Lucy felt the slightest bit miffed as she rode beside the exuberant Mr. Beekman as he took his five children to school.

Boone had promised to take her to school each day, hadn’t he?

She’d refrained from mentioning him to any of her new acquaintances in town over the weekend, but after the way he’d simply disappeared, she was starting to come to her own conclusions. Perhaps the information Mrs. Collier had given her had been correct.

Had the man been off drinking?

She didn’t want to gossip about Boone, but perhaps a gentle inquiry might not be amiss.

She turned to the exuberant man beside her and smiled. He was discussing the intricacies of placer mining, and how Butte was known as The Richest Hill on Earth. He seemed quite enthusiastic about his subject.

When he took a breath, she interrupted. “Mr. Beekman?”

The man, big, overweight, and jolly, with a loud booming voice, glanced down at her. “Eh?”

“I just want to thank you for being willing to take me to school today.”

“It’s not a problem, you are welcome to ride with us every day.” He laughed out loud. “Getting these kids their education, and out of my wife’s hair for the day, is certainly worth a ride to school and more.”

“I had arranged with Mr. Newby to pick me up today. He must’ve been running late.”

“Perhaps he was indisposed.”

Oh dear, that didn’t sound good. “Indisposed?”

Mr. Beekman laughed again. With the reins in his left hand, he lifted his right hand to indicate the same motion Boone had once used to indicate a drinking problem. “The man does like his liquor.”

Lucy felt her heart sink. She’d seen no signs of dissipation in Boone’s face, in fact, quite the opposite. And he had assured her, he did not have a problem. She’d wanted to believe him. She had believed him. But then he disappeared, and she hadn’t known what to think.

And now, to have it confirmed from two different sources…

They pulled up to the school, and Lucy thanked Mr. Beekman and went inside with the children. Two of them followed her to her classroom, and some of the older ones headed off to their own classrooms.

When she went inside, she stopped when she saw Boone kneeling in front of the stove in the back, starting a fire. She was irritated to note that her heartbeat sped at the sight of him. But it was followed by a wave of sadness for his weakness.

More children started to file in the class, chatting, taking their seats, and Lucy moved down the aisle to the back of the room. “Good morning. That’s very kind of you to get the stove started.”

He grinned up at her, and once again, she felt her heart thud in her chest. The man was just too handsome for words, and no doubt the only reason he remained unmarried, was because of his vice.

“Good morning. It’s good to see you, Lucy.”

“In the classroom, I’ll have to insist upon Miss Rickman.”

“Miss Rickman, then.”

“I didn’t see you at church yesterday.”

“No, I wasn’t there.”

In other words, none of her business?

She nodded her head, thought to return to her desk to get organized, and realized she was stalling. Hesitating. In actuality, what was there to say to the man? She’d had fun with him and missed him over the weekend? Where she did not have the intention of pursuing a relationship with him, she supposed she ought to let him be.

She turned away.

“I had to go to Helena this weekend.”

She was much more interested in that than she should have been. “Oh?”

“Had to get some parts for a generator.”

“Isn’t that used in mining?”

He shot her another swift grin, shut the door to the stove, and stood. “You know about mining?”

He was grinning at her like it was an accomplishment of some sort, which slightly amused her. “My father has mining interests, I’ve gone with him on occasion to order parts and such.”

“Is that so?”

“Does that mean you also do work for the mining industry, Mr. Newby?”

“I do, at that.”

Standing in his presence, her resolve to treat him as an acquaintance wavered. Everything about him seemed to attract her eye. His height, the breath of his shoulders, his handsome face. High cheekbones, full lips, and his thick head of dark hair. She searched his face, trying once more to see signs of dissipation, and failing.

Awkwardly, she turned away. “I suppose I had better get to work.”

“I’ll be here this morning, if you need anything. I thought I’d get a start on fixing that back window so you can open it. I picked up some parts in Helena for that as well.”

Thinking of her?

She nodded, and calling herself all kinds of fool, she headed to the front of the classroom, determined to ignore Mr. Newby for the remainder of the day.

Somehow, she thought that might be a case of easier said than done.

