Lisa Bingham - Accidental Courtship

“I would have thought the ‘no women’ clause that this mine is well known for having would have been a huge clue.”

“The miners are forbidden to have emotional entanglements. There was no mention of the support staff having a similar rule.”

She was purposely taking the conversation in circles, and they’d been through all that with Batchwell and Bottoms, so Jonah decided to cut to the chase. “But why do you want to work here, Dr. Havisham?”

She placed her plate on the table. She hadn’t eaten everything, but she’d come close.

“You spoke of the men coming to Batchwell Bottoms to better themselves, Mr. Ramsey. Am I to be excluded of the opportunity because of my sex?”

“Come now, Miss Havisham. Why would you come to a mining community famous for its exclusion of women?”

She finally met him in the eye. “I’ve spent my life knocking down fences, Mr. Ramsey. Perhaps I saw it as another fence.”

Jonah could tell from the soft flash of her eyes and the thread of steel in her tone that she was telling him the truth—at least a part of it. From what little he knew of her already, he supposed that she’d been rebelling against the narrow confines of her gender since the moment that her father had seen fit to give her a boy’s name. Had the man held it against her that she hadn’t been born male? Or had he blamed her somehow for her mother’s demise?

There was obviously more to her motives than a simple act of rebellion, but the tilt of her chin made it clear that she wouldn’t be telling him anytime soon, because she took a quick sip of her cocoa, then asked, “I came here tonight because I was wondering when you and your men would be returning to the wreckage.”

His brows rose. “That was your emergency?”

“Yes. When will you be going back?”

“Near as I can tell...next spring.”

“But you can’t! You and your men have to go back tomorrow!”

Jonah took a deep swig of the cocoa, nearly burning his tongue. “Why’s that?”

“We...the women...we need our things.”

He offered a bark of laughter. “I’m afraid that some dresses and petticoats aren’t worth the lives of my men.”

“It’s not just dresses and petticoats, Mr. Ramsey. The women were rescued wearing only the most basic of clothing. If we’re to be marooned here for days—possibly weeks—we’ll need those bags.”

“Why? According to Batchwell, none of you will be allowed beyond the hall steps until such time as we can convey all of you to the nearest town.”

Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the lamp. For all intents and purposes, Dr. Havisham had been told that—contract or no contract—at the first possible convenience, she’d be sent packing.

“You and I both know that such an arrangement is unfeasible. At some point, the women will need to take the air.”

“They can take all the air they want. All they have to do is open a window.”

She shook her head. “That will never do. These women aren’t prisoners, Mr. Ramsey.”

“They aren’t exactly invited guests.”

“So they’re to be punished? From what I can see, the other passengers—the crew, the stranded farmers and businessmen, even the families—aren’t being held to the same constraints.”

Hoping to avoid a full-fledged argument, Jonah chose his words with care. “Not punished. Consider it...protected.”

“Protected? From what? Life?”

“This is a mining community, Dr. Havisham. By definition, that means that it is inhabited by a bunch of men.”

“Are your employees convicts? Of ill-repute?”

“No.”

“Then you hold them in so little esteem that you believe they will...what? Explode? If they get too close to an unattached woman?”

“Not at all, Miss Havisham.”

“Doctor.”

“Look... Sumner—may I call you Sumner?”

“No.” Her look was obstinate, but she finally relented. “Oh, very well.”

“All right... Sumner. The men here are tasked with a difficult and dangerous job—”

“The women have no designs on going into the mine, Mr. Ramsey.”

“If I’m to call you Sumner, then you must call me Jonah,” he offered impatiently.

It was clear that she was loath to embrace such informality, but he waited until she finally conceded.

“Very well. Jonah.” She took another sip of her cocoa. “The women will confine their activities to the town proper.”

“No.”

“No?”

“As I was saying, the men of Batchwell Bottoms have been chosen with great care. In order to even apply for a job here, they have to prove that they already have a good deal of mining experience. But that’s not the only measure of whether or not they’ll get a position. These miners have to prove that they are God-fearing men of good character—”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her with an upraised hand.

“—and then, they have to agree to certain stipulations—”

“I know, I know. No drinking, cussing, smoking, gambling and no womanizing.”

Clearly, she’d read the advertisement for employment carefully, even if she’d omitted mentioning that she was a woman applying for a man’s job.

“If you will remember, the advertisements state ‘no women.’ They do not use the term womanizing.”

“I simply assumed—”

“Then you assumed wrong. These men have given up a lot to be here—including tailoring their behavior to a certain code of conduct. But that’s not the most significant sacrifice they’ve made, Sumner. Most of these miners come from back east, the British Isles, Italy and Greece. In order to pay for their passages to the wilds of Utah, the vast majority of them have signed an agreement to work for five years to pay off the debt. Despite the nickname this place has earned, not all of them came to us as bachelors.”

He pointed to the window where the sky was already beginning to turn to gray. “Out there are fathers, brothers, husbands and sweethearts who have agreed to spend years away from their loved ones in order to make a new future, not just for themselves, but for their families. They’re willing to do the job and live with untold privations so that, one day, they can send for them.”

“I hardly think that our group would—”

“They will be a temptation.”

“One we can rebuff.”

“But worse,” Jonah continued, “they’ll be a reminder, Sumner. And sometimes, simply seeing a reminder of what you’re missing can be the cruelest form of torture.”

To her credit, she finally fell silent. For several minutes, she ruminated on his words.

“Are you missing someone, Jonah?”

The question was so unexpected—and far too personal for their short acquaintance—that for a moment, Jonah was taken aback.

Rebecca.

No.

She wasn’t his to miss. She hadn’t been for a very long time.

Jonah could have commented on Sumner’s lack of tact—not to mention her impudence. But he answered honestly.

“No. I’m here for the long haul.”

The words held grim finality when spoken aloud, but he couldn’t take them back. It was the truth. Rebecca, his former fiancée, had found a new man to share her life with. One who was free from unsightly scars. One whose body wouldn’t betray him one day, as Jonah’s was bound to do.

Sumner sighed and said, “Be that as it may, Mr. Ramsey—”

“Jonah.”

She grimaced. “Jonah. The women will still need their belongings.”

He couldn’t prevent a short bark of laughter. “And what’s so important that I should risk the lives of my men on unstable packs of snow less than a day after we’ve already suffered one avalanche?”

She lowered her mug, and he couldn’t account for the way it pleased him when he found that it was empty.