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The older man tugged at the ends of his heavily waxed handlebar mustache. “Why should I hire you, Miss Sinclair? Having a woman around is sure to stir up trouble.”
“Because I can do the job and do it well. Here. Let me show you.” She reached for the drawing case she’d propped against her chair, unfastened the buckle and withdrew the contents, which she held out to Corby. “I believe my work will speak for itself.”
Corby’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’re rather presumptuous, young lady.”
Flynt fought the urge to intervene. He wouldn’t do that for a man, so he couldn’t do that for her. If Jessie was to work here, she’d have to learn to deal with Corby’s brashness.
Jessie lifted her chin and leveled her gaze at Corby, her green eyes flashing. “You haven’t even looked at my drawings, sir, and yet it appears you’ve made up your mind to find fault with me simply because I’m a woman. I’d like to think you’ll give me the same consideration you would any other prospective employee.”
“All right. Show me.” Corby pointed to the rectangular conference table along the far wall of his office.
The forthright woman marched to the table and spread the stack of drawings on the tabletop, holding them down to keep them from curling. Corby stood beside her, his focus on the topmost sheet. Although he wasn’t an engineer, he did have some drafting experience. Hopefully enough to know what he was looking at. Even if he couldn’t follow the math, he could judge the quality of the drawings.
Flynt leaned back against the table with his arms and ankles crossed, watching the proceedings with interest. He’d learned about Jessie during an unexpected encounter with Bishop. Impressed by the drawings his friend had sent up prior to the interview, Flynt had sung her praises to Corby. He could do no more. Please, Lord, let her overcome Corby’s objections.
Any designing draftsman would do, but Flynt wanted Jessie. He hadn’t felt so strongly about a potential employee before, but he needed someone with her skills. Plus, Corby’s unfounded prejudice against her grated on Flynt. She deserved the opportunity to prove herself worthy of the position.
Although her work was exceptional, his desire to hire her was reinforced by his growing respect for the bright woman with a backbone of steel. It had nothing to do with her arresting good looks or her radiant smile. Nothing at all.
* * *
Only by tapping into her self-control was Jessie able to resist the urge to increase the distance between her and Mr. Corbin. The man’s overbearing manner rankled. What was worse was the scent of tobacco smoke that clung to him, bringing back memories of her days singing at the High Stakes Saloon.
No. She wouldn’t think about the past. She had a promising future, provided she secured this position at the El Dorado Water and Deep Gravel Mining Company. When her previous drafting job at a small irrigation company had come to an end, she’d set her sights on getting a more prestigious one. If that meant enduring yet another man’s scrutiny and proving herself capable in his eyes, so be it. She’d done it before, and she could do it again. “Are you finished with this one, sir? I do have three more drawings for you to look at.”
Mr. Corbin cleared his throat. “I’ll let you know when I’ve seen enough.”
She caught Flynt’s eye. He winked. At her. Not in a flirtatious manner, but all the same, his encouraging gesture surprised her. She preferred to keep things with her colleagues professional. Never would she let a man guess she was anything but a proper lady.
Which she was. Although she’d spent two years as a singer in Ace’s establishment, she wasn’t like the other girls. Miss Maggie might have taught her how to flirt, a lesson she’d learned well, but when Ace offered her the position, she’d made him promise that no man would be permitted to lay a hand on her. And none had. Not even Ace.
“Show me the next one,” Mr. Corbin barked.
“Certainly, sir.” She flipped to the second of the four drawings.
With the prickly manager occupied and Flynt, who stood beside him, focused on her work, as well, she was free to cast sidelong glances at the intriguing engineer. What an arresting profile he had, with his broad forehead and chiseled jawline.
A thick lock of his copper-colored hair had fallen across his forehead. She rarely encountered a red-haired man, although she was partial to the color. Others had teased her about her auburn tresses, but she counted them a blessing. After all, her red hair was what had kept her from going hungry.
That and her green eyes. Men did like looking into them. Flynt had. If he knew he’d been staring at her, wide-eyed, when he’d first seen her, he would probably cringe. For some reason, knowing he’d been enthralled tickled her.
While she didn’t set out to use her physical appearance to her advantage, a woman did enjoy appreciative glances. The Lord deserved all the credit as her Creator, but she got to enjoy the admiration His handiwork brought about.
