Montana Wife. Jillian Hart
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There she was—he could see her through the wide front windows at the postal counter window. Looking composed, she counted out change from her reticule, exchanged a polite nod to the postmaster and headed for the door.
One thing she couldn’t hide were the circles beneath her eyes. They were so bruised, she looked as if she’d been hit. The strain showed on her face and in the curled ball of her fists.
She saw him through the glass door, the bell jangling as she walked through it. Frowning at him as he held the door, she said, “Mr. Lindsay. I’d hoped to see you next. Seeing you here saves me a ride out to your place.”
“I noticed you on the boardwalk.” This was business, nothing more, but that didn’t explain the return of the emotions aching like arthritis beneath his ribs. “I spoke to Wright at the bank. What I have to say isn’t easy. Maybe you’d want a more private place—”
“The bank is my next stop. It’s best to say what’s on your mind.” Along the side wall of the mercantile she spotted an empty bench washed in the wan sunlight that speared through the gray streaks of the clouds above. “Shall we sit?”
“Sure.”
Good. It was a start. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Oh, she was overset with all this worry. She was depending so much on his ability to purchase the ranch. The mountain of debt was staggering.
If he could buy the place, it would be the best solution. He’d certainly earned the right, he would be good to the land and she couldn’t think of a more deserving rancher. Anticipating Mr. Lindsay’s answer, she settled on the rough wooden bench.
All she had to do was to glance up into his face. His honest face. But he wasn’t smiling, and surely that was a poor sign indeed. His dark eyes were troubled, and she knew. While he didn’t say a word, the last smidgen of hope died along with the last of the sunlight.
“The banker would not accept my offer.”
“I see.” A cold gust of wind left her catching her breath. “That’s too bad. I think Kol would have approved of you farming the land. He’d always thought well of you.”
“And I of him.” Towering over her, a long, lean man in a black overcoat, he seemed as bleak as the rain that began to fall. As severe as the days ahead to come. “You haven’t heard what I have to say.”
“I already know. There are notes on everything. The house, the land, the livestock. The buggy. There is no chance of coming out with cash in hand. It’s obvious, but somehow I had been hoping—”
“I was hopeful, too. There is too much debt on the land. I cannot buy it for the total of what is owed. It would be beyond what cash I could fork over.”
“Of course, it would be a poor investment for you. What will happen when the bank takes it?”
“Likely there will be an auction. The land will go to the highest bidder.”
“You’d do better to try then.”
“I’m likely to have stiff competition. Dayton, for one, has his eye on it.”
“Yes, and a half dozen others.” To think that was to come of the life she and Kol had built. That it could disappear as suddenly as he had vanished from her life. That other people would live in their home. Another man would till and harvest their fields.
And Kol had let it happen.
She tamped down her anger. She couldn’t bear grieving him and being furious at him, too. She’d give anything to be able to hold him in her arms, debt or no. And it was impossible, of course, and her arms felt so empty. Her heart wrung dry.
She did her best to clear the lump of emotion from her throat. “I would like to offer you the load of wheat we managed to save.”
“I’ll sell it for you.”
“No. I meant to give it to you. You lost your crop, as well, and of the two of us, it’s my hope that at least you can remain on your land.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I will take the wheat.”
“Oh, thank you.” Why that seemed to lift away a part of her burdens, she couldn’t say. But it felt right to cancel out the obligation she felt to this man.
No, she wouldn’t be beholden to any man. Look at how Dayton had viewed a woman’s need. Shivering, forcing the ugliness from her mind, she clutched her reticule, stood and smoothed her skirts.
Daniel Lindsay looked ten times more muscular than her rude neighbor did, and Daniel gave the impression of a good and upright man. Yet it wasn’t right to be in his debt. She had enough debt to handle as it was. “Please come and fetch the wheat when you can. Perhaps tomorrow, after a good night’s rest. You look as exhausted as I feel.”
“I wish I could’ve done more, ma’am. If you need money—”
“No!” She answered too quickly, startling them both. Seeming so rude. And how wrong that was, when he was only being kind, she was sure of it. “I only mean, I have enough to get by on for now. You have repaid Kol’s kindness twofold already.”
“It’s my opinion I have not.”
“There is nothing more to be done, Mr. Lindsay.” She gripped her reticule so tightly, her knuckles hurt. “Good day to you, sir.”
With all the composure she possessed, she walked carefully away from the tall, somber man watching after her. One foot placed in front of the other until the boardwalk led her to the busy corner.
Over the din from the busy street, she swore she could hear him call her name, but when she turned, he was gone from the corner.
It was just as well. Daniel Lindsay had his life. And her future…why, it lay in an unknown direction. For the first time in fifteen years, she was truly on her own.
Alone, she crossed the street. Marched right up to the front door of the bank and didn’t let her terror lead her as she lifted her chin, pushed wide the door and asked for Mr. Wright. She waited, fighting the cold trembles that were taking root in the pit of her stomach.
How long would the process take? Would she be allowed to take the savings from the bank without Kol, for the account was in his name? Wondering what on earth she would do if she couldn’t, she saw a familiar pinto passing by the side windows and she twisted in her chair to watch the man riding the mustang.
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