Tall, Dark, and Determined (12 page)

“Oh Lacey.” Her older cousin looked horror-struck.

“Now, Naomi.” Lacey leaned forward, but fell back as her shoulder protested. “I'm here safe and sound. Don't fuss so.”

“Who's this?” Cora's gaze darted from Lacey to Dunstan. “Where did he come from, and what part did he play in Lacey returning to the house more disheveled than we've ever seen?”

Lacey raised her good arm to check her hair, found things even worse than Cora let on, and went back to clutching her shawl.
I knew I looked a fright, but she need not have said so
. “I don't know.” Jake held up a hand in defense against Evie's raised brows. “I asked, but Dunstan said to ask Lacey.”

Abruptly all five pairs of eyes turned to her. Four held unanswered questions. One held an unspoken accusation.

Obviously Dunstan realized she'd tricked him. Now he resented his promise to let her say whatever she wished about the dead cougar. She met his bad humor with a smirk.
Too late
.

“Oh, nothing much. A mountain lion with exceptional taste coveted my hat. The thing let loose an unearthly shriek and launched from the trees, but I shot him before he did any real damage.” She gave a nonchalant shrug, ignoring any pain. A grimace would entirely undo her carefree facade. “Thankfully, my ensemble bore the brunt of the encounter. Mr. Dunstan happened by in time to hear the cat then helped me to my feet.”

“Oh Lacey!” Her friends' exclamations held a gratifying mix of concern and admiration. None of them seemed frantic.

“Just yesterday you could have been killed out there! What were you doing alone in the forest?” The hard edge beneath Granger's question did little to endear him to her.

Oh, I'm glad I withheld my vote, and you don't yet have permission to wed Evie. If you hadn't lied about who you were and why you came here, yesterday wouldn't have happened!
The gall of the man to imply that situation had been in any way her fault—or that she needed to be kept on some sort of tether!

“Walking.” The distinctively low timbre of Dunstan's response pulled her from the quagmire of her musings. “That's what she told me when I asked. Miss Lyman was walking.”

“I don't happen to enjoy running,” she agreed.
Why did he interfere? And why did he have to let everyone know he interrogated me about why I was alone?
It seemed as though whatever she least wished to draw attention to, the men seemed equally determined to focus upon. “And after yesterday, which could not have been forseen by anyone in this room save one Mr. Creed-now-Granger, I felt the need to clear my thoughts.”

Granger snorted the way a horse did before it bucked. “It's not safe for you to roam the mountainside alone. Any of you.”

The other women shared glances. Naomi's considering look meant she leaned toward agreeing with the man. Cora's frown gave away little. Evie—well, Evie went ahead and spoke her mind.

“Seems to me Lacey did just fine this afternoon dealing with the
natural
predators of the area—though I sincerely hope none of us has need to repeat her success. Even if you're concerned, Jake, you don't have the right to tell Lacey whether she can or can't go for a stroll on her own property.”

“Do you plan to publicly contradict me after we're wed?” Granger's scowl found a new target in his bride-to-be.

“Don't make this a choice between being a woman and a wife—I can't be one without the other.” Doubt shadowed Evie's features. “I speak my mind, same as always. But this isn't public, Jake. This is you trying to issue orders to all the women in town and me saying that's neither fair nor appropriate. If I waited to tell you you're wrong in private, then it means everyone here would think I agreed with you.”

“You should.” Dunstan broke in for the second time.

Cora's question sounded more curious than outraged. “Because they'll be married, or because you think he's right?”

“Because Granger
is
right.” The man excelled in short statements dropped into the conversation like blunt objects.

“He's wrong, and so are you.” Lacey decided a reminder was in order. For both men. “You're new here and not staying long, but let me assure you, Mr. Dunstan, that the women of the town own—and run—Hope Falls. We make every decision, from whom we choose to marry all the way down to who's allowed to stay.”

Silence reigned after her pronouncement. Granger didn't naysay her. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. But the new man didn't respond either. After a too-long pause, he took action.

His jaw slid to the side before he emitted a whistle so high-pitched as to be almost inaudible. Instantly the enormous, shaggyframe of Decoy bounded through the entry hall. Which meant he leapt through the front door and sailed through the second door into the foyer in a single jump. He came to halt at his master's side and sat down.

His master, the far less tractable creature, flashed his own smile at Lacey. A challenge lurked behind that grin, and they both knew it had more to do with their interaction than with the moose-sized mutt now imitating a throw rug.

“What”—Cora goggled at Decoy—”is that supposed to be?”

“I think it's a dog,” Naomi ventured. Her stiff posture indicated precisely what she thought about the presence of such a large, unkempt animal within the house. “A rather large one.”

“Why is it inside the house?” Evie paused in the act of setting her heavy tray atop a side table. Decoy raised his head and gave a hopeful sniff in her direction, but didn't move.

