Mary Lou stomped her foot as she said the word.
Jared agreed with her on this point. “The paper is not for sale.”
She persisted. “I’d never sell. Mr. Ivy worked too hard to build the Record to what it is today.”
He seized on her words. “And you said yourself, he built it for my family.”
She glared at him then. “And you didn’t want it!” The vehemence in her words was palpable.
“I didn’t know about it.”
She scoffed. “How could you not know? He wrote you every week. Page after page. He even included a copy of the paper hoping you’d use the schooling he paid for to help him make it better.”
“I’m going to do just that.” His words were as forceful as hers.
Grump had paid for his schooling? He didn’t have the heart to tell this angry woman and the sheriff that he hadn’t known about the letters. That his mother had confessed to burning them without telling him of their existence. Her deathbed confessions about so many things had driven him to return to Pine Haven and finally connect with the only relative he had left. Only now Grump was gone, too. Resentment of his mother’s secretive silence about his father’s family, and the revelation that she’d hidden them from him for the whole of his life, had instilled in him a deep mistrust of women. Mary Lou’s quick move to take ownership of the paper without contacting him echoed his mother’s furtive actions and reinforced that mistrust.
The sheriff twisted his brow in a frown. “Don’t know exactly what to do.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin with one hand. “I reckon the two of you will have to run the paper together until the judge comes to town. He’ll have to sort it out for you.”
“Run it together?” Mary Lou’s protest was incredulous.
“I have no intention of sharing my inheritance with a perfect stranger.” Jared wouldn’t give up the last claim he had to a family connection. He had no living relatives and wouldn’t let what was rightly his slip away from him to pacify a small-town sheriff or placate a woman who had entrenched herself in his grandfather’s life. Possibly for the sole purpose of gaining his fortune at his death.
“It’s not your inheritance.” Mary Lou took a step toward him. “It’s mine. You may be blood kin, but I was the only family Jacob Ivy had for the last eight years.”
The sheriff opened the door. “The two of you can argue all you want. I won’t dispossess either of you. The judge should be through town between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Learn to work together until then.” He stepped through the doorway. “Mr. Ivy, I’d recommend you stay in the rooms upstairs that your grandfather used. Mary Lou lives in the quarters attached to the back of the building.”
“He can’t stay here!” Mary Lou was indignant.
“Sheriff, you have the authority to evict her.” Jared made another attempt to settle the matter today.
“I do, but I won’t be the one to throw an orphaned girl into the street without the judge’s say-so.” He tipped his hat to Mary Lou. “Good day to you both.” And he was gone.
An orphan? Mary Lou was a grown woman. One who could take care of herself. It wasn’t his responsibility to provide her with a home. No self-respecting woman would allow a man to take care of her in such a fashion.
“Oooo, the nerve of that man! He is forever taking the easy road as sheriff.” She stood with her back straight and her fists clenched at her sides. The wrath of Mary Lou Ellison seemed to be a force to be reckoned with.
How would he endure one month with this fiery creature? Much less two?
He’d try a different approach. Perhaps he could reason with her. “Miss Ellison, I appreciate that you were close to Grump. I’m sure he loved you a great deal.”
“He did. And I can tell you he wouldn’t cotton to the way you’re trying to put me out on the street.” She turned on one heel and went back to the work she’d been doing when he’d arrived.
“I’m not trying to put you out on the street. I can give you a handsome sum so you can set yourself up in a nice room somewhere. Enough to get you through until you find work.”
“A few measly dollars so I’ll give you my paper? I am not interested, Mr. Ivy.” She fished through the tray in search of another letter. Nimble fingers slid it into place beside the others.
“It’s not measly. It will be more than a judge will give you when he comes to town and sees the paper is rightfully mine. He could even require you to pay me for the time you refuse to leave.”
“Pay you? I earn my way here. Don’t be surprised when the deed I bring to the judge has him sending you on your merry way. You and your will. A man’s actions speak to who he is. A fair judge will see you as a grandson who only wanted an inheritance. This entire region knows I’ve worked on this paper since I was a schoolgirl. My time under your grandfather’s tutelage will show how close we were.”
“You’ve been here since you were a girl?” Why would Grump take in a young girl?
“Mr. Ivy knew my uncle well. When he got sick, I didn’t know what would happen to me. Before he died, Mr. Ivy promised that he’d take care of me. I’ve been here ever since.”
Was she right? Surely a judge would consider blood kinship when deciding a man’s claim. His grandfather was dead. No other living soul shared his blood. Jared was the end of the Ivy line.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He dipped his head to emphasize the sincerity of his words. He found it difficult to be alone in the world. It must be harder on a woman. Though he’d seen no sign of weakness in this one.
She nodded in response. “Thank you. Losing Mr. Ivy has been the hardest thing I’ve ever faced.”
His head shot up. “Losing Grump? What about your own kin?”
Mary Lou shook her head. “My own kin didn’t want me or love me. Not like Mr. Ivy did.”
“But you said he knew your uncle well.”
“He did. He knew well how little my uncle wanted me in the first place.” She fingered the letter she held in her hand and stared at it as if seeking an answer. “No one ever understood me or was kind to me like your grandfather. It’s a loss I’ll not soon forget.” She cleared her throat and slid the letter into place. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to finish to get the paper ready to print.”
“I’ll need you to show me how to set up the paper.” He took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree near the door. He dropped his hat over the coat and pushed up his sleeves. The sound of tiny letters hitting the floor and scattering caused him to turn around.
“Look what you made me do.” Mary Lou went down on her hands and knees to gather the errant letters.
Jared bent to pick up the composing stick she’d been using to set the letters for the story she was working on. He turned it over in his hand and put it back on the table. “How long will it take to redo this?” He got down on his knees to help her.
“Maybe an