Jessie’s shoulders were protesting by the time Mr. Corbin completed his examination. She heaved a grateful sigh, put the drawings back in her case and returned to the utilitarian bentwood chair she’d occupied earlier.
The portly man plopped into his large leather wingback chair, reached for a cigar lying on his desk and passed it under his nose, inhaling audibly. He’d spent the last five minutes doing nothing but grunting every now and then. If he didn’t say something soon, she’d—
“So, what do you think, Corby?” Flynt, seated beside her once again, leaned forward. “Her work is exceptional, isn’t it?”
She hadn’t expected Flynt to be so supportive, but he was acting as her advocate. And what had she done? Made a fool of herself, that was what. She’d come right out and accused him of feeling threatened by her, which clearly he wasn’t. At least she’d realized her mistake promptly. In a gentlemanly fashion, he’d accepted her apology and seemed to harbor her no ill will.
“What do I think?” Mr. Corbin’s question jolted her back to the present. “I’ve seen enough to warrant a trial.” He shifted his focus from Flynt to her. “I’d like you to complete a drawing for us, Miss Sinclair. I want to see what you can do when the pressure’s on.”
“That’s understandable. I’ll do whatever you’d like.”
The skeptical manager pinned her with an intense gaze. “I’m willing to let you finish the interview process since Flynt has vouched for you, but I believe having a woman working here could invite trouble. What do you think the men will do when you walk in there?” He inclined his head toward a large drafting room visible through the office’s side window. “They’ll take their eyes off their boards and clap them on you, that’s what.”
She pasted on her most reassuring smile. “You needn’t concern yourself with that. I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with men’s stares and attitudes.” More than he could possibly imagine. “I can handle myself.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s the deadlines we have to meet. The directors want to see progress. I can’t afford any slowdowns.”
Flynt intervened once again. “You’re right, Corby. Having a woman on the team will change things, but change can bring about improvements.”
While she appreciated Flynt’s support, the man himself was a puzzle. One minute he addressed her as a business associate, and the next his gaze roved over her with what she could only describe as attraction. Or was it simply admiration? Yes, that must be it.
Silence hung in the air until Flynt broke it. “My men are likely to work harder to impress Jessie.”
Corby scoffed. “I reckon the fellows will be more interested in her than they are in their work. Mark my words. They’ll produce fewer drawings because of her. Not more.” He shifted his attention to Jessie. “Why did you become a draftsman—draftswoman, anyhow? It’s not...normal.”
She’d fielded that question more times than she could count. “Few men are willing to believe a woman desires to do anything other than bear children, fix meals and wash clothes. But we’re capable of more than that, although few of us are given the opportunity. Be that as it may, I have nothing but respect for the women who’ve chosen marriage and motherhood.”
With her questionable past, she couldn’t aspire to either, no matter how much the idea of being loved and loving someone in return appealed to her. “Because I have neither a husband nor children, I’m forced to provide for myself, just as you are. I have an affinity for arithmetic and have found a profession that utilizes my skills. I happen to enjoy it, too.”
Mr. Corbin scowled. “You’re not one of those suffragettes, are you?”
She chose her words carefully. “I don’t stand in protest lines, no, but I am sympathetic to the plight of women. Perhaps one day our voices will be heard. In the meantime, I’m content to do my job to the best of my ability.”
“Good. It sounds like you know your place.”
Jessie bit back a sharp retort. Traditionally minded men such as Mr. Corbin couldn’t be won over with mere words. She needed to show him what she could do. “I’m ready to move on to the next stage of the interview, sir.”
Mr. Corbin shook his head. If Jessie wasn’t mistaken, he was smiling, although with that enormous handlebar mustache hiding his upper lip, she couldn’t be sure. “You’re certainly eager, young lady. I’ll grant you that. Flynt can take you out and get you started on a drawing. He’ll oversee your work, but the final decision is mine.”
Jessie accompanied Flynt to the rectangular drafting room. Four identical drafting tables faced a bank of large windows on the west side of the room. Four heads turned toward her, curiosity evident in each face.
Flynt introduced her to his team, once again the professional engineer. “Gentlemen, this is Miss Jessica Sinclair. She’s going to complete a drawing for me.”
