Chapter Six
NATE SIGHED AND RANa hand through his hair. Trust Stuart to have some farfetched idea that would get him out of marrying this Sissy Flagler or closing up his business altogether and leaving Cañon City.
His home.
He swallowed, trying to force down the despair that came with the idea of leaving again. Not much had felt right to him for the past several years, except photography and coming back to Cañon City. The moment he’d stepped off the train at the depot and breathed in the air here, heknewhe’d made the right decision. Despite having no family of which to speak, his friends were here. And they’d welcomed him back with open arms.
“All right, what is it?” he asked Stuart.
Stuart gave him that half-grin he’d always sported when presenting some poorly conceived idea, whether it be climbing to the roof of the livery stable at midnight or riding bareback and nearly breaking their necks at thirteen. And now, apparently, his newest scheme would save Nate’s future.
Maybe.
“It’s simple, really,” he said. “You lie.”
“And say what?” Nate asked.
“You’re already engaged to be married. And, as such, you can’t possibly marry Miss Flagler.” Nate leaned an arm against the fireplace mantel, clearly proud of his idea.
And it wasn’t a bad one at all—ifNate had a woman to produce to prove it. “What happens when this pretend lady never appears and the marriage never happens?”
“You say she called it off. She won’t be coming from the Dakota Territory—or wherever—after all.”
Nate had a sneaking suspicion that Miss Flagler and her father wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. “What if Mr. Flagler insists I end this so-called engagement immediately to marry his daughter?” It was exactly what would happen, judging from what Stuart had said about Miss Flagler’s father. The man had money—alotof money—and wasn’t shy about using his standing in town to get what he wanted.
And if he wanted Nate ruined, it would happen.
Stuart apparently had the same thought, because he shook his head. “No, we need something better. Something Flagler can’t oppose.”
Nate crossed to the hearth to stand opposite Stuart. A fire burned low to ward off the chill that would come as the sun descended. He leaned his hands against the mantel and tried to think. But nothing would come.
“You can’t marry Sissy Flagler,” Stuart said for the second time that afternoon. “She’ll make you miserable.”
Nate pressed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes against the dull thud of a growing headache. He’d felt no attraction whatsoever to Miss Flagler. In fact, he’d spent most of their photography session trying to keep her at arm’s length. It had been night and day from when he’d taken Ruthann’s photo. The time had passed far too quickly then.
No. No matter what happened with Miss Flagler, he had to keep Ruthann from his thoughts. Stuart would throttle him if he knew Nate thought of her in any way other than as a little sister.
He squeezed his fingers against his head, pushing the headache and the lingering image of Ruthann from his mind. “Perhaps if I told Mr. Flagler that I have nothing to my name, other than the studio?” He turned to face Stuart again. “Surely he wants his daughter to marry into wealth?”
Stuart shook his head. He shared the same eyes and the same hair color with Ruthann.No. Why was Nate thinking of Ruthann again?
“But if I told him I rented a room, had no home? No extra money to buy any comforts?” Nate felt as if he were grasping at the last shred of hope that existed.
“Flagler won’t care, not now. Sissy’s scared off every man her father would have chosen for her. He wants her married and out of trouble.”
“Trouble?”
