September Rain by Mallory Kane Page A

yourself too late. Why don’t I escort you home to change, and we can have dinner at the hotel?”
    Hallie fought the urge to step backwards. She didn’t understand why the townspeople let Myers bully them. She saw right through his veneer of politeness it to the selfish, controlling man beneath. Why couldn’t everyone else? Why couldn’t they see that his hair was a too slick, his clothes too fancy, his manner too obviously insincere? Why couldn’t they see that his words never matched the calculating, greedy glint in his eyes?
    “We need to talk about our future too, Miss Hallie. It’s been three months since your father died. There’s no reason to wait. Your father was in favor of us marrying, you know.”
    “So you tell me,” Hallie retorted. “He never mentioned anything to me.” Myers had only begun speaking of it after her father’s first stroke, when it was no longer possible for him to speak.
    “Now Miss Hallie. You know I’m fond of you, and I would make you a good husband. And it’s not as if . . . .”
    Myers’ voice trailed off, but Hallie understood his intimation. It was not as if Hallie were a marriageable young woman with young men lined up to court her. She’d probably never marry if she didn’t jump at Myers’ offer. She’d already resigned herself to the life of an old maid. Eight years ago, at age twenty, after her mother died and the young man she was in love with married another girl, she’d come out to Montana with her father. On the border of the wilderness, hundreds of miles from civilization, there weren’t many eligible bachelors.
    So Hallie had helped her father run his general store until his stroke, then she had nursed him and run the store on her own.
    “Miss Hallie?”
    Myers’ oily voice grated on her nerves. She faced him and planted her fists on her hips. “Mr. Myers, whether you believe it or not, I am not at all interested in marriage. I am perfectly happy being a spinster and running my store. As I have told you before, I appreciate your kind offer, but no thank you.”
    Myers’ face turned red, and Hallie saw the rage he held in check. A thrill of fear rippled through her, which increased her own irritation to anger. She was not going to be intimidated by Brent Myers, or worse, fooled by him like everybody else in town seemed to be. She’d always gone her own way. Coming west with her father had been a bold move for a young, unmarried woman. Handling the store on her own for two years had been even bolder. She could handle Myers.
    As if he’d read her mind, Myers spoke. “You know, Miss Hallie, I hold the mortgage on your store.”
    She looked at him in mild shock. “Of course I know that. I make the payment to you on the first day of each month at the terms agreed upon by you and my father. What does that have to do with anything?”
    “I do hate to bear such tidings to you Miss Hallie, but your father let some payments lapse just before his unfortunate stroke.”
    Hallie couldn’t believe her ears. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. For once in her life, she was struck speechless.
    Brent nodded and lowered his gaze. “Yes, that's right. I'm truly sorry, Hallie. But I can show you in the account ledger. There are several payments missing.”
    Hallie finally regained her voice. “That’s impossible," she said hoarsely. My father was an honest man. A decent man. He prided himself on paying his debts. You must be mistaken, somehow."
    His face turning a deeper shade of red, Myers drew himself up and brushed an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve. “I do hope you’re not calling me a liar, Miss Hallie. Did he keep a ledger or receipts?”
    She did. She couldn’t keep up with purchases and sales in her head, like her father had. “Of course I have records of the payments I’ve made.” Even as she said the brave words, she knew she was avoiding Myers’ real question.
    “That's all well and good, but it's your father's debt we're talking