She smiled and nodded a greeting at each of the young men in turn. She received two answering smiles and two frowns.
A sandy-haired fellow at the drafting table farthest from her jumped off his stool and approached. “Welcome, Miss Sinclair. It’s not every day we welcome a fine lady like you into the Den.”
“The Den? Is that what you call your drawing office?”
“Yup. The mine over yonder is called Coon Hollow.” The draftsman, a fence post of a fellow who looked all of nineteen, inclined his head toward the windowless eastern wall. “Since raccoons spend a good part of their year holed up in dens like we do in our office, we fellows dubbed this the Den.”
“Well, I’m honored to be in your Den and am pleased to meet you, Mr....?”
“My name’s Rufus Rawlings, but everyone calls me Trace on account of I do nothing but tracings most of the time. Every now and then Flynt lets me draw something on my own, though.”
As the lone woman in a man’s world, she’d learned long ago to cultivate all the friendships she could. “I spent a year doing the same. Tracings are an essential contribution to any engineering firm. Without them, valuable information could be lost if an original were to get damaged.”
Trace turned to his colleagues with a mile-wide smile on his face. “Did you hear that, fellows? My tracings are ‘essential contributions.’”
The dour draftsman at the table beside Trace’s grumbled. “Just what we need. Trace all puffed up.”
“That’s enough, Arnold.” Flynt returned his attention to Trace. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but those tracings won’t get done if you’re standing here talking.”
“Right, sir. I’ll get to work on my— What were they called again? Oh, yes. My ‘essential contributions.’” He grinned at Jessie and returned to his board.
“Come, Jessie.” Flynt held out a hand toward a magnificent drafting table at the front of the room, set apart from the others. “I’ll get you started.”
She followed, speaking in a low voice. “Trace is certainly enthusiastic, isn’t he?”
“I could give the lad more interesting assignments if he weren’t so slow and meticulous, but he lacks the confidence that comes with experience.” Flynt paused and pulled a sheet of paper from one of the drafting cabinets running down the center of the room.
“And yet you’ve kept him on?”
“I’m all for giving a man an opportunity to prove himself. Or a woman.” He sent her a sidelong glance—and a warm smile that transformed him from simply good-looking to delightfully handsome.
No. She mustn’t allow herself to notice such things. Her success depended on keeping a level head and doing exceptional work. In order to be accepted, she had to perform better and faster than the men in the office. At the same time, she couldn’t say or do anything that could be perceived as a threat to them and their positions. She often felt like she was teetering on a tightrope high above the earth, with her male colleagues below her hoping she would come crashing down.
But Flynt was different. She’d sung for hundreds of men at the High Stakes, and yet none of them had shown her the kindness or consideration he had. If she were looking for a romantic relationship, he was the type of man she’d be drawn to.
Not that she could consider such a thing. A bright, successful engineer would want a proper woman, not someone who’d spent two years in a saloon entertaining a roomful of rowdy men. Even though she’d been modestly dressed and had never spent time alone with a single High Stakes customer, she bore the stain of her past. She’d seen how the women at her church back East had flocked together, their feathers ruffled, when the minister’s wife had invited her to attend services.
But the Lord had accepted her and provided a way for her to leave that life behind. And here she was, a respectable woman with a rewarding profession.
Provided no one learned her shameful secret.
Chapter Two (#ulink_5a1b3c3c-a68c-53e2-b84c-9a110f47d5fc)
In no time, Flynt had a sheet of drafting paper adhered to his board. In order for Jessie to convince Corby she was the right person for the job, she would need to handle a challenging assignment. He had one in mind.
“Before you begin, I want to give you an overview of the project.” He gestured with one hand. “After you.”
She covered the distance quickly and faced the back wall, studying the twenty-foot-long drawing of the canal stretched across its surface and looking...enraptured. That was the only word he could think of to describe the wide-eyed wonder on her lovely face. She turned toward him, her eyes alight. “This is magnificent! The Weber Creek Ditch I worked on was just six miles long, but if I read things correctly, the El Dorado Canal is going to be over thirty, with a good four miles of wooden flumes.”
“That’s right.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Why are you smiling?”
Was he? He schooled his features. “You really do enjoy the work, don’t you?”
