The Midwife's Secret. Kate Bridges

not taking no fer an answer. I’ve been cookin’ fer the last hour. Fresh bread. Fried-egg sandwiches and pickled peppers.” Spotting Amanda’s grandmother as she came out of the privy, she called out “You’ll join us, won’t you, Miss Clementine?”

      Miss Clementine waved them off with a plump arm, like a queen waving from a balcony. “Go on without me. I’ll have my tea and toast sitting on a chair, thank you.”

      It seemed there was no way out. But tomorrow, he vowed as he trudged through the aspens to the river, he’d come more prepared to say no. Around women, you always had to stay on your toes. How much time would this take?

      Amanda found a seat on the other side of Ellie, by a large boulder heating in the sun. In the distance, the Banff Springs Hotel towered over the pines. While the women discussed babies and delivery, the men grunted a few words at each other about the snow melt. Tom was eating as fast as he could.

      Amanda ate only half of his quantity. Her delicate lashes flashed over high cheekbones as she sipped cold tea. When Donald and Ellie nuzzled closer together, discussing something intimate, the silence between Amanda and Tom grew uncomfortable.

      How did he get trapped in this awkward situation?

      Finally, staring up the mountainside at the turrets and balconies of the big hotel, Amanda broke it. “Imagine being so wealthy you could afford to travel simply for the pleasure.”

      Tom leaned back on the hard log, his long legs crossed in front of him. “I can’t imagine it myself. Starting at three dollars and fifty cents a room.”

      Amanda choked on her drink. “Every night?”

      “Ridiculous what tourists will pay, isn’t it?”

      “Who are they, the people who come here?”

      “Wealthy from the east. Some from the States. Most from England and the rest of Europe. Last year, we got almost three thousand visitors. This year, we expect five thousand. During the next three weeks, guests will be trickling into the big hotel. Hundreds of them, eventually, to fill the two hundred and fifty rooms. Some of the other boarding houses are full already. New restaurants are being built.”

      He gazed at the huge monument, designed after a Scottish baronial castle. “They’re folks who want to dip their bodies in hot springs and explore uncharted mountains. Mountaineers, they call them in Switzerland. Only five miles on either side of this railroad has been surveyed, the rest is waiting for human contact. Have you ever been on top of a mountain?”

      Their breathing came in unison. “No.”

      “You should. It’s pretty.” He couldn’t miss the feminine, musky smell of her. “Have you ever tried the hot springs?”

      She lowered her tin cup. “No,” she whispered. “It appears I haven’t done much.”

      “The Cave and Basin have cabins set up, one for men and one for women.” He studied her. Clarissa had done it all—hiking, soaking in the hot springs, packing trails, fishing, hunting, ice-boat sailing in the winter. What would it be like to take Amanda to the springs? He was certain she’d be shy to remove her clothing, even if she were only surrounded by other women. Unlike Clarissa. “Did you know they accidentally built the hotel backward?”

      She bit her lip. “Now you’re teasing.”

      “Aye, it’s true,” Ellie piped in.

      “Apparently,” said Tom, “someone misinterpreted the blueprints.”

      “Blueprints?” Amanda asked.

      “The drawing plans.”

      “Oh.” As she turned to face him, her waist twisted, accentuating the outline of her breasts beneath the cloth. “But weren’t you involved in its building?”

      He pulled up to a sitting position and tried to find something else to look at, rather than her unexpected contours. He spotted an elk lapping at the river’s edge. When he indicated the elk to her, she smiled, unaware of her allure.

      “I supplied the lumber and one crew of finishing carpenters, but they hired their own framers. The front of the building is where the back should be, and the back is where the front should be. The kitchen staff got the best view of the river valley, so they’re not complaining. Luckily, the view is beautiful no matter what direction you turn the hotel.”

      Donald plucked the checkered cloths from their laps and packed them. “I hear now they’re havin’ their troubles with burstin’ water pipes. Too much water pressure.”

      “Even after piping the water sixty-nine hundred feet,” Tom said, “it still comes out strong. A hot one hundred and ten degrees. Amazing.”

      “Tell us what it looks like on the inside,” said Donald. “Has the fancy furniture arrived fer it yet?”

      Tom nodded. “Yeah, last week. In the ballroom, they’ve got mahogany dining chairs with ball and claw feet, look just like authentic Chippendale. Smooth as silk. As you enter the lobby, they’ve got tables with inlaid patterns of satinwood. Tapered legs and shield-back chairs to match, replicas of Hepplewhite.”

      When they’d finished eating, Amanda wiped crumbs off her skirt. Was it his imagination, or was she squirming away from him? Tom wondered as they headed back.

      As soon as she spotted them, Grandma tore off on her bicycle to visit the neighbors rather than help in the afternoon. Tom breathed a huge sigh of relief, but Donald frowned in disapproval.

      He leaned in close to Tom’s ear. “Folks are sayin’ they’re a wee bit strange, ridin’ around on that thing.”

      Tom kept chopping his cedar. “It’s their choice to do as they please. Timmm…bbber.” He watched the tree crash, being very careful of Amanda’s whereabouts. He’d been aware of her whereabouts the whole day. He didn’t want any injuries on his hands, he told himself.

      But every time he looked her way or stepped closer to offer his help in dragging branches, she’d ignored him. Ignored him! He wasn’t used to being ignored.

      In the late afternoon, loading up their supplies, Amanda removed her gloves and ran a hand over her mass of thick hair, tendrils that had escaped in the wind. She’d been bitten by blackflies, Tom noticed, along her slender neck and in the hollow of her throat. Even the tops of her hands. He shook his head. Her lotion must have rubbed off. If he’d noticed earlier, he would have sent her to sit in the shack.

      Donald took the shovel from Amanda. “Why do you ride a bicycle and not a horse?”

      She clapped the dust from her gloves. “The cost of oats for a bicycle is remarkably low.”

      Tom laughed, but Donald wasn’t so sure.

      Keeping his gaze on Amanda, Tom replied thoughtfully. “And you don’t have to water it, or shoe it, or ever file its teeth. Or worry that the wild hay you’re feeding it is lacking nourishment because there was too much summer rain.”

      She made a quick, involuntary appraisal of his face. Her eyes softened. “That’s right.”

      Yeah, she was a damn fascinating woman.

      “I’ll need a well dug,” she said to Tom as they were leaving. “Can you set up a spring room in the cabin?”

      “I could. I’ll bring my father before the week is up. He’s good at finding water. We’ll locate the well, then build the house around that. You should go in now, put something on those bites.” The last part came out more tenderly than he’d wanted.

      She swallowed and nodded gently. Donald disappeared down the path that led to his home. Tom walked in the opposite direction to his wagon.

      While the horse pulled out and clomped down the path, something made Tom turn to stare at the cabin window. She was watching him. A lantern glowed behind her, playing softly against her cheeks. When she pulled the curtain closed, his body sank with an unexpected feeling of…what?