Alaskan Sweethearts. Janet Tronstad

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      For the first time since Scarlett had driven into Dry Creek, she realized how keyed up she had been. She hadn’t really relaxed and looked around until now. She liked what she saw. The town was lived in but not fancy. Even the church, though obviously well kept, wasn’t intimidating. There were a couple of willow trees in the fenced yards of a few houses, but there were no lawns, although she did see an old ceramic garden troll standing on the ground beside someone’s door. Dried tufts of grass stuck out from the dirt randomly in yards and wild areas alike. She didn’t see any tumbleweeds, but it looked like the place to find them later in the fall.

      Everything was worn; the vehicles by the café were obviously used.

      “Which one is yours?” she asked, and Hunter turned to her.

      She pointed at the pickups.

      “The black one with the scrape on the front fender,” he answered, looking at her. “Got it when I patched some fence in the back pasture. I had to get the barbed wire up quick because we were moving a herd of cattle the next day—Red Angus. They manage to find their way out of any place where the fence wire sags.”

      She nodded. She could hear the satisfaction in his voice. He didn’t sound like a wealthy man who did nothing but oversee ranch hands and attend auctions. Her grandmother had insisted they must be living the high life somewhere. The older woman had always claimed Colin had gotten rich off selling the mine. As it turns out, he’d kept the deed.

      “You’ve seen the cat that’s riding along in my pickup today,” Hunter said. “Joey might like to play with her later. She’s not a dog, but she’s a good cat.”

      “Do you have any other pets?” Scarlett asked.

      “No. And the cats aren’t pets. They keep the barn mice away.”

      “Oh.”

      “I think they’d feel demoted if they were called pets,” he offered then with a grin. “They’re pretty independent. Working animals like the milk cow.”

      Scarlett decided her grandmother had been wrong about the wealth of this family. Besides, local history told her there had been no big gold strikes in the years the elder Jacobson had been there. Maybe it was just her grandmother’s recollections. She had talked about Colin sometimes and always with an odd look on her face, as if she remembered him as bigger than life. And as though she still expected him to come back—maybe even hoped he would.

      The Murphy women were all fools when it came to men, Scarlett told herself in disgust, trying to shake off her mood. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Regardless of what her grandmother felt and how much money Colin had or didn’t have, the payment due her family was legitimate. The Jacobsons owed them. And she intended to collect.

      Her vision was still a touch blurry and she licked her lips for the moisture. She put her hand up to her forehead. She’d had too much heat as well as too little food. No one had told her that the only car left on the lot in Billings was the last to be rented because the air conditioner didn’t work. Of course, it would not have made any difference if she had known. She would have taken it; she’d had to get here and she would have traveled in an ox cart to do it if necessary.

      They were quiet for another moment and Scarlett told herself she was okay. She felt better out in the open air instead of inside the café.

      “My grandfather is a cheat,” Hunter finally confessed as he stood there looking down the street with her again. “I don’t like it, but there you have it.”

      He turned sideways to look at her, faint embarrassment on his face. He was obviously reluctant to admit what he had told her.

      “And you?”

      “People treat us like we all are crooks. The whole family,” he added. “But my brothers and I aren’t.”

      She tried to answer, but she couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t work.

      “I thought you should know,” he added, and she saw his eyes suddenly narrow.

      Scarlett swayed then and the porch started to spin. She tried to blink the fuzziness away, but it didn’t leave. She reached out to steady herself but there was nothing there again except the man’s arm. She clutched him.

      “You’re sure you’re okay?” Hunter asked as he moved in to catch her.

      It took her some time to catch her breath.

      “Of course I am,” she finally managed to say. She still held his arm, but she told herself it wasn’t necessary. “I’m a Murphy.”

      She had gladly taken back her maiden name after her divorce.

      Hunter’s cotton shirtsleeve hid hard cords of muscle in his forearm and he kept her upright with no visible effort. She felt the muscles flex as he moved to better support her.

      “How hot was it in that car of yours?”

      She kept herself upright long enough to glare at him.

      “I’m fine.”

      He grunted in disbelief, turning her slightly and guiding her toward a weathered wooden stool that sat on the edge of the porch. She hadn’t noticed the paint-spattered thing until now, it blended so well with everything around it. For a moment she saw the legendary Jacobson charm her grandmother had spoken about. Hunter had a fine growth of black whiskers on his chiseled face. His scars were lighter when not in the direct sun. His eyes held a knowing sympathy. His lips were smiling. His manner beckoned her toward him.

      She sat and he went to his pickup, coming back with a bottle of water and a nut bar of some kind. “Here. Drink and eat.”

      She did so and she felt better.

      “You need water in this kind of heat,” he said.

      She nodded.

      “Soda doesn’t work,” he added.

      A few minutes later she stood. She wasn’t going to lose out on the chance to claim this land for her family just because she had a little problem with dizziness. Hunter kept looking at her anxiously, though, and he had his hand out to catch her if she should fall.

      “Careful now,” he said.

      “I’m fine. Strong, too. I’ll be able to work that farm your grandfather has for us.”

      “I’ll admit I think you could do it,” he said, facing her and then taking a breath. “But you won’t have the chance. My grandfather can’t be trusted with a contract. Something is wrong with it even if we don’t know what it is yet.”

      He kept his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear. She half thought he’d said that about her being able to do it just to sweeten her up for the rest. His dark eyes looked serious in the shadow of his hat brim.

      He could be lying, though.

      “If your grandfather is such a cheat, why isn’t he in jail?” she asked.

      “One of these days he’s going to step over the line and I won’t be able to bail him out. Then he will be. I don’t СКАЧАТЬ