Nick's whole body hurt, but it was his eyes that had the hardest time focusing. Dr. Caleb West told him it was because he had a concussion. Apparently, Nick's brain was jarred when Jakeson was using him as a punching bag. Dr. West told Nick that he'd start feeling better soon. But Nick was an impatient man, and he didn't want to wait to feel better. He had that blasted outlaw to capture.

Voices from out in the hallway drifted into the room where Nick waited for the doctor to return and release him. Dr. West instructed Nick to get some rest. He knew the longer he rested, the further away his outlaw would run.

Shifting his legs to the side of the bed, Nick struggled to stand. Once he was on his feet, his wobbly legs threatened to collapse. The room spun around him slowly at first, then gradually grew faster. He braced his hands on the wall and closed his eyes. He must fight this feeling. Getting well quickly was a top priority.

A woman's gasp ripped through the room. "Nicholas Drake, what in the blazes are you doing?"

Nick felt the woman's arms move around his waist before he had the chance to open his eyes and look at her. Lydia Swanson was still here? Why? She and her friend had been on their way to Libby, yet once they found him, Lydia instructed her friend to take Nick back to Stumptown and to Dr. West's office.

Keeping his gaze on her concerned face, he let her help him back to the bed. Even though his vision was slightly blurred, he still could see enough of her to remember how lovely she was. But he also recalled her stubborn temperament.

"Miss Swanson, you don't need to treat me like an invalid. I appreciate your help, but I don't need it."

Once she had pulled the blanket over his legs, she straightened and folded her arms. "Are you trying to be humorous, Agent Drake?"

"Not at the moment. Why do you ask?"

"Because, if I recall, those are the very words I'd said to you when you tried to help me after I'd caught my sister kissing my soon-to-be husband."

It hurt his head to think about what had happened a month ago, but she was right. He had tried to offer his assistance, and she'd rudely turned him away just as he was doing to her now. "Forgive me, Miss Swanson, but you're correct. However, I wasn't trying to be humorous. I assure you, I can get in and out of bed by myself."

"Really?" She cocked her head and narrowed her gaze on him. "That's why your face lost color, and you were braced against the wall as if you expected it to hold you up?"

Nick grumbled under his breath. Leave it to Lydia to point out that she was right and he was wrong. Again. "I'm trying to regain my strength. I have work to do. I can't stay in this bed any longer."

"Well, Dr. West told you—"

"Miss Swanson?" He stopped her. "Have you become the doctor's assistant?"

"Of course not."

"I didn't think so." He nodded. "So, until that happens, please refrain from telling me what I can and cannot do."

She glared, and her pretty gray eyes darkened. "Agent Drake," she said in a tight voice, "I made a promise, and until I feel I've completed that promise, I'm going to be your nursemaid whether you want me to or not."

His head pounded harder. "What promise are you referring to?"

Sighing heavily, she lifted her chin stubbornly. "After you had... um, comforted me a month ago, I told you – while still in your arms, mind you – that I appreciated your kindness, and one day I would return it." She shrugged. "Today is that day."

He honestly couldn't remember that moment. Of course, he recalled comforting her, which had turned out far better than he'd expected, and he hadn't been able to stop thinking about that time with her. However, he didn't remember her saying that to him. Was it while he was still kissing her? If so, that would explain why her words hadn't registered in his memory since he was busy doing other things.

"I'm glad to know you are a woman who follows through on her promises. But Miss Swanson, I really don't need your help. I free you from your obligation."

"You cannot just free me." She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't work that way. I have to be the one to free myself, and I won't do it. Not until I'm satisfied that I've repaid you for comforting me."

Nick shifted in the bed. "I don't understand why you want to help me. Have you forgotten how much you hate me?"

She nodded. "I'll admit that I don't think highly of you, and because of that, it'll be harder to help when you're this cranky, but that's not going to stop me. As you remember, I can be stubborn."

A laugh sprang from his throat even though it hurt his head to do so. "Oh, I remember." He rubbed his chin. "You have a mean right hook."

She arched an eyebrow. "And don't you forget it."

"No, Miss Swanson, I never will."

"Now," she stepped away from his bed, looking at the washbasin, "do you need me to get you anything?"

"Yes."

She glanced back at him. "What is that, Agent Drake?"

"Privacy."

Her heart-shaped mouth tightened into a thin line. Keeping her chin up and her shoulders straight, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Nick breathed a relieved sigh. Somehow he needed to convince her to return to her friend and leave him alone. He knew Lydia Swanson well enough to know how sweet and loving she could be while in his arms, but when she was upset... watch out!

* * * *

What had she been thinking?

Lydia marched out of the doctor's office and stopped. She scanned the area, getting her bearings again. She hadn't been here since her sister married Alan Cartwright, and Lydia had to remember where the newlywed couple lived.

