that disease took her herd. Three of her hands are Charlie’s deputies now. They needed jobs. I heard a rumor that—”
“Will you excuse me?” I said as pleasantly as I could. “I need to speak to someone before he leaves.”
I made a beeline for my accountant.
“Benjamin!” Harris Green said jovially as I approached, probably looking anything but. He held up one of the little glass plates filled with slivers of meat. “Great idea! Love the modern twist.” Lowering his voice, he added, “I was dreading Theodore’s seating chart this year. Last year I was stuck next to that taxidermist who always smells odd.”
“What’s going on with Josie?” I asked.
He looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” I said. “You’ve been coaching her all evening. Sending her to various boneheaded fools she’d never give the time of day otherwise. And now I just heard that her ranch might be foreclosing?”
My head started banging out a rhythm against my skull, and guilt had a big role in that. Not so much the distant past anymore—that was done and couldn’t be undone—but as Josie’s neighbor, I should have known if they were in real trouble. I knew about the cattle disease, or at least that something had hit the herd hard. I’d heard through my men that the loss was pretty bad, and I’d worked out something the year before with her old man to help out after Galveston’s supply ports were destroyed. He was pretty frail then, but still wouldn’t accept a handout, so I’d purchased a tiny piece of their property. The only part that meant anything to me. I hadn’t heard anything more after the cattle debacle, but then, I hadn’t gone looking for myself either.
Green sighed and put down his plate, glancing around as if ears were lying in wait to listen in.
“You know that I can’t talk about another client with you, Benjamin,” he said.
“And you know how little I care about legalities,” I responded. “Her father and my uncle were best friends, even almost business partners,” I said. “We’re neighbors.” I wanted to say “friends,” but I knew that was pushing it. “She’s by herself now, and if she’s in trouble, I want to know.”
He looked at me wearily.
“She would rather be trampled by her own horse than have you know anything about anything,” he said. “You realize that.”
“Duly noted,” I said. “Now tell me.”
Chapter 8
1904
Josie
I hadn’t been able to strip out of that dress fast enough.
Yes, it was beautiful and my mother’s, and I felt dreamy in it, and all the things that women are supposed to feel upon dressing up, but that all wore thin in the first hour. Actually, I was pretty much done after the library.
So, after more mortifyingly insulting encounters with benefactors than I ever cared to stomach again, smiling and playing the meek and weak female in need of a big, strong man to save the day, I left. Threw propriety to the wind and begged a waiting carriage man to run me home in the then steady mist. Being that it was so close, and whoever he was waiting for would likely never know—and that I probably looked pathetic—he complied. So, I came home, stripped naked, and climbed into my bed, just like that. Rebellious and improper and everything the ridiculous pompous asses at that party would thumb their noses at.
I’d started out thinking I could talk it up as a business deal. Appeal to these men’s financial prowess. But none of them were interested in anything a woman had to say that involved more than a few introductory words, an anecdote about my father, and silly laughter at whatever inane thing came out of their mouths. I would have had better luck writing it across my chest, where the majority of the fools’ attention was spent anyway. Had I taught my breasts to speak, I could have sealed the deal.
Today was a new day, I told myself as I headed out to check on the herd and make note of some needed fence repairs Malcolm had told me about. He’d given me a list, but I needed to see them for myself. See if costs could be curtailed somehow. He wasn’t physically well enough to do them, so with the lack of other hands now, I’d have to hire it done. I cringed at the thought. Fencing was vitally important, but . . . I was running out of funds. Depending on