Tall, Dark, and Determined (9 page)

His pink fluff ball was on the move. Again.

Not again
, Chase snorted.
Still
. Since the moment he spotted her, Miss Lyman refused to bow to convention, much less any expectation. He should have guessed he couldn't use typical female behavior to predict hers, could have seen this one would choose to be difficult and take the opposite position.
But no one
would expect her to head the opposite
direction,
too
.

He hefted the cougar across his shoulders and headed after the woman. Despite her shoulder and a disgruntled Decoy trying to corral his stubborn charge back toward Chase, Miss Lyman managed impressive headway before he caught up to her. Usually he appreciated that sort of determination and efficiency.

This time it made him want to dump the cougar in the dirt, scoop up the girl, and head through Hope Falls until he hit the doctor's doorstep. But Chase wouldn't touch her unless she looked ready to collapse. Judging by the set of her jaw, Miss Lyman would march clear to Cape Horn and back before admitting she needed assistance or accepted his help. So she'd just have to accept his company until she reached town.

Unfortunately, that meant he had to accept hers. Preparing for verbal buckshot, Chase stepped within blathering range.

    SEVEN    

I
can always shoot him
, Lacey comforted herself as the disconcerting Mr. Dunstan gained on her.
If he makes one false move or a single threat, I'll fire without hesitation
. Never mind her hand shook at the very thought of harming him.

This mysterious stranger pounced into her life with the lithe grace of that fallen cougar, but showed the snarl to match. If push came to shove, Lacey didn't intend to test the man's ferocity. Too much kept her off balance lately.

Yet here I am. Still standing. Walking, with great vigor, despite multiple attacks by man and beast. I haven't gone down yet
. She squared her shoulders with pride, only to wince at the burning sensation chasing trails from her neck downward.

Perhaps she
would
lie down for a while once she got back to town. Lacey slid a sideways glance toward her unwanted companion.
Not that he needs to know I took a rest. In fact, if I can somehow lose him, then sneak back into the house and change before anyone notices my state of disrepair …
She couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought of how she must appear.

One sleeve hung in tatters, no bonnet in sight, and the back of her skirts were most likely smeared with alternating streaks of grass green and muddy brown. Nature set rose pink amid those shades with admirable results, but Lacey doubted her rear wore the combination well.
So much for my Battling Braden outfit
.

Now her brother had this little incident, in addition to Twyler's kidnapping and her husband-hunting advertisement, to convince his doctor Lacey shouldn't be the executor of Lyman estates. He'd persuade the doctor to declare him more competent, citing his recovery compared to her repeated “poor judgment.”

She halted so abruptly that Mr. Dunstan managed another few strides on sheer momentum before recognizing her pause and returning. Not that Lacey wanted him to return, much less wanted him to accompany her back to Hope Falls, but suddenly personal pique faded. She had an entirely more important reason not to want this man making his way to
her
town. If he regaled her brother—or the doctor—with tall tales of wandering women and deadly cougar attacks, Hope Falls wouldn't be her town anymore.

No matter Braden's experience in the collapsed mine turned him into a new, but definitely not better, man. No matter that if Braden had those rights, he'd legally force all the women from Hope Falls until he deemed it safe. No matter they were in the middle of saving the town with the new sawmill.

“Which was
my
idea!” Some of her indignation escaped in that small outburst, but it didn't make Lacey feel any better. Nor did it provide any way to rid her of Mr. Dunstan.

“What was?” He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the damning evidence of her run-in with a wild predator for the second day in a row. Otherwise, Mr. Dunstan stood eerily still, gaze fixed on her shoulder as though trying to determine how much it pained her and whether or not she'd let him examine it.

Which of course she wouldn't. Nor did she want to answer that question and explain to such an interfering male that she was trying to thwart yet another interfering and overbearing man. Mr. Dunstan would most likely take Braden's side, sight unseen, on the sheer principle that of course men knew better than women.
That sort of principle just proves men know
less!

“I have lots of ideas,” she evaded. The less he knew, the more room Lacey had to design a plan. “And even more questions.”

“Ask later.” The dratted man started to turn away, as though he'd continue on to town without her, his dog following.

“Later will be too late!” It burst out before she could swallow the sound of her desperation. Lacey leveled her tone. “You won't get another chance once we get to town, Mr. Dunstan.”

“For what?” He hadn't moved back toward her, just stopped leaving. It was as if her answer would determine his next move.

What does he want?
Her mind raced.
Why did the stranger come to town? Men come for two things: a chance at marrying one of the women from the ad or a job with the sawmill. He's obviously not interested in marriage—the only smiles he flashes are at my expense—so work must be the lure to bring him here
.

