Rugged and Relentless (21 page)

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Authors: Kelly Hake

BOOK: Rugged and Relentless
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“We haven’t made it a decision!” Lacey’s brows came together. “While your opinions matter to me, I didn’t escape the strictures of society and travel all the way out here to require anyone else’s
approval
or
permission
regarding my choices.”

“But that’s exactly what you’ve done, Lace. Your husband will have more of that sort of power than society ever did. Since we know you better than any of these men possibly could in a couple months and have only your best interests at heart, why not see it as a precaution against choosing some sort of tyrant?” After five years as her companion, Naomi knew how to best soothe Lacey’s nerves and coax her into listening.

“What if only one of you will agree to the man I choose?” Lacey saw them exchange amused glances. “It’s best to prepare for such contingencies! Look what happens when we don’t think ahead.” She peered out the window, where she could see their workers already fashioning walls for the storeroom.

“Don’t borrow more trouble than we’ve already found, Lace. If he’s the right one, you’ll fight to keep him until you win.”
Everyone knew Cora didn’t just refer to Lacey’s future love. “If he’s the wrong one, we won’t regret it when he catches a train.”

“So long,” Evie grumbled as she caught sight of a familiar lean figure heading toward a cluster of three men she couldn’t make out, “as you don’t let him have the last word!”

“Then there’s nothing more to say.” Jake uncrossed his arms—the better to reach his pistol, should the need arise. “I’m sure you three can catch the train before it pulls out if you hurry.” He judged it worth the odds to send them out of Hope Falls. Only one of the men before him fit the description of Twyler, and that just happened to be the one who talked too much.

“I’ve plenty more to say.” Williams proved him right. Shorter than his companions, with thinning brown hair and a bristling demeanor, he had the look of a man used to giving orders. His speech marked him as intelligent and possibly educated, but despite that and the coloring, Williams didn’t match up with the depiction of a nondescript man who faded into the background and vanished into the night. If this was Twyler, the man mastered disguise to a degree Jake hadn’t prepared for.

“We don’t need words here.”
Unless they’re confessions
. Jake scrutinized Williams more closely, trying to discomfit the stranger. When shows of confidence faded, the real man stood for evaluation. “If you won’t pitch in like everyone else, the rules are you get back on the train and ride on.”

“I want to talk to the ladies who wrote the ad. It was an open invitation, and I don’t see how you have any authority to retract it.” Williams’s confidence might not be a facade, or if it was, he’d built it high and strong. “Where are they?”

“Have you found troubles this fine morning, Mr. Creed?” The brogue sounded pleasant enough, but the newcomers’ expressions showed that Rory “Bear” Riordan didn’t look very welcoming.

“These three men came in on the train. I offered to show them
to the bunkhouse before they started working, but they refused.” Jake didn’t bother to glance behind him. He knew when Bear reached his side. “At that point, I suggested the train.”

“Work or leave—that’s the law of the ladies.”

“Where are the ladies?” Williams repeated, this time directing the question to Bear, whose size apparently didn’t intimidate the smaller man enough for him to shut his mouth.

“‘Tis no’ your concern.” Bear’s ham-sized hands folded into fists. “As you won’t be working to win your keep nor their hands, you won’t be needin’ to make their acquaintance.”

“I work hard when there’s something to work for.” Williams took an ill-considered step forward. “But I don’t work for nothing. How do we know this entire scheme isn’t a hoax?”

“Do you think over a dozen men would work for nothing?” Jake kept his tone amused but his hand near his holster. This Williams character had enough brains to make him suspicious and enough pride to make him dangerous—a volatile combination.
The sort of man who might hold a grudge or seek revenge
.

The irony of that judgment pinched at the sides of his jaw, where Jake clenched his teeth against finding himself guilty of the same. Yes, he hunted a man he’d never met, but this was no petty offense. A thin line divided justice and vengeance, and it all depended on which side the murder fell. Jake knew where he stood. Question was, where did Williams?

His assessment cost him the man’s response, but Bear’s reaction told Jake all he needed to know. Either he’d overestimated Williams’s intelligence or Twyler would go to any length to keep his identity hidden. Even anger a giant.

Bushy brows slammed together, forming a furious red curtain. “Just turn those boots an’ meet up wi’ the train.”

By that point, most of the other men noticed the disturbance and circled around. Speculative murmurs and hostile glares made no impact on three strangers standing their ground.

“What’d they do to rile Bear?” someone wanted to know.

“We asked where the women are.” One of taller men spoke up before Williams, suddenly keen to keep the peace.

“I asked what kind of gargoyles these women are, to have to hide away when men come calling.” Williams’s challenge both explained Bear’s ire and incited the same in several others.

“Don’t you talk about our women that way!” someone yelled.

“Now, Bob,” another talked over him. “If they’re so smart, let them hop back on that there train and ride the rails more.”

