Chapter 1
P2 They mocked the 280-pound kitchen woman until her employer slapped her and ordered her into a −20°F blizzard t1
PART 2 — THE WOMAN THE MOUNTAIN MAN CHOSE
But Jedodiah Boon did not look at Matilda with disgust.
His pale blue eyes remained fixed on her face, steady and strangely thoughtful, as though he were searching for something beneath the fear she had learned to wear like a second skin.
Matilda waited for the insult.
It never came.
Instead, Jedodiah slowly lifted the bowl of stew.
“This,” he said, his deep voice carrying to every corner of the room, “is the finest meal I've eaten in fifteen years.”
Matilda blinked.
For one heartbeat, nobody moved.
Then a miner near the bar barked out a laugh.
“Lord Almighty, Boon. Guess living with wolves has ruined your taste.”
Several men chuckled.
Another called, “Careful complimenting her! She might think you're courting!”
The laughter grew louder.
Matilda's cheeks burned.
She lowered her eyes automatically.
Jedodiah didn't.
His gaze moved across the room.
One by one, the men stopped laughing.
“I wasn't joking,” he said.
Silence returned.
Abigail Thatcher forced an uncomfortable smile.
“Well, Matilda has her uses.”
Jedodiah looked at her.
“Her uses?”
Abigail shifted beneath his stare.
“She cooks. Cleans. Carries water. Ordinary work.”
Matilda's fingers tightened around her apron.
Ordinary.
Fourteen hours every day.
Three dollars a month when Abigail remembered to pay her.
A narrow cot beside sacks of flour.
Leftovers after everyone else had eaten.
Ordinary.
“Back to the kitchen,” Abigail snapped.
Matilda turned.
“Wait.”
Jedodiah reached inside his bearskin coat and produced a silver dollar.
He placed it on the table.
“For the cook.”
Abigail's eyes widened.
Her hand immediately moved toward it.
Jedodiah placed two enormous fingers over the coin.
“I said the cook.”
Abigail froze.
Matilda stared at the silver.
It was more money than she sometimes saw in weeks.
She approached cautiously.
“For me?”
“You made the food.”
Matilda reached for it.
The instant her fingers touched the coin, Abigail struck her.
The slap echoed through the room.
Matilda staggered sideways.
Her cheek burned.
For several seconds, she seemed more shocked than hurt.
Abigail stood trembling with rage.
“You ungrateful cow!”
Nobody laughed now.
“You take money from my customers behind my back?”
“He gave it to me,” Matilda whispered.
“And everything earned beneath my roof belongs to me!”
Abigail grabbed the front of Matilda's apron and tore it loose.