LITMIR.BIZ

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with her around when he couldn’t get his tongue to form the words in his mind whenever she stared at him through her long black eyelashes? He couldn’t allow it. For his sake, and hers.

      The train slowed and the men within jerked when the railcars slammed against each other. Loggers began to jump off with joyful whoops that echoed through the trees. As the last man exited, Simon turned to Garrett.

      “Why did you bring her here?” Garrett scowled to Simon, ignoring the warm emotional tug of the woman slowly making her way behind her brother. He’d die if anything happened to her, and here, in the Montana wild, chances were something bad would transpire. He thought the drive dangerous enough when she was male. Heaven knows what would happen now.

      “She said she wants to have an adventure,” Simon answered. “She blackmailed me, and then snuck aboard when I tried to leave her behind. You can send her home.”

      “Excuse me!” Beth exclaimed and peered over Simon’s shoulder. “I am a big girl, capable of taking care of myself. I may need a little watching over, but I’m no child. Send me home and I’ll spill everything to the mayor. Better yet, I’ll tell the gossiping Goodall sisters.”

      He straightened his spine and glared, but his shoulders dropped. “Nothing I’ve said has changed your mind. Garrett’s the riverman foreman, and he’s going to say the same thing I did. Go home, Elizabeth.”

      “No.”

      The woman was impossible. Exactly how he’d imagined her to be all those times he’d studied her on the platform. Her air of refined control enough to convince one of social graces, but on closer look mischief always flickered in her crystal blue eyes. Challenging one to take control of her fiery ways. A challenge he’d always wanted to take on. But he was a man, leader of the Devil May Cares for hell’s sake, and he’d let the fear of a small woman control him long enough. No more.

      Garrett too glared at Elizabeth. “Perhaps a wallop would set you to rights.”

      “You can’t do that. You’re not my brother.”

      Thank God! Not only did she render him dim witted when near, but he didn’t need another girl full of machinations to rescue in town. He had no sister to watch over, and enough troubles with his housekeeper’s daughter. The woman he would marry would be docile and sweet tempered—the perfect ornament for his parlor. The woman he agreed to let his parents choose for him in exchange for one last logging season. Miserable in love, but comfortable in life.

      Elizabeth needed to be home in Missoula. Safe. If only she were one of the sweet, docile women his father admired so much. If only Simon hadn’t ruined all hope for he and Beth. He couldn’t fault his friend completely. Simon was simply doing what men of his age and status do best. Women and booze. That didn’t stop his father’s judgment, though. There was no way in hell his father would reconsider Elizabeth Sanders suitable for the wife of a Jones, was there?

      Garrett stalked past Simon to Beth. Her eyelashes fluttered at the abrupt movement, so he concentrated on her mouth in order to get the authoritative words to move from his brain, to tongue. He softened his voice, but ensured the tone reflected the importance. “You need a strong hand.”

      She repeated her words in a breathless plea. “You’re not my brother, or my father.”

      “No, ma’am, but I know you almost as well. I’ve heard about your antics every spring for the last five years. I know for a fact you need a good set down.”

      “Are you going to let him talk to me like this, Simon?” A slight panic shook her voice.

      Simon let out a huff of laughter. “Yes, I am, sis. Because he’s right. You do need a wallop. You’re spoiled, and God knows I have never told you no before now. If Garrett wants to be the one to put you in line, then he has my permission.”

      “You’re both mad.”

      “That’s why they hire us,” Garrett said to the defiant woman. He studied her perfect lips, the bottom one wet where she’d released it from between her teeth. “We don’t call ourselves the Devil May Care boys for nothing.”

      Garrett stilled as she shifted, drawing ever-so-slightly closer to him.

      Should she stay here in camp, he could have her for one season. Be near her. For just one season he could collect a lifetime of memories to keep him happy once they parted. There were women in camp. Why couldn’t she be one of them? She bit her lip again, and he ached to reach out and touch the silky softness of her mouth with his.

      Selfish as it was, he couldn’t send her away.

      “If this is going to happen, and you stay on, I can’t allow you to run rampant, Lizbe. It’s too dangerous.” He had to find a way to show her who was boss. A way that wouldn’t cause her to despise him for the rest of her life. He forced back the resigned sigh deep within his chest. This is going to be an exceptionally long spring.

      Beth’s eyes flashed with defiance. “You can’t call me Lizbe. That’s my brother’s nickname for me.”

      “I know. As I said before, I know everything about you.”

      Beth trembled so Garrett softened a bit and stopped herding her to the corner. Her lips firmed and relaxed—an indication of the mixed emotions swelling inside her. She didn’t even know how well he could read her mood simply by watching her mouth.

      Simon stepped in front of the door, a barrier from the men outside. Catching the movement, Garrett wedged Beth farther into the corner. His fears resurfaced the closer he drew to her warmth. He wanted nothing more than to touch her. Sweep her up into his arms and make her his forever. What he needed to do was leap from the car, disappear in his work, and let her stay in camp with her brother. He scowled at Simon. “You lied to me.”

      “I know, but I need your help,” Simon pleaded.

      Garrett gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll find her a safe place to work. The bateau, maybe? If I take a position with her in the boat, I can watch over her. I’d say send her to work with the cook, but you know how Aunt June gossips. She might expose her as a woman, and I’m afraid if the men discover her dressed this way, her reputation would be ruined.”

      Simon nodded. “I might never get her married off if any men found out she was traipsing around dressed like that. Gossip would spread like a brushfire the moment they sent letters home. If she trains hard, she could handle the bateau. She may be a conniving bulldozer, but she’s not some frail ninny.”

      “You talk as if I’m not standing right here,” Beth snapped, but he and Simon ignored her.

      Garrett tried not to scoff. When had Simon ever cared about his sister’s reputation? If he had, he’d have taken care in his own life. Acted like Garrett instead of a two-bit lumberjack.

      “She’ll be safe in the bateau,” Simon continued. “The cook takes a boat down the river with the drive. This is only one step away from the cook raft. If she’s in the bateau, she’s away from harm and people, and my reputation…and neck…are safe.” The lines on his face softened. “I suppose if we can’t get her to go home, that’s the best we could do. Just take care. She’s difficult to control.”

      Beth gave another sound, irritated at being left out of the conversation.

      Garrett faced Simon once more. “The bateau it is.” Life on the river was not going to be easy, but at least he’d be there to watch over her. Protect her from harm.

      “What’s a bateau? Is that the cook boat, or a riverman one? I forget.” Beth crossed her arms over her chest. The small movement pulled her shirt taut. Garrett tried not to stare. The damned bands did nothing to hide the roundness of her breasts.

      He couldn’t answer, but simply stared at the sinfully breathtaking sight before him. One that made his heart race, and stomach feel empty. He shouldn’t be watching the display, but he couldn’t help it.

      “What’s a bateau?”

      The

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