Tall, Dark, and Determined (5 page)

Cora laid a hand on her sister's shoulder. “Return our confidence. Perhaps not the first day or so, but at some point he should have revealed his identity and warned us.”

“He warned us about being careful and not trusting the men from the moment I met him! Every step of the way, he watched over us to provide protection. Who helped enforce town rules? Kept order? Stopped those evil men from sneaking into our house with Mr. Kane that night? Jake, that's who. And you turn on him?”

“Creed did.” Lacey tried to make her see. “Not Granger.”

“All right, then who's out there right now, ridding the town of the brutes who began brawling yesterday? Eight burly men who won't leave quietly, and who's protecting us right now?”

“They think it's Creed, but it's not, is it?” Lacey pointed out. “If those men knew Creed wasn't real, he wouldn't hold any sway with them either. That's why you're having difficulty getting our approval. There's a reason we implemented the vote, Evie. Remember, you convinced me of its wisdom when I balked.”

“But I never imagined there would be a problem with
my
choice of groom,” Evie grumbled. “The three of you practically pushed me into Jake's arms, and now you won't give me your sanction for a wedding? Seems to me you three have changed.”

“Don't go admonishing me about changing my mind, Evie.” Cora held ground against her older sister. “If Jacob Creed existed, I'd still agree he'd make a fine groom. But he never did. This Jacob Granger stands little more than a stranger.”

“His name doesn't matter—the man wearing it does!” Evie wrung her apron into a mass of wrinkles. “Jake hasn't changed.”

“Then I'm even more worried. You're willing to bind yourself to a liar.” The heat of anger eased some of the ache from constant tension, but Lacey didn't welcome it. “Bad enough, his words hid his identity. His silence hid a killer.”

“A killer he saved you from, Lacey Lyman! A criminal he tracked down and exposed when Twyler would have gone free.”

“I wouldn't have needed rescuing if I'd been warned.” Stung, she snapped the words.
I came here to prove I don't need to be treated like a china doll, and I wound up being rescued?
But beneath the rage simmered a lingering fear. “We all trusted him, Evie, but none of us will let you make the mistake again.”

“We all make mistakes.” Naomi's reminder held a private sorrow, and Lacey winced alongside her cousin. “Which is why I won't say nay to Mr. Granger. I feel I know enough about the man to see how he cares for Evie. He has the time it takes the rest of us to choose husbands to iron out the rest.”

“We'll be watching to make sure you don't get burned.” Cora's vow made her sister smile, though it died swiftly. “We'll start by finding some way to be sure the former Mr. Creed is the real Mr. Granger. Once that's certain, we can investigate more.”

“Mama's old friends back in Charleston will help. There's no one like a society matron to sniff out a bachelor's background. Particularly if he's eligible, and Mr.
Granger
would fit that bill.” Satisfaction starched her spine as Lacey found something to take charge of—a concrete way to safeguard her friends.
I should have done it before. Why didn't I stop to think?

“Mr. Lawson and Mr. McCreedy vouch for his identity,” Naomi pointed out. “Since he knew we approved of him as Creed, I doubt the man would trouble himself inventing a name at this point. I believe he truly is Granger, and now that he's caught Twyler, he's setting things straight. It's only good sense, after all.”

Cora nodded, but added, “He brought Lawson and McCreedy, so we might do well to assume they'd support him regardless.”

An exasperated sound escaped Evie, but she didn't remark.

“Stop huffing.” Lacey resolved to telegraph Charleston that very day. “If there's one lesson we can take away from this entire debacle, it's that we can't trust anyone in Hope Falls. From now on, we take a hard look at every new hire.”

For instance, Lacey didn't quite like the looks of the fellow conferring with Riordan, Clump, Williams, and Cree—Granger. She caught herself thinking of Evie's intended by his false name and stopped short. But thinking about fake names was the first step in a dance she'd rather sit out, so she studied the new man instead. She took in his broad shoulders. The confident stance. The sun-bronzed skin, and head of hair dark enough to drown doubts. Lacey Lyman gave a heartfelt sigh.

Of regret. After all, nothing good came dressed like
that
.

    FOUR    

Y
ou're going with the next train.” With the biggest threat safely stuffed onto the train and on their way to who-knew-where, the rooster bringing up the rear of Granger's crew bobbed his head toward Chase. “Nice of you to step in, but you weren't needed then, and you sure as shooting aren't wanted now.”

Two sentences, and the man cemented Chase's poor opinion.
Yep. More mouth than muscle, and more muscle than mind
. He shook his head. Once. That's all it took to acknowledge the man's insulting order to board the train and refuse it. It also served as a silent invitation for the rooster—which was always just a chicken with a strut—to try and enforce it.

Granger stayed clear, a silent show of respect from a man whose esteem he'd earned long ago. Bear, the big Irishman, gave a growl of disapproval but otherwise held his peace. The German, whose primary concern had been for the women, ignored those cues. The man either disregarded or didn't know the Rule.

