began resetting the tables and chairs for her evening customers. She stopped suddenly upon hearing the soft sobs coming from the back room. Drawing a deep breath, she went in.

She saw the girl, head on her arms, her shoulders shaking gently. Wordlessly, Lottie sat beside her and drew her trembling body to her chest.

“…yes, you just cry it out, hon. It hasn’t been a good day at all, has it…” she murmured, as she began unpinning Charity’s hair and stroking it.

Charity cried until she thought her head would explode from the pressure. Lottie’s hands in her hair were soothing, and she could feel her curls fall around her shoulders, one by one.

“Lottie…” she looked at the woman next to her. “I don’t want to cry anymore…” Her head was throbbing and her eyes were dry and swollen.

“I know sweetie. I know.” Lottie tried to be upbeat. “At least now you can make a fresh start for yourself.” The girl was bright, she could probably do any number of things.

Still Charity looked into her eyes, searching for something, “What fresh start could I get here, Lottie? After all this. My father was right about one thing, no one will see me as marriageable now.”

“Charity, you’re young. This will blow over in time. There’s never a shortage of new men in Seattle, that’s for sure.” George and Jonathan were importing them in by the bucketful to work in their burgeoning industries.

“But Lottie, I have nothing. Not a dime to my name.” she looked down at the pink satin dress she was still wearing. “Not even the clothes on my back are mine. What am I going to do?”

Lottie sighed again. “Well Charity, I know Jonathan Bolt, and you’ll never starve.”

Charity shook her head, “Lottie, I’m so tired of accepting… accepting…charity from people...” She spat out the dreaded word. “George Stempel, Jonathan Bolt, what have their favors done for me and my family? Not much. Look at me, I have less now than I had when I left Tucson.” She shook her head. “I should have just married Aaron. I would have been a lady by now.”

“A lady of what, Charity dear? Aaron says he’s going back to Arizona territory.”

“Because of me, I’m sure. If this…this…hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t be leaving Seattle.”

“Well, you can’t know that for sure.” Lottie smiled at the thought of how young people never failed to think the world revolved around them. “Look, hon, why don’t you stay here with me for tonight. I’d really like you to.”

Charity nodded, eyes downcast. “More alms for the poor…”“Nonsense. I could use the company. C’mon, let’s go upstairs and get

you changed.” And as the late afternoon crowd began to file in, they saw the older

woman helping the young girl clad in the pink satin saloon girl dress up the steps, one by one.

Aaron Stempel slammed the door behind him, dreading the next encounter more than he had dreaded the last.

“Aaron, boy? Is that you?” George called from his bedroom.“Yes, it’s me.” He hung his jacket on the coat rack and sank into the wing

chair, loosening his tie and breathing deeply.George soon joined him, aflame in his red smoking jacket. “So, how was

the wedding? Did the girl’s father make an honest man of Jason Bolt?”“Nope.” “No?” George was incredulous. “Why, I thought it was a done deal.” He

perched himself on the couch, chomping on his ever-present cigar, waiting for the gory details.

“Well, it wasn’t. I sort of helped Jason out.” Aaron looked away from his father’s piercing eyes.

George took a drag on the cigar. “How and why did you do that, son?”Aaron was full of surprises. First he beats Jason Bolt to a pulp over the girl, and then he helps him out of this jam.

“I told Charity’s father I wanted to marry her and move back to Tucson, but that we would be poor until I got established as a rancher. Jonathan Bolt rightly figured Hamilton was out for cash from one or the other of us, so when Hamilton heard that I was going to marry his daughter and be poor, he took Jonathan’s money and left town.” Aaron’s words and thoughts tumbled out, one on top of the other.

George was taken aback. “Bolt paid him off??”Aaron sighed. “Yeah.” “But...But I thought Hamilton was having none of that!”“I guess once he heard that I was taking his daughter to Tucson to

become a pauper, he reconsidered.” Aaron pulled at his collar. “Father, how about that drink?”

George poured two glasses of scotch. A drink was a most unusual request from his son. He could barely take his eyes off of Aaron.

“Son, you’re not really going to marry the girl, are you?” At this point, George reasoned, anything was possible.

“No. She doesn’t want me.” He paused, bracing himself for the upcoming blow. “But I am moving back to Tucson.”

