by Diane Darcy
Boone whistled. “That must’ve been a surprise.”
“It was.”
“And then he showed up and jilted you, is that the way of it?”
“No, not exactly. He did come by and try to see me before I left, but I sent a note down informing him the engagement was off, and congratulating him on the new baby he was expecting.”
Boone laughed out loud. “So, in essence, you jilted him.”
“I must say, it doesn’t feel that way.”
“How does it feel? Is your heart broken?”
She let out a breath, and surprised herself by telling him what she’d told no one but herself.
“Beyond the obvious, that’s what has been the most disturbing about this entire thing. Mostly what I feel is humiliation. And anger that he was lying to me, courting me, the entire time he had another girl.”
“I know men like that. They think they can do and have it all, and it usually comes crashing down around their ears at one point or another. I’m happy for you, that you found out about the other girl, before the wedding, and not after.”
“That’s something else I’m feeling as well. Extreme relief.”
He pulled the wagon to the side of the road near a stream. “So, just to clarify, you are no longer in love with the man?”
She chuckled. “I doubt I ever was, so perhaps he was within his rights to seek it elsewhere.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
“No, I don’t. The man is a lowlife scoundrel, and he should not have trifled with my affections, and my life, if he didn’t want to marry me. If he wanted someone else, he should have proposed to her.”
“Here, here. So basically, you’re here in town to lick your wounds?”
She laughed. This man truly had no boundaries. “Run away, lick my wounds, use my teaching certificate. Take your pick.”
“How about learn how to fish.”
She glanced around at the beautiful location filled with trees, water, and grass. “I told you, I’ve been fishing before.”
“You’re saying that you actually took a worm, put it on a hook, and cast the line yourself?”
She grinned. “All right, you’ve got me there. I once held a fishing pole, and with my father’s help, reeled in a fish.”
He made a scoffing noise as he tied off the reins. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve come to Butte. It seems that, despite your travel, you still have a lot to learn.”
“You’re not wrong.”
He jumped down and lifted his arms to her.
With a grin, she leaned forward, and he grasped her around the waist, lifted her, and set her on the ground.
This time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Boone had already been starting to like the woman, but her soft expression and honest look at her life and emotions, and the way she shared them with him, was making him really fall for her.
He could feel it happening.
Of course, he was sure it didn’t hurt that he was incredibly attracted to her golden hair, blue eyes, and curvy figure. When she’d held on to him earlier, he’d deliberately slowed the horses to make it last longer.
And the thrill of her not knowing who he was? Well, that just added spice to the mix, didn’t it?
He tried to picture the man who’d won and lost her, tried to feel sorry for the poor beggar, but it just wasn’t in him. He actually felt cheerful instead.
His loss would be Boone’s gain.
Reaching into the back of the wagon, he removed the fishing poles and tackle he’d gone home for before school ended. He’d never been an indecisive man in his life.
He figured his ability to make decisions quickly and decisively and stick with them, had contributed highly to his success.
And just over twenty-four hours after meeting Miss Lucy Rickman, he was convinced she’d be his wife.
Getting her situated on one of his favorite rocks, he admired the pretty picture she made as he handed her his fishing pole. Her blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, reminding him of gold, his favorite ore. The stuff had made him his first fortune, and he figured the color of her hair was yet another sign.
With a chuckle, he hooked the pail of damp dirt that carried the earthworms and held it out to her. “You know I’m gonna make you bait the hook yourself, right?”
He took the fishing pole from her and she shot a suspicious look at him, then at the pail of dirt. She gingerly took the offering. “Worms, I take it?”
Her face was adorable with her nose scrunched, her pretty blue eyes measuring him. “Can I get you to do it for me?”
“Nope.”
“Just this once, to show me the correct way?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Good try. But you’re gonna have to learn this sometime.”
“Why do I have to learn this sometime?”
“You live in Montana now. How are you gonna find yourself a husband if you don’t know how to use a hook?”
“Who says I’m after a husband?”
“The mayor.”
“He never.”
“Sure did. He’s telling everyone in town that every time he gets a lady teacher they never last a minute as they get snapped up for marriage. He said you’re next.”
“He had no right to say such things about me.”
Boon shrugged.
“And you’re telling me that every one of these school teachers were tested in the art of applying worms to hooks?”
“That, and catching fish.”
Lucy made an indelicate snorting sound that made him laugh again.
“I’d heard that women set their cap for a man, not their hook.”
“Call it what you will, it’s all the same. Now start digging.”
“You’re mean.” With a look of distaste, she hesitated, then stuck one finger in the dirt and dug about. “Where did you get these worms anyway?”
“Dug ‘em up outside my house. So, you see? You got the easy task. If I was really mean, I’d have just brought a shovel and handed it to you.”
That made her laugh and, he swore, as the seconds ticked by, he could almost feel his heart tightening in her presence.
With a look of revulsion, she pulled out a big, fat worm, and held it up in the air. “All right, now what.”
