Her nose twitched with the effort to not glare at the man. Instead, she turned to the hearth for the coffeepot. “All of our kin are back in Tennessee and Indiana. Besides, we have a three-hundred acre ranch.” Her stupid voice wavered. She glanced at the yellow-print tablecloth and matching curtains. Her mother had turned this place into a home. She and Cora had spokenof the day Jeb and Michael would return to it. Now no one was coming home, not even her mother. And how had this conversation gone so wrong? “You… you were going to tell me more about Jeb.”
“I will.” He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. “But before I do, I have other matters to discuss while the boy is at the stables.”
“What kind of matters?” She poured brew into his cup.
“Maybe you’d best sit.”
She filled her own cup and eased down across from him. “Is it about Jeb?”
“Your land.”
“What about it?” She stiffened. “Were you…listening yesterday to my meeting with Mr. Coffin?”
He nodded and cupped his hands around the steaming cup.
Her shoulders tensed. Her father’s shame seemed to bleed into every relationship. “My business with Mr. Coffin isn’t any of your concern.”
“I gave Jeb my word I’d look after you and see that you were well situated.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need looking after.” She squirmed up from the table and grabbed the pan of cornbread. “As I said before, Charlie and I will be all right.” She sliced through the soft, warm treat. This man needed to mind his own business. Thank goodness, Charlie wasn’t in here. He wouldn’t understand her refusal?—
Ben McKenzie cleared his throat. “I paid the debt.”
The knife clunked against the work table. “You did what?” She pivoted to face him.
A lock of dark-brown hair clung to his damp forehead. “I settled the debt.” He slipped a paper from his inner coat pocket.
Her legs wobbled as she took the paper. Mr. Coffin’s signature andpaid in fullwere scrawled across her father’spromissory note. Paid. Coffin no longer had a hold over her. She should drown Ben McKenzie with thank-you’s and make him a beefsteak dinner if only she owned a cow, but her chest tightened. She dropped the paper onto the table as if it had scorched her hand. “I can’t accept this. We’re not able to repay you. It might be years before we?—”
“It’s a gift. For Jeb. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be buried in a shallow grave in Andersonville.”
Jebwasburied in a shallow grave at Andersonville. “I can’t accept such a gift from someone I don’t know.” A thought pricked her. What if this was some trick? Was it possible he was somehow in league with her enemy? “Why were you in Mr. Coffin’s office yesterday?”
“Someone told me I could find you there.” His voice tightened. “I’m not after your land, if that’s what you think.”
She searched his eyes. The sheen of fever, not deceit, seemed to hover there. Was he ill? She touched her collarbone. What was she doing accusing Jeb’s friend?
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Today was the first time I met Mr. Coffin. A rather unpleasant experience. He was reluctant to let go of his opportunity to nab the property, but he accepted the money in the end.” He puffed out the last words as if he were having trouble breathing.
Three hundred dollars. This man had paid three hundred dollars to help her and Charlie. She sank onto her chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. It’s just that we can’t pay you back?—”
“A gift, I said.”
What if this was the Lord’s answer to her prayer? Better to sell the land to Jeb’s friend than Coffin. “I know what. Monday morning, I’ll meet you in town at the courthouse and sign over half of the ranch to you. It’ll be yours as an investment.”
His shoulders sagged. “I’m not after your land, Miss Scott.”
“But you surely can’t intend to just hand over five hundred dollars and walk away.”
His voice firmed. “I’m not leaving Texas until I know your finances and means of provision are secure.”
“But don’t you have a life to get back to across the Mississippi?”
“I have a promise to fulfill first.”
She stared at him. If she met this dark-haired, hazel-eyed stranger at a barn-raising, she’d more than fancy a dance, but she didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for her, no matter how fine-looking he was. “I appreciate your concern. But I can look after Charlie and me. I was doing that long before Pa passed away.” Days when her pa couldn’t even get off the floor to make it into bed. Months when her wages as a clerk in the mercantile barely paid their room and board.
Ben McKenzie pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at her as if she was some school child who kept writing on her chalkboard that two plus two equals five. “I beg your pardon Miss Scott, but I respectfully disagree. You might have managed while you were in Weatherford?—”