“What?” George choked on his scotch. “Be serious, talk sense, boy.”“I am serious, Father. I...I’m going back to Tucson. I want to try my hand

at ranching.” Aaron drained his glass.“That’s ridiculous, Aaron! Why would you do a thing like that??

You...you’ve got everything here. A home, a business to run. Why would you consider leaving?”

“Well....I hate the weather...” Aaron’s attempt at jocularity did not move his father, whose face did not change expression. When he could not stand the stare any longer, he looked down at his empty glass. “Father....I’ve been doing some thinking....I...I need to do something on my own.” Aaron spoke slowly, measuring each word. “All of my life I’ve been in your shadow. Just like a little puppy, ever since I can remember, I’ve followed you around. I...I don’t want to be ‘George Stempel’s son’, I want to make a name for myself. I think I have to leave here to do that. Let’s face it, Father, you cast a long shadow in this town.” Aaron cringed in expectation of the coming explosion. He was not disappointed.

“Damnit, Aaron! I can’t believe you! I give you everything I can your whole life, keep you close to me, try to teach you what I know. You have a comfortable life here, and a growing business that will be yours someday. And you want to leave it all behind? Just like that? You get thrown over by a girl and suddenly you need to remake your whole life??!! This won’t be the last time you’ll be dumped, Aaron, you can’t run away every time it happens!” George sputtered, his cheeks ruddy with anger. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter!” He violently stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray next to him.

Aaron stood up and crossed the room to the window. “I am not a quitter!” he answered sharply, “I only want to make it on my own, on my own merits. Yes, it’s too bad about Charity. But Father, it’s time for me to do something with my life other than follow in your footsteps! I’m not sure I even want to run a sawmill.”

“What do you care, as long as it provides you with the life to which you’ve been accustomed? Aaron, look around you. This house, your nice clothes, all paid for by that sawmill. And your life will only get better as time goes by and this town grows. Why would you want to leave that behind??” Leave me behind, he thought, to his surprise.

“Father, this is important to me! I appreciate all that you have done for me, all that you’ve given me, but I have to stand on my own two feet. Be a man.” he pounded his fist on the windowsill.

George took a moment to look at his son. His intelligent, sensitive son. “Aaron,” he began, more softly, “Don’t you see? You already are a man. A smart man with good sense and compassion. More than I’ll ever have. Look what you did today...for Jason Bolt, the sumbitch who stole your girl. He needed help and you helped him. Aaron, you don’t have to go a thousand miles away to prove your manhood. You already have.” He walked over to Aaron and put his hand on his shoulder. “Son, think about this. Ranching is a tough life, why do you think I’m here now? You are dependent on so many people to make it work.”

Aaron turned to him, “And you’re not? You depend on Bolt’s lumber, if not for that, you’d have no work.”

“And I have a good working relationship with Bolt, also. One I’d hoped you’d continue with Jason. With all his faults, I think he’s an intelligent boy, and will learn from his father, like you did from me.”

Now it was Aaron’s turn for reflection. Part of the reason he wanted to leave was his reluctance to compete with Jason Bolt. He owned a mountain, the Stempel’s only a sawmill. Jason had the silver tongue while Aaron was sure his was made of tin. He was tired of being unsure of himself around that glib bastard. He could never tell his father this, though. His father also possessed the gift of gab, Aaron wondered why he didn’t inherit it. But, George Stempel would never understand Aaron’s reluctance to go head to head with Jason Bolt in a charm contest, which is exactly how he saw his life in Seattle.

“Thanks for your support, Father, but I’ve already made my decision. I’m leaving on the next ship to San Francisco, in three days.” Aaron swallowed, a move made difficult by the lump in his throat.

George stepped away from his son. “So, I guess there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind?”

Aaron answered him with a shake of his head. “Well, then. Well, then.” George snatched the remains of his cigar out of

the ashtray, shoved it between his teeth and walked out the front door, not saying another word.

Aaron watched him recede through the window, his hand massaging his stiff neck.

The next days passed quietly for Charity, Jason and Aaron. Jason went back to camp where he was confronted by more bookwork. Charity sat around Lottie’s reading and Aaron began to pack his things for the move.

George Stempel, not having the stomach to watch the packing, spent long days at his mill, where presently he was visited by Jonathan Bolt.

“Bolt! I’m glad you came by. What the hell’s going on up on that mountain of yours? You are two days behind on the Sterner contract, not to mention the other three contracts we signed last month.” He squared a steely eye on Jonathan.

