A knock sounded at the door some hours after Zebulon had left. The noise made Belle jump and almost drop the scarf.
“Who is it?”
No answer.
Her pulse pounding in her throat, she tiptoed to the window and tried to see whoever had knocked at the door. A horse stood tied to the nearest fence post. She didn’t recognize the mount, a dark bay with a scraggly mane.
The shotgun. Belle reached for it where it hung on the rack over the coats. Good thing for her, she’d been practicing like Zeb had suggested. “Who’s there?”
“Belle Murray, open the door.” A male voice. Not Jake or Sven or Zebulon, or even Mr. Tolliver.
“Tell me who you are, first.”
“Abel Quinn.”
“I prefer not to have gentleman callers inside my home if I’m alone.” As soon as Belle had spoken the words, she realized her error in doing so. But she had a gun. And so far Ham’s brother hadn’t given her any cause for alarm other than arriving unexpectedly.
“Ma’am, I’m not here on a personal matter. But what I have to tell you, I’d prefer to be inside out of the cold.”
She unlocked the door and opened it.
Abel Quinn filled the doorway. A smell came from him of animal fur and stale alcohol. She couldn’t catch a whiff of anything fresh. He had a leather pouch slung over one shoulder and a rifle over the other.
“Come in.” She debated about heating water for coffee, and although the water in the kettle would likely make a lukewarm cup, she didn’t want to encourage him to stay any longer than necessary. However, all she knew about him, she’d heard from Ham. Maybe after all this time he’d changed. But then Abel hadn’t come to the funeral, she reminded herself.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He removed his hat, and she stepped back to allow him inside. He shut the door behind him, the hinges creaking and wood squeaking.
Belle stood in the center of the room, the table behind her, and kept her hands clasped together. “Please, accept my condolences about your brother.”
“You lost your sister, so, likewise.” Abel nodded. “I can’t imagine what my brother told you about me.”
“Only that, ah, you’d had a falling out sometime in the past. He didn’t speak of you much. I do know, though, he had hoped to reconcile with you.”
Abel guffawed. “I bet he did. Well, actions speak otherwise. Always thought he was better’n me. All I can say is look what I have, and look what he’s got.”
Belle couldn’t find the words to comment on the brothers’ relationship. Clearly, Abel still bore ill feelings toward Ham, even as his brother lay in the grave. “So, Mr. Quinn, you said this isn’t a personal call. I assume, then, it’s a business matter of some kind. Although, I can’t imagine what business you and I would have to deal with.”
“You’re quite right, this is a business matter.” He removed the wide pouch from his shoulder and strode past her to the table. He opened the flap and pulled out some papers. “I have here some papers that give me the rights to this claim.”
“What?” Belle wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “My sister’s name is on this claim, not merely your brother’s.” She knew enough to know if her sister’s name was on the claim papers, too, Belle had at least the rights to half the claim.
Until now Abel Quinn had been a figure in her imagination; the relative Ham never saw anymore. She’d figured the man cared nothing for the land and what it meant.
Abel shook his head. “Not in the papers Hamilton filed. The papers say the claim was filed by Hamilton Quinn, not Hamilton and Melanie Quinn. Got copies of ’em right here. Look for yourself.”
“There must be a mistake.” She reached for the papers he held. She scanned the first page.
“Go ahead, read them. No mistake. Ham always told me this would be his and his lady’s place. But it’s figuratively speaking, as they say. Her name was never listed on the paperwork.”
Belle shook her head. He’d spoken the truth. No mention of Melanie at all on the paperwork. “No. What does this mean?”
“It means this will all be my property come springtime.” He folded his arms across his chest and took a step closer. “Now, I suppose I could be charging you rent, all this time you’ve been living here since my brother’s untimely death.”
She tried to keep her knees still. She wished Jackson was modern enough for a telephone, or neighbors were closer. Or she could call on someone to get this man out of her house.
Except the house wasn’t hers.
“You … you couldn’t charge me rent. This place isn’t yours. Not yet. It’s not mine yet.” No, she wasn’t backing down easily. “Anyway, I should charge you a caretaker’s fee. I’ve cared for the cattle, taken care of the cow and my own horse, kept the house clean, chopped wood, and hired help to assist me. Shall I send you a bill for everything I’ve paid for, as well as my own services rendered?”
At that Abel reared back and let out a roaring laugh. “I like your spirit. And you’re a smart woman, too. I tell you what, you can stay here, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You marry me. Because I’m planning to move into my home on my claim. And right now, you’re in my home. It wouldn’t do for people to know we’re both living here.”
She sucked in a breath. “Marry you? I’ll do nothing of the sort.”
“Well, out you go, then.”
“Out?”
“I’m sure a lady of your station,” he said, eying her up and down, “wouldn’t want her reputation besmirched by living under the same roof as an unmarried man. Now, we get someone here straightaway, we can get hitched. You’ve got spunk, and you appear to keep a clean house. If you haven’t noticed, there’s slim pickings of women around here.”
“No.” She shook her head again. “No, I won’t marry you. Not now, or ever.”
“I realize I may have put you in a bad position, but I’m not heartless.” He grinned at her, his grizzly face swallowing up his pouchy dimples. “You have until Christmas Eve to vacate the premises.”
“But … that’s in only two days …”
“You’re smart enough. You’ll figure something out. And it’ll give me time to find someone to marry us. I hear the preacher might even make a quick stop right around Christmas Eve, so I imagine he’d marry us proper. If you change your mind.”
Her mind flailed around for a solution. “What if I buy the place from you?”
“You can’t buy what’s not mine yet.”
He took the papers from her and set them on the table. “Well, think about it. I’ll leave this copy with you. There are two.”
She had no more words as he took his leave and strode from the house, after giving her a wink.