Tall, Dark, and Determined (28 page)

Spotting nothing offhand, he glanced at Miss Lyman. She'd yet to respond to Lawson's overblown compliments, so Chase figured she'd been stunned into silence. But those raised brows looked more disbelieving than flattered.
Good for her
.

“Thank you for coming to my aid, Mr. Lawson.” It was unmistakably a dismissal, and the engineer took it as such.

“Call on me anytime, Miss Lyman. Particularly if you encounter any …”—he slid a sideways glance toward Chase, making the pause meaningful before he finished—”difficulty.”

If I encounter any difficulty?
Lacey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at Mr. Lawson's earnest offer.
I'm surrounded by men! They create difficulties on a daily basis
.

Not the least of which was their affinity for interrupting her ability to carry out her own business. Then, of course, they proceeded to dictate how and what she should be doing instead. Today was a perfect example. When Mr. Lawson wandered into the store, she'd seen fit to enlist his aid hanging the coffee sign.

Instead of climbing up the ladder and hoisting the heavy thing himself, as any gentleman would, he enthusiastically directed her to hold it aloft, so he could better judge its baseline. In the normal way of things, Lacey wouldn't mind a reason to climb a ladder. As a petite woman, she enjoyed the sense of height.

But after the past few days, her shoulder ached. Worse, Mr. Lawson turned out to be the most horrid sort of perfectionist. Why, she'd shifted and nudged and angled that sign six ways from Sunday trying to satisfy his sense of aesthetic. And in the end, she'd gratefully descended to find the thing slanted.

It did little to bolster her faith in the man's skills as an engineer. If he didn't come so highly recommended, with Granger having worked with him before to judge the results firsthand, Lacey would seriously consider looking elsewhere. For now she'd settle for seeing him leave the store—and her—in peace. Things lay hodgepodge in heaps and piles everywhere, and with the caliber of his assistance, the mess would double!

“I'll keep your offer in mind, Mr. Lawson.” She tilted her head. Toward the door. Hopefully he'd take the hint.

“Anytime,” he repeated before finally taking his leave.

Lacey started to breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed another interloper. This one stood amid a jumble of goods, intently sniffing a tin pail of None-Such Peanut Butter. She watched, thunderstruck, as Decoy decided he liked it enough to nose the thing over and start
licking the bottom of the bucket
.

“What,” she gritted out, “is that dog doing in my store?”

“Where I go, he goes.” Mr. Dunstan snapped his fingers, and the dog abandoned its exploration and trotted to his side. The man had the sheer nerve to look surprised at the question. “We already agreed. You called him well-behaved and welcome.”

Before he started licking the canned goods
. Lacey closed her eyes and fought for calm. “In the house, Mr. Dunstan. Your dog is welcome in the
house
. I've noticed you do not attempt to bring Decoy into the diner.”
Evie would've thrown a conniption
.

The man looked supremely unconcerned. “He waits outside for me. Decoy's well trained, but even I can't expect him to just drool when platters of fried chicken go by. I'm not cruel.”

“Not cruel, but nigh unto impossible!” She pointed toward the upended tin of peanut butter. “I can't have him slobbering all over the foodstuffs every time you step through the door!”

He glanced at the peanut butter then took a long, considering look around the place. “Ordinarily, I'd tell you he won't. I trained him not to touch anything on shelves. Things on the ground or in junk piles constitute fair game.”

“So it's
my
fault you can't control your horse of a dog, but choose to bring him into the store regardless?”

“Didn't say so.” The dratted man looked like he was swallowing a smile. “I didn't expect someone so meticulous in other aspects would own a store that looks like someone picked it up, flipped it upside down, and gave it a good shaking.”

Lacey decided to ignore the accuracy of his description. Agreeing would only encourage him, after all. What she needed was to get him out of the way and get things in order. Then the next time he brought Decoy on the premises and the dog so much as sniffed something he shouldn't, she'd throw them both out!

“For your information,” she declared in tones that brooked no argument, “I've not yet opened for business. Today I opened the doors solely to capture some fresh air while I worked.”

All the goods and displays she'd so carefully ordered should have been neatly stacked and sorted as per her explicit instructions. When she'd first arrived in Hope Falls and opened her mercantile, Lacey couldn't believe her eyes. Not only were none of the shelves up, but the main counters sat shoved against the walls. Reaching them required climbing over minor mountains of goods that had been removed from their packing boxes and crates only to be dumped unceremoniously across the floor.

No rhyme nor reason dictated the location of anything, dust covered half of it, and the entire thing posed a Sisyphean task Lacey hadn't been able to make much time for. Too much happened all at once when they arrived in an abandoned town suddenly full of eager bachelors and a brother she no longer recognized.