“Sorry, George. We are down a couple of men, Jason being one of them, and...well...with all that’s been going on the last week or so, I havena been keeping as close an eye on the business as I should’ve.” Jonathan pulled at his gloves as he spoke. “But, I’m here to tell ye that we should be back on schedule by tomorrow evenin’. I’ve got the men workin’ overtime to get the timber to ye. So, not t’worry.”

George harumphed in reply. It certainly was not like Bolt to get behind on contracts, he knew the man prided himself on keeping his word. Assuredly, this was only a momentary delay. Business was not uppermost in his mind anyway, with Aaron back at the cabin getting ready to leave.

“George...how’s Aaron?” Jonathan ventured. He could not imagine the pain Stempel must be feeling, to be losing his son. Well, maybe he could at that.

“Packing away. Damn fool kid. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, I swear I don’t.” But he did.

“Well, George, I’m sorry to see him go. He’s a fine young man, he is. He certainly helped us out, and that speaks to his character. Ye’ve done a fine job raisin’ him.”

“So fine that he can’t wait to leave me.” George turned away; as he wasn’t sure he could hide his emotions from his companion.

“It’s a stage, I think George. They have to grow up and test us. Jason’s up to it too, in his own way.” Jonathan could think of no other comforting words.

“But Jason’s still here isn’t he? Aaron’s going a thousand miles away, to do God knows what.” Partly because of you and your son, he thought.

“Aye. Physically he’s here, but I see him straining everyday against what I’ve been raising him to do. His mind is all over the place. Doncha remember being their age, George? We did the same as they’re doing.”

“I certainly didn’t have a successful business waiting to be handed to me on a silver platter, though. I worked my way up, to make it easier for my son, and now he insists on taking the hard way.”

“Well, George, I did have a successful business waiting for me in Scotland, but I chose to come here to make my own way.” Jonathan put his hand on George’s shoulder. “He’ll probably be back, George. Ye’ll see. Once he gets a taste of life without father lookin’ after him, he’ll be back.”

George shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know what he’s thinking anymore.”

Jonathan paused. “Well, I’d best be getting back to camp now. G’day George.” Jonathan gave him a sad smile and walked out of the mill, his footfalls quieted by the milling noise.

Charity looked up from her book to survey her surroundings. Lottie behind the bar, serving a couple of loggers on their lunch break. Mac, her sometimes assistant, running dishes around to various tables, full of mill workers and loggers. Faces ruddy from working outside, unkempt hair and beards, the loggers were a rough looking lot. Their arms tended toward tree trunk size, however, a not unattractive quality in a man, she thought. The mill workers did not look much different, although their look was less weathered.

Seattle was a rough place, totally lacking in a woman’s touch or even point of view. Lottie held up her end as best as she could, always dressed and coiffed elegantly, much too elegantly for this tiny town. The people were rough, the tables in the saloon were rough, the paths and walkways were rough, Charity could not think of a thing that was not rough.

Until Aaron walked in the door. Dressed in his traveling clothes, white shirt and leather vest over black wool pants, his grooming was always impeccable. She buried her nose back in her book, stealing a glance at him as he approached the bar. He got two cups of coffee and headed toward her.

“Hello.” he said, setting the cups down, “I thought I saw you sitting there.” He took the seat beside her.

“Hello Aaron. How are you today?” she said as she sipped the steaming liquid.

“Fine, fine. Just getting my things together before I leave tomorrow.” he also sipped his coffee, glad to have something to do with his hands.

“It’s all anyone can talk about around here. Your leaving, I mean.” She leaned in closer, “Aaron, are you sure this is what you want?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, Cherry, I’m sure. I need a new start, you know?”“Yeah, I know what you mean about that.” she looked around the room

again. “Aaron,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry about...about everything. I...I..just don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I hope somehow you can forgive me.” she looked down into her cup.

“I don’t want to hate you…or Jason.” Pausing for a moment, he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “Cherry...did you ever love me?”

She looked at his dark eyes, longing for something she could not give. “Aaron...I...I... You’re a wonderful person, and have been a good friend to me...but...no, I didn’t love you.” She thought she owed him the truth.

