Pulsifer rubbed his neck. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well, you’d best start thinking ahead. I’ve heard a lot of men say women are only interested in how much money a man makes. For most of the women I know, including my Ma, two sisters, and two sisters-in-law, it ain’t the money they care about so much as what the money can buy—security. When you get married, you’ll eventually have kids too. Are you going to be able to put a roof over their heads, provide food for their bellies, and clothes on their backs?”
Nick blinked, his arm holding the hammer frozen above him. If Frances were to tell him today she’d marry him, he was in no better a position to support a wife and family than poor Pulsifer was.
“Did you just realize you’re no better prepared to be a family man than I am?” Pulsifer chuckled. “But I understand what you’re saying. I need to get busy.”
“You’ll be writing to the lady, right? It wouldn’t hurt to ask her what kinds of things she likes,” Nick called, as the other man began making his way around the frozen ruts. “If she wants to live in town, there’s no point in buying land.”
Pulsifer just waved his arm without looking back.
As Nick hammered in the last post, he mentally reviewed his savings. He’d already made the decision he’d only marry Frances. He knew she meant to make her home in Wyoming, so that’s what he would do. He liked working with her brother Luke and had often wondered if the man would be interested in taking on a partner. The influx of cash would let him buy even more land and add to the buildings to host more guests. It would give Nick a legitimate reason to stay at the Lucky L and not branch off on his own. He’d be in Texas next week for his little sister’s wedding. It was time to talk to his father about the inheritance.
Nick’s thoughts went back to the meeting where that slick attorney Edgar Lowell had managed to soften the way Frances had looked at him. Those two together reminded Nick of vinegar and baking soda, but some people enjoyed explosive relationships. She was so contrary sometimes. Was she one of them?
The thought made the muscles in Nick’s stomach tighten. He’d only be gone ten days. The man had better not manage to woo her in that time.
4
“Yes. Yes, Miss Frances, spin in circle,” Mr. Ito said in his Japanese accent. “Now take hand.”
She concentrated on using the little finger of her right hand as a focal point and took hold of his which still grasped her wrist.
“Free hand,” he said.
Now in control of his hand, she forced hers loose from his hold. While turning his in what she knew from experience was a painful position, she used her now-free hand to grab his forearm. She grinned to herself, thinking back on the short self-defense lesson Charles had given her and Doris on their train ride to Lilac City last spring. Frances was pretty sure she could take him now.
“Opposing,” Mr. Ito reminded her.
Frances used her holds to twist his hand and arm like a wet dishrag. He grimaced but didn’t tap his leg to signal she should release him.
“Down,” he grunted.
She continued the twisting pressure on his wrist and moved one leg in front of him. Quickly, she shifted her left arm to his shoulder and forced him to bend over. When she moved her hand back to his forearm again and gave it another twist, he shifted his back foot and tapped the ground. Frances released him immediately. They both straightened, faced each other, and bowed.
“I say before,” Mr. Ito said, rubbing his arm, “you strong for female gaijin.”
“I can’t be a foreign devil,” she said with a grimace at the term. “This is my country.”
“Tell that to Shoshone,” he said, sagely. “Again?”
Frances was about to agree when she caught a glimpse of Edgar Lowell leaving the telegraph office. He appeared to be putting something in his pocket. Had he gotten a response from her uncle?
“I see someone I need to talk to. Thank you, sensei.” They bowed again, and she grabbed her coat and hat.
“Lowell,” she called, as she hurried out the door, still buttoning her coat.
He turned around. As he recognized the building she was leaving, he arched a brow.
“Isn’t threatening a man with a gun enough for you?” he asked, his tone dry.
“Very funny.”
A flash of memory from the night those men had kidnapped her and her sisters on orders from her uncle, made Frances’s stomach muscles tighten. She’d vowed then she’d never be powerless again. Charles had taught them a few things, but she’d been determined to know more. That was the reason she’d sought out Mr. Ito for lessons.
“Have you heard anything from my uncle?”
Edgar’s response was to pull a piece of paper from his inside pocket.
