the sides, twelve feet. All the notches were a foot from each end. Since the logs weren’t the same diameter, Nate and Shakespeare alternated those with slightly thicker ends. That way the walls were even.
Lifting the heavy logs went smoothly until the walls were about chest high. Then they had to resort to skids; smaller logs were braced against each wall, and the cabin logs were rolled up into position. When the walls were head high, they used ropes and the skids.
A fireplace was a necessity. Without it, the Worths would be hard-pressed to survive the bitterly harsh mountain winters. Accordingly, Nate cut slits in one of the upper logs on the wall where the fireplace would go so that when the cabin was done they could insert a saw and make an opening for the fireplace stones.
The roof logs were the longest of all, to allow for an overhang. Getting them up took coordinated effort, and once they were high enough they had to be carefully slid into place. It was a slow process, which was why the roof alone took four days to complete.
Nate and Shakespeare had also left slits in the walls for the door and the window. They cut the door opening down to the ground, and Emala mentioned that she would like it a bit wider.
“May I ask why?” Nate asked.
Emala put her hands on her wide hips and answered, “So I don’t get stuck. I’d rather not have to go in and out of my own house sideways.”
“I don’t blame you, madam,” Shakespeare said.
“It is a trial being plump,” Emala informed them.
Shakespeare grinned and gave a courtly bow and winked. “But you jiggle so nicely.”
“Why, Mr. McNair!” Emala exclaimed, and laughed heartily.
They made the window a foot and a half across, and Emala remarked that she would like it wider, too.
“I don’t advise that,” Nate said.
“I am a big woman,” Emala responded. “I’d like to have a window that all of me can stand in front of.”
“The wider it is, the more cold air it will let in,” Nate warned her. “Curtains and shutters won’t help much when it’s cold enough to freeze your breath.”
“I hope to get glass like Winona and you have.”
“Glass lets in the cold, too. Didn’t you notice that our windows are the same size as the windows I am making you?”
Emala reluctantly settled for a small window.
Every day they stopped work at noon to eat and rest. The women cooked food, coffee and tea were brewed, and everyone sat around talking and joking and having a friendly time.
It was during a noon break one day that Randa got up and strolled off with her hands clasped behind her slender back, admiring the splendid scenery. She loved the sweep of the high mountains. She loved the colors of the vegetation that covered the valley floor. She loved the lake with all the waterfowl cavorting about. In short, she loved everything about their new home.
Randa’s ambling brought her to the gully. She was standing watching a bald eagle soar high in the sky when Zach King came out of the trees with his rifle over his shoulder, carrying a rabbit. She remembered him going off earlier and had wondered where he got to. “More food for the pot?” She hadn’t heard a shot.
Zach nodded.
Randa had noticed he didn’t talk much. He wasn’t always gabbing like Chickory did. She liked that. She liked, too, how handsome he was. Not that she would ever let him know, him being married and all. “How is Louisa doin’?”
Zach stopped. “Fine,” he said. “She gets a little sick in the mornings, but she is eating like a horse.”
Randa grinned and said, “You shouldn’t ought to talk about your missus that way.”
“It’s the truth,” Zach said. “I can barely keep enough food in the pantry, she eats so much.”
“I hear ladies do that,” Randa admitted.
Zach stared at her waist.
“Is somethin’ the matter?” Randa asked, uncomfortable under his gaze. “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
“Where are your weapons?”
“Pardon?”
“You don’t even have a knife.”
“I do so have one, but I took it off to work,” Randa told him.
“No gun?”
“Not yet. My pa says he’s fixin’ to get me one just as soon as he can afford to,” Randa revealed.
“Come over to our cabin later,” Zach said. “I have a spare pistol you can have.”
“I couldn’t.” Randa’s mother had warned her about accepting gifts even from people she knew and liked.
“I wasn’t asking. You can’t traipse around out here unarmed, woman. You’re asking to be torn to bits or have your throat slit.”
Randa felt an odd sort of tingle when he called her “woman.” “It can’t be as bad as all that.”
“It’s worse.” Zach came closer. “Hasn’t my pa or Shakespeare talked to you? Don’t be fooled. It’s peaceful at the moment, but the peace never lasts. As surely as you’re standing there, sooner or later something or someone will try to kill you.”
“Happens to you a lot, does it?” Randa teased.
A shadow seemed to pass over Zach’s face. “Sometimes it seems as if it happens every time I turn around.”
Randa made bold to ask, “My pa says you’ve killed a lot of folks. Is that true? Are you a killer?”
“It’s not anything I like to talk about.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Randa said quickly, and walked away along the gully rim, intending to go around and into the woods. To her surprise, Zach fell into step beside her.
“Where are you going?”
“Just walkin’.”
“I’ll go with you. You shouldn’t go anywhere unarmed.”
“There’s really no need,” Randa said. “Everyone is right over yonder. All I need to do is yell and they’ll come on the run.”
“By the time they got here a bear could rip your head off or tear open your belly.”
“You sure think of nice things.”
“I think of real things.”
Randa puckered her mouth in displeasure. “You’re only sayin’ that to scare me.”
“No, I’m saying it because it’s true.” Zach touched her arm and she stopped. “Listen to me, Randa, and listen good. If not for your sake then for your family’s.” He gestured, encompassing the entire valley. “Life here isn’t like what you are used to. This isn’t like back East. You can’t take it for granted that you’ll get through the day without something or someone trying to make worm food of you. Always stay alert. Every minute. Every second. The time you don’t is the time you die.”
Randa still didn’t think it could be as bad as he was saying, but she kept her peace. “I’m grateful for the advice.”
Zach drew his Bowie and held it so the blade glistened in the sun. “Out here life is like this knife.”
“How is that?”
“Beautiful but with a razor’s edge. It can take your life as fast as you can blink.”
Randa had never thought of a knife as beautiful. “You have a nice way with words.”
Frowning, Zach slid the Bowie into its sheath. “If I do, it is news to me. But I hope I’ve made my point. I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”
“You would?”
“Of course. You and your family are our friends. We are—” Zach stopped and his eyes darted toward the gully. “Did you see that?”
“What?” Randa looked but saw only the rocks and boulders that lined the gully’s rim.
“I thought I saw a snake.” Zach stuck the tail of the dead rabbit under his belt. He leveled his rifle and thumbed back the hammer and went over, stepping carefully.
