Caught in the Middle by Regina Jennings Page A

Tillerton. Four days. Surely Anne would have her business settled and be headed back to Indian Territory by then.
    “You got it, Boss.”
    As the carpenter began gathering his tools, Nick turned to Anne.
    “I hope you’re willing to climb for a few more days. She won’t approve of my new assistant, so the longer I can keep her out of here, the better.”
    “So instead of telling her it’s not her concern, you’re hiding from her?” Anne’s gray eyes pierced through him.
    Nicholas shut the door with more force than he’d planned. “I don’t like your insinuation. What right do you have to judge me when you shun society altogether?”
    “Why do you think I’m no fan of the public? I don’t need soirees to learn herd behavior. I’ve watched the buffalo.”
    “You learned your manners from buffalo? That explains a lot.” Imagine! Anne Tillerton criticizing his methods. Didn’t his success speak for itself?
    “Does Mrs. Stanford tell you who you can hire? Befriend? Court? I saw you at the robbery. You’re capable of courage. How has this woman gained mastery over you?”
    Nick’s jaw grew taut. “It’s not that simple, Mrs. Tillerton. I’d rather risk my life at the end of a pistol than risk my financial success. And what do you suggest? Should I break contract with my sole customer in hopes of getting smaller, less reliable contracts? I know to be cautious, but I face my fears. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish this loan paper work, and you can take it to the bank on your way to the Pucketts’. That is, if you’re not afraid to walk that far by yourself.”
    Irritating. That’s what he got for getting involved with a pariah. He cut a straight path to his desk and shuffled through papers to find the form—the one he’d been working on when daydreams of the unsuitable woman before him got him distracted.
    His pen made sure scratches across the page, listing hisassets and debts for the loan officer. The sooner he could finish it, the sooner she would leave him to his work.
    “Here you go.” He dipped his pen for the last final scratches, pleased that she stood waiting on him. “The bank will be closed already, but you can drop it in the slot on the main door.”
    He folded the application into thirds and extended it toward her without looking up.
    She didn’t take the paper. “Look, I shouldn’t have said all that. I only meant it to warn you.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, waiting for his response. Well, she wasn’t the only one who could deliver a warning.
    “Your honesty is refreshing—as long as you can accept the same from me.” Her eyes lowered and Nicholas felt vindication was near. “Why don’t we always tell each other the truth? It’ll be a fun experiment.”
    “Well, then . . . truthfully, I’d like to leave now. Who knows what kind of trouble Sammy’s been for Mrs. Puckett.”
    She reached for the paper, but Nicholas swung it to his chest. “But first it’s my turn. Truthfully . . . I think you and Ophelia have more in common than you might think.”
    Anne frowned. “Impossible.”
    “While I haven’t studied buffalo, I have studied women, and I agree with your assessment of Ophelia. She enjoys her power, and her expensive wardrobe announces to all society that she isn’t to be trifled with.”
    “I want nothing to do with society.”
    “Precisely. For you to participate in society would mean giving up control. Your power comes from your rejection of the customs and niceties that everyone else is forced to play. You can be a hermit on the prairie and feel superiorto everyone here who has to cooperate and compromise to build relationships. And by your dress you announce that you aren’t to be trifled with, either. Instead of intimidating them with your riches, you keep them at arm’s length by looking untamed and frightening. Unfortunately, where you are concerned, I feel no fear.”
    His smile widened when her eyes turned stormy. So now she knew what