Fiery Passion

Book 3: Montana Mountain Romance

by Dawn Luedecke

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

Passion and honor collide in the wild and rugged American West, where one woman’s love of adventure is matched by her desire for one man . . . Victoria Harrison had no desire to marry to secure her position as heir to her family’s lumber business. And she doesn’t want to seek a man’s help now. But with her prized Great Mountain Lumber Mill threatened by one of her father’s old enemies, she needs an ally. She’s found one in Wall Adair, the handsome new leader of the notorious gang of rivermen known as the Devil May Cares. It takes a lot of guts to run the biggest mill this side of the Rocky Mountains, and Wall admires Victoria’s determination to do it on her own terms. With each day they spend together, he uncovers a vulnerability hidden deep behind her strong façade. Wall has a duty to uphold—one that’ll soon call him away from the freedom he loves and back to his family’s ranch. Until then, he’ll protect the boss lady with every ounce of his strength . . . knowing the devil himself can’t keep him from losing his heart . . . “Well written, well researched. Like the river, this plot runs faster and faster. Readers won’t be able to put it down.” — New York Times bestselling author Jodi Thomas on White Water Passion

Release date: September 11, 2018

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 224

Sample

Chapter 1

Missoula, Montana Territory, Spring 1889

Wall Adair sat back to enjoy the scene as Victoria Harrison—the new owner of Great Mountain Lumber Mill—tiptoed with her dainty, silk-covered slippers through the ankle-high mud. Somewhere between the train depot and the stockyards, Victoria had parked her expensive buggy. Now she picked her way across a street even he didn’t like to trudge through. The question was why?

Not that he didn’t enjoy the show.

In all his years working for the daring woman’s father, and now the woman herself, he’d only met her the year before when she’d visited the camp, thinking herself engaged to Garrett—the old leader of the rivermen known to all as the Devil May Cares. She’d flounced into camp, snubbing all but Garrett.

Now Wall would return to work and find out just what sort of woman could run the biggest lumber mill this side of the Rocky Mountains. Especially since she couldn’t be much older than twenty-five, at most.

A viper, no doubt.

Curious, Wall leapt from his seat on the top rung of the fence just in time to splash mud on her full, dark blue skirt. He cringed, expecting to hear a screech similar to the ones his four sisters gave whenever he offended their wardrobes. Like his pa taught him, he swept his large brimmed cowboy hat off his head, and ducked his chin. “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. I needed to clean my dress anyway, and today is washday.” She said the words with a quaver of encouragement, but he didn’t believe it for even a moment. Not when she swiped at it furiously with her gloved hand, only to spread it along the fine fabric. He tipped half his mouth back in a grin at the sight. The top of her shoulders dropped, and she stared at him once more with a frown.

He smoothed the edge of his hat between the pinched fingers of his left hand. Every time her eyes met his, his stomach flipped like he’d just launched from a log into the deadly white water beneath a log jam. And he hated the listless feeling of falling into the unknown. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was looking for Garrett.”

“At the stockyards?” He didn’t bother to hide his shock. Garrett owned the local railroad company, but the train wasn’t due to pick up the traded bulls at the stockyards for another day, and his friend wasn’t always on it. Unless Victoria was shut away in her white tower for the last twenty-something years, she knew the train schedule. Everyone in Missoula did. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Victoria pursed her lips and flicked her gaze out past the train station building. Wall followed her line of sight, but the only thing he could pick out that the daft woman might possibly stare at was the train depot itself—a few hundred yards away, past sections of muck and the rail lines.

He propped one muddy foot on the bottom rung of the fence, and leaned on his knee. The Lord hadn’t skimped on materials when he made Victoria Harrison, but she knew as much. With long, dark hair and eyes to match the most delicious chocolate dessert at a fancy table. She possessed beauty, brains, and a bit of sass, which made a woman like her irresistible. Too bad she was the boss, and dead set on being the man of whatever household she graced.

While one hand grasped a folded piece of paper, she reached up with the second to rub the sapphire stone in the silver necklace she wore, still staring off into the distance. Silence stretched between them until his gut twisted in concern. Not for the venomous woman before him, but because he knew that look. She’d gotten herself in some sort of trouble.

