The Lumberjack by Kelli Ann Morgan

Author:Kelli Ann Morgan [Morgan, Kelli Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939049551
Publisher: Inspire Books
Published: 2019-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Eli wanted to be up before the cock crowed. He sat up and, to avoid nestling back down into the warm comfort of the bed, pulled back the blankets to the newly chilled morning and placed his feet on the cool hard-wood floor. Only a pinch of light spilled into the room, but with the curtains pulled back, he could see light starting to peek over the hillside.

He was pleased to find a basin and a pitcher of water waiting for him at the edge of the room. A small pair of scissors, a razor, and a comb had been laid out nicely on the wood, with a few folded towels waiting on the shelf behind him. He glanced into the mirror and turned his head from one side to the other, raising his chin to see the extent of his beard.

With the scissors in one hand and the comb in another, he trimmed up the straggly hairs until the beard extended just past his chin. That would have to do for now. He didn’t know if he was ready to lose it completely. Not just yet anyway.

Jonah turned over onto his side.

“Why in heaven’s name are you awake already?” he asked, one eye open. “Not even the birds are up yet.” He grabbed the pillow from beneath his head and clamped it over his ears.

Eli quickly donned a freshly laundered pair of denims and one of the four work shirts he’d brought with him on the trip—the one with dark gray stripes. Then, he grabbed his socks, boots, and hat and gingerly opened the door to sneak downstairs. He groaned when one of the steps protested his weight. It was loud enough to wake the whole house.

As he reached the bottom step, the Redbourne family cook, Lottie, rounded the corner. She jumped back, nearly dropping the large flour sack she carried and muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

“Goodness, Mr. Eli. You startled me. What are you doing up so early this morning?”

Eli placed his things on the landing. “May I?” he asked, taking the heavy sack from Lottie’s arms.

“Gracias,” she said with an accent he hadn’t heard before.

“That means, thank you, right?” he guessed. There were several Spanish-speaking lumberjacks with whom he’d worked over the years, but not closely enough to have any real understanding of the language.

“Yes. That’s very good,” she encouraged.

Though not really note-worthy, he stuck out his chest a little further as he carried the supplies into the kitchen.

“Since you are already awake, would you go out to the meat-house and cut me off ten links of sausage?” the short, Spanish woman asked as she went about her morning work.

“Of course,” he said automatically, without thinking.

He had no idea where the meat house was or how to get in, but he strode back to the stairs, biting back the curse that rested just off his tongue when he kicked the base of the couch, sending a jolt of pain through his foot. With a deep breath, he hobbled over to the staircase and sat down, inspecting the injured toe.

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