The Minx Miner by Janelle Daniels

Author:Janelle Daniels [Daniels, Janelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dream Cache Publishing
Published: 2019-06-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The moment they returned from their disastrous trip to town, Gemma was certain of one thing—it was time to move on. She couldn’t stay in town, with how the men had reacted. It would never be safe. And she was finished with wanting Logan.

She’d been right this whole time. He wasn’t for her, and she’d been a fool to forget that for even a moment.

She walked in the house and headed straight for Alison. As agreed, Gemma was hired to work in the house.

It wasn’t ideal—she wasn’t really suited for anything they needed done—but it was a start. She would work at Logan’s estate, get her feet under her, and then move on. She was strong and young, and she would learn.

She just wished she’d realized this was how it was all going to turn out before she’d come. If there was a way to go back to her time… But that wasn’t an option now, and it did no good for her to dwell on the past.

She’d finally figured out how to do laundry, so that’s what she did first. She’d been working since sunrise, and her hands and forearms were red with irritation from the caustic soap.

But she’d done it.

She’d washed everything she’d been given and was doing it well. She needed to dust next and then polish the entry, but compared to laundry, that almost seemed like a vacation.

She was armed with cleaning supplies and had already completed half of the room when a knock sounded at the door. She looked around, unsure if she should answer it or not. Who was in charge of that?

Finally, when the second knock sounded, she put down her rag, rubbed her hands on the work apron she wore over one of Alison’s older work dresses and answered the door—to her nightmare.

“Miss Watts, is that you?” Eliza Pollard asked, trying to sound unsure, but Gemma could see the gleam in the vicious woman’s eyes.

“It is. If you’d like to step into the parlor, I can let Mrs. Walburn know you’re here.”

The woman stepped into the house like she already owned it, her lilac gown exquisitely bedecked in bows and ruffles. She waved her hand. “Oh, I’m not here to see Mrs. Walburn. I’m here to see Logan—Mr. Walburn,” she stressed as if she’d accidentally slipped and used his first name.

Gemma grabbed a handful of her skirt, worried she’d pummel the snotty girl. “Then please make yourself comfortable, and I’ll have someone fetch him for you.”

She turned to leave, but Eliza called out, “Be a dear and bring tea. I have a feeling I’ll be here for some time. Oh, and tell the cook not to send any of those jam cookies from last time.” She scoffed. “Honestly, with how much money they have, they should fire the cook and get a new one.”

Gemma was done. She didn’t curtsy, didn’t say anything more, she just left. If Logan and Alison wanted to fire her over it, she didn’t care. She might be working for them, but she wasn’t a servant, and she refused to be treated like dirt.

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