by Jillian Hart
The image of Rayna on the barn floor stuck with him all the way to town—the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her throat marked from a man’s hand, her bodice torn.
It troubled him when the sheriff said sure, he’d go out and talk to her, but he’d seen this before, widows tempting a man for their own benefit. Even if she was telling the truth, what could be done? It was her word against his, and a man’s word carried more weight.
Daniel had called it. He knew nothing would be done to the old man who’d fooled enough folks into thinking him so respectable. It sickened him as he mounted up, the morning air cool with the promise of rain by nightfall. The melody of the school bell tolled from several streets over.
A few schoolboys, big enough to be in the fields, gave a shout and started running, their lunch pails clanging as they charged out of sight.
“Mr. Lindsay?”
He spun his horse around to see Kirk Ludgrin, his books neatly stacked on his slate. “You’d best hurry up or you’ll be late.”
“I don’t care none about bein’ tardy. Sir, I was hopin’ you might have need of a field hand. I know you’ve got a big spread to furrow. You know I work hard, Mr. Lindsay. I could start right now. This morning, if you want.”
“Is that so?” Daniel took his time studying the boy. No, a man in all the ways that counted. “Does your ma know you’re looking for work?”
“No, sir. I told her I was headin’ to school. They took our furniture today. All of it. Next it’ll be the house. I can’t let that happen to my family.”
So straight and honorable. Yeah, he liked this kid. “Go to school, Kirk. You and I will talk later.”
“After school gets out?”
“Come over to my place. I’ll be in the fields.”
“Thanks, sir!” Kirk’s relief was as tangible as the dust he made taking off toward the schoolhouse.
Smiling to himself, Daniel reined his mount to a stop at the side street where the schoolyard was in plain view. Children bundled against the cool morning streamed in while the teacher watched from the covered porch, calling in stragglers.
He nosed his gelding around and headed down the street.
At least Hans was finally asleep, tucked beneath his quilt on his mattress on the floor and lost in dreams. Good ones, she hoped as she drew his door closed and avoided the squeaky board in the middle of the hallway on her way down the hall.
It was baking day, they were almost out of bread. But she’d gotten such a late start, there was no point in it now. Not when she had pressing matters in town to see to and her job tonight. Maybe she’d buy a loaf of bread, enough to see them through until tomorrow, for surely tomorrow would be a less turbulent day.
In the parlor, she tapped out the loose rock with her good hand and reached into the space behind it, found the tin and opened it. The noise as loud as thunder in the empty, echoing rooms. It broke her heart to look, so she turned her back to the space of polished wood floors and wide, comfortable window seats and peered into the tin.
One, two tens left. Twenty dollars. That wouldn’t get her family far. She stole one of the bills and tucked the tin and rock back into place.
Somehow she’d make this last through the rest of the month. If she was careful and nothing unexpected came up—
Horses? Who would be coming to see her at this hour? She followed the sound of steel-shod hooves and ringing harnesses to the window where she recognized Daniel on horseback trotting up the rutted drive. Behind him was a small black horse and buggy—the doc’s buggy.
No, there had to be a mistake. She blinked, but the horse and buggy were still in her driveway, stopped now. Doctor Haskins, his shiny medical bag in hand, climbed down to shake hands with Daniel.
How could he be so presumptuous? She tucked the ten into her skirt pocket, so angry she didn’t know where all her rage came from. At Dayton, at Kol, at Daniel.
Men. That’s who she was angry with. Men who did what they wanted regardless of how it impacted others. Like her. She wasn’t at all sorry she’d thwacked Clay upside the head and she wished she had some weapon of merit—too bad the broom was in the kitchen—because Daniel was way out of line just stepping in as if he had the right to make decisions for her.
She yanked the door open, the wrenching pain in her wrist reminding her she’d have to be gentler with it. But all she saw was Daniel accompanying Doc Haskins up the walkway between her prized rose shrubs, talking like a man who owned the place.
Maybe she was wrong, but it irked the heck out of her.
“Rayna.” Daniel stood tall and mighty and didn’t crack so much as a smile. His hard features were too rugged to be handsome, but when his gaze softened as he studied the arm she was cradling, the fight went out of her.
He didn’t have the right to bring the doc here, but he’d meant well by it.
“Daniel. Doc Haskins. Come in.” She unlatched the screen and stepped back.
“Let me take a look at that arm.” The doc was a kind man, but she couldn’t imagine what this would cost.
Too late now, she gestured to the cushions of the window seat. It was the only place to sit. Every breath, every rustle, every footstep magnified and echoed as the three of them crossed the room. Daniel stood, watching, his hat in his hands, as the doc examined her wrist.
“You might have yourself a bad sprain if you’re lucky. Move your fingers for me.” The doc frowned as he waited for her to comply.
Her fingers didn’t move right away. She fought hard to make a fist. Shooting pain screamed through her wrist and radiated out from the palm of her hand, but she didn’t make a sound. A sprain was better than a break. She could keep her job with a sprain, but with a broken wrist…
No, her boys were depending on her.
She gritted her teeth, ignored the pain and her fingers obeyed.
