Teresa Bodwell by Loving Miranda

mine. Or there was the big poker game at Rita’s. When Judge Jensen was in town, it wasn’t unusual for thousands of dollars to be on the table. Miranda sighed. She wasn’t sure how to invest her money, but she did have an idea of how to earn a small stake.
    She had to try for Mercy’s sake. It wasn’t possible for her sister to raise the kind of money Ben claimed he was owed. Not and have anything to eat this winter. Her sister wouldn’t fail to pay the hands. Or perhaps she would let the men go, if she couldn’t pay them. That would be a fine situation. Miranda could picture her pregnant sister out chasing the cattle, risking her health and the baby’s, too. That wasn’t going to happen if Miranda could help it.
    She’d sell the only thing she had to offer. As the town came into view, Miranda sat taller in the seat. She was going to need an ally for this venture. The best person for the job was Clarisse Wyatt. While Pa went in to talk to Doc Calvert, Miranda would have a private chat with Clarisse.
    It was only a few doors up the boarded walkway from Doc Calvert’s office to Wyatt’s store. Miranda marched past the assay office. Sheriff Bradford waved at Miranda from across the street; Miranda saluted him with the rolled papers she was carrying.
    When the weather was pleasant, the sheriff often sat out in front of his office, figuring he could prevent a lot of mischief by making himself as visible as possible. Whether it was due to the lawman’s presence or not, the street was quiet now.
    Wyatt’s Dry Goods Store was the second busiest place in Fort Victory. Rita’s saloon was the most visited place in town. Seemed as though more people would need the food and other goods that Wyatt’s had to offer, yet Rita’s drew the biggest crowds. Maybe it was just that the folks who frequented Rita’s were a bit noisier and more boisterous.
    The bells on the inside of the door chimed as Miranda pushed her way into the store. “Hello?” she called out, though she knew someone—Wendell, Clarisse, or one of the boys—would appear when they heard the bells. As she’d hoped, it was Clarisse who stepped into the store with a welcoming smile on her face. Miranda’s chest tightened at the sight of the baby on her hip, but she returned her friend’s smile.
    “Miranda!” Clarisse walked around the counter to greet her. “Look who’s here, Hal. It’s your Aunt Miranda.” The baby gurgled at his mother and she beamed at Miranda. “How are you settlin’ in? Everything the way you remember it?”
    “As you warned me, there are plenty of changes at the ranch.”
    “Everyone well?”
    “Mostly.” She took a deep breath. “Pa had one of his spells.”
    “No!” Clarisse looked worried. “He’s been doing so well.”
    Miranda shrugged. “Mercy said he has been fine except for the one spell. He’s over visiting with Doc Calvert now. Pa says it’s a waste of good money, but he figured seein’ the doc would be easier than arguing with Mercy.”
    “Your father is a wise man.”
    Miranda grinned. “You’re right about that.” Both women knew from experience that there was no point arguing with Mercy when she set her mind to something.
    “Let’s hope it’s just the one spell. I’d hate to see him like he was just after the accident.” Clarisse shifted the baby to her other side.
    Miranda nodded, remembering how easily confused Pa had been. They didn’t dare leave him alone for more than a few minutes at a time.
    “What can I do for you?” Clarisse’s question brought Miranda’s mind back to their conversation.
    “Oh.” Miranda swallowed. She had no idea why she was suddenly so nervous. “I won’t take a lot of your time.” Miranda walked over to the counter. “I wondered . . .” She sucked in a deep breath. “I have a business proposition for you.”
    As Miranda’s mouth was too dry to speak, she spread the papers over the counter and turned them so that Clarisse could see her drawings. It