For Love

Chapter 1

"The truth? It was the closest place to the saloon."

She threw him an exasperated look and pulled her blonde curls over one shoulder to tuck them behind her ear. One side of Jason's smile grew. "And how was that an excellent idea?"

"Building something like this," he said, waving his hand toward the dormitory. "Men get thirsty."

"Hmm."

He straightened a little. "Well, and you, with the other brides, were more likely to be watched out for."

"I see. Watched by wayward drunks." She twirled a curl with her finger and looked at him through her eyelashes.

Jason's smile disappeared as his voice hit a darker tone. "The only wayward drunks I know about are the mountain men that come into town every year for Rendezvous."

Hannah stepped close enough to put a finger on his lips, tracing them slowly. The tension in Jason's jaw ebbed at her touch, and he thought to kiss her again. She looked pretty with her thick eyelashes, pink cheeks, and swollen lips. With a start, he realized it wasn't the first time he'd taken inventory of her assets.

"Well, I'll pray for your safe return. A woman worries about her man."

Her man? Jason choked on the thought. She couldn't mean it. The realization of the seriousness of the situation squashed his pleasant mood. Another kiss was not a good idea.

"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon." She took a step down and leaned forward to kiss Jason on the cheek. Jason kept his body still while watching Hannah's flirtations with his eyes. When he didn't respond she heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose you really are going."

"Yes, I really am going." Thinking to soften the blow, he added, "Should I bring you something back from Tacoma?"

Hannah's eyes rolled upwards as she thought about it for a moment, followed by a smile that broke him out in a cold sweat. "I like jewelry."

Outwardly, Jason smiled back. Inwardly he wanted to punch himself in the face. "I'll see what I can do," he said, and with a wave marched himself straight into the saloon without looking back.

Once safely inside, he let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The midday rush had already begun, and Lottie flitted between tables serving sandwiches and beer. Jason shook his head and made his way to the bar. After all these years, Lottie still loves what she does. That's the thing, isn't it? To find what you love and hold on to it?

He grabbed a whiskey bottle and poured himself a shot. Once that went down his gullet, he poured himself another.

"Kinda early to be hitting it so hard, don't 'cha think?"

Jason looked over his shoulder at his youngest brother, Jeremy. Their parents had shown a sense of humor, giving their sons names that all began with the letter "J" to honor their father, Jonathon: Jason, Joshua, and Jeremy in said order. Funny how his father had always mixed their names up, but their mother never did.

"Oh, I, ah...," said Jason, fumbling more with his anxiety rather than words. He propped his foot on the bar's footrest with his hand on his hip. "Well, I just came from Hannah."

Jason was taller than Jeremy by several inches, and both of them had brown hair; where Jason's was curly and unruly, Jeremy's hair was straighter than the iron rod spoken of by the reverend on Sundays. Their personalities were just as different in disposition though they, along with Joshua, shared one Bolt trait that others found disconcerting: sharp blue eyes that could pierce a person's soul. Which was exactly how Jeremy looked at him now.