was trying to be businesslike, but that gentle voice and those wide hazel eyes made it nearly impossible for her to seem so serious. Still, he nodded. Even if he hadn’t felt so guilty over her loss, he would have stepped in. The Good Book said that a husband and wife were partners in life, but it had become clear that Lucas Bennett hadn’t shared a bit about ranching with his mail-order bride. Hank had had to help her make decisions as if he were the boss. Still, if it hadn’t been for Nancy Bennett, he would likely have been making plans to ride away after the roundup.
Since he’d shaken the dust of Waco off his boots five years ago, he’d never worked on any ranch long. Moving on was the best way not to get attached to folks who would only end up expecting more from him than he was able to give. He’d never found a way to please his family, had lost the one woman he’d thought to marry. What made him think others would be any more willing to take him as he was?
“From what you told me,” she continued, “this ranch has every chance of succeeding. Unfortunately, the bank thinks otherwise.”
He frowned. “Bank, ma’am? I was under the impression Mr. Bennett owned this spread outright. You shouldn’t have to worry about a mortgage.”
Were those tears brimming in her eyes? Something inside him twisted even as his hands tightened on the brim of his hat.
“I didn’t think I had anything to worry about,” she said, peach-colored lips turning down. “Lucas told me he originally came here to build this ranch on property his family owned. His father gave it to him after Lucas married me. But apparently Lucas thought we needed money.” She opened her fingers to show Hank a crumpled piece of paper there. “Billy brought back the mail from town. We had a letter from the Empire Bank in Burnet. Lucas took out a loan from there a month ago.”
A month ago? But that made no sense. Sometimes ranchers had to take loans right before roundup if a well went dry or a tornado tore down a barn. They knew they’d soon have money from the sale of their cattle to pay what they owed. There’d been no such disaster on the Windy Diamond. And Lucas Bennett had been thieving. Surely he’d had money enough. Why take out a loan?
“What are their terms?” he asked. “Might be enough in the ranch account to pay it off.”
She shook her head. “I sent word to the clerk in Little Horn after Mr. Bennett left us. There’s little money in the ranch account, barely enough to pay wages this quarter. Small wonder Lucas took out a loan.”
She was giving the fellow credit Hank refused to allow. If her husband had drawn money from the bank, it hadn’t been for anyone’s benefit but his own.
“Best we ask for time to pay it off,” he advised.
“We had time,” she said. “Lucas had six months to repay the loan, but the bank is calling it in now. It seems they have no faith in my ability to run a ranch. See?”
Hank stepped up to her side then and took the note from her, fighting the urge to take her in his arms, as well. If ever a woman needed comforting, it was her. Come all this way to marry, try to make a life with a stranger, and then discover the fellow was a noaccount rustler. What had Lucas Bennett been thinking to jeopardize not only his spread but his marriage?
He glanced at the note. It was politely worded, expressing condolences on her loss, explaining the bank’s policy, the bankers’ need to be fiscally responsible. What about responsibility for neighbors, kindness to widows and orphans? With this sort of threat hanging over her head, what choice did she have?
He handed her back the letter, careful not to touch her fingers in the process. “Maybe it’s for the best, ma’am,” he said, throat unaccountably tight. “You weren’t always happy here.”
“I was becoming happy,” she said, gaze going off toward the hills. “I was trying. And then everything changed.”
She bit her lip again, to hold back harsh words or tears for the husband who had left her in such a bad way, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t help reaching out and touching her hand. It felt so small, so fragile. Yet when he’d been hurting, her hands had cradled his broken arm even as she’d taken away his pain.
“You could do what cowboys generally do,” he suggested. “Move on, start fresh. If you sell the place, you could pay the bank and still have money to live elsewhere.”
Her hand returned to her belly. “No, I need to stay here, keep the ranch, for...for the future.”
He stiffened, staring at her hand, at the gentle swell beneath it. The other cowpokes might tease him about his ability to read a heifer—when one was content, when one was yearning, when one was ailing. A feeling would come over him, and he’d know. Call it intuition, experience or the Lord’s leading. He’d only been wrong once.
And right now, a feeling was coming over him about Nancy Bennett. Unless his senses didn’t work as well when applied to females—and he had cause to know they’d failed spectacularly with a certain lady back in Waco—Nancy Bennett had a reason for wanting to keep the ranch.
She was pregnant. He’d not only cost her a husband, but he’d cost her unborn child a father.
She turned her gaze on him. “I thought if I could convince the bank I can care for this ranch, they might give me more time to pay. I need your help, Mr. Snowden. I want you to stay on as foreman. I won’t be able to pay you what you’re worth, not at first, but if we can get our cattle to market, that will change. And I need you to do something even more challenging, I need you to teach me everything you know.”
If he was any kind of smart he’d refuse. He could feel her expectations, her hope, hemming him in more surely than a barbed wire fence. And he wasn’t sure teaching her to run a ranch was such a good idea. Ranching was tough, hard work, work he’d just as soon spare this kind, gentle lady.
Yep, if Hank was smart, he’d thank her kindly for her faith in him, refuse her proposal, fetch his gear and his horse Belle and ride on out of here.
But he’d never claimed to be smart. And how could he turn away from an innocent woman and her babe who needed his help?
“Glad to be of assistance, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll stay as long as you need me, do whatever you want.”
And hope his efforts would finally put his conscience to rest.
He’d agreed to stay. Nancy felt as if she could draw a deep breath for the first time in weeks. She was ready to learn more about this ranch, about the gigantic cattle that roamed it and would provide a living for her and her baby. And she intended to start as soon as possible.
So, she rose even earlier than usual the next morning and dressed in her sturdiest outfit. The heavy brown twill was beginning to feel tight, though the cinnamon-colored jacket over the white cotton bodice was as comfortable as always. Sombrero covering her hair, she met her boys coming out of the barn just as the sun was breaking over the hills behind the house to the staccato serenade of a flock of warblers.
Mr. Snowden was the first to catch her gaze as she approached. Handing the reins of his horse to Mr. Upkins, he hurried to meet her. Those blue eyes looked darker in the golden light, and his face was tight. “Is everything all right, ma’am?”
His gaze roamed over her as if