“Oh. Well, then.” he borrowed his father’s expression of dismay.She put her hand over his. “It wasn’t you, it was me. You are a kind and

gentle man. A gentleman. Please forgive me.”“Nothing to forgive, Cherry. You feel what you feel, I guess. I thank you for

being honest with me.” They sat for a moment in uncomfortable silence.“So, what will you do now?” he asked.“No idea, Mr. Stempel. Here I sit. I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. At

least you are getting on with your life.” “Oh, once you are back on your feet, you’ll be ok. I’m sure you can stay in

the cabin, Jonathan Bolt is certainly not going to kick you out....”“Aaron, I’m tired of taking everyone’s cast offs. What kind of future do I

have here anyway, especially after everything that’s happened.” She twirled her coffee around the petite china cup. And what was this beautiful cup doing here, in this place? The incongruity of it made her head swim.

“Come with me.” He stated simply.“What?”“Come with me. To Tucson.” He noticed her raised eyebrow. “Just to

keep each other company, nothing else... You always talk about how much you miss Tucson. Come back with me.”

“Aaron...I… don’t know what to say to that…” Say yes, you fool. She demurely put her hand on her chest only to try and keep her heart from pounding so hard.

“Well, think about it. I would be glad for your company. You said you had no future here.” He drained his cup. “Maybe there’s something back in Arizona for you.” he set it down gently and stood. “Think about it, Cherry. I’ll see you later.” He smiled and turned to walk away.

“Aaron?” She called softly, and he turned back to her. “Why are you so good to me?”

“I care about you, Cherry. I mean, I can’t just turn that off. “ Hurrying out the door, he left it swinging behind him.

Later that evening, the saloon was hopping. Lottie and Mac were slinging drinks around with both hands. It seemed that every man in Seattle had stopped by to socialize.

Jonathan and Jason Bolt were among them. Jonathan could not remember the last time he had been able to relax over a beer. He savored it, laughing and swapping jokes with his men.

Jason was holding court at the bar. He was retelling the story of his fisticuffs with the mountain lion when he noticed Aaron sidle up next to him.

“Lottie, bring Mr. Stempel a drink, on me!” he called to the harried bar mistress.

“Oh Jason! Get it yourself!” she snapped.Jason and Aaron exchanged grins as Jason headed behind the bar to

work the beer tap. “So, Mr. Stempel, when does your ship sail?”Aaron accepted the beer, complete with perfect head, with a nod.

“Tomorrow morning, high tide.”Jason raised his glass, “Good luck and God speed, Aaron. May the

cowboy life fit you like a good ten-gallon hat!” Completing his toast, he took a long swig of his drink.

Aaron followed suit. “And good luck to you too, Bolt. Now you’ll get to deal with not only your own father, but mine too.”

“A challenge I plan to rise to admirably.” Jason said, reseating himself next to Aaron.

“Oh, no doubt about that.” Aaron muttered. And that was how it was with Jason. One minute he could use that flapping tongue to cut you down, and the next, tell a raucous joke, slap you on the back and be your best friend. Aaron could never stay mad at him for long. Shaking his head, he grabbed some peanuts from the dish on the bar. He popped them into his mouth two at a time, almost choking when friends and well-wishers clapped him on the back in farewell.

“So, I wonder where Charity is tonight.” Jason craned his neck around the room.

“Bolt, Lottie’s on a night like this is no place for a lady.” Aaron said, shoving Jason playfully. Sometimes the man just had no class.

“And thank you for that sentiment, Aaron.” Lottie sniped as she floated past them.

“Oh, Lottie, you know what I mean…” Aaron took another gulp of beer. He popped a few more peanuts in his mouth and turned to Jason. “You know I asked Charity to go with me back to Tucson.”

Jason’s mouth dropped open. “You what??” “You heard me. I asked Charity to come back to Tucson with me.”“How…how could you??” Jason sputtered. “I…mean...why would you do

that?”“What do you have to offer her here, Jason? You’ve already ruined her,

and this is a small town. How do you expect her to recover from all this?” Aaron gave him a sideways glance, enjoying seeing him squirm.

“Well…well…what does she have waiting for her in Tucson? You?”

The implication was clear.“I think that issue has already been settled, Bolt. She has friends there,

and she always seems to miss it. I don’t know, I just thought I’d make the offer.”“So…so…what did she say?” Jason tried to sound casual while downing

his glass to wet his parched throat.“Oh…” Aaron couldn’t resist this last wind-up. “I think she’ll go…”Jason’s eyes brightened as his temper flared. “Oh, really…” Aaron stood up suddenly. “Well, I’d best be going. Big day tomorrow.

