Montana Wife. Jillian Hart

land sold…

      It’s too much. Too much to manage alone. He never would have wanted that for her. Anger drained out of her and her hand started to tremble. She couldn’t get a good grip on the baking sheet through the layers of dense rug yarn that padded the mitt.

      The biscuits, golden and fluffy, tipped dangerously and she slid the sheet onto the waiting trivet, the one Kol had sanded and shaped from river rock the long winter when she’d been carrying Hans.

      She swallowed hard, somehow managing to flip the eggs without breaking all but one of the yolks. She watched the smear of yellow bubble in the grease and steeled herself for what was to come.

      The rap of his knuckles on the door frame was quiet, not bold or demanding, but seemed like the ring of gunfire. She would do this now, while the boys were sleeping in from another rough night, when it was just her and Daniel. So she could spare her boys the heartache.

      Daniel Lindsay’s step was sure and sturdy as he let himself in. He was a good man, Kol had said so many a time. And would take better care of her land than Mr. Dayton or whoever won the auction from the bank. Surely that was the wisest decision. Maybe he would give her enough time to settle her affairs and contact her relatives to see if anyone would take her and her boys in.

      “Did you sleep at all last night?”

      It wasn’t what she expected him to say. Surely he’d seen the mortgage papers on the table; they were obvious and hard to miss. “I’ll have time to sleep later.”

      “No, you need to take care of yourself now. Your boys depend on you.”

      It was the decency in his voice that undid her as he gently removed the spatula from her hand, took her elbow and tugged. Who was this man who’d bandaged her hands, who’d tried to harvest her fields with his machinery and horses, who by rights should have been as happy with her change in fortune as her other neighbors?

      When her feet didn’t move, he laid his other hand on her back, on the space between her shoulder blades. His touch was unwelcome. He was not her husband, and close contact with her was…well, it was wrong. But the broad pressure of his palm on her spine was comforting, too.

      Lord knew how much she needed comfort right now. So she allowed his closeness and let him nudge her to the closest chair. She eased onto the seat, more tired than she’d ever been.

      And more defeated.

      Daniel Lindsay moved away, leaving her alone in the cool shadows. She shivered. She couldn’t get warm, even a few yards from the blazing cookstove. There was a clink and a clatter of stoneware and then a steaming cup of coffee appeared before her on the table, left there by the tall, silent man who’d taken over her duties at the stove.

      The coffee was piping hot and stung her tongue. But it steadied her to ask what had to be asked. “What would you say this land, even with the house, is worth?”

      “I’d have to find out all the debt owed. And if a fair deal is possible. If so, then I would make you an honest offer.”

      “I know you will.” She took another bracing swallow of coffee. Felt the heat burn inside her. It was the closest thing to determination she had at the moment. “I’m afraid any offer you would want to make wouldn’t cover all the debt I owe. What happens then?”

      “I’ll talk to someone at the bank and find out. Likely as not, if you can’t make your next payment or if you can’t sell for the amount of your mortgage, then the bank will repossess.”

      She’d known he was going to say that.

      He turned with two full plates in hand and set them on the table, one before her and the other at Kirk’s place, where he sat. A solemn man with grim lines cut around his mouth and his eyes. Not the face of a young man, but of a hardworking one. A decent man.

      Gratitude warmed her more than the coffee had. When she was down, he’d pulled through for her.

      He took a bite of biscuit and chewed, reaching for the loan papers. More creases dug into her brow as he scanned the pages. His granite jaw stilled.

      As the clock ticked the seconds away, Rayna watched Daniel’s reaction as he appeared to read. The tension cording in his throat. The grim set of his brows drawing together as he leafed through the pages.

      Like the hand of destiny laying down the final step in her path, the silence stretched between the ticks of the clock. Unbearable silence. She saw, as Daniel bowed his head and covered his face with his hands, that it was worse than she’d figured. And that meant—

      No, she couldn’t face what that meant. With great control, she rose from the table and pulled two plates from the cupboards. Each scrape of the spatula as she began to fill the plates with the rest of the fried eggs, diced potatoes and salt pork gave her something to concentrate on so she could keep the truth from settling in.

      If she couldn’t sell the land, with the hopes of keeping the house, then she would have no place to go. No way to make a living.

      A chair scraped against the wooden floor and Daniel’s sure gait tapped on the floor. “I’ll talk to the bank. See what I can do. But I don’t know how it will turn out.”

      His silence sounded oddly helpless. “I would truly appreciate any help, Mr. Lindsay.”

      “Daniel.” He seemed to fill the room, his presence was that powerful. As was the shadow that fell across the floor, big hands fisting. “I wish there was more I could do.”

      “You’ve done so much already. I can’t remember if I’ve thanked you.”

      “It’s been a difficult time, I know.” Daniel swallowed hard, but the tangle in his chest seemed to sharpen and cut like knives at the insides of his ribs. He hated this feeling. Knew, that if he struck a deal to take over the mortgage, that he’d be taking everything from Kol’s widow and children. That wasn’t what he wanted.

      “I have a good relationship with Wright at the bank. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

      She layered salt pork on the two plates she was making, breakfast to be kept warm in the oven for when her children woke, no doubt. What fortunate boys they were, to have a mother like her.

      It took only one look around to see the home she’d made for them, clean and comfortable and caring. The sharp feelings sliced into his chest and he turned away to grab his hat. To get as far away from this woman as he could before he remembered too much of his childhood. Or the boy that had never had a kindly woman worrying if he was hungry. Making sure he had a heaping plate of good food to start the day with.

      He couldn’t spare Rayna Ludgrin one more look as he strode out the door and into the cool morning that warned of a hard winter to come.

      It didn’t feel as if it were only the weather.

      Daniel yanked the ends of the reins loose from the hitching post in the front yard and swung up onto his gelding’s back. With the odd feeling that Rayna Ludgrin was watching him go, he rode east and into the rising sun.

       Chapter Five

       R ayna leaned the four envelopes, ready to post, against her reticule on the stand by the door. She felt brittle and as wrung out as a washrag on cleaning day, but that was one hard chore done and over with.

      She’d written to Kol’s brother, sister and cousin and asked to move in with her boys. Please God, may one of them have room for us. She refused to think what would happen if no one did.

      The parlor clock chimed the hour. Nine o’clock. The boys were still asleep. Poor Kirk had worked himself into sheer exhaustion and she hated to wake him, but she would have to if he didn’t roust in the next half hour. She had to get those letters on today’s train. She dared not risk waiting until tomorrow.

      Daniel would be back from the bank with bad news. There was no way it could be anything but. As long as I can get enough cash to get us settled somewhere else… Then she would have a roof over her