Kane
. Jake dredged the name from his memory. The man lobbying for the loggers to go along with their assumptions so others left town wasn’t above manipulating circumstances to rid himself of competition. He also happened to be one of the half dozen men sporting brown hair and brown eyes.

“It’s never smart to insult a lady,” Gent intervened, his ever-present top hat skewed to the left. “If a man can’t think of a kind word, he speaks none.” He cast a sweeping, meaningful glance at what Jake began to think of as the “regulars.” “No matter how stooped, old, spotted, or hideous the woman in question, a gentleman never remarks upon it.”

“Hush, Gent.” Dodger caught on quickest. “Such talk would hurt their delicate feelings, and you know it.”

“We’ve seen enough tears this morning,” Jake added, beginning to enjoy the new strategy to route the interlopers. “Seems the doctor couldn’t improve their situation.”

“Situation?” Williams, whose belligerence wavered in the face of rising doubts, asked with something akin to dread.

“Yep, Craig here was joking about the women being gargoyles,” one of the others explained, glancing back toward the train. “That was before all this talk. What situation?”

“Deafness,” rang Miss Thompson’s too-sweet reply, “so that twenty men somehow manage not to hear four women approach them.”

Jake’s shoulders tensed, but he wouldn’t turn his back on Williams, whose gaze turned right-down predatory as he realized
the trick they’d played … and why.

“Finding yourself surrounded by men determined to frighten off any other would-be grooms could count as a situation.” A second feminine voice carried above a cacophony of groans.

“We been caught right an’ proper,” someone confessed.

“There’s nothing proper about what you men just did.” He couldn’t be sure without looking, but Jake pegged that as Miss Higgins. “You ought to be ashamed of pulling such a stunt.”

“They ought to be ashamed for making these men think we’re gargoyles!” Indignation dripped from Miss Lyman’s exclamation—the same indignation from when she’d defended her poufy sleeves.

“They should be ashamed for making light of those in need of medical care.” The quiet outrage had to belong to the younger Miss Thompson, who’d been distressed after visiting a patient in the doctor’s care. Her tears gave way to dignity now, at least.

“But most of all”—the cook’s voice gathered strength for the final feminine invective—“they should be ashamed of their own hypocrisy!”

     FOURTEEN     

B
ull’s–eye
. Evie bit back a triumphant grin when Creed’s shoulders, already tense, went completely rigid.
Good to see he knows that was aimed at him, judging other people’s decisions. Humph. At least he can’t argue with my evaluation of him in return! A more presumptuous man never drew breath before me
.

But he still didn’t face her. He and Mr. Riordan kept their backs turned while every other man in Hope Falls—minus Mr. Draxley, whom they’d left placing orders with someone on the train, and, of course, occupants of the doctor’s or post offices—changed positions the moment she spoke. That they did, indeed, feel shame didn’t seem enough of a reason to explain their odd behavior. Evie pondered it as she made a path through the other men, her sister and friends following.

She reached the new arrivals with an apologetic smile, as any woman would. Or at least, she came close to reaching them. Evie found her way blocked by none other than the maddening Mr. Creed, who somehow collaborated with Mr. Riordan to make things difficult. The two guardians didn’t block her entirely, merely angled their bodies so the group had to form a large circle—the new men on one side, the women on the other, with the guardians
slightly inward so they didn’t form simple rows.

They’re being protective
. The realization drained away some of her indignation.
Only Creed and Riordan refused to turn their backs on the unknown. While every other man sought to placate us, they made sure we stayed safe
.

Gratitude on behalf of her sister, Lacey, and Naomi won out over the obvious logical conclusion that strangers wouldn’t get to them before the others intervened.

Because now, if these two men hadn’t interposed themselves, Evie and her friends would stand toe-to-toe with the newcomers, with the men who’d already accepted their terms too far behind to step in. She’d fully planned to storm up here, have the women introduce themselves, and establish the town rules fully under their own power.
Pride makes poor decisions
. …

“We are the women of the ad,” she began, sliding a glance at the others and raising her right hand to rub her forehead. They’d established a few signals last night before turning in—a glance before rubbing one’s forehead meant “wait and listen,” to be used in case someone planned something unexpected.

“In usual circumstance, we’d introduce ourselves and welcome you to Hope Falls,” she continued only after seeing faint nods of understanding. “But these circumstances are most unusual, and so we’ll be doing things a bit differently.”

“I’m Craig Williams.” The man she pegged as the leader of the three stepped forward in what she instinctively recognized as a territorial move. When he came forward, Mr. Williams all but closed his men from the circle, upsetting the balance.

He wants to see if Mr. Creed and Mr. Riordan will step back, giving up ground to let his men in. It’s a test!

Women played the same sort of game with seating arrangements. For the first time, Evie wondered what other subtle rules dictated interactions among men—and if all of them were so complex and nuanced as polite feminine rituals.

“Step back, Williams,” Creed growled, reclaiming his territory
and ending Evie’s nonsensical notions. Men were blunt.

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