Good night, Jason.” He sucked the foam out of his mug and slapped Jason on the back.

“Yes…a…good night, Aaron.” Jason answered distractedly. He contemplated having another beer as he heard Aaron make his way through the saloon to the whoops and shouts of his well-wishers.

“Lottie?” Jason called to the woman who was still moving quickly around the room.

“Jason really, get your own beer. It’s alright with me.” she flashed him a smile as she scurried to the back of the room with a tray full of beverages.

“But, I…” Jason wasn’t going to ask for another beer. He wanted to know Charity’s whereabouts. He peered at the key rack for the rooms upstairs and noticed number three was missing.

He took the stairs two at a time but stopped at the top for a moment to compose himself. Suddenly it was very important for him to talk to Charity. He had to know if she was going with Aaron or not.

He rapped on number three.Charity was sitting by her window watching Aaron walk across the square,

still fielding good wishes from passersby. She was lost in her fantasies. There were her two favorites, the first where she and Aaron ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after, and the other, where Jason sweeps her off of her feet and they live to make mad passionate love forever after. It was a sweet, sweet daydream.

Jason rapped again, interrupting her trance.“Come in, Jason.” she called, smoothing her dress with sweaty palms.He burst in the door. “How did you know it was me??”She shrugged. She’d know that knock anywhere. It was exactly like him,

she thought, strong and insistent. “I’m a good guesser, I guess. What do you want?”

Jason sat on the edge of the bed. He did not feel like mincing words. “So, what’s this I hear about you going to Arizona with Aaron?” his eyes flashed bright blue, even in the dimly lit room.

Charity took offense at his tone. “He invited me.” Her brown eyes flashed right back.

“So, are you going?” Jason demanded.“Mr. Bolt.” she loved to use the formal address when making a point. “I

don’t see what business it is of yours.”“Well…” he sputtered. What business was it of his, he wondered. “Well…”“Well???”

“Well…Charity, how would it look? I mean, you running off with Aaron after everything that’s gone on?”

She struggled to stand up, “Running off? With Aaron? He invited me to go as his companion, and I still don’t see what business it is of yours. You might have paid my father off, but that doesn’t mean you own me!” Her voice began to rise.

“I do have some stake in all of this.” Jason’s voice matched hers.She grabbed her crutches, tottering while balancing herself. “Oh, really?

And what would that be, Mr. Bolt? What stake do you have in all of this?” She was very interested in his answer; however, the walls of the room were closing in on her. She batted at him with a crutch. “Move please. I need some air.”

He stumbled to get out of her way. “Hey! You can’t just walk out on me!”She limped down the hall and began to make her way down the stairs.

“Jason Bolt, don’t tell me what to do!” He remained behind her, shouting, as she stutter-stepped down the stairs,

not wanting to disturb her precarious balance.

They made for quite a sight. They continued their argument down the stairs, out the door, and into the square, oblivious to the stares of Lottie’s patrons.

Jonathan looked at Lottie quizzically.She returned the look with a smile and a wink. “Jonathan,” she said,

brushing up next to him, “I think your son has met his match.”He shook his head and raised his glass to her. Matters of Jason’s heart

were well out of his domain and control, and he’d just as soon keep it that way.

“Jason, go away!” she continued her way across the square to the large stump next to the totem pole that defined the town. She plopped herself down on the stump, breathless from the effort.

He did the same, with his back to hers.“What are you doing?” she asked testily.“I’m getting some fresh air, same as you. “ He stated, arms folded in front

of him.“Can’t you do it somewhere else?” she shook her head.“Why? There’s a nice view of the water here, and I can still keep my eye

on Lottie’s.” he turned his head slightly toward her, “and besides, it’s a free country. I can sit where I want.”

“Fine.” she stated, crossing her own arms, feeling the heat of his body next to hers.

“Fine.” he repeated.

Sitting very still and straight-backed, they could still hear the revelry coming from Lottie’s. The full moon illuminated the water in the harbor that lapped at the edges of the pier with a steady beat. A chill was in the air, and Jason could feel Charity shiver.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”Go ahead, freeze to death, Jason thought. See if I care. But a funny thing

happened under the full moon and in the chill air. Three times Jason thought he’d get up and leave her there, and three times he kept his seat. He had to know if she was going or not. Finally, he couldn’t stand the wait anymore.

