Young.
Before debt.
Before Abigail.
Before sickness.
“Did she like it?”
Jedodiah answered softly.
“She loved it.”
“How do you know?”
“She wrote that in the deed book.”
Matilda opened her eyes.
“The what?”
“There’s a ledger.”
“Your mother kept records.”
“My kind of woman.”
“She wrote everything.”
“Feed purchases.”
“Traveler names.”
“Repairs.”
“Recipes sometimes.”
Matilda's heart tightened.
“Recipes?”
Jedodiah nodded.
“The stew.”
Tears rose instantly.
Matilda turned her face.
Damn him.
He pretended not to notice.
That kindness made it worse.
“I want to see it.”
She whispered.
“When the road opens.”
“I want to go.”
He nodded.
“Then we'll go.”
Matilda looked toward him.
“You say things like they're simple.”
“Most plans are.”
“Doing them is hard.”
“Yes.”
“What if Abigail has a legal assignment?”
“Then we fight it.”
“What if she owns my mother’s half?”
“Then you still deserve to know how.”
“What if Black Ridge is worth nothing?”
“Then you've got a beautiful worthless mountain.”
Matilda smiled through tears.
“And what if you don't like me after three days?”
Jedodiah looked at her.
“I don't need to like you to honor a deed.”
“That wasn't what I meant.”
He understood.
His eyes softened.