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business what I do.”

    He walked into the entryway, his voice shaking the windows. “You don’t have to talk to me. You just have to
    marry me. Near as I can tell, that ends most of the talking between men and women!”

    Old Gypsy, who Jacob swore must have come with the house when it was built, poked her head out from the
    swinging door that led to the kitchen and covered her ears. She took one look at Jacob and turtled back behind
    the door before he even had time to growl at her. The old hooker turned housekeeper was just one of the strays
    Nel had col ected, but Jacob wasn’t about to al ow her to col ect a husband just because she thought she
    needed a last name.

    “Go away, Ranger.” Mary Ruth appeared on the landing, her nurse’s apron worn like armor. “Miss Nell is in no
    mood to consider any more proposals today.”

    Jacob opened his mouth to argue, but reconsidered. Maybe he should give Nel time to think about it. Maybe he
    should think about them marrying. After all, the idea had only been in his brain a second before he voiced it. To
    him marriage had always rated up there with yel ow fever. Something he didn’t want to catch, or be around too
    many people infected because they felt the need to spread the disease.

    The nurse pointed at the door again. A habit she had that was starting to bother him, and he’d only known the
    woman a matter of minutes.

    Maybe he should go. He could take a bath and cool off. He’d lost count of how many days it had been since he’d
    had time for a proper bath, unless getting caught in the rain counted. Nel could probably smel him from the
    second floor.

    He sniffed at his shirt. Not that bad. He smelled like his horse . . . on a hot day . . . after a long ride. There were worse smel s. Glancing back into the study, he noticed the dandy who’d fainted was sitting up, rubbing the back
    of his head. Randolph Harrison must not be al that used to being threatened.

    Jacob stomped back into the room and offered his hand to the man.

    Hesitating, Randolph finally grabbed hold and allowed Jacob to pull him to his feet.

    Jacob slapped him on the shoulder so hard he was afraid the man might crumple again. “No hard feelings,
    mister.”

    Randolph looked at him as if he were staring at madness in motion. He made a weak effort to dust off his
    trousers without taking his eyes off the ranger.

    Jacob herded Randolph a few steps to the entry and yel ed up the stairs, “Nel , me and Number Twelve are going
    over to the saloon to have a drink. I’ll be back after I’ve cleaned up.”

    “I hope you drown!” she screamed back. “And take Number Twelve with you.”

    “I’m coming back. Not hell or high water will stop me, and you know it.”

    “You’re not invited back unless he comes with you, Jacob Dalton. I’m not seeing you unchaperoned.”

    “What?” Jacob had been with her for years without anyone chaperoning them. What did she think? That he
    would attack her now that she was crippled up? “I swear, Two Bits, you must have scrambled some brains when
    you tumbled in that carriage. You know I’m not going to hurt you.” He looked at Number Twelve. “And if I was
    going to knock some sense into you, what good do you think this guy would do? He couldn’t stop me.”

    Randolph paled, as if fearing he might be asked to do just that. Jacob was not only almost a head taller, his
    muscular body doubled Randolph’s lean form.

    “At the most, he’d trip me on the way to strangling you, Two Bits.”

    “Don’t call me Two Bits!” she shouted. “And don’t come to dinner unless you bring the man I’m considering
    marrying.”

    Randolph swal owed hard, looking very much like a man who wished to change his mind about the proposal.

    Jacob smiled and slapped Number Twelve on the back. “You hear that? We’ve been invited to dinner.”

    Nel watched from her upstairs window as Jacob and the stranger walked to their horses. Randolph didn’t look
    near