Boone grinned. He’d thought when he’d dropped her off at Mrs. Collier’s house, his deception would be discovered for sure.

But it hadn’t. At least, as far as he knew, it hadn’t been.

A few minutes later he found himself chuckling again as he pulled his watch out of his pocket to glance at it. A regular occurrence with a business as big as his to run, but this time he found himself glancing at his watch to see how long he’d have to wait to see Lucy again.

Was it the girl? Or was it the situation?

He supposed only time would tell.

By the time he picked her up to take her to the mayor’s office, she might know all there was to know about him from Mrs. Collier, including the amount in his bank account.

He thought of Lucy’s pretty face once again, of the starch in her spine, and of her unexpected smile.

Even if his ruse was discovered, he was going to court the girl anyway.

Before someone else did.

For as long as she held his interest, Miss Lucy Rickman was his.

He had, after all, seen her first.

* * *

As two o’clock approached, Lucy glanced around her small bedroom, with its comfortable bed and pretty bedspread, desk, frilly curtains at the window, and wardrobe.

She’d already hung everything neatly inside, and was looking for something to do.

Her stationary was precisely lined on her desk, with her pen set out and ready for use.

All of her dresses hung neatly inside the wardrobe.

Clothing was folded painstakingly inside the set of drawers.

Her books were on the bookshelf.

She found herself pulling aside the frilly curtains to glance outside once again. There was nothing new. The tall houses across from her, the view between them of Main Street down below.

Darn it, she was looking for that man again, wasn’t she?

She might have expressed disinterest to Mrs. Collier, but she had far more trouble lying to herself. Mr. Newby had caught her interest, darn him anyway.

She grinned, having to laugh at herself. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Ada on the train ride out expressing disinterest in any man. Then telling Mrs. Collier the same.

That surety hadn’t lasted longer than a wagon ride into town, had it?

Even as she watched out the window, Mr. Newby and his horse-drawn wagon appeared once more.

She let out a breath and dropped the curtain. She walked over to the round mirror set in the corner and checked her appearance before making a scoffing noise and straightening. Oh, for goodness sakes! What was she doing?

She had just barely broken things off with her fiancé. Barely! Where was her broken heart now? And while her erstwhile suitor might not have had feelings for her, surely, she’d had them for him? Surely, she could not transfer her affections as easily as he had?

Her lips tightened. Mr. Hargraves had no right to any of her affections any longer. His actions had completely killed any finer feelings she might have held for the man.

Which meant she was free to pursue other options.

It didn’t quite feel seemly, but who was here to see?

After smoothing her gown, she opened her bedroom door and hurried down the stairs. She opened the front door before he could knock, and before Mrs. Collier was alerted to his presence. It wasn’t like she was planning to marry the man. But a light flirtation with a handsome gentleman might be fun, and she didn’t want anyone naysaying her.

Once again Boone’s masculinity hit her with force, and the way he stared at her, the slow smile, left her feeling utterly feminine and breathless.

“Boone.”

He tipped his hat at her. “Lucy. You ready?”

With a smile, she joined him on the porch and shut the door behind her. She remembered her grandmother’s admonition to have an adventure, and find a real man.

There wasn’t one part of her that doubted that Boone Newby was just such a man.

And while she certainly wasn’t going to marry a drinking man, her ego could use a bit of a boost at the moment.

So far, Butte, Montana, was shaping up to be a wonderful place to live.

* * *

Montana was not working out at all.

Lucy, seated across from Mayor Harding, tried to hide her dismay. “But, Mr. Mayor, I don’t understand how you could possibly have mistaken my application for that of a man.”

The mayor’s assistant, Mr. Jordan, a sympathetic young man wearing spectacles, cleared his throat and stood from a chair by the wall. “I do believe I can clear that up.”

“Well, I wish you would,” the mayor said testily, the long whiskers around his mouth seeming to bristle as he spoke.

The younger man pulled a paper from the stack he held in his arms and slid it across the desk to the mayor. “It seems we originally intended to accept the application of a Mr. Herman Reese. But it appears the superintendent of the school is an acquaintance of Miss Rickman’s grandmother, and he sent the letter of acceptance to Miss Lucy Rickman instead.”

The mayor snatched the paper out of the younger man’s hands.

As he read it, the assistant gave Lucy a kindly smile before moving back to his original seat.

The mayor cleared his throat. “Well, it looks as if that’s exactly what happened.” He shot the younger man a glare, before focusing his gaze upon Lucy once more. “Seems we got the wrong schoolteacher out.”

Spine stiff, Lucy remained unmoving as she waited to hear the mayor’s conclusion.

The large man propped both elbows on his desk and rubbed one eyelid before taking a breath and whipping his head up to meet Lucy’s gaze once more. “Well, there’s nothing for it. You’re here, we need a teacher, and it’s only for the next two months, isn’t that correct?”

His assistant sat forward. “That is correct. The contract we signed was only for two months, a trial, if you will.”

“And you know why that is, Missy?”

“I do not, Sir.” She tried not to sound offended at his tone or address.

“That is because the last school teacher ran off and got married. As did the one before her, and the one before her. We were hoping for a male teacher this time, figuring if he got married it wouldn’t make no nevermind to me, as he’d no doubt need his teaching salary to support a wife.”

“Are you planning to get married in the next two months, Missy?”

“No, Mr. Mayor, I am not.”

The man across the desk snorted, seeming less like a mayor than anyone Lucy had ever met. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

“Mr. Mayor, if I might be frank?”

He gestured an open hand toward her. “Please, do. I always prefer it.”

“Am I to understand that if I remain unmarried that I might retain my job after the summer break?”

“That’s exactly what you can understand from this. Personally, I have my doubts that you can make it through the month without marrying.”

Lucy swallowed. “Sir, I just arrived in town, and I assure you that I did not bring a fiancé along.”

The mayor snorted again. “Ten dollars says you’re married before the end of the school year.”

Lucy found she could indeed straighten her spine further. “I’m not in the habit of betting, nor of agreeing to marry a man I’ve just met. I assure you, Mr. Mayor, I will remain unmarried at the end of the school year.”

“Ten bucks.”

Lucy stood. “I’m glad to know where we both stand with each other. Good day to you, Mr. Mayor. Mr. Jordan.” She turned to leave.

She heard the mayor grumble to the younger man, “Did she take the bet, or didn’t she?”

“She did not.”

Lucy opened the door, hurried through it, and closed it behind her.

She shook her head in disbelief and headed off to find Boone. She walked through the courthouse, down the stairs, across the pink marble floor and went down the steps of the courthouse. Thank goodness, he was still waiting.

“So, how did it go? All squared away?”

“If you mean my job, then yes, it’s all squared away.”

Boone threw away the piece of grass he was chewing on and straightened from the wagon. He helped her up into the seat, and she was relieved he didn’t simply grab her and throw her up like a piece of luggage.

He settled beside her.

“What did I miss?”

“Well, I don’t know. Perhaps you would have wanted to get in on the bet that says I’ll be married by the end of the school year.”

Boone laughed as he started the horse down the road. “Ten bucks?”

She gave a brisk nod. “Indeed.”

He laughed out loud. “Did you take him up on the bet?”

“Indeed, I did not, Sir.”

“Just as well.”

She turned to glare at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, a girl as pretty as you? I give it six weeks.” The look he gave her, scorching hot, had her gasping. And darn it! There she went again, blushing to the roots of her fair hair.

“To my boarding house, Mr. Newby.”

“Boone, remember?”

She took another steadying breath. “To my boarding house, if you please, Sir.”

She would’ve felt better about the chill in her voice, and her reserved manner, if the man hadn’t laughed.