* * *

The day had been a good one as far as she was concerned.

She’d settled in easier to teaching, and the children were apparently as adaptable as she’d always heard they were. They’d fallen quite nicely into the routine she’d written out on the board.

Boone, true to his word, had been in and out all morning, fixing the window, patching a hole in the wall, and doing various other chores.

She’d tried to ignore the man as she’d intended.

With limited success.

He’d said he had some errands to run and had disappeared just before lunch. No matter, she was done for the day, and determined to catch a ride home with the Beekmans. She’d asked the oldest of the children to ask her father to wait, and she’d agreed.

Gathering her possessions, she hurried out the door, and down the long hallway, looking into classrooms as she went.

Students were still milling about, as were the two other teachers, but she hurried toward the entrance.

Lucy hurried down the stairs, and across the patch of dirt and onto the dried grass around the corner.

“There you are!”

At the sight of Mr. Newby waiting beside his wagon, Lucy exhaled loudly. She glanced around and could see the Beekman’s wagon rumbling away in the distance.

Truly? They hadn’t waited for her?

“I told them to go along without you, and that I’d be giving you a ride home today.”

Grudgingly, Lucy trudged forward. “The way that you agreed to pick me up this morning? And then left me to find my own way?”

“I was there! I was simply a few minutes late, and you left before I had the opportunity to arrive.”

“Then why were you at the school before us?”

“I’m a much faster driver than Mr. Beekman.”

She was hesitant to go with him, to fall under his spell again.

“Do you have any errands to run? Anything you want to see before I take you home?”

Actually, she did. She’d like to mail the letters she’d written to her mother and grandmother. She considered asking Mr. Beekman to stop along the way home, but had been hesitant to put him out any further.

And here Boone was, offering. “The post office?”

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

He took her things and placed them into the back of the wagon, then helped her climb aboard.

He was soon seated beside her. “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for.”

They drove along in silence and after a moment he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Good grief! The man was maddening! He seemed to say whatever came to his mind, regardless of politeness. She glanced at him, and then away again. “I assure you, you are mistaken, Sir.”

“You are mad at me. I can see it in your eyes.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Really, Mr. Newby…”

“Boone.”

“Fine. Boone, then. It has simply been a long day. Please don’t read anything into my expression, or lack thereof.”

“I’ve been looking forward to getting you to myself all day today.”

At that, she did look at him. “You should not say such things to me. We barely know one another.”

The man actually had the gall to look hurt. “I feel like we’re getting to know each other better.”

She felt herself soften and couldn’t deny the man’s charm or attraction. At least to herself, anyway. But after the way he’d disappeared on her, and, she admitted, some of the things she’d heard, she still felt she was right to be leery. Perhaps it would be better to simply be honest with him?

Or maybe she should lie and blame her supposed heartache.

“Boone, I told you that I am recovering from a breakup.”

Boone snorted and anger flared within her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It simply means that we’ve had this conversation and you aren’t suffering any such thing. Though, from what you told me, I can certainly understand if your pride had been affected.”

“I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me. I’ll not be gossiping about you.”

That made her feel guilty because she’d been doing exactly that about him. After a long moment she admitted, “I’ve asked a few questions about you.”

“Really? Did you find out anything interesting?”

She noted that his breath certainly did not smell like alcohol.

“You’re looking at my mouth.”

Fiery heat rushed into her cheeks and she glanced away. She was not handling this very well at all. “I spoke to another person about you, and was assured that you do, indeed, have problems with alcoholism. I know you told me otherwise, but what am I supposed to think?”

There was a sudden silence, and she turned to catch a slightly sheepish expression on his face. “What is it?”

“Lucy, I certainly understand your reservations, especially in light of the fact that I’m courting you.”

He was courting her? Why did that make a flare of excitement light within her?

“I don’t really want to get into the whys or wherefores at the moment, but can you just trust me when I say that no way, no how, do I have problems with drinking?”

He looked so sincere, and her ears were still ringing with his declaration. Did she want to be courted by this man?

He certainly wasn’t the type of man her family would have wished for her. A handyman in a school. But did it matter to her?