“Miz Victoria?” he questioned, and let his foot drop to the ground once more, hoping it would be enough to break into whatever thoughts caused her eyes to change from the color of well-oiled leather, to the hue of the filthy mud staining her dress.

“My apologies.” She glanced around the stockyards with her brows drawn together and lips pinched tight. Whatever caused the wrinkle in her forehead didn’t sit right. She may be a vixen hell-bent on getting her way, but the look in her eyes was like the one his troublemaking sister, Willa, got whenever she needed help. If there was one thing that could get his attention, it was a woman in need. Victoria threw back her shoulders. “Do you know where Garrett might be? There’s a matter of some importance I need his help with.”

“He and Beth took off up the mountain this morning to offload my steam pulley. He won’t return until tomorrow night. He’s gotta come back to pick up the loader, men, and supplies.”

Victoria’s shoulders dropped once more, and she glanced back at the spot as if she expected a bull to come charging around the corner.

Wall took a step closer to her. “What do you need? I can help until Garrett gets back.”

“No. I’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She bowed her head slightly and turned to walk away. He studied the sway of her hips as she picked her way through the muck. The filthy hem of her skirts dragged in the mud like a child who didn’t want to go to Sunday services. Where in the world is she going? Her fancy carriage was parked in the opposite direction from where she walked now, but she’d headed toward whatever spot she’d stared at while they spoke. Wall always listened to his gut, and his gut told him that something wasn’t right.

“I swear on the Good Book,” he mumbled out loud, “if she’s headed toward something dangerous, I’ll kill her myself.”

“Who are you going to kill?” He recognized his brother’s voice, and turned as Jax stopped next to him. The youngest of the Adair brood, and only other male in the family besides their father and grandpap, whom they called Pappy. The kid had grown significantly over the last season and now rivaled Wall in height. In another year or two he’d be looking up at his younger brother—who otherwise could have been his mirror image.

Wall motioned toward where Victoria finally managed to find a dry patch of land to walk on. “My boss lady.” He slapped his brother on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t mind taking care of the bulls, would you? I’ve got something I need to do before we head to the hotel.”

“Pappy wants to meet us when were finished so we can eat.”

“I’ll find you at the hotel if I’m done on time. If not, then tell Pappy I had some business to attend to. He should be fine with it unless he wants us to tell Pa he left us to sell the bulls alone while he went and shopped for a new cowboy hat and boots like a woman.”

“I ain’t telling him that,” his brother said with a frown. “But I will make an excuse for you as long as I don’t have to come bail you out of the hoosegow for murderin’ your boss.”

“Murder isn’t what I’d like to do with that woman.” Wall gave a half-smile and glanced over his brother’s shoulder to where the bulls they’d driven over that morning stomped restlessly in the holding pen. “Make certain they give you no less than a thousand for the lot. If they try to bulldoze you, then tell them no deal.”

“But Pa told us not to come home with the bulls. He don’t care how much they give us.”

“You, me, and Pappy knows that, but the buyers don’t. Keep a hard stare and you’ll get what you asked for. Especially for these bulls.”

His brother nodded, and Wall rushed past, studying the corner of the building where Victoria had disappeared moments before. His gut told him to hurry. Whatever the woman was into, and no matter how independent she fancied herself, she needed a man.

Wall rounded the building in time to see the flash of her blue dress swishing into an alley across the street, and his stomach tightened as his blood pumped hard through his veins. What in the Good Lord’s name was she doing?

He searched the streets, but other than a few passersby oblivious to anyone not in their paths, no one appeared to give one wit about Victoria’s business. Except him. With care to avoid the piles of manure dotting the streets, he followed her into the alley, and slid among the shadows as best he could.

Halfway down the line of buildings, Victoria stood partially turned away from him as she met with Luther, a man who had been fired from the mill last season. Wall pressed his back against the building to keep out of sight as he picked his way silently down the alley.

Victoria gasped as if needing extra air, and she crumbled the paper in her hands as Luther scowled and mumbled something low enough only she could hear.

Wall inched his way closer until Luther’s words were clear enough to understand.

