“I get the distinct impressionthat the lady doesn’t want you here, Mr. Davis.”
Scratch released Sarah and held up his hands. Sarah scrambled away to the far end of the kitchen. An angry red mark marred her slender throat, and Tabor had to strive hard to maintain a rational demeanor.
“Easy now. Turn around so I can see your face.” Tabor kept the gun trained on Scratch but took a step back to allow the man room to move.
“You have it all wrong, mister,” Scratch said, staring at the end of Tabor’s gun.
“Oh? How’s that?” Tabor squinted, a sure sign he was barely controlling his temper.
“She’s going to be working for me. I just came to see if I could help her pack.”
“What makes you think she’s moving?” Tabor maintained eye contact with the villain, though he would have liked nothing more than to check on Sarah.
“Ted Nates sold the place yesterday afternoon. I reckon that’s a pretty good indication.” Scratch shoved his hands in his pockets and puffed out his chest.
“Sarah, have you been served with any eviction notices?” Tabor asked.
Sarah shook her head.
“But they have to serve papers soon,” Scratch said, his eye twitching. “The new owner won’t want her here. He’ll be glad to get rid of the notorious unwidow and her half-breed brat.”
“You read the new owner’s mind?” Tabor tilted his head to one side, still squinting as he gazed at Scratch.
“Look, let’s, let’s be reasonable. The woman is down on her luck. I’m offering her honest employment and a place to live. Can’t fault a fellow for that, can you?”
“True,” Tabor replied. “but I have it on good authority that the new owner won’t mind if she stays right where she is.”
Obviously rather dense, Scratch frowned. “How can you know that? If Ted wouldn’t give me the buyer’s name, he sure wouldn’t give it to you."
“Who do you think the new owner is?” Tabor lifted both eyebrows.