“She’s not,” Matthew said.
Durham didn’t speak for a moment, and Sophia prayed it was working. That he’d give up and leave.
“Then I want the land. What’s left of the moneyandyour land, Canton,” Durham finally said.
“You can’t have that!” Miss Timperman appeared from around the office door. “That’s mine. Mine and Matthew’s, when we marry. You promised me.” She narrowed her eyes at Mr. Durham.
Sophia gaped at the woman’s utter gall—both at stepping forward into this fray and at her continuing insistence that Matthew would marry her. And yet she almost felt bad for the woman at the same time. It was one thing to be jealous, and quite another to feel so desperate as to partner up with a man like Mr. Durham.
“What did he promise you?” Matthew asked, lowering his hands some.
When she didn’t answer, Mr. Durham spoke up. “She thinks you’ll marry her once your wife has nothing left to her name. Although it appears she already has nothing left . . . perhaps that’s why she was headed out of town. You’d already sent her packing.” The note of glee in Durham’s voice grated on Sophia. How dare he presume such a thing?
“I did no such thing,” Matthew said. “I don’t know what Miss Timperman told you, but I certainly didn’t marry Sophia for her money.”
“Hetold me you would marry me once she lost her money.” Miss Timperman pointed at Mr. Durham, who shrugged in response.
He didn’t care a whit about Miss Timperman, that much was clear. Perhaps . . .
“Miss Timperman,” Sophia said, desperate to pull away from Mr. Durham but not wanting to risk him using that gun. “Daisy.” She tried to communicate with the other woman with her eyes, but Daisy’s gaze swept from Sophia back to Mr. Durham.
“You promised me.” Miss Timperman glared at Mr. Durham.
“I don’tcarewhat I told you,” he said, sounding more exasperated at Miss Timperman than he had at Sophia’s refusal to ask the bank clerk to withdraw her money. He turned back to Matthew. “After we finish here, we’ll go to your office where you’ll sign over that deed to me.”
“Absolutely not,” Matthew replied, his voice calm as could be. “Besides, what would you do with it? You don’t strike me as a farmer or a ranching man.”
Durham laughed. “Not a thing. I’ll hold on to it, let it increase in value, and then sell it.”
“That’smyland,” Miss Timperman said, her face going pink. “For me and the husband you’d promised I would have.”
“He promised you something that won’t happen,” Matthew said.
Her face went an even darker pink. “I’m finished with this. Withallof this. I hope you rot in your money and your land, Mr. Durham.”
And with that, she stalked to the rear of the bank. A few seconds later, a door slammed shut.
“Good riddance,” Mr. Durham said, yanking Sophia back around toward the clerk. “Now, where were we?”
“I’m not giving you my money.” She tried to pull away and he shoved her against the counter. Her hip smarted with the contact, and the clerk winced in sympathy.
“Let her go.” Matthew took a step forward, only for Mr. Durham to raise that pistol and point it directly at him.
“After I get my money and that deed. This is taking much too long. Now—”
But he didn’t get to finish, because a commotion came from the rear of the building.
“The door,” Durham said, a note of urgency in his voice, just as the bank filled with more men than Sophia had seen gathered in one place outside of the church.
Every single one of them held a weapon. The marshal, Mr. Gilbert, Mr. Gardiner, all of them, even Mr. Darby from the boarding house. And right there, bringing up the rear, was Miss Timperman, her arms crossed and a haughty smile plastered onto her face.
