Gail Barrett - Cowboy Under Siege

“Tony,” he barked. “Take my truck and drive into Maple Cove. Leave word at the bars that we’re looking for extra men. Do the same in Honey Creek. I’ll ride your horse back to the barn and check fences along the way.” He glanced around at the men. “The rest of you get something to eat. I’ll bring the schedule by later.”

The ranch hands began to disperse. His eyes simmering with resentment, Tony dismounted and handed Cole his gelding’s reins. Cole fished his keys from his pocket and tossed them his way. “Tell them I’m paying overtime,” he added.

He hoisted himself into the saddle, then took off after Bethany, ignoring the men’s speculative looks. He needed to check his fences—nothing more. And if Bethany happened to be riding the same way …

He caught up with her a few minutes later as she climbed the hill. “Thanks for helping today.”

Her eyes met his, and a familiar jolt changed the rhythm of his pulse. She’d always had the damnedest effect on him. One glance across the cafeteria in high school, and he’d fallen for her hard.

“I enjoyed it,” she said, her throaty voice conjuring up erotic memories he’d tried for years to forget. “It feels good to be on a horse again.”

“I’ll bet.” They’d spent some of their best moments together on horseback, racing across these hills. He guided the gelding toward the fence, checking the barbed wire for problems as he rode along, but his eyes kept returning to her. A flush tinged her sculpted cheeks. Her straight black hair fluttered against her back. She looked good riding beside him. Right .

But she hadn’t cared enough about him to stay .

“I’m sorry about the cows,” she said.

“Yeah.” He shifted his gaze to the land bordering his fence. “I was hoping to turn a profit this year, enough for a down payment on Del Harvey’s place.”

“He’s selling?”

Cole nodded. “He can’t make a go of it anymore, not with property taxes so high.” Ever since celebrities had discovered the valley, real estate prices had soared.

“How big is his ranch?”

“A thousand acres. The land’s good. Lots of native grasses, year-round herds of elk. There’s a movement underway to get cattle off federal lands,” he explained. “If that goes through I could lose my BLM lease. Del’s ranch would provide me with summer pasture, enough so I wouldn’t have to reduce my herd.” But every dead cow—and dollar lost—jeopardized that plan.

Bethany looked toward the mountains, a small crease bisecting her brow. “How long will he hold on?”

“I don’t know. He’s been getting calls from developers. They’re offering him a lot of money. He wants to keep the ranch intact, but if I don’t come up with the down payment soon …”

His chest tight, he scanned the huge granite peaks scraping the sky, the aspens glimmering in the waning sunlight like burnished gold. He inhaled deeply, soaking in the beauty of the land. He couldn’t begin to express his feelings for this place. This wild land touched something inside him, giving him a reason to live.

And he’d do everything in his power to preserve it, to make sure future generations could breathe the crisp, clean air and absorb the majestic views. In his mind, he didn’t own the land; he was its steward—a privilege he felt honored to have.

For several minutes, they rode without speaking. Shadows inched over the fields. White-tailed deer crept from a grove of trees. They crested a hill, startling a herd of antelope. The animals sprinted toward a pine-sheltered meadow where he and Bethany had first made love.

His pulse thudded fast at the memory. He’d been nineteen, and so tortured by lust for her that he could barely ride his horse. And when she’d stripped off her clothes amidst the wildflowers, baring her sleek, ripe curves to his gaze …

“That gate’s open,” she said.

Cole dragged his attention to where she pointed. “You’re right.” Grateful for the distraction, he tugged on the reins and trotted to the open gate. Bethany joined him a second later, and they both dropped to the ground. He handed her his reins, then strode over and secured the gate.

He paused to study the tire tracks in the grass. “They must have come through here on the way to the stream.” Which made sense. They weren’t far from a forest service road.

“You have any idea who’s doing this?” she asked.

“My father’s enemies, I guess.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because ever since he showed up we’ve been having problems—windows smashed, fences cut.” One of his father’s mistresses, Gloria Cosgrove, had even attacked him at the bank in town.

Her brows furrowed. “But why? I don’t understand the point.”

He tipped back his hat and sighed. “I think they’re trying to make him leave. Security’s tight at the ranch house. My grandmother was a little paranoid and had it rigged like Fort Knox. So if someone wants to hurt him, they need to get him away from the ranch.

“It’s no secret that we don’t get along.” Hell, he despised the man. His father had never kept a promise in his life—not to his wife, not to his children, and certainly not to the gullible constituents who kept voting him into power. “They probably figure if they make my life miserable enough, I’ll boot him out.”

But unlike the senator, Cole was a man who kept his word. He’d promised to protect his father and he would—no matter what he thought of him.

Bethany hesitated. “You don’t think it could be someone else … like one of your men?”

“Why do you ask that?”

She pulled a piece of leather from her pocket and handed it to him. He studied it for a moment, examining the braided horsehair design. “It looks like part of a bridle.”

“I found it in your field, not far from the stream. Any idea who it belongs to?”

He shrugged and handed it back. “Tony goes for that kind of thing. Why? You think he’s causing the problems?”

“Do you?”

He turned that over in his mind. “No. He’s worked for me for a couple of years now. He’s reliable.” He liked to booze it up on the weekends and brag about his conquests, but there was nothing criminal about that.

Her eyes thoughtful, Bethany stuffed the scrap back into her pocket. “Speaking of your men … I can help with the cattle while I’m here. My father doesn’t need me to do much. As long as I check on him occasionally, he’ll be fine.”

He opened his mouth to agree. But the glint in her eyes brought him up short. He recognized that look—the same stubborn resolve that had made her class valedictorian and earned her a full-ride scholarship to the university back east.

She had an agenda . And if that plan included snooping around and asking questions …

“Forget it,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t see how. And you said you needed more help.”

She was right. This was the do-or-die moment for the Bar Lazy K, the only paycheck he’d get all year. Everything hinged on getting those cattle to market—and to do that, he needed help. Even worse, he still had those hundred head stranded in the mountains. If he didn’t rescue them before that front moved in, he could lose even more of the herd.

But he refused to put Bethany in danger. And the thought of working beside her made everything inside him rebel. She dredged up too many memories, stirred up longings he’d worked too hard to subdue.

“You know I can do the work,” she said.

“That’s not the issue.” She could run rings around most of his hands.

“Then what is the issue?”

“Whoever’s killing my cows is armed. Dangerous.” And if she’d come across that shooter in the field … His belly contracted with dread.