Irritation grew inside her. Lydia hated how Agent Drake could make her madder than a bull who'd just been kicked in the keister. Why had she made that promise to him in the first place? Had it been the way his blue eyes melted her when he gazed at her while they had passionately held each other? Or maybe it was how his sultry kisses had been branded into her mind. But she wasn't a woman who went back on her word. If only she could forget about that time over a month ago in the thicket of trees when he comforted her.

Going on instinct, she walked up the street. Although it was a gorgeous afternoon with no clouds to hide the sun's heat, not many people were out and about. Four hefty men headed in the same direction carrying axes. Lydia had known this was a logging town, which was why she had originally wanted to be a mail-order bride. Surely, there would be someone here that would want to marry her. Perhaps she ought to try again to be a bride. Living in Stumptown would put her closer to her older sister, and she would like that. Of course, Lydia would have to see if the town had a milliner shop where she could work.

From up the street, a lovely woman with long, brown hair walked toward Lydia. The woman's steps slowed as she ran her gaze over Lydia. Soon, the woman's smile widened as she headed toward Lydia.

"Good day," the woman greeted, moving in front of Lydia, stopping her progress.

"Good afternoon." Lydia smiled. The other woman didn't appear to be much older than her.

"You probably don't remember me. I'm Hannah Easton. We met at your sister's wedding."

Chuckling lightly, Lydia tried to recall the woman from the wedding. However, Lydia had met many people that day. "I remember your last name, but I fear I can't place you."

Hannah's smile widened. "I'm Maverick Easton's wife. He and his brothers are good friends with Alan Cartwright."

Lydia didn't have the heart to inform the other woman that almost everyone at the wedding was friends with Alan. "Well, it's good to see you again."

"Are you here visiting your sister?" Hannah's gaze moved to the doctor's office, and her pleasant expression turned worried. "She's not ill, is she?"

Lydia shook her head. "Victoria is fine. I actually came to Stumptown because I ran across Agent Drake, who had been beaten and left in the road. I'd met him when... um, I was here last." She wasn't sure how much of the real story the town knew about Victoria and Alan, but Lydia wasn't going to say anything to cause gossip.

Hannah gasped. "Nicholas was beaten?"

"Yes, but he's resting at Doctor Caleb's office."

"And you found him on the road?" Hannah touched Lydia's arm. "What in Heaven's name happened to him?"

"He was tracking an outlaw and got caught." Lydia frowned. "I'm grateful the outlaw didn't decide to kill Agent Drake, instead."

"Oh, the poor man." Hannah's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You must be an angel to have saved him."

Lydia's stomach twisted. Angel? Nicholas would not refer to her in that manner. In fact, she was sure he thought her a devil, instead. "I was just passing on the road and noticed him. I'm certain anyone would have found him and brought him here."

"But not everyone has a kind heart." Hannah smiled tenderly.

"Thank you." When it came to Agent Drake, Lydia didn't think she had a kind heart at all. The only reason she showed an ounce of kindness was because of that ridiculous promise she'd made him.

"Miss Swanson," Hannah said, "may I ask you a personal question?"

Lydia held her breath briefly. She prayed the question wasn't too personal. "Um... I suppose."

"Are you married?"

A laugh sprang from Lydia's mouth before she could stop it. "No."

Hannah's eyebrows lifted. "Would you like to be?"

Lydia's face grew hot, and she was sure she looked horrendous with a red face.

"The reason I ask," Hannah continued, "is because I'm sure you're aware that there aren't many women who live in this wonderful town. I'm actually helping our lonely lumberjacks to find matches."

Lydia snorted a laugh but wished she had held it in. "You're a matchmaker?"

Hannah's smile relaxed. "Yes. I help arrange mail-order bride marriages."

Although Lydia didn't want to become too excited about meeting a matchmaker, she did want to marry and be happy like Victoria was with Alan.

"Are you interested?" Hannah asked.

Lydia shrugged. "I will have to think about it. I'll let you know."

"Of course." Hannah stepped back. "Please let me know. I'm sure I could find you a wonderful man to marry. My husband knows all the loggers, and he helps me match them to the right woman."

"Then I shall really think about it." Lydia sighed, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"It was good seeing you again, Miss Swanson."

"And you too, Mrs. Easton." As Hannah moved away, Lydia placed her hand on the woman's arm, stopping her. "Before you go... I'm lost. Can you point me the way to the hotel?"

"Hotel?" Hannah narrowed her gaze. "You don't want to stay with your sister?"

Lydia shook her head. "Although it would be lovely, I fear I would be a burden to her since she is newly married."

Hannah chuckled and linked her arm with Lydia's. "I can do one better. The hotel is on the way to where I'm headed, so we can walk together. That will give me time to tell you about some of the incredibly interesting men we have in Stumptown."

Lydia grinned. It would be difficult to dislike this woman. She was bubbly and so kind. Lydia received the impression that she had gained her first friend in this town, and it felt nice.