“Miss Lyman assured me
he
is welcome in Hope Falls.” Dunstan's emphasis of the word
he
reminded Lacey not only that she had, indeed, said this. It also told her he held a grudge. The man clearly hadn't appreciated her directive to leave Hope Falls and not look back. Now he'd found his revenge.

“Whatever was said, I'm certain you misunderstood. The … dog …”—Naomi's pause signaled doubts as to the animal's parentage—”may be welcome in town. But it is beyond expectation that he be allowed into the buildings. Surely you understand.”

“Where I go, Decoy follows. Miss Lyman lauded Decoy for his loyalty before issuing his invitation to town.” Dunstan didn't glance Naomi's way as he reached down to rub the dog's ears. “I don't believe honor is limited to men, but I believe only people who stand by their own word can expect the same of others.”

He's threatening me!
Lacey sucked in a breath. The man had some nerve. Unfortunately, he had enough brains to make it a problem. Dunstan backed her into a corner, and she'd have to capitulate. For now.
It won't be for long. I'll make sure he heads out for his new position before Granger leaves
.

“Unlike so many male creatures”—Lacey's grin was more a baring of her teeth, and she knew Dunstan recognized it—”Decoy is both useful and well behaved. The dog is most welcome.”

“Lacey Lyman, what happened to you?” The question burst out before Evie could stop it, judging by her slightly sheepish expression. “You wouldn't get so much as a perfumed lapdog back in Charleston. Didn't you cite shedding as the reason animals—aside from cats proven to be good mousers—belonged outside only?”

“Now, Evie,” Cora cautioned her sister, still eying Mr. Dunstan. “Every rule needs the exception to prove it.”

“This man,” Granger added, “manages to be the exception more often than not. You might not be thrilled about his dog, ladies, but I'm sure you'll welcome the newest addition to Hope Falls.”

“Of course we welcome Mr. Dunstan. He already plans to enjoy our hospitality tonight before going on to start a new position.” Lacey tried to smooth the conversation back on track. It looked as though Granger knew the man, but that curious coincidence needn't be explored now. When Granger was gone, so would be any pretext for Difficult Dunstan to remain.

“So you decided to sign on?” Granger clapped his friend on the back. “Glad to hear it, Dunstan. Ladies, you won't regret it. This man's the best hunter in the Rockies. He'll keep Evie's stewpan full and all four of you safe until I return.”

    TEN    

M
iss Lyman rose from her chair as though getting to her feet for battle. “He plans to stay the night, but
only
tonight.”

“In town. I don't much care for bunkhouses.” Chase felt the slow grin spreading across his face. “Your kind welcome of Decoy is what finally convinced me to take Granger's offer.”

She didn't like that one bit. Miss Lyman's nostrils flared as she struggled to maintain her composure.
She allowed Decoy in the house thinking to keep me quiet about how dangerous the cougar attack was. Now she'll be stuck with that decision
.

“What offer?” The woman Chase judged to be eldest—more for the wisdom she'd evinced rather than the distinctive streak of white tracking through her hair—spoke from beside Miss Lyman's now-empty seat. Her attempt to tug the younger girl back into her chair failed when Miss Lyman pulled away to remain standing.

Bad idea
. An eggshell boasted more color than she did at the moment. The stubborn woman refused to see the doctor until she spoke with her “business partners,” so that shoulder still pained her. Added to a heated conversation, it was enough to leave Miss Lyman unsteady on her feet. She needed to sit down.

Not that she'd appreciate the observation. Chase heard enough to figure this was one woman—Granger's little lady made another, with the other two still undecided—who absolutely refused to follow male orders. They didn't look past their own importance to see sense, and while Chase found this a common failing in men, women worsened it tenfold. Men could be left to their own devices, but often wound up hurting innocent women. Which was why females needed to be looked after. At least a little bit.

Chase reached over to rub Decoy's head and gave a soft snap behind the dog's ear. When he sat at attention, Chase rolled his shoulders toward Miss Lyman, moving his hand in the gesture for “push.” These almost imperceptible signals stood him in good stead many times over the years, and now would be no different. Decoy stood, ambled over to Miss Lyman, and all but tromped atop her boots in an effort to get close. In the coup de grâce, he leaned, resting his weight against her knees.

Like so many before her, Miss Lyman couldn't withstand the weight of Decoy's show of affection. This time the target wasn't knocked over, but forced to abruptly sit down. At Chase's short nod of approval, Decoy's tongue lolled out in happy satisfaction. The dog shifted to rest his head atop his victim's lap—effectively holding her in place for a while.

“Decoy!” Miss Lyman spluttered, unable to gain her footing but surprisingly unwilling to shove the dog away. Ultimately she recognized the inevitable and patted the top of his head. “What poor manners you have. Someone should teach you better.”