Betrayal by Robin Lee Hatcher Read Free Book Online Page B

the next month or so. Flour. Salt. Sugar. Coffee. Cornmeal. Vinegar. Oatmeal. Tea. Dried beans. And plenty more. The list was as long as the larder at Sage-hen was close to bare.
    “I trust I can put some of this on my account, like I did last year. I’ll be selling off some of my herd in a few weeks and can pay the rest of the bill then.”
    “Of course it’s all right. Your husband never failed to pay his bills. Not even in lean years. Mr. Humphrey and I know you’ll do the same.”
    Julia felt herself wince and hoped Nancy didn’t notice. But she hated being tied to Angus even after his death. So what if her husband had paid his bills on time and in full? It had nothing to do with her. She was her own woman now. She belonged to no one. She would rise or fall by her own decisions, and God willing, she would make the right ones.
    Was Julia as upset as Hugh perceived her to be? He couldn’t see her face, her back still to him, and yet there was something about the set of her shoulders that said she was distressed or angry or something.
    None of my concern . He needed to remember that. He needed to remember that this was a temporary job for a woman who was nothing more to him than his employer. He was lucky to have thework. Time he settled for being content with that. Time to nip this … wanting … in the bud.
    He turned and moved down one of the narrow aisles. Without money in his pocket, he wouldn’t be buying. And Mrs. Humphrey wasn’t likely to extend an unknown ranch hand credit the way she’d extended it to Julia. But it didn’t hurt to look around. When he arrived at a display of poles, rods, lines, and other fishing equipment, he stopped.
    A memory from long ago returned. A pleasant memory of him and his dad, fishing together. He could hear their laughter mingling on a soft spring breeze. How old would he have been? Maybe fifteen. Sixteen at the oldest. They’d gone to the river early in the morning when the air was cool and fresh. Not only had his dad been sober, but he’d been in one of his rare good moods as well. On that morning, in that moment, Hugh had been glad his dad found him with that family in Nebraska and brought him back to Chicago. He hadn’t been glad very often. Only a few years later —
    He closed off the thought as he continued down the aisle. There were some things best not remembered. But the memories continued to press in. To escape them, he went outside and stood on the boardwalk, letting his gaze roam over the main street.
    Pine Creek wasn’t a big place, but it appeared to have all of the necessary businesses to make a town civilized. Not that he was likely to see much of it, it being so far north of the Grace ranch. And once his work for the widow was done, he would leave the area. He’d forget Pine Creek the way he’d forgotten plenty of other small towns between Chicago and this spot on the western edge of Wyoming.
    Across the street and down a bit, a man stumbled out of the door of the saloon they’d passed on their way into town. Seeing the drunkard, Hugh was assailed with more memories. Some of theunpleasant ones he tried to avoid. How many times in his young life had he gone looking for his father, usually finding him drunk in a similar establishment? How many times had his father leaned down on Hugh’s boyish shoulders and the pair of them stumbled along the streets and back alleys toward whatever place they were able to call home at the time? Even years later, the stench of alcohol, sweat, and vomit seemed to fill his nostrils.
    “Mr. Brennan? … Hugh?”
    Jerked to the present, he turned to find Julia in the doorway of the mercantile, watching him with a puzzled expression.
    “Mind helping me load the supplies into the wagon?”
    “Sure thing.” He would be glad for something to do. Anything to turn his thoughts in a better direction.
    A wounded soul could recognize another wounded soul. That was something Julia had learned over the years. She’d seen