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such a thing? "How do you know she's dying?"
    "Doc says her sickness, it is the same thing what killed her mother. A cure, there is none. He says, the doctor, that she will not last much longer. She is like a sister to me. Hate like hell to see her so bad off, even if it sets my folks and me up real nice." His cockiness returned and he laughed. "Then when you starve out, you murdering sonofabitch, we will take over your place."
    "I haven't murdered anyone—not yet—and I'll be around long after you've pulled out, Montoya." Micah stood. He fought the need to plant one of his clenched fists squarely into Eduardo's smirking face, then work through the rest of the saloon's patrons.
    Zach rose and laid a hand on Micah's arm. "Time to leave."
    Micah exhaled a whoosh of breath, and with it some of the anger drained from him. "Yeah, you got that right." He turned and walked out.
    The sound of Eduardo's laughter behind him grated on his nerves. Much as he'd like to pound the smile off Eduardo's face, he refused to be baited into a fight. No point in giving that hardassed Sheriff Ryan a chance to arrest him. He untied his horse and swung into the saddle.
    Zach mounted and waited for Micah's lead. "You heading back to the ranch?"
    He slumped in defeat. "Nope, reckon I have unfinished business with Hope Montoya."
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    When Micah and Zach arrived at the Hendersons's, Micah knocked politely.
    Theresa opened the door again. “Oh, thank heavens you’ve returned. Please come in.”
    Micah hung on to his hat brim with a death grip. "Please let Miss Montoya know I'm here to talk about her offer."
    Theresa frowned. "Your earlier visit upset her terribly.” She gestured to her left. “She’s resting at the end of the hall. Please go on back."
    Micah sent Zach a pleading look, then left to stride down the hallway at the opposite end of the house from where he'd talked to Hope earlier. A passel of grasshoppers jumped around in his stomach. Steel bands clamped around his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. He flexed his shoulders to ease the strain. Could those muscles be any tighter? Digging for water was easier than this.
    He hoped he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life.
    He paused in the doorway. The faint scent from Mrs. Henderson's rose bushes drifted in the open windows. Frilly white curtains moved gently with a faint breeze, refreshing the overly warm room. Hope lay on the tester bed propped up on a pile of pillows. Against the pink pillows and coverlet, her skin appeared translucent, as if she faded away minute by minute.
    She'd removed her shoes but still wore the lilac dress. The sight of her feet clad in white stockings surprised him. He made out her toes through the thin fabric. Seeing her like this seemed oddly intimate.
    Her wide, sherry-brown eyes were red-rimmed and she watched him intently. She said nothing, but twisted a lacy white handkerchief. Waiting. Appearing desolate.
    He stood before her, hat in hand. Mindful of the open windows, he spoke quietly. "I've thought about what you asked."
    She chewed on her lip, but a spark of anticipation lighted in her pretty eyes. Dang, how could he ever have denied her? He’d almost let his stiff-necked pride prevent him from joining up with the only woman he’d ever wanted, a woman who was now desperate for help.
    Pumping up his courage on a deep breath, he said, "If you still want me to, I'll do it."
    He saw the relief wash over her. It seemed she gained instant strength from his words, for she eased up and paused as if to clear her head, then swung her legs off the bed.
    "Today? Now?"
    He shrugged. "If that's what you want."
    She nodded. "We must hurry before my uncle learns my plans." As if every second counted, she slid off the bed and gathered her shoes from the floor.
    "You're over twenty-one. How can he stop you?"
    She sank onto a chair and placed her shoes on the floor in front of her. "He could lock me in my room and have me declared