“If you don’t, Miz Harrison,” Luther said. “I can’t guarantee you’ll make it past this season.”

Victoria lifted her chin. “I will not be blackmailed by a bunch of vagrants, and I certainly won’t be bulldozed by their half-wit lackey. You can tell your friends that should they set foot near my camps, they will be shot on sight. And believe me when I say, my men don’t miss. They may be a bunch of hardened loggers, but they are crackpot shots.”

“I know all too well what sort of men you employ up there. I can stop this from happening, but not if you aren’t willing to help yourself. Take the deal.”

“No.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. It’d be best if you were back home worrying about how to find a man too blind to see you’re flaws as a woman.” Luther pressed his hand over his chest with fingers splayed across the frayed shirt fabric. “You’re in over your head. You’re going to fail. I’m just trying to help you out here. I wouldn’t want you to grow old all alone.”

Victoria opened her mouth to speak and took a step forward.

“There you are,” Wall said, emerging from the shadow before she had a chance to respond. “I thought the meeting was in the alley behind the bank.” Wall hurried to stand next to her, looped is arm around her waist, and tugged her protectively to his side. He didn’t trust Luther not to hit a woman. The man was no better than a river rat.

Victoria’s lashes fluttered as she peered up at him. Her lips puckered as though the words had frozen in her mouth, and brown eyes flashed somewhere between shock and gratitude. Lordy she was pretty. Even with her face stuck in a funny expression. Pretty and dangerous, judging by the earful he was going to receive for interfering.

He smiled down at her, and then turned his attention back to Luther. “I meant to be here before Miz Victoria so I could send you packing with a warning or two to remember.”

Luther snarled. “You’re not involved in this, Wall, stay out.”

“Miz Victoria’s safety is of utmost concern to me. I will not stay out of Great Mountain business as long as she’s in danger.”

“You mean Big Mountain business. It’s the Big Mountain Lumber Mill.” Luther’s face twitched.

“Us homeboys like to call it Great Mountain ‘cause that’s what it is to the people of Bonner. Great. Great for the town, and great for the lives of the people within.”

Luther curled his lips back. “You’re all the same, you Devil boys. Sticking your nose where it shouldn’t be, and actin’ like the world belongs to you.”

“This world does. See, I’m a sort of business partner now, and I believe she gave you her answer. If you ever threaten her, or any other woman at Great Mountain again then you can guarantee I’ll snap every bone in your body before feeding you to the wolf pack that lives near the logging camp.” Wall gave him a smile and tipped his hat before picking up Victoria’s hand and entwining it through his arm to guide her out of the alley, leaving the sniveling little fool to stutter to himself.

They rounded the corner to the nearest building when Victoria regained her composure, and yanked her arm from his. “What did you do?”

“From what I saw, I saved your pretty little hide.”

“You’ve ruined everything.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You went and lied about our partnership, and they certainly aren’t going to take me seriously as a businesswoman now if they think I have a man calling the shots.”

“I hate to break it to you, but they don’t take you seriously…as a…” He stopped talking once her icy glare permeated his thoughts.

She halted, and crossed her arms. If it wasn’t for the mud and dung bogging down her feet, he suspected she’d be tapping one impatient foot.

“Don’t stop now,” he urged, hoping she wasn’t going to be the one to go to the hoosegow for murdering him. “You’re standing in the middle of horse shit.”

She jerked her gaze down and yanked up her skirts to view her feet, ankle deep in manure. Wall chuckled as her chin quivered. She tried valiantly to walk with dignity, but tripped.

He might find the whole situation amusing were the pathetic person in question anyone but Victoria Harrison. Without waiting for her to argue, he took her elbow and entwined her arm through his once more. As expected, she fought to yank her hand free.

“Don’t get your back up. My ma taught me to always help a woman cross the street.” He studied Victoria’s raised chin, and chuckled. Even a woman as surly and vulnerable as the one by his side. “I would do the same for a big ol’ barmaid named Gertrude were she the one to step in dung.”

“Aren’t you the charmer,” Victoria quipped, as she leaned onto his arm for support.

“Gertrude has never complained.” He smiled, and maneuvered so they walked along the less muddy sections of the stockyard as they progressed toward her pretty little buggy.