“Are you going with Aaron?” he asked, muscles taught with anticipation.“Do you want me to?” came her retort. Do I want her to? No, dammit, I don’t want her to. But I’m not going to

back down first. “Why do you care what I think?”“Just curious.” her eyes narrowed to slits. I’m not going to back down first.

She shivered again, awaiting his response.“You can do what you want. It’s a...”“free country, I know, I know.” “You know it’s a long trip. Especially with those things.” He jerked his

head toward her crutches lying on the ground next to her. “Yeah. Well, Aaron will be there to help me.” she twisted the knife a little

deeper.“Oh, of course. Aaron will be there.” he repeated sarcastically. “So, what

are you going to do once you get there?”“I don’t know. What am I going to do here?”Jason could feel his resolve cracking. “Well….you could….well, hell, I

don’t know, Cherry.” “I’m not sure I want to go, but I’m not sure I have any reason to stay.” she

replied in a small voice. Jason, she thought, this is your last chance.Jason bit his bottom lip in contemplation. “I…I’ll miss you if you go.” The

words tumbled from his lips.He felt her inhale deeply, and then exhale. “I think I might miss you too,

Jason.” Cautiously he continued, his nervousness almost paralyzing him, “I was

thinking…maybe we could…you know…start from the beginning?”“The beginning of what?” She could still feel his back against hers and

wondered if he could feel her heart pounding.“Well. I mean... we didn’t get off to a very good start here, and I…I was

thinking maybe we might start again.” Women were so very trying, but yet, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Oh. I see.” Her heart leapt into her throat.“Charity…Cherry. I like talking to you. I like being around you. I....” he

stopped suddenly.“Yes…” she prompted. He turned to her and took her hand, “I don’t want you to go. Please stay…

I…” he looked down at her hand, cold in the night air, enveloped in his own. “I can’t promise anything, Cherry. But I… care for you, and I want you to stay…” he looked back into her eyes, as dark as the night sky. He drew her face close to his, “Please stay…” he murmured. She sighed as his lips pressed against hers longingly.

“I’m so glad you asked…” she returned his kiss hungrily. She wasn’t cold any longer.

Chapter 11

The dawning sun peeked into the window of the Bolt cabin, shining right into Jonathan’s eyes. He pried them open and glanced toward Jason’s bed, relieved when he saw Jason serenely sleeping there. Jonathan hadn’t heard him come in last night, as relaxed as he was after his evening at Lottie’s; he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He did remember seeing two figures sitting dockside on his way home, and wondering if it was Jason and Charity. He hoped that the two of them had come to some agreement… or something. He chuckled to himself as he remembered Lottie’s comment about Jason having met his match.

He was startled by a small knock at the door. He opened it a crack and peered out.

“Charity, lass? Is that you?” he asked softly.In lieu of a curtsy, she bobbed her head. “Good morning, Mr. Bolt. Is

Jason home?” Balanced in her right hand was a small basket.He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. “Yes, lass, but he’s still

asleep. What brings ye out here so early?”“We agreed to see Aaron off together today. High tide is in an hour or so

and I don’t want to miss him.” She nodded toward her basket, “I brought some breakfast.”

“Oh.” Jonathan was still foggy. He stood staring at the girl for a few seconds trying to collect his thoughts. “Listen, have a seat on the porch there, and I’ll see about rousing Jason.”

She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Mr. Bolt.” She limped over to the spindly chair and carefully sat down, putting her basket in her lap.

Jonathan closed the door, his mind slowly clearing. He tiptoed over to Jason, who was snoring softly. He shook his shoulders gently. “Jason…Jason?”

His son’s baby blues popped open, “Yes Da?” he said in a sleepy voice.Jonathan nodded toward the front door. “Charity’s at the door. Says ye

are going with her to see Aaron off today.”Jason sat up quickly, “Yes. Yes. I guess I’m late…” he kicked off his

covers and pulled on his trousers.“And how was your evening last night, son?” Jonathan sat back down on

his bed, creaking the springs.Jason continued to struggle with his clothes, “It was fine, Da. Just fine.”

he flashed his father a Bolt grin.Jonathan nodded knowingly. “Aye. Well, the lass says she brought

breakfast, so I guess ye won’t hav’ta be sufferin’ with my cookin’ this morning. He watched Jason run a brush through his hair, and rinse his face with the very cold water in the wash basin. “Give Aaron my best, will ye son?”