There were few unspoken exceptions having to do with protecting women and children or preventing injustice, but otherwise male interaction could be boiled down to one rule: handle your own business; leave other men to handle theirs.

Most conflict in the world could be traced to some idiot ignoring the Rule. And here stomped the German, spluttering about how the other man lacked manners. Poor sap never even saw the blow coming, just doubled over with surprise in his eyes and no air left in his lungs, the wind knocked clean out of him.

Chase waited for the rooster to turn to him before letting fly with a right hook to the jaw. Stepping over the chicken now crumpled in the mud, he offered his hand to the fallen German and pulled him to his feet. “Leave it be, next time, yes?”

“Ja.”
A shaky nod belied a hearty handshake. “I'm Klumpf. Friends and men who knock over Williams call me plain Clump.”

“Dunstan.” He pulled back his hand. The rooster—Williams, he now knew—didn't stir. Perhaps when he woke, he'd crow less.

“Riordan.” Another handshake, this from the redheaded giant. “Most call me Bear, but I'll answer to either, ya ken.”

“Ken?” The word caught him. “Not Irish?”

“Ah, a canny one.” A broad smile split his face. “Scots-Irish I be, and you'll hear the lilt and the brogue and a whole hodgepodge of phrases from me. Most never notice.”

“When Riordan gets riled, no one understands him.” Granger clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to see you, Dunstan.”

“Likewise. Hadn't heard you were back in Colorado.” Chase raised a brow but held his tongue. Whatever his old friend's reasons for calling himself Creed, it wasn't his business.

Not yet.

Why now?
Jake Granger eyed the newcomer warily, doubts warring with relief.
There couldn't be a better time for Dunstan to blow into town, but that's what's suspicious. Why does he show up now, when
I have most use for him but didn't send word for him?

“You didn't hear I was back in Colorado for good reason.” He addressed the question behind his old friend's statement, glad he'd taken Bear and Clump aside earlier that morning to fill them in on his real identity. The men leaving town hadn't known. Any hint that Jake wasn't whom they thought, and their pride over being lied to would rile them even more.

“No one knew. I've been going by Creed to keep it quiet.”

Dunstan's short nod affirmed Jake's memory of the man. Observant, Dunstan noted the name change. Quick thinking, but methodical, he chose not to ask in front of others.

“The others still don't know.” Clump nudged Williams's arm none too gently with one overly large boot. The man didn't stir.

“With the rabble-rousers gone, the rest won't prove problematic. Worst case, they won't believe I'm a Granger. He”—Jake jerked his head toward Dunstan—”can help there. I've worked with Dunstan before—three years back. He hires out as a guide, hunter, tracker, you name it, along this stretch of the Rockies. Some of the others will have heard of him. McCreedy and Lawson will vouch for me, and Lyman always knew.”

“The name Granger holds clout.” Bear nodded. “Once it's established that you've finished your family business to reclaim your name, things will go smooth again.”

“Hold it, Bear.” Clump stepped forward, thumbs threaded protectively through his suspenders. The other man clearly hadn't forgotten when Jake dangled him by those same suspenders and interrogated him. “Just what kind of business did Creed finish? He didn't get around to explaining that part, and I want to know why he lied and why he doesn't need to anymore.”

“Granger.” Dunstan's amused correction marked his first, and possibly only, contribution to the conversation at hand.

“Now, I'm going to level with you three. “Jake cast a swift glance to ensure Williams was out cold. “The men in the bunkhouse will only hear what I've already said. Understood?”

“Ja.” Clump nodded for good measure. “This has something to do with your strange questions yesterday about the square coin?”

“My brother Edward carried that coin. A cheating gambler shot him point-blank, robbed him, sullied his name, and got away with it.” Jake paused. “Until now. That piece—it's really an old balance used to check coins for weight and prevent clipping or shaved edges—marked the murderer I've been tracking for months.”

Dunstan rolled his shoulders, evincing an easy readiness. He'd obviously weighed Jake's earlier statement about finished family business and decided whatever was left wouldn't be urgent or difficult. That frame of mind told, as nothing else could, Dunstan was the only man who had yet to meet the women of Hope Falls.

Good
. It meant he might be talked into staying while Jake hauled Twyler in. Dunstan didn't like towns, and the less he knew about this one, the more likely he'd be to hire on awhile.

Next to him, every muscle in Bear's arms and neck strained. From the way the Scots-Irishman's breath came out in great huffs, Jake judged him ready to thrash any murderers still lurking around. Then again, the big man might be straining to hold back his rage over not being informed about the problem.

Equally good
. Big Bear had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to the women and the stature to make good on it. If he got worked up over having misjudged Twyler, he'd keep an even sharper eye on Evie and the rest until Jake got back.