or after you practically steal the wheat from me and my sons?”
“Rayna.” As if pained, Dayton shook his head as he backed away. “This is a pity, it sure is, how a pretty woman like you won’t face the truth.”
“What truth?”
“There’s no shame in it. It ought to be hard to lose your man. But you have to accept it. You can sell now while you can get out with some cash in hand, or you can struggle until you go broke, or you and I can arrange a deal.”
“No deal.”
“Listen to me. The bank’s gonna take this place out from under you. I’m the only one around here with enough cash in hand to stop them. The only one who cares.”
The bank? A horrible flitter of fear bore into her midsection. Why would Dayton mention the bank? And why was he looking at her as if she were for sale right along with the land?
There was no mortgage on this property and she knew it. Her dear Kol would have told her if he’d done something like borrow against their hard-earned homestead. They’d had the best harvests three summers in a row, and there was no reason for Kol to have gone into debt.
Dayton was just trying to intimidate her into selling. Make her uncertain so she would practically give him some of the best wheat land in all of Bluebonnet County. That was all.
Fresh anger roared through her. Where was his charity, his neighborliness?
“Ma! I’m back from town.” Kirk’s awkward gait thudded on the porch as he lumbered to a stop behind Dayton. “Uh, excuse me for interrupting.”
He was such a good boy, practically a young man, always remembering his manners. He looked so like Kol with his white-blond hair and jewel-blue eyes, and with the promise of strength in his rangy limbs. Pride surged through her, another raw emotion displacing the sudden anger at Dayton.
First grief, anger and now pride. All in a few minutes’ time! What an untidy mess she had become. If Kol were here, he would gently wrap his powerful arms around her and draw her to his barrel chest and tickle her forehead with his beard until she laughed.
“Now, Rayna,” she could hear him say as if he were in the room right along with her. “Life is a muddle, we all know that, so take a deep breath and stop all your fussing. There’ll always be plenty enough time for worrying later, but not nearly enough time for loving. So, give me a kiss, my love.”
Kol, I need you.
Her heart cried out for him, as if her feelings could have enough power to summon him up from the next room or wherever he had gone off to.
That’s how it felt, as if her beloved husband were somewhere close, just out of sight. As if any moment he’d be walking through the kitchen door with dirt on his boots and sweat on his brow, calling out for her.
“Rayna?” Dayton seemed alarmed. “Are you all right? I can fetch the doctor.”
“I’m fine. Just—” Missing my husband. She lifted her chin, tamping down the grief far enough so she could finish her day’s work. She didn’t want her oldest son to be worried. “I’m just thinking. I’m not interested in your offer. Goodbye. Come in, son. Where’s the part?”
Kirk looked uncertain as Dayton filled the space in front of the door, refusing to leave.
Rayna motioned her son inside and closed the door, although the windows were thrown wide-open to catch some hint of a breeze. She could hear Dayton’s slow steps as he paced the porch.
Fine, let him pace. He would eventually tire and leave. She would not sell the only home her boys knew.
She led the way to the kitchen, where the Regulator wall clock marked the time—a few minutes more until the final batch of bread was ready.
“Mr. Kline wouldn’t give me the part.” Only fourteen, Kirk planted his feet like a man, held out his hands the way Kol would have done, a stance of dignity. “He said I couldn’t put any more charges on our account. He needed cash.”
“How rude of him. Did you try the hardware—”
“I went everywhere. They all said no. I can whittle a piece after I get done working tonight. We’ll make do.” Kirk fisted his hands, trying to look strong and dependable. “I’d best get out in the fields. I’ve got wheat to cut.”
He was too young to be forced into a man’s responsibilities. Still, she was proud of him. “You won’t be harvesting alone. Mr. Lindsay was kind enough to bring his harvester.”
“For what price?”
“For free. Mr. Lindsay is doing us a fine thing, helping us.”
“Pa’s friends should have done that. He paid his share for the new harvester Mr. Dayton bought and he—” Anger left him searching for words.
It was the grief behind the anger, Rayna knew. It was a hard truth that in this world, people were not often just. Some people did rise to the occasion.
“We have a true friend in Mr. Lindsay.” Careful of her bandages, she sliced off a thick piece of warm bread for Kirk to snack on. “The butter crock’s on the table. Wait, let me cut a few more to take with you. Perhaps Mr. Lindsay is hungry.”
“I’ll fill the water jug on the way.” Kirk dug a knife from the sideboard’s top drawer. “Ma, I heard what Mr. Dayton said. How are we gonna do all the work without Pa? Will the bank take our house?”
“Don’t you worry. Your father would never have put us in a bad position. You remember that. He loved us. We will manage just fine. I’ll find a way.”
“I can help. I can take care of all the animals and the haying. I can do that by myself without any neighbors helping.”
He took the bread slices she offered, wrapped in a clean cloth, and added them to the lunch pail he’d retrieved along with the butter crock. “I heard you crying last night, Ma. I know you’re sad. But don’t you worry. I’m a man. I can take care of you.”
“I know you can.” Rayna resisted the urge to call him her sweetie and press a kiss to his brow.
Her son was growing up. Emotion ached in her throat as she watched him sprint through the back door. The screen slammed shut in his wake, echoing through the kitchen.
As if nothing had changed, she turned to the stove, mentally listing what she would need to prepare a big supper tonight. Kol would be hungry from working all day in the fields—
The air rushed from her lungs. She leaned against the counter, dizzy. She’d thought of Kol out of habit, from years of cooking for him.
He’s gone, Rayna. You have to accept it. You have to stop thinking that he’s next door or at town or on his way home. It should be simple, but it wasn’t. His chair was tucked in its place at the table. His favorite plaid shirt hung on the peg by the door.
She fought the urge to snap up the garment and hug it tight, to breathe in his scent still clinging to the fabric. As if that could bring back all that she’d lost.
Kol wouldn’t
