Tall, Dark, and Determined (23 page)

“I'm giving it all three.” Cora sighed. Then, because everyone seemed to understand how much she'd been holding inside, she murmured, “But as time goes, so does my patience!”

If Cora's patience wore thin, Lacey imagined hers reached the breaking point last night. When everyone hired Dunstan against her wishes, she'd lost the last support shoring up her meager supply. Whatever patience Lacey possessed, it had been strained by cougars, kidnappings, and curmudgeonly brothers insisting she couldn't run Hope Falls.

It didn't help matters that the cougars and kidnappings made Braden's doubts seem somewhat realistic. Nor did an apology from the man responsible for provoking the criminal who kidnapped her do much good. All Granger's speech managed was to take away her righteous indignation, leaving behind all the worry and fear to churn her stomach into a mighty mess.

Worry and fear made short work of patience, after all.
Maybe that's why Mr. Dunstan claimed I lacked virtues? Then again, there are plenty of other virtues I lack. What did he mean?
Slapping him for his insult hadn't made her feel better. If anything, it added guilt to the unpleasant mix of her emotions since he'd protected her from Decoy's defense attempt.

So here she stood, plenty of guilt and worry and supposedly no virtues to soak any of it up. Lacey sighed at the hopelessness of it. Then she got to work on not being helpless against it. After all, just because Mr. Dunstan thought her incapable of loftier traits, that didn't make him right!

“Thank you, Mr. Granger.” She tried to summon a smile, failed, and settled for a nod. “I, for one, appreciate how difficult it is to apologize for something. Especially”—now a rueful smile touched her lips—”when you were doing what you believed best. Intentions, we all hope, count for something.”

I hope they do
. She tucked a hand into her pocket and began worrying the fabric between her fingertips.
No matter how often
I hear about God's great mercy, I don't manage to convince myself it really outweighs His sense of justice. If we “reap as we sow,” then that advertisement for husbands will see myself and Naomi saddled with unacceptable mates for the rest of our lives … and it would be my fault! My only hope is that God takes my good intentions into account when He decides our futures
.

“Gracious of you, Miss Lyman.” If he sounded surprised, Lacey didn't blame him. Jacob Granger, intelligent enough to see the error of his decisions, knew how much they'd cost her.

“Thank you, Lacey!” Evie enveloped her in a warm hug that said what she couldn't in front of Granger. By accepting Evie's fiancé's apology, Lacey began making amends for her outbursts.

In turn, her friend was willing to put aside the argument from this morning. The breach between them began mending, and the hug said it all. The tumult in Lacey's stomach calmed, their unspoken reconciliation giving her some much-needed peace.

“We had good intentions when we agreed to hire Mr. Dunstan,” Naomi ventured then seemed to hold her breath.

“As had I when I didn't wish to.” Lacey thought it would be safe to speak her mind now. She'd had enough time to think and let the hurt ebb so she wouldn't make things worse. “It wasn't just the decision or even Mr. Dunstan himself that had me so overset. If we don't stand strong together, Braden will have the ammunition he needs to take back control of Hope Falls.”

“We know. It shouldn't have happened that way.” Cora shared glances with the others. “But you were hurt and angry, and it looked as though you and Mr. Dunstan got off on the wrong foot.”

Naomi laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Forgive us for thinking that, after the past few days, your snap judgment might not be the best basis for such an important decision.”

“Dunstan doesn't spend much time around other people, much less around women.” Granger's observation reinforced what his friend had told her. “Since I'll be taking Twyler back East, I jumped at the chance to have someone I trust watch over you. He's short on conversation, but long on loyalty and ability.”

He's right about the short on conversation part. As for any abilities, I've only seen Dunstan display a knack for insults. Maybe he'll improve on further acquaintance. Or maybe I'll improve at avoiding the opportunity to further our acquaintance?

“What's done is done.” Lacey didn't want to be angry anymore. Her temper wouldn't change their minds or make Dunstan leave. From here on out, she was stuck with their decision … and his presence. “I'll find a way to make it work.”
Somehow
.

Chase couldn't believe it worked, but could only be grateful his hunch to visit that particular stretch of the river paid off.

Thank You, Lord! You provided me the means to prove my skill and at the same time a way to pacify whatever lumbermen go against the idea of me filling in for Granger. You are good!

Even when he was undeserving. Chase paused in the act of dressing his kills. Since Lacey Lyman thanked him for keeping Decoy in line, she'd not uttered a single word. Not while he walked her back to town. Not when he turned and went back into the forest to continue the hunting she'd interrupted.