“Very much.” She straightened to her full height, bringing the top of her head level with his shoulder. With her standing so close, he could imagine taking her in his arms, gazing into her sparkling green eyes and lowering his face until his lips brushed—
What was he doing harboring such thoughts? He had no intention of courting anyone, especially a potential colleague. Women couldn’t be trusted. His mother, a successful madam who’d abandoned him at the age of seven, and Ma Hagerty, who’d taken him in and promptly broken her promise to treat him like her own son, had taught him that.
Jessie assumed a businesslike tone. “If I’m to overcome Mr. Corbin’s objections, I should get to work on that drawing. What do you have in mind?”
While he admired Miss Jessica Sinclair, professional draftswoman, with her forthright manner, he’d enjoyed a glimpse of the gleeful girl inside her. “I’d like you to do a preliminary drawing of the next section.”
Moments later he stood at his drafting board with Jessie at his side studying the surveyor’s notes he’d handed her. “I understand what I’m to do, so I can get started.”
“Very well.” He opened the cabinet beneath his board, where he kept his rulers, compasses, drawing pens and such. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”
She blinked several times, once again drawing his attention to her long lashes and those gorgeous green eyes. He had to force himself not to stare.
“That’s an impressive collection. While I appreciate your offer, I have my own tools, which I left with the clerk in the lobby. I’ll get them.” She took two steps and stopped. “I’d like to wash my hands before I begin so I don’t soil my drawing. Where might I do that?”
“There’s a small closet with a washstand opposite Corby’s office. You’ll find plenty of pegs for hats and coats. Feel free to claim one of the empty shelves for your lunch pail, drawing case and anything else you brought.”
“Very good. I’ll be back shortly.”
No sooner had Jessie left the room than two of Flynt’s draftsmen descended on him. The ever-exuberant Trace reached him first. “Is she going to be working with us?”
“Could be. We’ll know soon enough.”
“Whoo whee! Won’t that be fun?”
“No!” Kurt, who sat at the board nearest Flynt’s, joined them. Could the young man’s scowl be any more pronounced? “We don’t need a dame here.”
Flynt bit back a rebuke. “Miss Sinclair is a lady, and we’ll treat her accordingly.”
“Fine,” Kurt muttered. “If you want to hire a woman, that’s your business, but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, but I don’t want to hear any disparaging terms. Now, how about returning to your stations, gentlemen? You have work to do.”
Kurt trudged back to his board. His outburst was understandable. He’d worked hard to establish himself as the lead draftsman. To have his position threatened by another man would be tough, but having the threat come from a woman could be even harder to take.
Trace leaned close and lowered his voice. “You don’t have to worry on my account, sir. I think she’s nice.”
Jessie returned a short time later looking rather, well, cute. She’d removed her hat, revealing her full head of striking auburn hair, and donned a black apron and matching sleeve protectors. Since she couldn’t work in rolled-up shirtsleeves as he and his men did, her precautions made sense. Through the years he’d ended up with a number of India-ink stains on his clothing.
She wound his stool up to the proper height for her and hopped onto the padded leather seat. The rungs weren’t in the right place for her to rest her feet comfortably, and yet she didn’t complain. She just got to work performing her initial calculations on a sheet of scrap paper.
He plunked a spare stool beside his board, close enough to see everything, but far enough away so as not to crowd her. Since she was using his drafting table, he couldn’t work on a drawing. Not that he minded this opportunity to study her. She was a sight to behold.
She reached for a ruler in her tool case on the small side table and paused. “Are you going to sit there the entire time?”
“I’d planned to. Why? Does that bother you?”
“A little, perhaps, but I can deal with it.”
He appreciated her honesty. “I can tell a lot from looking at a drawing, but I can’t evaluate the effectiveness of a person’s methods unless I watch him or her work.” Based on what he’d seen so far, Jessie was accurate, thorough and exacting, the very traits he sought.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to ignore you as best I can.” She gave him a saucy smile.
He grabbed a sketch pad and pencil and doodled, a longtime habit of his. Although plenty of work awaited him, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, not with Jessie close by smelling like— What was it exactly? He inhaled deeply. Lilac. No wonder thoughts of spring had come to mind when he’d first met her.