She remembered Mr. Hargraves, and the complete and utter lack of attraction she felt for him. She hadn’t considered it a problem at the time, hadn’t known any better, but with Boone? She had a definite yearning to be with him. To get to know him better. To talk to him, and see what he had to say.

And with this declaration of his, she had to make a decision.

Would she allow him to court her?

Would she ignore the advice of others?

She hoped she did not regret this, but she was already nodding. “All right, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

His smile was dazzling. At least it dazzled her. What was it about this man?

“Thank you. I promise you will not regret this.”

She certainly hoped she wouldn’t.

As they traveled along, Lucy was still wondering how she’d gotten herself into this situation.

Within moments of arriving in town, she’d met the man who was now, officially, courting her.

How had that happened?

Mr. Hargraves had never courted her. Their engagement was suggested to them as a good idea by their families, and they’d both agreed to it. It certainly had made both of their families happy.

She was still unsure, but she also wasn’t regretting the situation.

In fact, sitting beside Boone in the warm spring air, what she felt was happiness.

* * *

They headed to the lower section of town, straight downhill from where the boardinghouse was.

Boone parked the wagon around the back of the feed store. He’d expected Lucy to have found out who he was by now, but where she hadn’t, he’d take as many hours as Mr. Newby as he could get.

“You’ll want to walk around to the front of the building and the post office is off to the right. I’ll meet you back here in say, twenty minutes?”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ve got an errand of my own to run, so if it’s all the same to you, we’ll just meet back here.”

“That would be fine.”

He helped her down from the wagon, and was man enough to admit he enjoyed grasping her by the waist and holding her.

Maybe, when he got to know her better, he’d take her into his arms on the way down.

Smiling at the thought, he settled her on the ground, then watched her go, enjoying the way her blue skirt curved to her figure, and even liking the frilly blue reticule that swung at her side.

His mother had told him that it would happen this way, he just hadn’t listened. She’d informed him that he’d meet a girl and, in an instant, he’d know they were meant to be together.

He hated it when his mother was right, but chuckled at the thought of informing her.

She’d be over the moon about Lucy.

He was quickly getting there himself.

He checked the brake on the wagon, made sure Lucy’s gear was stowed under the seat, and gave the horse a quick pat. “I’ll be right back. You sit tight.”

He’d liked to have gone with Lucy to the post office, but again, didn’t want his deception known until he was ready.

Of course, driving around town with her the way he was, he suspected his deception couldn’t last much longer, anyway.

He wandered to the feed store and went inside. The first person he saw was Peter Newby, and he felt a spurt of panic and hurried forward. “What are you doing here?”

The other man froze, looking suddenly guilty. “What? I…I…picking up some food for my chickens?”

Boone could smell liquor on the other man’s breath, though he looked reasonably sober. “You’re supposed to be working over at my hotel.”

Peter shot him a confused look, and Boone suddenly felt bad. The other man wasn’t doing anything wrong, Boone just didn’t want Peter running into Lucy and letting the cat out of the bag, so to speak.

He waved a hand in the air. “Forget I said anything. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Peter nodded and exhaled loudly. “You still goin’ into the school again tomorrow?”

“I’m planning to. I’ll let you know if anything changes. In the meantime, how are the pipes shaping up in the swimming pool?”

Peter went into a long explanation as Boone kept a sharp eye out the window. Soon, Lucy was back outside and looking around.

“All right, Peter, that sounds great. Gotta go. You stay in here ’til I’m long gone. Got that?”

Again, Peter looked confused, but nodded.

“And no drinking on the job.”

The next moment, Boone was out the door and crossing the road to intercept Lucy. “Did you get all your business done?”

She turned and smiled at him, and it was like a punch to his chest. The girl was just too pretty for his own good, with her bright eyes, rosy cheeks, and pink lips.

He offered his arm and when she took it, it felt like a victory scored.

“The letters are in the post.”

Boone found himself wanting to turn her around and walk up to the Mercantile, spread his arms wide, and offer her whatever she wanted.

He wanted to take her to his home on Granite Street, give her a tour, and promise her the world and more.