Holding the pole in one hand, Boone carefully detached and held out the hook. “Just stick it right on the end there.”
Again, with a look of extreme distaste, but also of determination, she quickly stabbed one end of the worm onto the hook. “There. I did it. Now, don’t forget to tell all the men in town I’m worthy of marriage.”
He laughed at her dry tone. “I’ll be keeping this to myself.” He winked at her. “I don’t want any competition, now do I? All right, now stick the other end on, and we’re in business.”
She couldn’t seem to meet his gaze as she did so, but then she looked up at him with an expression of triumph. “I bet you didn’t think I’d do it, did you?”
He sighed. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t.”
She straightened. “What do you mean by that? I thought it was a test!”
“If you’d refused, I could have done it for you. For a kiss.”
With that, he turned away, but not before he saw her stunned expression.
He chuckled again.
He was so going to marry this girl.
Chapter 6
He wanted to kiss her?
She looked out at the river, unable to meet his gaze any longer. She swallowed.
The man was a flirt, and no doubt about it. Did this usually work for him? Did he have a string of women he flirted with, or was this something new?
She had no way of knowing. She certainly couldn’t ask Mrs. Collier as she seemed to have something against the man.
“Here, take this.”
She realized he’d cast the line in the water, and she grasped the pole as if it was a lifeline.
She hadn’t expected this, any of thi
s, when she’d come to Montana. She’d expected to make friends with the ladies in town, not the most attractive man she’d ever seen. It was like fate was trying to play a joke on her or something.
The moment she’d announced she was done with men, temptation reared its head in the form of Mr. Boone Newby.
Perhaps she simply needed to stick to her original plan and befriend the local ladies. Perhaps she’d find out something horrible about the man that would squelch these irrational feelings and convince her to shun all men, once and for all.
She glanced at Boone again, met his smiling gaze, and immediately felt her heart weaken.
If she was going to do something, she’d better do it fast.
After a few more days spent in Boone’s company, Saturday went slowly for Lucy, and she found herself missing Boone when he didn’t show up to tease, harass, or otherwise cause any complications to her heart.
The time spent away from him was filled with organizing her room and taking a long walk about the town.
She almost expected him to show up at any moment, and when he didn’t, eventually admitted to herself that what she was feeling was disappointment.
Well, she’d been warned about the man, hadn’t she?
Perhaps he really was off imbibing alcoholic beverages in the sordid section of town.
Or perhaps, he was flirting with another girl?
Or perhaps, he was living his life and she needed to mind her own business. She barely knew the man.
Determined to enjoy herself, and to stop thinking about Boone, she acquainted herself with the town, the local Mercantile, the two dress shops, and ran into several of the children in her class.
Not liking the ache in her heart, she tried to get back to her original goals and plans for herself when she’d arrived in town.
No men, whatsoever.
And that would suit her just fine, wouldn’t it?
Still, it was almost a relief when Saturday rolled into Sunday so that she could attend church, and get to know more people.
She walked with Mrs. Collier to the local church, and as they walked up the stairs of the gorgeous stone church house, she felt relief at getting back to normal.
“The church has had a lot of money poured into it by the local mine owners,” Mrs. Collier told her. “They are not a stingy lot. And don’t you worry for even a moment because the Reverend McMurray is a good man, and he gives a rousing sermon every week. You won’t be falling asleep in this chapel, no matter how hot it gets.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
They stopped at the top of the stairs and waited in a short line as the women in front of them shot her curious looks.
Mrs. Collier, looking pretty in her Sunday best, and her flower-trimmed bonnet, seemed very happy to have Lucy at her side. When it was their turn to shake the reverend’s hand, Mrs. Collier was practically beaming. “Reverend McMurray, may I introduce you to miss Lucy Rickman, lately of New York City.”
The reverend, a huge, affable-looking man, looked like he might be more at home wrestling bears than teaching scripture.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, isn’t it, Miss Rickman. Welcome to our humble church. You are most welcome here.” He eyed her from head to toe. “And all the way from New York City, is it? That’s quite a journey. What brings you to our mountain town?”
“An advertisement in the local newspaper, actually. My grandmother happened to know Superintendent White’s family. She encouraged me to come here to teach school.”
“That’s right. The Whites are originally from New York. How interesting. And you’re a schoolteacher?” He chuckled. “We’ve had several of those of late, and haven’t been able to keep even one of them, have we now?” he and Mrs. Collier shared a smile.
“And I must say, Miss Rickman, I’d hate to jump to any snap judgments in the matter, but I suspect you’ll not last long either in this town.”
She knew he was referring to marriage. “As I just recently broke an engagement, I’m sure your fears are quite groundless, Reverend.” Especially now that Boone had deserted her without so much as a word.
He laughed. “Oh, you’ll be a lively one here, that’s for sure. Which means that you’ll fit right in, isn’t that right, Mrs. Collier?”
