I suppose I owe you that much after yesterday. Once the supplies were brought inside far more than she had expected, including flour, beans, coffee, sugar, and even a small sack of hard candies. Delila put on a pot of coffee. The domesticity of the act felt strange given the circumstances. I should tell you, Yates began, sitting at her small kitchen table.
I'm not looking for a wife, Miss Prescott. The statement caught her off guard. I wasn't I know, he said quickly. But after what I said yesterday, I wanted to be clear. What I am offering is friendship, and if you're willing, a business arrangement.
Delilah's hand stilled on the coffee pot. What kind of arrangement? I've purchased land about 20 mi west of here. Good land with water and grazing enough for a decent herd. His eyes met her steadily.
I need a partner, someone to help me build it into something worthwhile. And you think that should be me? A disgraced woman you barely know? The skepticism in her voice was palpable. Yates leaned forward, his expression earnest.
I think you're a woman who needs a fresh start, same as me. Dallas isn't going to be kind to you, Miss Prescott. Not after yesterday. But out there, he gestured vaguely westward. Nobody knows us.
Nobody cares about our pasts and my condition. She asked quietly, one hand unconsciously moving to her stomach. A child is a blessing, not a burden, he said with a simplicity that caught her off guard. My own mother raised me alone after my father died. I know the hardship of it.
You're suggesting we pretend to be married, Delilah stated flatly. That we lie. I'm suggesting we help each other start again. He corrected. We would be partners in name and purpose, nothing more.
I need someone I can trust to help build a ranch. And you need somewhere safe to raise your child away from wagging tongues. Delilah studied him, trying to discern his true motives. "And what do you get out of this arrangement, Mr. Hawkins?" A shadow crossed his face.