He did none of those things. He simply determined to take the long way home, and spend as much time in her company as he could.

So why go straight there? He might not be able to buy her anything, yet, but window shopping would give him time in her company, and the chance to talk. “Shall we take a stroll down the street?”

“That would be nice. I actually walked down here on Saturday, and had a look around. In fact, if it’s too much trouble to take me home, I think I know my way there from this location.”

He grinned at her. “Nothing doing. I’m trying to extend my time with you, not cut it short.”

She smiled and clung to his arm as they chatted and walked past the market, and then the cemetery. They were just coming up on the McDermott Hotel on Broadway, and he was actually considering tea, when a woman called his name.

“Boone! I need to have a word with you!”

What with the way they were passing people and all, he thought today might be the day he was called out on his identity, but when he turned to see who it was, he was more surprised than anything else.

Dorothy Washburn was headed his way. A local prostitute who worked in a crib just off the Chinese district, she was a woman he’d had dealings with when her husband, Teddy, died the year before. Boone had helped her out and tried to give her a ticket home to Connecticut, but she refused and ended up staying.

He wanted to hustle Lucy away, but couldn’t see any way out of the conversation so he straightened his shoulders and resolved to make the best of it.

“Mrs. Washburn?” Another quick glance around, showed him two well-dressed couples headed their way, no doubt going to the hotel.

Another glance at Dorothy assured him there was no mistaking her for what she was. Her striped skirt and tight jacket had seen better days, but to the men working in the mine, it was her feminine attributes spilling out the top of her dress that generally held their interest.

He wanted to hustle Lucy into the hotel, but it was too late, and Dorothy was upon them. “I’m pregnant with a babe, and it’s yours.”

Shock held Boone glued to the spot.

As he’d known since he was twelve-years-old how conception occurred, he very much doubted that was the case. “What?”

The woman’s eyes looked desperate, but her chin rose in the air and, hands on hips, she repeated the accusation. “I’ve a bun in the oven and it’s yours.”

Boone realized his mouth was gaping and shut it with a clench of his teeth. He took a calming breath. “That would be an impossibility, Mrs. Washburn.”

The young brunette crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest and glanced at their newly gathered audience. She seemed to lose her confidence and started to back away. “Impossible or not, that’s my story. If’n you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

Lucy released his arm.

As Dorothy fled, Boone glanced at the other couples. “Can I help you?”

The four adults moved on, the women throwing him cold looks, the men mostly amused.

Lucy’s face was a frozen mask of embarrassment.

“Lucy —”

“Boone.” She shook her head. “I’m just… I’m just going to make my own way home. I’ll see you another time.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away.

“Lucy, it isn’t what you think. I’ve never had anything to do with that woman.”

She didn’t stop, or turn, she simply continued walking at a fast pace away from him.

Humiliation and anger burned through him as he watched her go.

He looked in Dorothy’s direction, but she’d disappeared. He considered tracking her down, but as angry as he was, decided he’d do it later when he’d cooled down.

He headed up the hill, taking a different route than the one Lucy had.

Let her walk home alone. She hadn’t even given him a chance to explain! He knew they hadn’t known each other for long, knew she thought he had a past with alcoholism, and suddenly that burned too.

So, she thought he was a womanizing drunk.

He had a strong urge to follow her again, to go and explain who he was, and that the thought of him visiting a whore in the red-light district was beyond ridiculous for a man of his stature.

Why had Dorothy done that, anyway?

No doubt the woman needed money, and as he’d given it to her once, maybe she thought he’d be an easy touch for some more.

But to go about it in such a way? To humiliate him in front of his girl?

His girl. That was a joke. He didn’t want a girl who couldn’t believe in him.

He stormed all the way to his house, only to have a bad day take a turn for the worse, when he realized his mother was there waiting for him.

She came out of the parlor. “Boone —”

“Not now, Mama. I’m not in the mood.”

He stomped up the stairs, taking them two at a time and slammed his bedroom door. Then he realized he’d left his horse and wagon down by the feed store and anger flared hotter.

A tentative knock sounded at the door, and he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

This was not working out to be his day.