Silence didn't sit well on her. Or maybe her silence after she slapped him—deservedly—didn't sit well with him. If he knew more about women, he'd be able to tell whether his actions with Decoy equaled an apology or some sort of truce. But he didn't. As far as he knew, she'd bypassed insulted and become wrathful.

The tricky thing
, he mused as he tied his day's catch,
is that she didn't look angry. More … thoughtful. But what was she thinking about to make her abandon her plans to tell me off?
That's what made him uncomfortable. He'd set out to anger her, alienate her to the point she avoided him.
Did I succeed?

He lifted his prize off the ground and headed back to town in evening's waning light. The closer Chase drew toward Hope Falls, the more restless he grew. Towns always made him restless, but this time felt different. And it was
her
fault.

Why couldn't she stalk off with her nose in the air again?
That sort of thing a man could read clear as day. No questions, no qualms about whether or not he'd angered her properly. Instead the confounded woman turned around and
thanked
him for stopping his dog from mauling her when she had every right to defend her honor. Then she walked back to town with an air of …

Of what?
The puzzle pricked his curiosity and his conscience until Chase finally admitted what Miss Lyman's mien reminded him of. She'd walked away with the dejection of an old moose, used to coming out on top, who'd finally lost the match to a younger bull.
She's just more … feminine about it
.

Which explained his unsettled gut. He'd meant to drive the woman away, not drive her into the ground. Chase groaned. Now that he knew what he'd done, he'd have to undo it.
Somehow
.

He didn't have time to figure out how before the forest's calm shattered. Chase kept walking, slowing his pace as he watched the Hope Falls workers. These were the men he'd been hired to keep in line. These were the men he'd need to impress tonight to build on his reputation as a force not to be crossed.

Everyone trickled toward town, sunset signaling suppertime for the lumbermen. Most boasted the woodsman's build: tall and muscular, their movements abrupt. By and large, axmen took their steps the same way they swung their axes, powerful and controlled. This helped balance out their top-heavy frames when going over uneven terrain. Chase could tell a lot about a man by the way he moved, and this sort of gait came from experience. Their jobs kept them in areas littered with debris, where a warning gave mere seconds to spring out of danger's path.

Lumberjacks couldn't afford long steps. But what their strides reserved in distance, they expended in sheer noise. The men descending on Hope Falls, with their heavy-bottomed boots and thudding steps, sounded like a herd of mountain goats. Or they would, if they stopped babbling for longer than a minute.

“Wonder what's for dinner tonight?” someone boomed.

“Doesn't matter,” another grunted back. “It'll be good.”

If the biscuits Chase sampled earlier were any indication, he agreed. When Granger promised him the best meals he'd ever eaten, Chase wrote it off as exaggeration. Now he started to allow a little anticipation. Lumber camps weren't known for their good company, comfortable beds, or easy lifestyle. What kept a man coming back was good pay and better food. When it came to his meals, an axman had high expectations and low tolerance for anything less than good food and lots of it.

All in all, Chase was glad to hear their appetites and their thoughts centered around supper. Their love for a special dish, particular to woodsmen, was key to his plan tonight.

“If the food didn't taste like it dropped from heaven's tables, I wouldn't stay on with no pay,” someone muttered.

No pay?
Chase angled closer to make out the rest of the conversation. The two hulking men paid no attention to him.

“It's always food with you,” his friend dismissed. “Me? I'm working for a wife. There's only two left, so I have to choose which woman to cozy up to. Miss Lyman or Miss Higgins?”

At that point Chase drifted away. He'd already gotten everything of interest out of that conversation. And very interesting it was, too. Granger hadn't mentioned anything about the workings of the camp. Then again, there'd been no need. As far as everyone in Hope Falls was concerned, Chase didn't need to know that these three—four when one counted Braden Lyman's fiancée—women had hoodwinked these men into working for them in exchange for nothing more than their food and a fool's promise.

The whole thing reeked of fraud. Any idiot could see that these women wouldn't lower themselves to marry common lumbermen. Granger's fiancée, the only woman engaged thus far, nabbed herself a successful businessman with a fortune of his own. Bile burned the back of Chase's throat at the idea his friend was taken in, but he couldn't interfere there.
Granger's problem
.

Chase's responsibilities lay with his sister and the brother-in-law sent to his death by Lyman's Miracle Mining Company. As he walked up to the diner ahead of the rest of the throng, he knew he'd come one step closer to the truth behind this sawmill scheme. More would follow as he watched, waited, and went to the mine site for clues. He just had to win the men over first.

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