Free Teresa Bodwell by Loving Miranda

Thad stepped up beside her and took her elbow. “He’s with his grandfather at the moment. I’ll fetch him—” Thad kept his gaze steadily on Benjamin. “After we’ve had a chance to visit.”
    Miranda watched Thad holding his wife possessively. He was marking his territory as surely as any wolf might do. His wife. His house. His son.
    Benjamin smiled at Thad—a fierce smile that made it clear he accepted the challenge from the bigger man. Miranda found herself grinning, too. There was something about Ben’s confident posture that made him seem as big as Thad. In fact, Ben must have been two inches shorter, and he was not nearly as broad. Miranda reminded herself she should be loyal to her brother-in-law, but she hated seeing any man use his size to intimidate.
    Thad was the first to turn away. He pulled Mercy close and guided her into their small house.
    “Reckon I could fix some coffee,” Miranda said as she followed the others into the kitchen.
    “That would be nice.” Lansing caught her eyes, and it was a moment before Miranda remembered to move. She reached for the coffee pot and set to work as the others settled into chairs around the table.
    “I’ll come right to the point,” Benjamin started. “I’m here to see to my nephew and to get the money my brother owed me.”
    “Arthur owed you money?” Thad turned to his wife.
    “You’re meaning to visit Jonathan?” Mercy’s voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat. “You don’t mean to . . . take him?” Miranda noticed her sister was clutching her husband’s hand.
    “Of course, I want to see my nephew . . . to make certain he’s healthy and well cared for—”
    “You have no need for concern, sir,” Thad said. “We love him as we would our own son. I promise you we’ll do everything in our power to keep him safe and well.”
    “I’m glad to hear it.” Benjamin leaned over the table, holding one gloved hand with the other. Miranda had yet to see the man without his gloves on. “As to the money, I lent my brother five thousand dollars some years ago. He was to pay that with interest by the end of last year.”
    “That’s impossible.” Mercy’s voice was quiet, but it held a note of authority that caused Lansing to turn to her. “A loan that size would have been in the books somewhere.”
    “It is not only possible, but quite true.” Ben pulled some papers out of his jacket pocket. “I have some of my brother’s letters here. Arthur wrote that his ranch was prospering. He’d invested the money I’d loaned him in a special breeding program, and he expected to earn a handsome profit once the cattle were ready for sale.” He turned to Thad. “I take it he was able to sell the cattle last fall, before his unfortunate accident.”
    Again, Thad looked to Mercy.
    “Arthur didn’t do any breeding.” She stared at Thad.
    “I don’t suppose . . .” Thad said. “Did he mention the breed?”
    “Something about Herefords imported from England, I believe.”
    Thad muttered something that might have been “hell.”
    Mercy sighed. “It was us. Our ranch. We imported the Herefords with money Arthur loaned us.”
    Ben shrugged. “He only said he was investing. I assumed he was doing the breeding himself, but he might well have invested in your ranch.” He turned to Thad. “Now, I understand, sir, that you are the trustee of my nephew’s property.”
    Thad nodded. “My wife and I are both acting as trustees for Jonathan.”
    “Then you no doubt have had access to my brother’s accounts. You will know the extent of his assets—”
    “There’s no money,” Mercy interrupted. “None.”
    “That can’t be!” Lansing growled.
    Thad leaned across the table. “I’ll thank you to use a civil tone in my house, sir!” Thad’s voice had the edge of a steel blade.
    “I apologize for my sharpness.” Ben glared at Thad, then turned to Mercy. “But I find your wife’s words difficult to believe.”
    “It’s a fact, Mr.