“Sure, Da. See you at camp.” Jason smiled again as he slipped out the door, his feet stamping into his boots. Jonathan lay back down on his bed contentedly, glad to see Jason smiling again.

Charity sat on the porch, the freshly-baked muffins warming her lap. She was wide awake way before dawn, so she availed herself of Lottie’s kitchen to make something for her and Jason’s breakfast. The night before had been just about perfect, the culmination of months of desire. Not physical, she could see now, but emotional. She and Jason connected in a way that she could not have foreseen. Even though they had already been lovers, Charity was delighted to find out that they were also friends. Finally, she had to admit to herself that she had wanted Jason since the night of the social, wanted him in her life and in her arms.

They sat at the pier for a long time last night talking about their past, and their future. She hadn’t really considered her future very much; recently it had seemed pretty bleak. Being with Jason helped her believe that she would be alright; he even had some ideas for what she could do next.

“Cherry…maybe you oughta ask George Stempel if you can run the Dry Goods store.”

“Jason, that’s ridiculous! What makes you think he would allow me to do that, after everything my family has done??” she was completely caught off-guard by the suggestion.

“Well,” he shrugged. “Stempel’s got a lot of money and time invested in that store, and we need it. You know how it works, and last time I checked, you haven’t committed any crimes.”

“Other than sleeping with you?” she grinned.“Ok. So there’s that. But don’t count it out, Cherry. We might be able to

make it work…you’ll see.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Charity giggled again thinking of the crazy idea that she could run the store. Jason’s mind astounded her. He was always three steps ahead of her.

She turned to see him emerge from the cabin. She straightened her posture and looked up at him. The sun was just coming up behind him and the sky was a brilliant palette of blue and pink.

“Well,” he said, crouching down next to her. “Good morning.” “Good morning. I made you some muffins.” she said, staring into his

cobalt blue eyes. “Great! I’m starving.” He helped her up, taking the basket from her, and

they navigated the step down from the porch. Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and balanced the basket on her midsection. “I think I’d rather we travel like this today.” he said, kissing her lightly on her lips.

“Oh!” was her only reply, and she rested her head on his shoulder as they meandered towards town.

Aaron was also up to see the dawn, but he was not paying attention to its beauty today. Quietly going about his last-minute packing, he munched on some day-old rolls and wondered if he could grab breakfast before the ship left dock.

“Son?” George Stempel stood in the doorway of his room, “Everything alright?”

“Yes, Father. Just gathering the last of it.” He adjusted the strap on his duffel bag so it was snug and sturdy.

“Oh, I see.” George was also completely clothed, having given up on sleep a few hours before. “Are you about ready to leave?”

Aaron nodded. “Yes, I think so. I was going to try and get a decent breakfast at Lottie’s. Think she’ll be up?”

George snickered. “Noooo. Miss Lottie is not really an early bird. I…I could cook you something.”

Aaron laughed. “That’s ok, Father. You and I both know how badly that would turn out…” he paused. “Are you going to come to see me off at the ship?” he asked with a small catch in his voice.

George looked down his shoes, partially obscured by his belly. “Oh Aaron, I don’t think so. I think I’ll say my goodbyes here.” He took a deep breath and looked back at his son. “You can still stay, you know.”

“I know. I’m ready to go, though. I’m ready.” Aaron looked back, dark eyes shining with hope. “I think it will be good for me, Father, I really do.”

George shrugged. “I’m glad you feel that way, Aaron.” Slowly, he walked toward his son. “I’ll miss you, son.” the words almost stuck in his throat.

“I’ll miss you too, Father. I’ll be in touch. When I get to San Francisco or Los Angeles I’ll write.” Aaron picked up his bag. Was there something else he needed to say? Something else his father needed to hear? “I guess I should be going.”

George took a step closer. “Aaron…I…” Suddenly, he enveloped his son in a bear hug. Shocked, Aaron dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around his portly father.

“Aaron…I love you, son.”“I love you too, Father.” he had not spoken those words since his

childhood. It felt good to say. His father had guided him his whole life and Aaron was not going to let him down.

They stood there for a moment, father and son, then Aaron could feel George back away. His eyes were damp. “Go on, now.” He turned away quickly, hoping Aaron didn’t notice his tears.

