O'Rourke's Bride by Barbara Dan

Author:Barbara Dan [Dan, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-05-18T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen: Dangerous Games

Increased familiarity quickly heightened Katherine's—and Peter's—senses to the flash point. It got so nerve wracking that Peter was grateful for the grueling work all day long, for it gave him a much needed respite from his wife, who could hardly wait to get her dainty hands on him each evening. Intent upon her peculiar brand of revenge, Katherine became proficient at whipping through a stack of dinner dishes in record time. Most nights, by the time he left the office and staggered through their cabin door, she was already in her nightgown, brushing her long auburn hair.

Peter was almost tempted to burn the midnight oil over her father's crooked set of books. However, morning reveille came before dawn. Besides, when had he ever run from temptation?

His sixth day out in the woods, Jigger trusted Peter enough to assign him to the crew that felled trees. Around ten o'clock Peter was sent aloft to top a three hundred foot ponderosa. A "big blue," it was called, because its girth at the ground was enormous, yet it tapered like a giant candle to less than a foot in diameter at the top.

As O'Rourke sank his cleats deep into the bark and shinnied skyward in the crisp mountain air, he had second thoughts about a lot of things. Considering his foreman's ability to dish out physical punishment, he wasn't all that sure Jigger didn't mean for a high wind to send him toppling to his death. Two hundred feet up, the big blue bent and swayed fifteen feet in any direction under his weight.

"A little higher, Casey," Burns shouted from below.

Clenching his teeth till he thought his jaw would break, O'Rourke inched upward. Seven men stood around the base of the tree, urging him on. Watching him test his mettle as a fledgling logger.

Peter knew Jigger held his crews' respect by his constant show of tough, unflappable nerve and his ability to make critical decisions under pressure. This was, in a way, his own initiation, his hazing. He couldn't back down. Anyway, up this high, a few feet higher didn't make a helluva lot of difference. His blood pumping, O'Rourke renewed his vigorous climb upward.

The pine groaned and creaked, and still he moved up the tree. Fifty feet higher... then sixty. Only thirty more to the peak, by God! And all the while the tree bowed like some second rate diplomat at his first state function.

"Hey, far 'nuff, Casey!" Mel yelled. "Get a good toe-hold."

"Ai-yup, sink those cleats in good," Isaac Yancey shouted.

Peter secured his position. He tightened the rigging around his waist and stomped his cleats deep into the bark. Then he freed the saw looped on the back of his belt and waved it, testing the leather straps to make sure they bore his weight. Relieved when they held, he notched the tree enough to set the saw teeth. Shoulders and arms flexing, he went at it with all the strength he could muster.

Fortunately the tree sap had already begun to recede with the cooler weather.

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