Give My Love to Rose(1st in Outlaw Series)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"I don't have another payment for you yet," Rose whispered on the porch as she pulled her threadbare shawl tighter around herself and shivered in the cold.

The slick dressed banker from Millerton simply shook his head. "I have to have a payment, Mr. Howell, or I am going to be forced to take what you owe in collateral."

Rose glanced at the cabin and felt a touch of panic. "Mr. Winston, please, you can't take our home! Not in the middle of winter!"

A fit of coughing overtook Rose and her lungs began to burn as her breath left her. Her throat was sore and her chest burning when the coughs finally began to subside and she gripped the porch banister tightly.

"You should see a doctor over that cough," Mr. Winston noted, his thick black brow raising.

"I have no money for a doctor," Rose countered. "Just as I have no money for your payment. Please Mr. Winston, give me until the spring and I'll think of some way to pay you back. You can't take our home from us in the winter.. we have nowhere to go!"

"That's not my problem, Mrs. Howell," Mr. Winston replied with an uninterested shrug as he glanced at the two mares in the corral.

Rose clutched at her shawl and turned her face away from the burning wind. "Please, Mr. Winston, have a heart," she pleaded. "I'll do anything to keep a roof over my son's head."

Mr. Winston's gaze returned to her and the lust in his gray eyes caused Rose's heart to thunder with fear as she took a quick step back. "Anything?" he whispered.

Rose nearly tripped over the rocking chair as she took another quick step back and grabbed the wall to steady herself. "I'll get you your money," she vowed.

"One month," Mr. Winston replied, his gaze trailing down her body and causing Rose to feel exposed, vulnerable and sick. "You have one month to pay me and if you don't have the money when I return then I will take my payment however I see fit."

"I'll have your money," Rose vowed, squaring her shoulders bravely even as she trembled inside.

Winston reached out his hand and ran a long, slender finger down her cheek. Rose's knees shook with fear as the man removed his hand, tipped his hat and left the porch. "One month," he repeated as he mounted his waiting horse.

Rose watched him ride away before collapsing in the rocking chair. Despite the coldness of the morning, Rose was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and her heart was beating far too quickly. Her every breath sent knives into her chest and her head was dizzy.

Rose was sick.

There was simply no getting around that fact. And there was no getting around the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. Rose didn't have time to be sick. Rose would not build up another credit at the docs for herself—and what money she had left from Langston had to be saved to get them through until she could make more.

Rose rarely fell sick and generally when she did, she got better in time without the aid of medicine. She had to believe this time would be just the same.

Rose had too many other worries. She had no idea how to come up with another payment for the banker. He wasn't happy with only part of what she owed—he wanted the entire amount and Rose simply did not have it. Even if Rose cleaned twenty houses and patched one hundred pants, she wouldn't have the three-hundred dollars that Winston Meade was demanding.

Rose knew that the next time, Mr. Winston rode in, she would have to greet him with her rifle. After his threats, Rose new the next meeting wouldn't be a professional one. If Winston Meade thought that he was going to touch her, he had another thing coming.