“I’m certain she hasn’t.” Victoria straightened her back and eased her arm away from him when she was once more on solid land. “Do you even know what you’ve entangled yourself in by interfering back there?”

“From what I gather, you’re an easy target because you’re a woman in a man’s world, and should be back home finding a husband who will look past your advanced age and manly disposition.”

She answered by growling at him and stepping hard into her buggy.

“What did I say? Is there more to it?”

“Stay out of my business, Mr. Adair. Else you might find yourself being nothing but a filthy cowboy for the rest of your life. You certainly won’t work at Great Mountain if you irritate me further. I can always find another logger eager to fill your position with the Devil May Cares.” Without another word, she snapped the reins and sent her buggy rolling, barely missing his toes as he stepped back.

Wall shrugged, and turned to check for his brother among the cattle and cowboys, but he wasn’t there. He headed toward his horse. Victoria was right about one thing—if he wasn’t careful he could lose his job at the lumber camp. And it would make his pappy and pa damn happy to have him back home to help on the homestead.

He wasn’t ready to settle down on the Lazy Heart Ranch. Not just yet.

Victoria’s spirit reminded him of the bay mustang he’d tamed five years ago. Wild and unmanageable. The mare had bucked and kicked whenever anyone tried to approach her, even took one of their cowhand’s fingers clean off with one good bite, but in the end, Wall had won the battle. It had taken him almost a year to gain the animal’s trust, but by God he’d broken the beast with a strong hand and hard determination. Maybe what Victoria needed was to be tamed like the mare.

* * * *

Victoria lifted her skirts as she climbed the steps to her father’s house. The muck from the stockyards had long since dried on her shoes and hem, and the extra weight made the fine lace aligning the bottom of her dress heavy against her shins with each step. The gown was ruined, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to address the blackmailer who’d sent her the letter earlier that morning and, to her great disappointment, without Garrett there to stand by her side as partner.

And then Wall—with his irritating smile and patronizing comments—showed up out of nowhere to intervene just as she was gaining ground in her battle. Didn’t he know the blackmailers wanted to see her fail because she was a woman? And his interference had done nothing but help to prove the blackmailers right in their assumptions. They knew she worked with Garrett, but Wall’s interference gave the impression she’d taken on a man in her life. One to take care of business for her. It would make them think she was weak in matters of business, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t because she was a woman.

It was because she wasn’t cutthroat enough. She’d expanded her father’s business into railroad logging by making an equally beneficial deal with Garrett. One where they’d agreed to work together based on her managing Great Mountain as she’d always wanted…only this deal gave her free rein to do so without having to share the responsibility with a husband. To her surprise, her father had accepted the business arrangement with only minimum argument.

She’d gambled by adding a few dozen more workers to the camps. And who was to say if the risk would pay off in the end? It had better, or else she chanced running her company into the ground the very first year she took it over from her father.

What she needed to do was show her authority not only to her workers, but her rivals as well. But how?

“Victoria, is that you?” her father called from his study as she walked through the ornate front door, and shut it behind her.

She dropped her head to the side to stretch the tight muscles in her neck, and yanked her gloves from her fingers. Tossing them on the side table next to the front door, she hurried into her father’s study.

“Ah, it is you,” he said from his favorite wing-backed chair next to the large fireplace. “Good. Have you seen this article in The Missoulian about Hartland, Montana?”

“No.” She sat into the chair opposite him and settled her skirts in an attempt to hide the filth.

“It seems Hartland is a little nothing town up the road from the mill. The mountains around the town are belly full of Douglas fir,” her father said, folded his newspaper to fit in one hand, and peered at her from over the top of his spectacles. “And you know who needs a mountain’s worth of fir, don’t you?”

Lordy, this is a test. Although the man claimed to have retired, he loved to whip the reins from the back of the wagon. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his help. Over the last year he’d taken her to task over the workings of the mill so he could take her mother to visit her sister in Washington, and that time was fast approaching.

But she had no idea who needed a mountain’s worth of Douglas fir. She shook her head and held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t reprimand her like he was apt to do when disappointed.