To her astonishment, the older woman blushed to the roots of her hair. “Oh, go on with you, Reverend.”
Lucy noted the admiration in the man’s gaze as he looked at her landlady, and glanced to her right to look at a couple of lilac bushes, giving Mrs. Collier the time to compose herself.
A moment later she was being rushed inside and seated between Mrs. Collier, and an elderly lady wearing a mauve-colored dress, and matching hat with white daisies.
“Who might this be?” The woman asked in a booming voice.
Mrs. Collier leaned forward to make the introduction. “This is Miss Lucy Rickman, lately of New York City.” Once again, the woman emphasized the name of her city.
The older woman’s eyebrows rose. “New York City? You don’t say.”
The woman leaned forward to push on the shoulder of a woman seated directly in front of her. “Charity, did you hear that? We’ve got a girl here from New York City.”
“She’s the new school teacher.” Mrs. Collier inserted.
The woman turned, and though older, it was obvious she’d been a beauty in her time and retained most of her good looks. When she took in Lucy’s appearance, her eyes widened and she turned more fully in her seat. “New York City? And you are living here now?”
“I am.”
“Where are my manners?” Mrs. Collier said. “Lucy, this is Mrs. Emma Patterson,” she gestured to the woman to Lucy’s left. “And this is Mrs. Charity Jackson.” She nodded at the woman in front of them.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Lucy nodded at both women.
Mrs. Jackson studied Lucy for a long moment and then smiled, her two slightly crooked teeth lending charm to an otherwise striking face. “Miss Rickman, are you single by any chance?”
Lucy could feel heat rising in her face. “I am.”
“But she’s recently broken off an engagement.”
Mrs. Patterson made a clicking sound of dismay with her teeth, and Mrs. Jackson gave her a look of sympathy. “Much better to find out that you won’t suit before the marriage, than after.”
Lucy nodded agreement, thinking of Boone, rather than Charles.
The reverend walked to the front to stand in front of the podium, and the meeting commenced.
Lucy could not help but note the many curious glances thrown her direction. While she’d had the opportunity to travel frequently throughout her life, and had often been the recipient of such stares, she couldn’t help but feel this was excessive, even for a small town.
She was brought back to attention when she heard her name spoken as the reverend was introducing her. “Miss Rickman, the newest member of our congregation, and a new school teacher at Adams. We are hoping she’ll last longer than the last three did.”
There were chuckles in the audience as she immediately became the focus of everyone in the room. “I know you’ll all make her feel very welcome.”
There were murmurs of agreement, and the sermon was finally started.
As casually as she could, Lucy glanced around the church, looking for Boone, but as far as she could tell he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Yesterday, when she’d walked around the town, she’d noted there were many church buildings. He could certainly belong to a different congregation. But she couldn’t help feeling a little down, and realized once again, she had looked forward to seeing the man.
She needed to stop thinking of him altogether.
Yes, the man had flirted with her a bit.
But she wasn’t in the market for a husband, and after a two day, unexplained absence, it had become quite clear that he was not looking for a wife, either.
After the meeting was over it became apparent that there was to be a potluck out on the
side lawn, and Lucy was soon at the center of a group of ladies, answering questions.
Yes, she was single. No, she had no interest in marriage at the moment. Yes, she had recently suffered a broken heart. No, she did not miss New York City in the least.
Mrs. Patterson, a plate of food in hand, stood at her side. “It sounds to me as if you’ve done a lot of traveling, Miss Rickman?”
“I have.”
“And as a schoolteacher, I’m sure you’ve a lot of experience with writing?”
The question set off in murmured conversation among the ladies.
“Yes, I do.”
Mrs. Patterson smiled. “My husband runs the newspaper in town, the Montana Gazette. I myself have been writing the ladies society column for a while, but I think it’s time we had some new blood, and perhaps some new information.”
“You’d like me to write for your newspaper?”
“Indeed, I would.”
“About what, exactly?”
Mrs. Patterson glanced at Lucy’s plumed hat, and her eyes ran down her green-striped gown, to her high-top button shoes. “I’m hoping that perhaps you could write a bit about fashion, or society life in New York City? Or perhaps even your impressions of Montana?”
Again, the ladies in the group murmured with excitement.
“Yes, that is a brilliant idea.” Mrs. Jackson approved. “In fact, I have a son who could show you the sights.”
The women shushed her and whispered about broken hearts as Lucy wondered why Mrs. Jackson didn’t write the column herself. Her gown was one of fashion’s finest, and if Lucy didn’t miss her guess, had been shipped over from Paris.
Lucy felt a flutter of nerves and excitement herself. She’d never considered writing for a newspaper before, and it would be something she could send home for her family to read. “I’d love to.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ll let Mr. Patterson know to expect your first article Tuesday afternoon, if that would suit you.”
“Tuesday?” That was awfully quick, but she thought she could manage it. “Tuesday, it is.”
“Brilliant!”
