Page 73 of In These Hills

“You know he arrested me back in ’81 for carrying a pistol in town.”

She laughed. “He did not.”

“He most certainly did. I was acquitted, of course. But Rigby takes his job seriously. A mite too seriously, if you ask me.”

Boot steps sounded on the front porch, and they both looked up.

A heartbeat before the door opened, Josephine wondered if it would be Dodge Coburn. She hadn’t seen him since their spirited exchange on Sunday evening in the library, though another encounter felt inevitable. If he’d been avoiding her, he should know that wasn’t necessary. She could handle another round with him. Any chance to chip away at stilted patriarchy and blind tradition, as Miss Anthony liked to say. He was a worthy debating partner.

Squaring her shoulders, she prepared herself.

29

A MAN IN OVERALLS WALKED IN with a little girl in tow, and Josephine felt a stab of disappointment, which she swiftly brushed aside.

The man offered no smile, yet his countenance was kind. Whatever warmth he lacked, the girl more than made up for. Mischief lingered in the vivacious gleam of her eyes, and Josephine felt an instant fondness for her. Especially when the girl smiled at her still-healing face without so much as a flicker of discomfort.

“Good day, Uncle Jack.” The man extended a large, calloused hand, as the squeak of wagon wheels drifted in through the open door.

Jack Daniel shook it heartily. “Ballard Preston! Good to see you. I was just about to hunt down Dodge and ask him to send word we need more mules.”

“Dodge must’ve read your mind, sir, ’cause he’s already been to see me. Me and Agnes brought down six.”

Only then did the man look Josephine’s way.

“Ballard,” Mr. Daniel said, gesturing. “Allow me to introduce my new bookkeeper, Mrs. Josephine Dunham. She’s recently moved to town and needed employment, and—”

“The Almighty knew you needed help, sir,” Mr. Preston drawled, his dry humor never touching his features, which somehow made it even funnier. “Good to meet you, Mrs. Dunham. Welcome to town.”

“Thank you, Mr. Preston.”

He glanced down. “This here’s my daughter Agnes.”

Josephine smiled. “Nice to meet you, Agnes.”

Agnes dipped a little curtsey. “Howdy-doo, ma’am.”

“Let’s get you paid, Ballard.” Mr. Daniel bent down to open the safe.

Josephine felt Agnes watching her and sneaked a quick wink. The girl winked right back, adding a tiny shoulder shrug as if they shared a secret.

Mr. Daniel straightened, face reddening. “I never can get this dad-blame thing open.” He tried again, then looked as though he might actually kick the safe.

“Mr. Daniel,” Josephine intervened. “What can I do to help?”

He dug through his coat pockets, vest pockets, then sighed. “Of all the—”

Footsteps sounded on the front porch a second time.

When Josephine met Dodge Coburn’s gaze, something shot clean through her, stealing her breath for a beat. He paused, too, then looked away, as if nothing had happened.

“Morning, folks.” Mr. Coburn shook Mr. Preston’s hand. “Ballard, good to see you. Morning, Agnes.” He chucked the girl under the chin. “Bethie was just talking about you at breakfast. She’s got a book she wants to share.”

“Dodge!” Frustration roughened Mr. Daniel’s voice. “This blasted safe is giving me fits! Would you try it?”

Within seconds, Dodge Coburn opened the door, and Mr. Daniel muttered something Josephine hoped Agnes didn’t hear.

“Just leave the blasted thing open,” Mr. Daniel grumbled. “Payroll’s at noon.”