Montana Legend (Harlequin Historical, No. 624)
“Seated at the kitchen table, Milt slurped the last of the coffee from his cup. “Heard in the saloon last night that Buchanan sold his land to some drifter. For nothin’ more than a song.”
Sarah heard Pearl exhale in frustration. She didn’t know what had gone on with old Buchanan, but she knew her uncle. Milt wasn’t a man of high moral fiber.
Half listening, she finished wiping dry the last of the baking dishes and cracked the oven door to check on the pies. Golden and bubbling. Perfect. She donn...ed the oven mitts and carried the pie plates to the windowsill to cool.
“Surely not to a drifter!” Aunt Pearl was beside herself. “We can’t have someone like that for a neighbor. What was the old man thinking?”
“Hard to say, and after all I done for him. All I know is that no drifter is gonna take what’s mine.” Milt’s chair screeched against the wood floor as he pushed away from the table. “Sarah, you bring me out a slice of that pie when it’s cool enough to cut.”MoreLess
Sarah heard Pearl exhale in frustration. She didn’t know what had gone on with old Buchanan, but she knew her uncle. Milt wasn’t a man of high moral fiber.
Half listening, she finished wiping dry the last of the baking dishes and cracked the oven door to check on the pies. Golden and bubbling. Perfect. She donn...ed the oven mitts and carried the pie plates to the windowsill to cool.
“Surely not to a drifter!” Aunt Pearl was beside herself. “We can’t have someone like that for a neighbor. What was the old man thinking?”
“Hard to say, and after all I done for him. All I know is that no drifter is gonna take what’s mine.” Milt’s chair screeched against the wood floor as he pushed away from the table. “Sarah, you bring me out a slice of that pie when it’s cool enough to cut.”MoreLess
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