Izzy bit the inside of her lip. He couldn’t be as nervous as she was. After all, she was the one with a truth to confess.
“Should I sit?” he asked.
“If you like.”
He perched on the edge of the desk chair. Izzy thought about sitting on the bed, but she felt restless. It would be easier to get this out if she was standing.
She clasped her hands together, trying to find the strength to say what she needed to. “You were right.” The words sort ofstuttered out of her throat. She swallowed and kept going. “I was fearful when you talked of outlaws and when Sheriff Wright came to visit, but not for the reason you suspected.”
Hale leaned forward. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he brushed it back impatiently. Izzy’s heart ached at the simple motion. When she’d given herself half a second to imagine the man she would marry back in Cheyenne, she never could have dreamed up a man as handsome and as kind as Hale. What if he—
No. She couldn’t let her mind worry about his reaction. If she did, she’d never keep the courage to tell him her motivation for writing to him.
“What do you mean?” he asked when she didn’t continue.
Izzy pressed her interlocked fingers together and forced herself to look at him. “I told you my father and my brothers were away. You assumed I meant for work, and that is the truth if you think about it a certain way. They’re awaybecauseof their work.”
“All right,” he said in a voice that indicated his confusion.
“But their work . . .” Izzy trailed off. There was no nice way to explain it. But maybe if she led with the reasons why, it would soften the entire narrative. “My father is a good man. My brothers too, as much as it pains me sometimes to admit.” She gave him a weary smile, and he returned it.
“We didn’t always have much money with the homestead,” Izzy continued. “Papa found himself in debt more than once, and he always lamented that if he’d had more money, he could have found a hospital for Mama and perhaps she wouldn’t have . . .” Izzy shook away the painful memory. “So, after she passed, he gave up the homestead and found a way to help people like us. He didn’t want anyone else to experience the pain of losing someone when it could have been prevented. He discovered a way to get money and ensure it went to people who needed it.”
Hale’s brow crinkled as he sat back in his chair. “He founded a charity?”
“Well, not precisely.” It was a charity of sorts, but Izzy knew it wasn’t of the kind Hale was thinking. “Papa spent time in places where men talk. Saloons, gambling halls, boardinghouse dining rooms.” She’d hoped the latter would make Hale smile, but his expression didn’t change. He was waiting for more.
Izzy drew in a deep breath. “He found out when rich men—those with businesses who had far more than they needed—planned to acquire more, and he . . .” She paused, wondering whether to reveal her own minuscule role. Perhaps it was better to share a little at a time, especially if she hoped for his help. She could still be honest and leave herself out of the story. “He and my brothers took it.”
Hale’s mouth opened, then shut again.
And when he said nothing immediately, Izzy’s heart sunk.
Chapter Eleven
HALE RAN A HAND THROUGHhis hair as he let out a loud breath. It felt as if Isabella had picked up a boulder and flung it straight at his stomach.
He could hardly make sense of what she’d said—mostly because it was the last thing he’d expected to hear.
“You’re telling me your father and your brothers are thieves?” he finally said.
Isabella visibly winced. “They aren’t thieves.” She paused “Yes, I suppose some people might see it that way, but we—theydidn’t keep the money.”
“They didn’t?”
