Tall, Dark, and Determined

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Authors: Kelly Eileen Hake

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K
ELLY
E
ILEEN
H
AKE

H
USBANDS FOR
H
IRE

Rugged and Relentless

P
RAIRIE
P
ROMISES
S
ERIES

The Bride Bargain
The Bride Backfire
The Bride Blunder

© 2011 by Kelly Eileen Hake
Print ISBN 978-1-60260-761-3

eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-552-6
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-553-3

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

For more information about Kelly Eileen Hake, please access the author's website at the following Internet address:
www.kellyeileenhake.com

Cover design:

Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683,
www.barbourbooks.com

Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses
.

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

About the Author

D
EDICATION

As always, my books are dedicated to my Lord, who gives me words and patience when I have neither. But this particular story is for my fellow capable, take-charge women—and the men strong enough to love us anyway
.

    ONE    

Colorado Territory, June 1887

D
ead men told no tales, but jailbirds sang aplenty. Chase Dunstan knew Braden Lyman, victim of a mine collapse, couldn't be telling anything. Problem was, no one else gave details about the accident, leaving too many questions about how—and why—those men died. The property sold with ungodly haste.

Only a need for answers brought him to the jailbird, a man foolish enough to miss their rendezvous four days and three counties back. Getting thrown in a cell didn't excuse failure.

“What did you find out?” Chase waited while his quarry paced the small room, still not responding. He waited while the other man drank a dipperful of water and almost choked. A dry throat and slippery nerves made anything hard to swallow, and the man before him dealt lies thick enough to block a bison.

But Chase knew what all good trackers knew; waiting was the longest part of the hunt. So he tested his patience against his fellow man instead of an animal until Robert Kane faltered.

“You're not going to like it.” When Kane finally spoke, Chase didn't so much as shift on the hard wooden seat he'd chosen. “That much, I can tell you plain and simple.”

“That much, I already knew when I found you in a cell.” Chase allowed a thin thread of amusement to reel in his prey.

“And left me here to rot.” Kane kicked the wall to vent his frustration and regroup. “You could've posted bail, us being brother-in-laws ‘n' all.” His grumble died out when he looked up and caught Chase's unblinking gaze. Robert Kane possessed no shame—but he boasted some degree of self-preservation.

“Your brother's marriage makes you no relation of mine.”
If the scriptures say a man leaves his mother to cleave to his wife, surely that includes his no-account half brother
. Chase eyed Kane.
“He
was a good man, so for both your sakes, I hope you found some information worth my time.”

He made no direct mention of his sister. Laura had seen enough hardship at the hands of their own family without allowing Kane's oily thoughts anywhere near her. There were worse reasons to send Kane to Colorado than to keep him away, but only one better. Details about the death of Laura's husband—and the mine collapse to kill him—hadn't been forthcoming.

The settlement the mining outfit gave Laura to make up for the loss of her husband wouldn't last a year. Chase would have taken the matter to Lyman, the partner he'd dealt with when working as a guide for that same outfit early on, but Lyman went down in the collapse, too. Chase's suspicions deepened when the surviving partner sold the town in record time and vanished.

Since then the only mention of Hope Falls came through a ludicrous ad folded and still tucked in his back pocket:

Wanted:
3 men, ages 24–35
.
Must be God-fearing, healthy, hardworking single men with minimum of 3 years logging experience
.
Object: Marriage and joint ownership of sawmill
.
Reply to the Hope Falls, Colorado, postmaster by May 17
.

The thing must serve as some sort of code. But if the mining company was involved and covering something up, they might recognize him. Chase Dunstan couldn't go poking around Hope Falls. But Robert Kane held the anonymity and logging background to head out there and look for answers.

Kane also had the bone-deep idiocy to botch it.

“If the information's good enough, will you get me out of this cell?” No longer pretending any sort of kinship, Kane began bargaining for freedom he didn't deserve. “Because I don't have to tell you anything, Dunstan. As long as I'm behind these bars, it doesn't matter to me what happens in the world beyond them.”

“You're bartering with what already belongs to me.” It wasn't a question. Chase didn't ask questions he already knew the answers to unless trying to appear unthreatening.

“You don't have the information; it doesn't belong to you.” Kane spread his hands in offering. “It's simple business.”

“Business finished when I saved your backside from that posse stringing you up for fraud. Try again.” He stood up.

“The past doesn't concern me. Right now I need to know—”

“You can stay out of reach behind those iron bars. Or I can get you out and show you firsthand my opinion of men who fail me. Either way, you'll tell me what I want to know. Your only choice, Kane”—Chase leaned forward—”is how.”

“All right, all right.” Kane glanced at the bars as though afraid they might vanish. “Can't blame a man for trying.”

Yes he could, but Chase didn't waste the breath.

“The mine collapsed—you can see where it used to be, how the mountain sort of fell in on itself and crumpled.” Words started pouring from the prisoner—and lucky for Kane, they were true so far. Chase had circled close enough to confirm the collapse for himself just after hearing about the tragedy.

“And the ad that got your hackles raised?” Kane started to get to the good stuff. “Sure enough, there were four women running that town. They dangled the line that three of 'em wanted husbands to keep control over the loggers.”

“Four women run the town?” Chase ran the pertinent detail to ground. “The ad made it seem as though three owned it.”
If any of them do, and it's not some elaborate hoax
.

“Four. Claimed that together, with the one's fiancé, they'd bought up the town and wanted to convert it to a sawmill. They chose a site and cleared it, brought in an engineer, interviewed everyone, and divided them into work teams. It's just like the ad said, Dunstan.” Kane smirked. “Those women weren't ladies—no lady puts out an ad like that, and no man with half a brain would believe it. Course, most of those loggers didn't own half a brain, so they were fooled into hoping for pretty wives in the wild. Could almost see why—the gals meant business.”

But what kind?
Chase kept the question to himself and asked another. “Who's the fiancé—the man they claim owns Hope Falls?”

“Don't remember.” Kane looked chagrined—or at least as chagrined as he could look, which meant he looked afraid of displeasing Chase. “But he was in bad shape—bedridden. The man giving orders went by Creed, if that helps. He arrived after most of us, and it looked like he only knew one of the women.”

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