“A sprain, then, but you’ve got to keep this bandaged, Rayna.” The doc reached into his bag to pull out a thick roll of bandages. “I don’t want you to use this hand for anything but light work. It needs rest to heal.”
“Of course.” Rayna looked sincere.
Daniel knew she wasn’t. He’d seen the wince of pain in her brow and swore he could feel how much she was hurting. But she hadn’t said a thing, and chances were she’d be using that wrist as if it hadn’t been hurt at all.
A woman who’d lost her husband, her livestock and her furniture and knowing her house was next didn’t have time to coddle an injury.
The coffeepot was still on the stove. He lifted the lid—it was still steaming and smelled burned and bitter. Just right.
He searched for a cup in the cupboards and filled it. Sipped long and deep. Stood at the window and studied the best wheat land in Bluebonnet County. Kol had always bragged of it, and Dayton had always commented on it with jealousy.
But it was easy to see—rich fertile land, not a rock in it. Plentiful water come spring, judging by the lay of dry creek beds and the faint glint of a small pond far to the north.
Twice his acreage and the wheat yield from it, hell, he’d seen the thick, tall, healthy crop with his own eyes.
If he’d been able to harvest that wheat, then Rayna would have been able to keep her furniture and her house, and feed her boys for an entire year. Think of what profit Kol had been making every harvest?
This was one fine house, with the best and newest everything. It had to have been easy accumulating so much debt, knowing full well that a good season would pay it off entirely.
Daniel drained the last of the coffee, grimacing with pleasure at the acrid bitterness. It was a harebrained notion he was considering. He’d been resigned to Dayton snapping up this property, but not after this morning. Dayton didn’t deserve this place. He wouldn’t appreciate it. He’d wear it down with his carelessness, the way he’d done his own land, and in time, it would produce less wheat.
And he’d wear down Rayna the same way.
She didn’t accept it yet, but a woman couldn’t suppo
rt her family. It just wasn’t possible. Wages for a woman’s work weren’t high enough. He could hear her telling the doc how she had a job now, cleaning at a boardinghouse in town.
Sure, she could juggle two jobs for a spell, but Daniel had grown up with plenty of children whose mothers had thought the same thing. Then worked themselves to death or close enough.
It took one injury, one sickness, one lost job, and she and her sons would be out on the street. The boys would be free labor for whoever agreed to take them on, and Rayna, she’d be alone and dead inside without her sons.
Yeah, he’d seen that, too. Mothers who worked even harder after losing their children and never being able to get them back. Life was hard and it was unfair.
He poured the last of the coffee into his cup, waiting while Rayna exchanged pleasantries with the doctor, brushing off his concern and seeing him to the door. He started sweating a little when he heard the tap of her gentle gait ring closer until it stopped behind him. He was aware of the swish of her skirts, the cadence of her movements, the way she sighed, sounding frustrated, when he didn’t turn right away to face her.
“You paid the doctor.” It came as an accusation, not shrewish and harsh, but more powerful for the mild way she said it. “I’m sure you meant well, but you’ve done enough for Kol. Consider your favors paid in full. He’s gone and not concerned with whatever you feel you owe him for helping you long ago. And I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Doesn’t look that way to me.”
“I don’t care how it looks. I’m just fine on my own.”
Spoken like a woman who had never seen the life he’d been forced to live. Dark, cruel images he shoved from his mind. She was like those fancy roses in her yard, ordered from England or wherever something so delicate and expensive would come from. Not suited at all for this harsh land.
Just looking at her made that tangle in his chest hurt as though he’d broke every rib. No wonder Kol had accumulated such debt.
A good man would do anything, risk anything, for her happiness. It even got him to thinking…
No, she’d say no if he said anything. Judging by the way she was looking at him, she didn’t think too much of him right now.
“I heard you tell the doc you’ve got a job. Will you be able to work with that wrist?”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” She held her head up high, as if the bandage thick on her wrist and hand didn’t exist.
Pride, he guessed. And it had to be all that was holding her up. “You might have fooled Haskins, but not me. You broke that wrist, didn’t you?”
“You’re wrong.”
It was the way she flurried about, anxious to straighten up the counter that was wiped clean and had only the empty egg basket to be put away. That told him he was right and that he might have a chance after all.
More sweat dampened his palms as he waited for her to return from the pantry, where she took her sweet time dispensing of the egg basket. Giving him the chance to calm down, gaze outside and look at all that good land.
Hell, he might as well go ahead and tell her. “I talked to the bank this morning. Went over Wright’s head. Talked to his boss, one of the owners of the bank.”
Her movements in the pantry froze. “Did they happen to tell you for sure how long I have to move the rest of our things?”
“No, ma’am. But I did explain how well I’ve been doing on my own land. I might have lost this year’s crop, but I’ve been wise with my money. Banking it instead of buying a fancy harvester and newfangled sewing machine for my wife.”
That did it. She marched into the kitchen. “Kol may not have been the best at handling money, but he was a wonderful husband. You’ll not insult his memory in front of me.”