Instead, he slapped his knee with the newspaper and lifted his head when he said, “The railroad company. With Garrett expanding the lines for the new logging operation, he’s going to need those trees.”

“I’d venture to guess he already has a supplier.”

“Yes,” her father said. “Us, and we’re running low. We need to broaden our reach, and Garrett’s given us the means to do so with his railroad logging contraptions.”

“So you think I should get the rights to log up there? Move the company?”

“Well, not today, obviously, you have a season coming up and plenty of trees where you are. But it’s something to think about.”

“Garrett is away on business. When he returns I’ll speak with him, and then talk to Gustav to get the land rights from the town of Hartman. He seems like a good enough lawyer.”

“He is,” her father agreed. “Gustav told me Laughlin Hartman, the owner of the biggest ranch around these parts, well, he brought some cattle in today. See if you can’t track him down and feel him out.” Her father pulled his pocket watch out by the chain, and flicked it open, squinting at the face through his spectacles. “I imagine he should be finding a good place to eat right about now.”

Victoria tipped her head to the side. “Why would we need to talk to a rancher?”

Her father peered at her from over his spectacles again. “Because he owns the town and all of the land around it. You need to meet with him. Charm him. See if he’s open to selling the rights, or even some land.”

“I thought you were retired?” she asked, giving him a teasing grin. “And letting me take over the family business. After I so subtly convinced you I didn’t need a husband to run the mill.”

Her father chuckled at her jest, for the way in which she escaped a marriage with Garrett was far from subtle.

“I am letting you run the mill, my dear,” he said. “With Paul watching your every move until he’s certain you’re ready to go at it alone.”

“Yet here you are, orchestrating a new endeavor.”

“Discovering, more like. All the logistics I’ll leave to you.” Her father reclined back in his chair, and snapped open his newspaper once more. Successfully bringing their conversation to a close. Which she was happy for. Her skirts were all but begging to be tossed into the wash bin.

Victoria rose from her chair, and then leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek.

“Give that dress to Ms. Bates to wash before your mother sees you. You’ll send her into a tither if she sees you’ve been traipsing around a hog barn in your French lace.”

“Is she upstairs?”

“In the kitchen,” he answered, and then turned back to his reading.

Victoria tiptoed in her no doubt smelly slippers down the hallway and up the stairs, flinching when the middle step squeaked. She wanted to change and escape without her mother knowing she was even at their Missoula home.

Lately, Victoria had been living with a small staff at their Bonner home, and only came into town for necessary social events and when her mother called her back. Her parents, however, had opted to stay in town, much to her father’s irritation. But whatever her mother wished, her father supplied. At least that’s how their relationship had been ever since her father had decided to retire.

It was sweet really. After several decades of sacrifice and tears on her mother’s part, she was rewarded with a newly retired, doting husband who did nothing but please his bride of twenty-five years.

If only Victoria could find a man who loved her as much as her father did her mother. She’d fancied herself above such frivolity until Garrett had pleaded to be released from their engagement because he was deeply in love with Elizabeth Sanders. She’d released him, and ever since then had envied the looks lovers shared, and not just her parents or Garrett and Elizabeth, but any couple who peered at each other with that certain look in their eyes. She dreamed that one day she could be so lucky.

But first she must concentrate on making the mill even more successful than her father did. Not to mention fight off a couple of blackmailers who wanted to see her fail. Who were these men, anyway? Whoever it was had to be a coward to send another man to talk for him. She preferred to do business in person.

Not bothering to ring for help from Ms. Bates, she struggled to change into a simple white, high-necked blouse and black walking skirt. Opting for the sturdier work boots she loved to wear at the mill. When she’d set out that morning to run errands, she hadn’t anticipated getting a threatening letter or meeting a nefarious lackey in an alley across from the stockyards—or stepping in horse manure, for that matter—so she’d worn slippers and a dainty dress suitable for tea with bosom friends, not barn work.

Victoria laced her shoes, and stood back to look at herself in the mirror. Satisfied, she ran a quick hand over her hair to smooth the loose tendrils, and sniffed to ensure she no longer smelled like manure. How cowboys could stand to walk around reeking of sweaty horse, or worse. . .