LITMIR.BIZ

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shook his head. “Not Paul. He’d work from sunup to sundown. Alone.”

      “But I—I’ve never—” She couldn’t even begin to imagine herself planting seeds or feeding those big black and brown cows or the squawking chickens she’d spotted.

      Once, in a letter, she’d told Paul that she’d gladly work beside him on the farm. She’d meant every word. She wanted to love what he loved. But she’d pictured scattering flower seeds or filling a small basket with carrots she’d picked herself. She hadn’t imagined running the place.

      “I know this is a lot to think about.” Ben braced his hands on his knees. “Paul did say that if by summer’s end you aren’t happy here that you can sell the place and do with the money what you will.”

      She gave her head a distraught shake. “I couldn’t do that to him.”

      “Well, Paul seemed to think you might…that you might need some help.” Aaron looked about as taut as a tightly strung bow. “I promised him I’d help, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

      With the forced way he’d said those last few words, Hope would’ve guessed that his mother had been standing behind him, twisting his ear.

      She absolutely did not want him helping out of some sense of duty. “I’m sure I can manage.”

      Aaron gave her an I-don’t-believe-you-for-a-second look. Quite honestly, she didn’t believe herself either. Why in the world would she make such a claim? She could barely saddle a horse, let alone run a farm.

      But when she thought of Paul’s tremendous generosity and thoughtfulness, she couldn’t bear the thought of not doing her best to honor his efforts with toiling of her own. “I’ll do my best to make sure his hard work isn’t wasted.”

      “I’m sure you mean well, but this farm is a lot to take on. And I promised him I’d help,” Aaron reiterated as though to convince himself. He stood and crossed to the mantel, his well-worn boots scuffing across the polished wood floor. With his back to Hope, she could see the tension bunching his muscles beneath his ecru shirt as he leaned against the mantel. “I also promised him that I’d take care—” he pivoted slow and steady, peering at her as though he faced a firing squad “—take care of you.”

      Hope couldn’t move her gaze from him as his words settled over her. For some reason, instead of bringing her comfort, they annoyed her. How could Aaron think that he could take Paul’s place? Or that she needed his help? “Take care of me?”

      He glanced at Ben, who gave him the slightest raise of an eyebrow and inclination of his head. Then Aaron slid his focus to Zach, who held out his hands as if to say, “It’s up to you.”

      With a cough, Aaron turned his complete attention to Hope, and for some reason she wanted to run all the way back to the train station. He’d been avoiding her gaze since the moment she’d introduced herself, and now that his focus was bearing down so totally upon her, she squirmed under the intensity.

      But she had nowhere to go. Apparently she had money now, but she also had a farm to run.

      “I—I know this is awkward. It is for me, too, but I…well, it meant something to Paul when I promised to take care of you.”

      “What, exactly, do you mean?” She forced herself to stay seated.

      She’d never run from difficult circumstances. Ever. When her family lost their fortune, she’d held her head high and found work at a bakery. And when her fiancé began showing signs of regret, she’d quietly bowed out of the relationship—her family hadn’t even known of the real reason the engagement had been called off.

      “I promised to hold on to hope.” His voice broke. His throat visibly constricted. “In Paul’s mind that meant that I’d marry you.”

      Hope strained to keep her shock from contorting her face, but she was pretty sure that she failed—miserably.

      How could he possibly think that she would want a marriage based out of obligation? She’d rather be a spinster for the rest of her life.

      Standing, she willed her arms to remain at her sides as she looked him square in the eye. His words pierced her soul, pricking the raw wound that still gaped from Jonas.

      She wouldn’t marry Aaron now—even if he dropped to his knees and begged. She barely even knew him. Besides, she could list off ten different reasons why this man had likely never married: his emotionless, unfeeling approach to things of great importance, being first and foremost on her list.

      “So, I guess that settles it then.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “How soon do you want the wedding?”

      “There isn’t going to be a wedding.”

      Her simple, measured answer took Aaron aback. With the fanciful way she’d likely been raised, he thought for sure she’d find relief in the offer and that she’d be glad to have someone take care of her.

      “No?” He looked for some kind of hesitation in her gaze.

      “No.”

      Though his pride was a little stung, the way she stared down her nose at him made him immensely glad she’d just declined his offer. They were as different as night and day. And she was nothing like Ellie.

      He wasn’t exactly sure what Paul had seen in the woman, although it could’ve been very easy for her to hide her true colors in letters. She was a highfalutin city slicker. The way she held her head high, he guessed that she probably considered herself above those here in the West.

      But she didn’t seem dull. In fact, she struck him as being intelligent, so why would she travel all the way from the East if she knew what she was getting herself into? Had it truly been for love?

      She slid a hand down the buttoned front of her waistcoat and then adjusted it as if it was askew. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I’ll go outside for a breath of fresh air.”

      Her heeled, brown-booted feet tapped in quiet succession from the room and to the front door where she grabbed her parasol on the way outside.

      After she’d made it down the steps, Aaron collapsed onto the sofa next to Zach. He held his head in his hands, willing the incessant pounding that had started suddenly to stop.

      “Do you think you could’ve been any more insulting?” Ben’s terse voice reverberated in Aaron’s head. “I mean, really, Aaron. So, I guess that settles it?”

      “How soon do you want the wedding?” Zach mocked.

      He glared at them. “What was I supposed to say?”

      Ben gave his head a sorry shake. “I don’t know, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

      “A woman doesn’t want to feel like some obligation,” Zach scolded, slapping his knee.

      Narrowing his gaze, Aaron turned to peer at him. “And how would you know? You’re not even married.”

      “True. But do you think Ellie would’ve wanted to be proposed to in that manner?”

      Aaron pulled a hand over the back of his neck, trying to massage away the pain. He scrambled for some reasonable excuse to support his actions, but no matter what justification he grasped for, it fell apart in his hands. “No. But this is different. It wasn’t a proposal—well, not exactly, anyway. It was more like a business arrangement.”

      Zach just stared at him in that way he had that made a man feel small. “Regardless, that sure was a dead-fish way to go about it. Remind me never to ask you for romantic advice.”

      Aaron held his hands up. “Believe me. That area of my life has been sealed and shut for good. There is no way I’ll ever love again.”

      “Don’t be so sure,” Ben cautioned, raising his brows for a fleeting moment.

      Aaron dragged his hand over his scruffy

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