A Mail-Order Heart (Miners to Millionaires Book 1) by Janelle Daniels

Author:Janelle Daniels [Daniels, Janelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dream Cache Publishing
Published: 2016-04-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Clara glanced skeptically at the river before turning back to Sawyer. "I thought you were going to teach me how to mine."

"Baby steps. Before we teach you to run, let's teach you to crawl." He grinned devilishly. "You'll want to tie up your skirts."

"You're kidding." She eyed the muddy riverbank. Not that she was afraid to get a little dirty, but tying up her skirts was not appropriate in mixed company. Oh, who was she kidding? It was never appropriate.

He loosely folded his arms. "You'll have to unless you want your dress ruined. You're going to need to bend over the river to rinse the soil. You can't pan for gold without water."

Clara chewed her lip. Panning was a legitimate way of finding gold. She could even find some her first time around. But tying up her skirts?

She glanced at Sawyer and the merriment crinkling his eyes. The scoundrel! He knew she was struggling with her modesty.

Well—her chin notched up—if he was enjoying her discomfort, it was high time she made him uncomfortable too. Attraction had been simmering between them for far too long, and honestly, it was making her edgy. Perhaps torturing him would give her a little relief.

Holding up her skirts, she pushed them between her legs, dividing the fabric before crossing the yards of material back in front of her and tying the two sections into a solid knot. Something worthwhile had come out of climbing trees with her siblings. The shock on Sawyer’s face as he stared at her stocking-clad legs made enduring all of her mother's lectures about the inappropriateness of climbing trees worth it.

She arched a brow at him. "Something the matter?"

He cleared his throat and brought his eyes up to hers. She grinned at the difficulty he seemed to have masking his emotions.

"No." He shook his head before grabbing a pan. "You just surprised me."

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't have expected a lady like you from the east to be able to manage that as quickly as you did."

"I'm not a lady." And that was the sorry truth. She wasn't refined, delicate. She'd worked her whole life, had scrimped and saved and went hungry to help her family. She would be working her fingers raw in a factory now if it wasn't for Ivan's advertisement. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked at the clear, flowing water at her feet.

"You are to me."

He hadn't moved before saying those words. He hadn't reach out his hand. But even though he wasn't physically touching her, those small little words felt like a caress. "Dressed like this?" No lady would be caught dead with her skirts up.

Her eyes met his as he nodded. "It doesn't matter what you're wearing, Clara. You're a lady. You're gentle, kind. You look out for others, and you try to do the right thing. That makes you a lady in my book more than wearing a fancy get up and lifting your nose while quoting French poetry."

She could see it in his eye. He meant it.

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