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“Not in my town.” Just How Dangerous is Charles McIntyre to Naomi?

A Lady in Defiance

Book One

By Heather Frey Blanton Copyright 2012 Heather Blanton

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For a man who had just lost a card game and a building worth who-knew-how-many-thousands of dollars, Naomi saw not a hint of disappointment in Mr. McIntyre’s eyes. Quite the opposite. He looked as jovial as if he had won three thousand dollars. [MCINTYRE LIVES UNDER THE ASSUMPTION THAT EVERYTHING IS UNDER HIS CONTROL, ESPECIALLY IN HIS TOWN. PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL.]

She, on the other hand, was trying desperately to remain calm and collected. The fact that she had just played a hand of cards to determine her and her sisters’ destiny was simply incredible. Using a strategy that had only appeared to be gambling, God had delivered a soon-to-be hotel and restaurant into her hands. She was clear-headed enough to suspect that the particular method of transfer, though, had been more for Mr. McIntyre’s benefit than hers. As they stood and shook hands, she couldn’t help but wonder what plans God had for him. Admittedly, she would enjoy watching the Almighty take this pompous peacock down a peg or two…if she had time to bother with him. [DO YOU REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU MET THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE? FOR SOME, SURE, IT’S LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. FOR MOST THOUGH, THERE ARE BARRIERS THAT HAVE TO COME DOWN. NAOMI IS ONE BIG, WALKING BARRIER.]

“Mrs. Miller, I do hope you find Defiance to your liking.” He covered her hand with his and looked deeply into her eyes. “And please know that I truly want your hotel to be successful. I hope you won’t mind if I’m intimately involved with the details.” [TRANSLATION: YOU’RE WELCOME IN MY TOWN AS LONG AS YOU DO EXACTLY WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO.]

She jerked her hand away and scowled at him. “I’m quite sure my sisters and I can manage without your assistance.”

“Not in my town.” The comment had come through smiling lips, but the look in his dark eyes walked a tightrope between menacing and bewitching. It gave Naomi a chill. “But I’ll try not to be too much of a nuisance,” he promised. Why did she have the feeling she had just made a deal with the devil? What wasn’t he telling her? “Whicker’s Mercantile is the third building from the end of town, on this side. You’ll find it right where the street bends. I originally was going to call it the Elbow Inn,” he shrugged noncommittally, “but I’m sure you’ll choose a more refined name. Ten minutes?” [WHILE MCINTYRE ISN’T A MURDERER, HE’S DONE JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE. ENOUGH TO EARN THE COMPLETE RESPECT OF THE ROUGH-AND-ROWDY RESIDENTS OF DEFIANCE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS BOOK, HE REALLY ISN’T A NICE PERSON, TO SAY THE LEAST. GOD HAS HIS WORK CUT-OUT FOR HIM.]

“We’ll be waiting.”

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