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all night thinking about it.
    The following morning as Gideon swept off the boardwalk, a friendly voice hailed him.
    “Hey Gideon.”
    Gideon looked up.
    His friend, Ty Sawyer, set the brake on his wagon and hopped down. A thatch of blond hair stuck out in a dozen directions when he removed his sweat-stained hat, and his lopsided grin reminded Gideon of the trouble they used to get into together in their childhood days.
    “Hey Ty. Haven’t seen you in town for nigh onto a month.”
    They tromped into the store where Ty promptly helped himself to a handful of gumdrops from the jar on the counter. “Came in for supplies. A pound of coffee, cornmeal, couple pounds of bacon, beans, some white sewing thread, and some ten-penny nails.” He popped an orange gumdrop in his mouth and looked around. “Where is everybody?”
    Gideon propped the broom in the corner. “Probably over at the Willow Creek Emporium.”
    “Hmph, Kilgore’s place? It’s not likely I’ll ever do business with Kilgore again. That land deal soured my opinion of him.”
    Gideon scooped a handful of nails and dumped them into a sack. “Is this enough?”
    Ty glanced into the sack. “That’ll do. I had the down payment for that piece of bottomland I’d been looking at. You know the place where we used to hunt rabbits?” Without waiting for Gideon’s reply, Ty continued. “Mr. Sewell said the bank would carry a loan for five years.” Ty shook his head. “A week later he turned me down, and I found out it was Kilgore who denied the loan.”
    “How could he do that? Mr. Sewell’s the bank president, not Kilgore.”
    Ty chewed another gumdrop. “I heard Kilgore’s bought out fifty-one percent of the bank stock.”
    Gideon scowled. “But why would he refuse you a loan?”
    Ty snorted. “Never got a straight answer on that, but you know who owns that piece of bottomland now?”
    Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Not Kilgore.”
    “Mm-hmm.”
    “Why? He’s not a farmer.”
    “No, he ain’t. Mr. Sewell told me the
new owner
might sell me the property, but the price suddenly tripled.”
    Footsteps on the boardwalk drew Gideon’s attention. Kilgore stood in the open door, an arrogant smirk on his face. He puffed his stubby cigar and ambled inside.
    Ty counted out his money and handed it to Gideon before picking up his purchases. “See you around, Gideon.” He headed toward the door.
    “Thanks, Ty.”
    The young man sent a stiff nod in Kilgore’s direction. “Mr. Kilgore.”
    Kilgore stuck his thumbs in his suspenders and replied with a condescending snort. “Sawyer.” Kilgore sauntered to the counter. “Say, Maxwell, you should come to the hotel and see the pretty little tart I just hired to wait tables. She’s sassy and holier-than-thou, but I’ll tame her in short order.”
    The disrespectful reference to Tessa set Gideon’s teeth on edge. “That’s no way to talk about a lady, Kilgore.”
    Kilgore sneered and blew a puff of smoke in Gideon’s direction. He turned and cast a wide glance around the store. “When you get ready to unload this dump, you know where to find me.” He exited and strolled down the boardwalk.
    Self-accusation burned in Gideon’s chest. If only he could have hired Tessa himself. The prospect of Kilgore paying Tessa an honest wage for an honest day’s work filled him with misgivings.

    Tessa’s feet throbbed as she bumped open the kitchen door with her hip. Her stomach growled at the aroma of the beef stew, pork chops, steak, and fresh biscuits on her tray. She forced a smile as she placed steaming platters before three men at a corner table.
    “You’re new here, ain’t ya?”
    Tessa set a basket of warm biscuits on their table and started toward the next table where a party waited to order, but the man in the plaid shirt and leather vest grabbed her hand.
    “Hey now, don’t be in such a hurry.” The dark-haired cowboy waggled his thick eyebrows. “Why don’t you stick around, and maybe me and you