“Good bye, Father.” his voice caught in his throat. “I won’t forget what you’ve taught me.” He picked up his bag and hurried out the door.

“Good bye, Aaron.” Defeated, George turned and slowly walked back into his room.

Aaron hurried along the path, his worldly goods slung over his back. His heavy coat was unbuttoned and flapped open as he walked. He wondered if Charity would be waiting for him at the pier. After his conversation with Jason last night, he was pretty sure she would not be coming with him, but he still held

out the slightest of hopes. Hopes that were dashed upon seeing her in Jason’s arms standing next to the ship.

“Jason.” Charity hissed. “Put me down.” He set her lightly on the ground and handed her the ever-present

crutches. “Oh, here he comes.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

“Jason, stop it.” Whipping her head around, she gave him a warning look. Now he was going to be possessive? She would never understand men. “Aaron!” she called, waving to the approaching figure.

Aaron took a deep breath. It still hurt, seeing his girl in Jason’s arms. It was good to be going. He stopped when he got to where they were standing.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked, setting his bag aside. The sun had not yet warmed the morning air, and his breath came out in puffs of white.

“We came to say goodbye, Aaron.” Jason stuck out his hand. “Now, take it easy Stempel, you’ve already crushed my hand twice this week.” he joked.

Aaron took it in his. “Goodbye, Bolt. Good luck.”“The same to you, Aaron. Let’s just say until we meet again.” Aaron rolled his eyes. Was there no occasion that Jason did not feel the

need to embellish with his flowery phrases? “Whatever you prefer, Bolt. I hope you are successful here.”

Jason nodded. “Thanks Aaron. And may the cowboy life suit you…”“…like a ten-gallon hat. Thanks, Bolt.” They shared a smile.Charity elbowed Jason lightly in the ribs. “Jason, would you excuse us for

a moment?” Jason made a courtly bow and backed away from them.

They stood in silence for a moment. Aaron was the first to speak. “So, I guess this means you are not coming with me.”Charity looked down, “No, Aaron, I’m not.” She looked back up at him,

into his dark eyes, rimmed with darker lashes. She saw the lone curl escaping to his forehead from his finely combed hair. “Aaron, “ she continued. “I’m really sorry that I hurt you. Please believe me. I do care an awful lot about you, and what happens to you. Be careful. ”

“I will, Cherry, thanks.” he looked her over again, also. She was still beautiful.

“And… I…well, we… so appreciate …”Aaron put his hand on her shoulder. “I know. Cherry, it’s in the past, now.

I’m looking toward the future. I…I hope you and Jason are happy. He’s a good man.” Surprising even himself, he did truly hope that she and Jason were happy. He bent and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

The ship’s captain and crew were active on the deck now, and Aaron knew it was nearly time to go. He pulled his coat tighter around him, knowing that soon he would not be needing it anymore. He looked around the square, his home for the past four years. There wasn’t much here, the saloon, the dry goods

store, the small schoolhouse; but he knew he would miss it. Looking over at Jason, he knew he would miss him also.

He picked up his bag and turned to the gangplank when he heard Lottie’s skirts rustling behind him.

“Aaron…I couldn’t let you leave without a kiss goodbye!” she bussed him on the cheek and handed him a basket. “Just a little something.”

He sniffed, inhaling the aroma of warm baked goods. “Well, thanks, Lottie. Take care of yourself. Try to keep Jason in line…” he grinned.

Lottie glanced over at Jason and Charity. “I’ll tell him you said so.” she gave him a quick hug and stepped back.

Bag and basket in hand, Aaron mounted the gangplank. From the deck he could see his friends, and he waved heartily to them.

“Goodbye, Aaron. Godspeed.” Charity said softly. She and Jason stood arm in arm at the pier until the ship was just a small figure on the horizon.

“Cherry, I have to get up to camp now. Let me walk you back to Lottie’s.” Jason said when the ship was finally gone from their sight. He already missed Aaron, his friend and foil.

“Thanks, but I think I’d like to sit here awhile.” “All right.” he helped her get comfortable at the water’s edge. “I’ll see you

this evening.”She looked up at him, brown eyes shining. “I’d like that.” They shared a smile and Jason turned on his heel and started for his

mountain. Charity watched him walk away, until he disappeared into the brush, then she turned her eyes back to the sea.