Daniel’s brow drew into deep frown lines as he pivoted from the window to study her, as if seeing her for the first time. “I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful. I only meant to say I’m getting by all right, even losing this year’s harvest.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what she was going to do with all these emotions running wild inside her.
What she needed was sleep and peace from worry, and she knew that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
Either way, Daniel Lindsay didn’t belong in her kitchen or think he would get away with paying for the doc’s visit. She yanked the ten from her pocket and slapped it on the windowsill beside him.
There. “Consider that a down payment. I still owe you another five. I’ll get that to you before day’s end.”
“I’m not expecting you to reimburse me.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I don’t want Dayton to get this land. I don’t want him being in any position to hurt you like that again.” He straightened his shoulders, the movement making him look even bigger. Infinitely dependable.
But he fumbled as he rolled his hat around in his fingers, a nervous gesture. “Dayton isn’t willing to pay more than this land is worth. You know with the failed crop, ranchland in the county has fallen. This property isn’t worth what it was, but if I put my homestead up for collateral against this loan, then the bank will let me take over the payments.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard him right. She sank into the window seat’s soft cushions, her mind spinning. “But I thought you said they wouldn’t. I mean—”
What if by some miracle the bank had had a change of heart? If Daniel could take over this place, then maybe she had a chance to stay here, with the boys. She could rent from Daniel and the boys wouldn’t have to move. She’d still have to work two jobs, but they could keep their lives as normal as possible. Maybe in time she could think about finding a father for them. Maybe even Daniel—
No, not Daniel, she thought, remembering his stinging words, watching his deliberate movements as he took his time laying aside his hat.
“The bank said the account has to be made current by the next payment or they’ll repossess, and there’s a catch.” He knelt in front of her. He looked so grim that she knew it couldn’t be good news. “We have to marry.”
“No. It’s too soon, and I know I can do this. I already have a job and—”
“Rayna.” His broad hand covered hers and engulfed it. There was pain in his eyes. “You have to admit it. You have a broken wrist. How can you work scrubbing floors for a living? That injury is only going to get worse.”
“It’s a sprain.”
“The other relatives didn’t answer you, did they? And they aren’t going to. No one wants to take on the burden of providing for a woman and boys who aren’t their own. I’ve seen it. Women who work themselves into ill health, or death, desperate to keep their families together. I’ve seen it, and I don’t want that to happen to you.”
He didn’t know where the tenderness came from, but it was there, oddly taking root in his heart. She was going to be his woman, his wife, and what in tarnation did he know about taking care of a woman like her?
Not one thing, but he brushed the hair out of her eyes. Lord, it was the softest thing he’d ever felt, and caught a single teardrop on the pad of his thumb.
“You know I’m right.” He said the words kindly, because he meant them that way, and he hated seeing her so defeated. “This is our one chance. For me to buy more land and for you to give your boys a good life. They can stay here and go to school and grow up with their mother home to take care of them.”
She shook her head, more tears falling. “I even thought about marrying again. That’s what Nick Gray down the road did. He married my dear friend Mariah not three weeks after his first wife’s death. He had little children and—”
“It’s an arrangement, that’s all.” What else could it be? Daniel wished he knew what to do with a woman in tears, but he didn’t. Still, he had a strange urge to pull her to his chest, to hold her so she felt safe.
Because that was how he would keep her: safe from this world. “You’ll think about it?”
“I don�
�t see how I can.” She moved away, and it was too late to pull her close, too late to protect her as she made up her mind. “Marriage is so important. It ought to be about love. Real love. The kind that you can hold on to even when you feel like you’re losing everything else.”
She didn’t want him. That stung, but he ought to have expected it. Deep down, he had to admit he never thought she’d accept.
But it was too bad she hadn’t. It would have been nice to live in a dream like this. A fine house, good boys as his stepsons, and Rayna with that smile of hers that was like the only light in a dark place.
It wasn’t meant to be, I guess. He grabbed his hat and there was nothing left to say to the woman standing in the threshold, gazing through the pink mesh screen to the acres of ruined fields.
“Your boys are lucky to have you for a mother. One who loves them so much.”
He saw himself out. His gelding was waiting for him, as if sensing how anxious he was to get the hell away from here. So he wasted no time mounting up.
The squeak of the door stopped him and made him pull the horse around. There Rayna was, coming after him. She went as far as the porch would allow.
When her good hand gripped the railing, her knuckles were white with strain.
“I’ll marry you,” she said as if it were the saddest thing that had happened to her yet.
Chapter Ten
The week had passed quickly and Rayna was grateful her wrist was improving—slow, but sure. She pulled the pot of beans from the oven, wincing when pain streaked through her bandaged wrist, but it took two hands to balance the heavy clay pot. It took two hands to heft the roaster brimming with a quarter of beef from the rack.
Hot grease popped and sizzled on the browned roast as she eased the heavy pan to rest on a trivet.
Her left fingers felt numb and swollen. That couldn’t be a good sign, and she still had a night of work ahead of her. For she intended to work. There was little money, and Daniel’s finances would be stretched taking over the payments on the land and house.
The boys needed winter things, they needed furniture, they just needed.