garden. Returning from town one day, she found he’d jumped the garden’s wire fencing and turned the newly emerging vegetables into his personal buffet. He’d eaten the tops of all the carrots, beets, and then all the beans and tomato plants. He paid for his greediness later that evening and was stomach sick for the next two days. Now a year older she hoped he was no longer bite happy, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She walked him to the barn, put him in his stall, and locked his chest-high gate. “I’ll let you out when I get back. You can’t have my place for lunch, and if someone comes along and wants to steal you, Cheyenne will probably help them saddle you up. I don’t want to lose you.”
He stuck his painted face against her and whinnied.
“Be back soon.” She gave him a hug and left the barn.
With Lady pulling the wagon, Spring took a slow drive around her property to check for damage left by the months of winter weather. McCray was also on her mind. She let herself admit to looking forward to having him back for dinner, and what might come after. Last night had not been enough. A couple of older trees had been downed by the storms, so she used an ax to chop the trunks into manageable rounds then struggled to place the heavy pieces into the bed of the wagon. The process took a while. Once she caught her breath and used a bandanna to mop up the sweat on her face and neck, she drove the wagon home. The unloading was just as arduous. After wiping her brow again, taking a few drags of water from her canteen, she let her arms rest for a few moments to free Paint and unhitch Lady. Once that was done, she picked up the ax again. The wood would be used for firewood later in the year. In the middle of the task, she spotted a buggy coming her way. Its occupants were Avery Jarvis, his business partner, and the young woman she’d seen the other day but had yet to be introduced to. Hoping they were just passing by, she resumed filling the air with the ring of the ax. When the buggy stopped and Jarvis and the others got out and approached, she snarled quietly.
“Afternoon, Miss Lee,” Jarvis said. He was wearing a dark brown suit with matching vest over his white shirt, and a brown striped tie.
She brought the ax down on a log. It split and she pulled the ax free. “What can I do for you, Jarvis?”
“Thought I’d introduce you to my daughter, Hazel.”
Spring eyed the woman. Dressed as finely as Glenda Cale in a pale gray walking ensemble and a fashionable little hat, Hazel gave Spring a quick nod.
“Hello,” Spring said.
Jarvis continued, “And my secretary, Leland Swan.”
“Miss Lee,” Swan said, eyeing her distastefully.
“Mr. Swan.” He was younger than Jarvis, also taller and leaner. She didn’t know why he seemed so put out, but she didn’t care. Wanting to get to the reason they’d stopped, she asked, “Lost again?” She saw her horses watching.
Jarvis smiled. “No. I came to inquire about the possibility of buying the land you own by the river. The parcel that used to belong to Matt Ketchum. I plan to open a mill. The one owned by Porter James is old and dated.”
She resumed chopping. “It’s not for sale.”
“Suppose I make you a generous offer.”
She brought the ax down again with such force, Hazel jumped. Spring worked the blade free. “Suppose you understand what I said. It isn’t for sale.”
“A woman alone can always use more money.”
She almost asked him what he knew about a woman alone. His refusal to hear her was proof he was accustomed to getting his way, but so was she, and saw no need to argue or repeat herself. She addressed his companions. “Hazel, Mr. Leland. It was nice meeting you. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Jarvis.” She turned to go up to the house. She’d finish chopping later.
Jarvis snapped, “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
She stopped and asked quietly. “Or what? I’m carrying an ax and wearing a gun belt. What do you have to stop me besides your temper and a loud voice?”
She watched a smile curve Hazel’s mouth before it quickly disappeared.
Her father’s lips tightened. “I’m offering you good money for land Ketchum said you stole.”
“Stole? When Matt Ketchum says it’s raining, folks know to