“I can't believe you unpacked everything this way.” Something akin to compassion softened his features, and once again Lacey was struck by how handsome Mr. Dunstan was. Or would be, if he trimmed his hair, became better acquainted with a razor, and stopped firing her temper every time they spoke.

“It doesn't matter,” she sighed. “We take what's given and either triumph over it or let it defeat us. I don't intend to be defeated by something I can change, Mr. Dunstan.”

He lapsed into that silent-but-looking-too-closely-for-comfort habit she'd noticed before. Rather than let his taciturn lack of response make her fidget, Lacey reached for the apron she'd removed before tackling the ladder. Its overlong ties could well have tripped her if they'd come undone.

As she tied it around her waist once more, she tried to stop herself from wondering what he was thinking. To distract herself, Lacey looked at the dog now lying placidly on a bare patch of floor. His brindled coat made it less obvious, but when she made a closer study, she could see areas of matted fur and the occasional burr clinging on. She wrinkled her nose.
He needs a bath. Maybe once the store is organized and Decoy's been properly cleaned, it won't be such a problem to let him inside
.

“Somehow”—Dunstan's voice snapped her attention back to the man—”I get the idea not much could defeat you.”

But I will, if need be
. Chase kept the last part to himself, curious to hear Miss Lyman's response to his statement.

She gave him a long, measured look. “Likewise.”

No simpering, no effusive thanks, no coy denials for Miss Lyman. Her simple acceptance of the compliment, and matter-of-fact return of it, pleased him. He nodded in acknowledgment.

Then he rolled up his sleeves. Originally Chase wandered in hoping to find Granger and somehow work Braden Lyman into the conversation. Now he found himself reluctant to leave. Something in the way she'd declared her intention to triumph over the bad circumstances thrust upon her resonated with him. This sort of determination he not only understood, he approved.

She shouldn't be doing this alone
. There were too many heavy items to be moved. Too many ways she could hurt herself, if she hadn't already overstressed that shoulder she kept ignoring. The place had too much … everything. And none of it where it belonged. As far as Chase could see, the wisest course of action would be to move everything out of the way, set up the shelves and displays, and sort all the goods onto them later.

“Essentially,” she began hesitantly, as though unsure whether or not he intended to pitch in, “I planned to shift everything toward the front then set up the racks and counter.”

“Smart thinking.” Without another word, they set to work. Whatever sat in their path, they either scooted or carried out of it. Pails of Partridge's Pure Lard stacked alongside Velvetina Talcum Powder. Bottles of Liquid Doom insecticide loomed threateningly over Sawyer's Animal Crackers. Carter's Indelible Ink smugly sat atop Hansdown Hand Cleaner.

Irony earned a few smiles, but Chase took particular pleasure in tucking Shaker's Choice Garden Seed packets next to cans of Birdseye Sorghum. The Birdseye, a new product, came labeled with a single eye flanked by two swooping birds.

“Looks like they're going to peck it out.” He expected the comment to elicit some sort of horrified reaction. Dainty ladies didn't think about such things. Nor were they acceptable topics for the sort of civil conversation she sounded so fond of.

Instead she laughed. “Do you know, the same thought crossed my mind! And somehow the eye follows you no matter where you move. It looks like it's watching everything.”

“Let's test it.” Chase climbed over mounds of rope, coffee, and tubes of Cow Clean to perch one of the Birdseye tins atop a tall shelf. After returning to the cleared area, he looked at the thing. It stared back from beneath a single, arched eyebrow.

“Eerie, isn't it?” Miss Lyman slid to the far left of the bare area. “I'd swear it's still looking at me even over here.”

“Can't be.” Chase went to the far right to test it. “It's watching this way. Only one eye, so it can only stare one way.”

“Oh?” She scoffed. “Trade me then, and see for yourself.”

He obliged, only to discover she'd been right.

“I like to think it has a blind spot somewhere.” She sounded downright cheerful. “And when this whole place is cleaned up, I'll be able to walk far enough away to find it!”

“It's got the advantage.” Chase went back to work.

“What advantage?” Miss Lyman tarried over by some canvas.

“It doesn't blink.”

“I'll beat it anyway.” She laughed as she said it. “You don't know me yet, Mr. Dunstan. But when you do, you'll learn there's no obstacle big enough when I set my mind on something.”

Chase felt the day's lightheartedness drop right out from under him. No obstacle big enough … What, exactly, did Miss Lacey Lyman set her mind to? What if Miracle Mining was an obstacle standing in the way of this grand sawmill idea of hers?

He didn't have any answers. But he wouldn't let her charm him into forgetting that he'd come to Hope Falls for a reason.

I can't afford to let her become a blind spot
.

    TWENTY-THREE