“Well, I’ll be thanking you to keep your opinions to yourself, make no mistake.”
Smith raised his brows. “Be careful, boy. The Welsh is bleeding through.”
Abruptly, his rage left, leaving him bone-weary. “Leave me be, Don.”
Alice was gone. She believed him a seducer, interested only in her wealth and her land. God, she couldn’t be more wrong. He didn’t give a damn about her land. He didn’t care if she kept the bloody claim forever or sold it for a dollar to the town drunk. He just wanted her. But she was gone, and she believed the worst.
A hand patted his shoulder. “She’ll get over it, boy. Just leave her be.”
“I can’t.” Bleakly, he stared. “What if she never speaks to me again?”
“You’ll think of something, Rupert.” Smith never called him by his first name. Looking up, he found the man regarding him, a gentle smile on his face. “You always do.”
Exhaling, he nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Smith frowned. “More like later on this evening. Don’t go to bed angry, is what my pa always used to say.”
“You don’t know Alice like I do. Tomorrow.” Already, plans and strategies occurred to him. “I’ll fix it all tomorrow.”
