"If you have come to offer charity, Mr. Langden, you can turn your wagon around," Cora said firmly. "We manage our own affairs." Josiah stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs. "I am not a man who gives charity, Mrs. Thornton. I am a man who makes investments."
Cora frowned. "Investments?" Josiah looked down at the red flannel. Then he looked back at Cora. "I heard the conversation in the store," Josiah said quietly.
"I heard what was said to your daughter." Nelly shrank back a little. Josiah looked directly at the little blonde girl. His eyes were kind. "I bought this fabric," Josiah continued, "because I refuse to let Harriet Gable have it."
"But I have no use for 40 yards of flannel. My ranch hands don't want it. And my daughter says red is not her color." Eliza nodded solemnly. "It clashes with my boots."
Josiah looked back at Cora. "I need someone to turn this into winter shirts for my men," Josiah said. "I hear you are the finest seamstress this side of the ridge. I would like to hire you at fair wages." Cora stared at him.
She looked at the vibrant, beautiful cloth. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was offering her money without offering her shame. "And," Josiah added, his voice dropping slightly, "I would ask that you use the first few yards to make a dress for your daughter. Consider it a signing bonus."
Cora's breath hitched. She looked at Nelly. Nelly was staring at the red fabric. Her blue eyes were wide. She looked as if she were looking at a fire on a freezing night.
"Why are you doing this?" Cora asked softly. Josiah looked at his own daughter, who was now smiling at Nelly. "Because a town that laughs at a child," Josiah said, "is a town that needs to be reminded of its manners." He stepped up and handed the heavy bolt to Cora. Cora took it.
The cloth was thick. It was beautiful. "Thank you," Cora whispered. "I expect the shirts by the end of the month," Josiah said, all business once again.
He turned to leave. But as he reached the wagon, he stopped. He looked out over the Thornton property. He studied the tree line, then the gentle slope of the valley toward the creek. His eyes narrowed.
"Mrs. Thornton," Josiah said, "did your husband own the water rights to that creek?" Cora looked confused. "Yes. The deed covers the water all the way to the old marker." Josiah's jaw tightened.
"Have you had visitors lately?" he asked. "Men with surveying equipment?" Cora hesitated. "Last week, I saw two men near the ridge. When I walked out with my rifle, they rode off. I thought they were just lost."
Josiah shook his head. "Men like that are never lost." He reached into his coat and pulled out the folded paper from the bank. He walked back and handed it to Cora. "What is this?" Cora asked.