She shoved aside a swirl of curiosity about this man who'd been unimpressed by her looks and unswayed by her stubbornness. “A chance for a position in Hope Falls. It's what you came for, and if you don't speak with me now, you won't have another opportunity to be hired on. That much I promise, Mr. Dunstan.”

Just in case her winning combination of lure and threat didn't work, Lacey began formulating an alternate plan.
I'll have Granger send him from town posthaste before the damage can be done and dismiss his stories after he's gone
. Except the afternoon progressed past the point any trains would come through, saddling her with the problematic man until tomorrow.

Tomorrow is too late if he chooses to amuse the men with his version of today's events. Word of the cougar attack—and my impetuouswandering—will reach Braden in an instant
.
Which meant her only hope lay in Mr. Dunstan wanting a job
.

He still didn't move as he uttered, “Already have one.”

Drat
. Lacey would have winced, but she knew he'd notice. Then she'd either have to fend him off from examining her shoulder—which stung quite strongly now, though she refused to dwell upon it—or leave the man thinking she'd been disappointed to hear he wouldn't be staying in town.
Which is ridiculous
.

“Already have one what?” The question may be inane, but it purchased invaluable time to think.
Only it's difficult to think with him looking down his nose like he disapproves of silly, time-consuming questions from women with injured shoulders
.

Even worse, he didn't bother answering. One quizzically raised brow absolutely didn't count as an acceptable response.

The churning sensation in her stomach warned the situation slipped further from her control. Lacey always felt sick to her stomach when it looked as though things wouldn't go her way—and she had a sneaking suspicion her stomach would never feel settled so long as Mr. Dunstan remained in the vicinity.

On the balance, I suppose I should feel rather glad he won't be staying long
. Her attempt to look on the bright side met with failure as the churning intensified.
Such a pity I need to convince the man he wants to stay in town for a good while
. Somehow the acknowledgment Mr. Dunstan needed to stay—because once Lacey made a decision, she inevitably found a way to carry it through—calmed her innards. Except for one trifling detail.

How do I convince him to stay in Hope Falls when he has a position elsewhere? How does one bargain with empty hands?

The answer burst from her memory, setting Lacey's teeth on edge.
Ask for help
. She drew a deep breath to cleanse away the echo of Naomi's refrain whenever the two of them did charity work.
“Empty hands ask for help; full hearts fill the need.”

No!
Every iota of pride shouted against the idea.
I did not sell my family home, buy Hope Falls, and keep control from Braden only to beg favors from a stranger!
She'd come too far, and still had too far to go, to give any power away.
Naomi, Cora, and even Evie are counting on me. I brought them here; I convinced them we could advertise for husbands and choose our own mates. If I ask Dunstan to stay, I'm giving him control—even a tiny measure is too much—over the lives we're building
.

If it came to that, Mr. Dunstan would simply have to leave. Unease curdled in her midsection at the realization, but she argued it away.
After all, even if I do ask for his help, how can I know whether this stranger has the heart to give it?

He'd given her more than enough time to gather her thoughts. Judging by the expressions chasing across her fine features, those thoughts were as scattered as chicken seed in a barnyard—and maybe they should be left to lie where they fell.

Her stance progressed from skittish to still to tense, indicating she'd wrestled with the situation before settling on a decision he wouldn't like. People only set their jaws when prepared for a fight, and Miss Lyman's looked braced for war.

All because he didn't want to discuss his position in Hope Falls with her.
Just like a woman to want to discuss things that didn't need to be discussed. And at a bad time, too
.

“We don't need to waste any more time.” Chase planned to plunk the stubborn woman in front of a doctor—let another man deal with the minx. He needed to track down Granger before his old friend left town—and Chase's growing questions—in the dust.

“You're absolutely right.” Her too-agreeable response started a prickle of warning between his shoulder blades. Thus far this woman reveled in causing difficulties, and the glimmer of determination in her narrowed eyes tattled that, despite her agreement, Miss Lyman didn't intend to make things simple now.

Chase shifted the cougar across his back, letting the movement distract her while he gestured with his left hand and gave the command Decoy, at least, would follow. He held grave doubts about the lady showing such good sense. “Stay close.”

“No need.” Her immediate refusal didn't surprise him.

Nor did Decoy's prompt obedience. The wolfhound rose from his haunches, where he'd sat at Chase's side during the entire exchange, to take the single loping step, turn, and butt his massive head beneath Miss Lyman's injured arm. He leaned a bit of his considerable weight against her skirts until the woman compensated by resting her hand atop his head. Then he calmed, looked for Chase's nod of approval, and closed his eyes to enjoy the way Miss Lyman's fingers absentmindedly ran through his fur.