Page 39 of If the Boot Fits

“Excellent. I’d prefer neither of my children have any more mishaps. I think I’ve added a hundred gray hairs to my head over the last week.” He ran his hand through the dark blond hair that had begun to thin and fade with age. “So you said at dinner you had a couple of things you wanted to talk to me about. What’s on your mind?”

Deciding it might be wise to ease into their discussion, Samantha opted for the easier of the two topics. “Why did you evict the Ellis family from their home?”

Her father expelled a sigh and ran a hand over his jaw. “I felt bad about that. Elizabeth bein’ a widow and all. I went as long as I could without raising her rent, but after I lost so many Shorthorns to Texas fever a year ago, I had no choice. I raised rents across all my properties to cover my losses. I was glad her eldest boy was able to help her find a new place in town. She really didn’t need all that acreage anyway. It’s gone unused since her husband died.”

Keeping her voice as bland as possible, Samantha picked at a spot on the upholstery of the sofa’s arm. “Have you rented the property to anyone else yet?”

“No.” His face reddened slightly. “I’d thought to gift it to you as a wedding present.” He held up a hand as if to ward off a coming attack. “I know that’s not really in the works anymore, but it’s some of the best land I own. Fertile soil. Plentiful water. Smooth terrain. It’d make a great starter ranch or even a farm, should your, uh, husband be . . . agriculturally inclined.”

“And if he’s not?” she couldn’t help but ask. “What if he prefers town life? What if he were a . . .” She tried to think of an example her father would take exception to. “A store clerk?”

Her father stiffened. “A clerk? Tell me you haven’t fallen for that weaselly Flanders fellow down at Patterson’s.” He looked so utterly horrified by the prospect that Samantha had to stifle a giggle.

“No. I have no interest in Mr. Flanders. I was just curious about what would happen to the land.”

“Thank goodness.” He slumped back in his chair. “Don’t scare me like that, girl.”

She bit back a smile. “The land, Daddy?”

“Oh yes. The land. Well, if you up and married a town fella, I guess you could use the land as an investment or sell it. ’Course, now that I know you’re not in a hurry to settle down, I should probably put a notice in the paper about the place being available again.”

“Could you wait a few months?” Samantha leaned forward in her seat. “Mrs. Ellis left behind a garden. One she depended on to keep her family fed through the winter. I was hoping you would allow her to salvage what was left of the plot. I could oversee things as your representative. Maybe she could even teach me a few things about planting and harvesting. It would be a good skill to have should I ever marry a man who is . . . agriculturally inclined.”

He rubbed his chin. “The house is already closed up.”

That wasn’t a no.

“We wouldn’t need the house, Daddy. Just access to the garden. Please. It would really help Mrs. Ellis, and you know what the Good Book says about taking care of orphans and widows.”

“I’m aware.” His dry tone made it clear he didn’t appreciate her biblical manipulation. Nevertheless, he nodded his head. “I suppose it won’t hurt anything if you agree to supervise. But come September, I’m opening it up to renters.” He gave her a sly side glance. “Unless you happen to be engaged by then.”

Now who was doing the manipulating?

Not that it mattered. He’d granted access to Mama Bess’s garden. Her first mission had been accomplished.

She leaned back in her seat. “I guess we’ll have to see what September brings.”

“That we will.” He grinned and patted her knee. “Now, what is the second thing you needed to talk about?” He stretched his legs out in front of him and visibly relaxed as if the worst were over.

Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come.

18

Filling her mind with images of Ida Mae and sweet little Jimmy, Samantha gripped the sofa arm and braced herself for rough seas. “I think you need to fire one of your cowhands.”

Her father stiffened, and his expression darkened. “Did someone get out of line with you?”

She shook her head. “Not with me, but I discovered today that Leroy Thompson fathered a child with one of my friends, and he refuses to take responsibility and marry her.”

Daddy sighed and pulled his knees up in order to brace his forearms on the shelf they formed. “You know I don’t hold with immorality, but it’s not my job to police the men when they’re off duty. I work them hard, so I don’t begrudge them the chance to let off steam during their personal time. Some drink, some gamble, some . . . seek female companionship. As long as their work doesn’t suffer from their choices, I got no reason to interfere.” He leaned back and scratched at a spot behind his ear. “Shoot, if I only employed straightlaced fellas, I’d be out of business by the end of the year from a lack of manpower. Leroy Thompson is a good hand. I ain’t gonna fire him just because some young woman claims he’s the father of her babe.”

“Claims?” Samantha bristled. “Do you think Ida Mae would lie about something like that?”

His hand slapped against his leg, and he expelled an exasperated breath. “I don’t know, Samantha. I’m not familiar with Ida Mae’s habits, nor am I privy to the workings of her mind. And neither are you. You haven’t seen her more than a handful of times over the last three years. She might not be the same person you remember.”

Samantha stiffened her spine. “She’s definitely not the same person I remember. She’s a mother now. Her reputation has been slaughtered, her father plans to kick her and the baby out of his house in three months, and the man who sired her son not only refuses to marry her, but he won’t even provide for the boy’s basic needs.”

“How is that my problem?”