The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,24
I’d be lost without you.”
She stepped back, tucked the pistol into the band of her breeches, then strode toward the door.
Behind her, Butler called out, “If you decide to shoot him for whatever it is he’s done this time, don’t kill him. You would not look good behind bars, m’girl. Please try to restrain yourself this once.”
Adrianna nodded without looking back. She headed to the barn, serenaded by the rat-tat-tat of the carpenters nailing down the rafters for her new addition. She should borrow one of their hammers and pound some sense into that devilish cowboy, she thought spitefully. She had allowed Cahill to make a fool of her because she had fallen for his suave charade. Heavens, she had seen through the practiced charm and silver-tongued flattery of enough adventurers and charlatans in Boston. How humiliating to be fooled by that rugged cowboy!
“You sure you’ll be all right riding off by yourself?” Ches asked worriedly when she bounded onto Buckshot’s back, then reined east. “There’s bears and lobos lurking around this area, even during daylight hours.”
“I’ll be fine.” She gouged the dapple-gray gelding in the flanks to race toward the fence separating her ranch from the 4C. “My cattle had better not be in Cahill’s pasture,” she growled as she raced off.
Quin glanced up and glared at Boston, her hair billowing around her as she flew across the pasture like a witch on her broom. The long-legged gray thoroughbred ate up the ground in graceful strides, he noted. Quin would have admired Boston’s horse and her riding skills if he weren’t so furious with her latest prank. As it was, he stared at her through a red haze and waited for her to approach so he could bite her head off.
“Get off my property, you thief!” she yelled at him as she brought Buckshot to a skidding halt.
“Me?” he roared, then made a stabbing gesture toward a dozen longhorns grazing in her pasture. “How many of your men did you pay a bonus to burn your brand over my fresh brand?”
“Don’t be an ass, Cahill,” she snapped back, her green eyes throwing hot sparks. “And don’t pretend to be the injured party here. A half-dozen of my pedigree heifers are missing. I have no doubt you stole them from this pasture to breed to those mongrel longhorns you call a prize herd!”
Quin snorted in disgust. “I wouldn’t want your white-faced cattle rubbing hides with my hardy breed.”
Her chin lifted and she glowered at him. “Herefords are prized for their adaptability to rugged terrain and harsh climates. At least my cattle have genetics and they are known for their good dispositions,” she flashed. “Unlike you and your wild-eyed herds that stampede with little provocation.”
Quin thrust out his arm to call her attention to the fresh brand on his cattle. “Explain that, Boston. Is this your idea of turning a profit? Stealing the neighbors’ cattle and selling them as your own? Was that your father’s policy, too?”
She reined her dapple-gray thoroughbred up beside him, her breasts heaving with each angry breath. Ordinarily, Quin would have been distracted by her arresting feminine assets, but not today. He was too angry. As angry as he’d been since his brothers and sister betrayed his parents’ dreams and left him to do all the work. Now he was being betrayed by the attraction he felt for a woman who didn’t even belong in his world. A woman who had struck off to be something besides who she was. Just like Bowie, Chance and Leanna. Damn it, Boston was just like them! Maybe that’s what aggravated him so much.
“What the blazes?”
Adrianna’s surprised tone of voice jerked him from his frustrated musings. He studied her closely, then reminded himself that she was an accomplished actress who had made him believe their feud had ended and they were on amicable terms. Ha! She had buried her hatchet, all right. In his back!
“Amazing that you can feign surprise when you’ve been caught red-handed,” he said scathingly. “I can smell burned hide on my cattle.”
She jerked up her head in defiance. “I am not responsible for this.”
“You mean you weren’t on hand when the deed was done?” He smirked. “Don’t toss out misleading comments to make yourself look innocent, Boston. One of my men saw torchlights here last night.” He waited for her to follow him a short distance, then he pointed to the ashes of a small campfire. “And here is where you and your thieving cowboys heated your