Montana Wife

Maybe what was important was what the banker had failed to say. Maybe they had another buyer who was willing to use his land as collateral to assume the debt. Daniel had no doubt as to whom. There was only one man prosperous enough in these parts. Dayton.

Damn it. Daniel stared at the buggy and drowsing horses and saw red. Boiling hot rage blinded him and he wanted to turn heel and march into that bank and say the land wasn’t foreclosed yet. It was good, fertile land, the best wheat land in the county, and to own it was more than a humble man could hope to do in an honest lifetime. Why not see if he could make a better deal with the bank?

No, that would be a poor decision. He couldn’t go off half cocked and make a bigger mess of things. He had his land free and clear, good, productive land, horses, his own secondhand thresher and, best of all, no debt.

Debt was a foolish man’s solution, and could turn into quicksand fast enough. Dragging down a man until there was no hope left. He’d seen too many farmers lose everything because they’d rather borrow than do without.

No, he wouldn’t lose his independence. He refused to risk everything he’d sweated blood for. Lucky for him, he had time. The bank had yet to foreclose. That would take time, and he’d have the chance to think this all through. Take a look at his options.

“Hey, Lindsay.” That caustic sneer could belong to only Dayton.

Stomach tight, muscles bunched, Daniel spotted the man he’d come to dislike, breaking through the tangle of a half dozen women gazing at the front window of some dress shop. Typical, how Dayton expected folks to make way for him without so much as a courteous, “Excuse me.” Dayton was the kind of man who got Daniel’s hackles up.

The kind of man he’d come to despise in his life and with good reason. He’d worked for too many men just like him growing up.

Be civil. As hard as that was going to be, he might as well try jumping to the moon. “Dayton. Tough storm.”

“Yep. Wheat’s a total loss, but I got investments to fall back on.” Dayton hitched up his shoulders, the gesture of a man pleased with his high self-opinion.

An opinion Daniel didn’t share. With a low word, he reassured his gelding as he came up to him and loosened his reins from the post.

“Noticed you sniffin’ around the Widow Ludgrin’s skirts.” Dayton sent a stream of tobacco juice into the mud. “She’s one fine-looking woman.”

“It’s not my habit to covet another man’s wife.”

“She’s a widow now, my boy, and you know what that means. A woman without a man to protect her. Or satisfy her. Too bad all that wheat land of hers is mortgaged. Not worth the paper owed on it. Guess you know that.”

“Didn’t know that was any of your concern.”

Dayton didn’t have the grace ethic to be ashamed. A cat’s grin twisted his features. “I’m just lookin’ out for the widow’s well fare.”

Yeah, he could see what was on the man’s greedy mind. Daniel swung into the saddle. “I’m not a betting man, but I’d stake my horse on Mrs. Ludgrin. She strikes me as the type of woman who can take care of herself.”

“Rayna? Nah, she’s a pampered little thing. She’ll be on the lookout for a man to take care of her. And mind you, boy, she won’t be wanting to spend her attentions on a Confederate mutt. She’s used to being spoilt, and she’ll go with the man who can give her what she wants.”

Was Dayton talking about himself? He was a married man. Daniel watched in disgust as the older man shot a final stream of brown juice into the street. With a self-righteous wink that looked suspiciously like a leer, Dayton glanced down the boardwalk at something catching his attention—a young and pretty woman.

Yeah, there’s another reason I don’t trust you. Daniel reined his horse around, anger boiling inside him. What was it the old man had said about Rayna? That she was a woman without a man to protect her. Or satisfy her.

What was Dayton thinking—that the new widow would award her affections to the first man to come along and help her keep her house? Rage blew through him like steam through a whistle, and he sent his gelding into the busy street.

Sure, he didn’t really know much about Rayna Ludgrin, but the time spent lately in her presence told him one thing. With the way she’d tried to harvest her crop with a hand scythe, she was a woman not prone to taking the easiest path. She had character and fortitude.

As if his thoughts had conjured her, there she was on the boardwalk in front of the mercantile. Was it his imagination, or did she stand out among the other women hurrying on their errands?

Her wool coat was a plain tan color and finely tailored to show the dainty curves and tiny waist and the flare of her skirts. The pointed toes of her polished brown shoes peeked out from beneath the ruffled hem of a fine black dress. Maybe it was the way she walked, even in mourning, that spoke of dignity.

His heart clutched in his chest with sorrow for her losses, that’s what this emotion was. He’d been alone all his life, and he wasn’t a man of Dayton’s ilk that lusted after a woman, so it couldn’t be a desire for her that he was feeling. She was newly widowed and vulnerable. He wasn’t about to let his thoughts go there.

But he did recognize something in her that he struggled with every day—the feeling of being alone in the world, alone to shoulder responsibilities. He knew something about that. In fact, it was all he knew.

But it had to be a new experience for her.

Did he go to her? See if she needed something? Tell her what he’d learned at the bank? Or would that be too forward, here in town, where rumors might spread? It was the way of some people, he thought, remembering how Dayton had suggested any widow’s morals were easily compromised.

Speaking of the old devil—there he was. Ambling down the boardwalk as if he owned it. Dressed in his Sunday finest, he raked his fingers through his thinning hair, donned his hat and squared his thin shoulders in what he must have thought was a dashing gesture.

Maybe some folks would be fooled and take him for a moneyed gentleman, but not Daniel. He could taste the dislike souring his tongue as he watched Dayton spot Rayna Ludgrin as she chatted with another woman on the boardwalk. She was obviously receiving condolences from an acquaintance. Her face when she spotted Dayton striding toward her changed from sad to wary.

At least she wasn’t fooled by the older man’s spit and polish. Daniel leaned back on the reins, nosing his mount out of the way so he could keep an eye on things. He couldn’t help feeling protective toward the widow. It was too bad the clatter of wagons and the drum of hooves on the busy street made too much noise for him to hear what Dayton said to Rayna. But there was no missing how tight she set her jaw as she nodded curtly to Dayton and slipped into the nearest store.

Dayton knuckled back his hat, emitted a look of great satisfaction and headed off toward the alley.

What had that lowlife said to her? A bad feeling settled like a lead ball in his gut. He dismounted, wrapped one of the reins around the closest post and hopped onto the boardwalk.

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.”