The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,76
a pair of stained breeches in his trunk, too.”
Quin swore foully. “So they are working together.”
“They have been badmouthing each of us to keep our personal feud alive, as well as spreading speculations about that ridiculous curse,” she replied. “I’m willing to bet they are involved in rustling and extortion, as well.”
“Damn it to hell!” Quin roared.
“I think we should shoot them and be done with them,” Boston said vindictively. “It makes me furious when I recall how much frustration they have caused by stealing our cattle, talking behind our backs and setting fires.”
Quin grabbed the second pair of breeches and stuffed them in the gunnysack. “I think I’ll save the shooting until later. I’ll be waiting to see if those sneaky bastards join up after dark to swipe more cattle. I still haven’t found the dozen calves stolen this week.”
“I’m going with you,” she volunteered.
“No, you are not,” he said vehemently.
Quin knew the moment the words were out of his mouth that he’d wasted his breath. Boston flashed that fiery green glower he recognized at a glance. It offended her when he spouted orders. Every damn time. You’d think he’d have learned by now.
Her perfectly arched brow elevated to a challenging angle. “This involves me, my scorched house and my turncoat cowhand. I’m going. You are welcome to come with me.”
“Thanks,” he said caustically. “I was about to suggest the same thing myself.”
She smirked, then winked. “You’re learning, Cahill. You’re not as bad as I first thought. In fact, I’m actually beginning to like you.”
She preceded him out of the door to ride home for supper, as she had promised Butler. Quin watched the seductive sway of her curvaceous hips and sighed in defeat. He was crazy about Boston. He admired her spirit, her intellect and her keen wit. Not to mention her mesmerizing green eyes and enticing body that aroused him to the extreme. He also liked that she stood up to him, for him. She was a challenge he loved to face.
He wondered how much more she’d have to like him for her to move back to his big, lonely, quiet house and bring her adopted family with her.
She’d have to love him, he decided. Considering her mistrust of men and their ulterior motives, he doubted she’d allow herself to care that much for him or any other man.
Didn’t it figure that of all the women who were eager to share his name and his fortune, he desired a woman who didn’t want to marry him, even if he got down on bended knee and begged?
He’d laugh at the irony but it just wasn’t that damn funny.
Chapter Thirteen
Adrianna’s gaze narrowed in annoyance when she saw Ezra Fields, carrying an unlit torch, scuttle from Quin’s bunkhouse after dark. He dashed around the corner like the rat he was. Beside her, Cahill muttered a creative string of obscenities when Ezra skulked into the barn. He returned a few minutes later, leading the strawberry roan that had disappeared from the pasture shortly after supper.
“What do you suppose tonight’s excursion entails?” she murmured as she and Quin sat atop their horses, watching Ezra’s discreet departure from 4C headquarters.
“He isn’t carrying a can of kerosene,” Quin whispered back. “My guess is our cattle will go missing tonight.”
Adrianna reined behind the calving shed when Ezra glanced every which way to make sure no one saw him leave the premises. As expected, he lit the torch, then headed for the adjoining gate between the 4C and Mc Knight Ranch.
“Bastards,” Quin growled when Chester Purvis, riding the brown horse with white stockings, appeared in the moonlight. He also lit a torch as he approached. “Here.” Cahill handed Adrianna his spare Colt .45 but she shook her head.
“I have one of my own.”
“I hope you know how to use it, Boston, and I hope you won’t have to. It’s not too late for you to go home.”
“And let you have all the fun? Why do you think I came to Texas? It’s not to sit at home in the parlor and crochet doilies.”
“Well, don’t get shot,” he cautioned. “You won’t have any fun if you’re bleeding all over yourself.”
“Your concern is touching,” she mocked lightly. “I get all quivery inside, thinking how much you care.”
He mumbled something under his breath, then took off, following the tree-lined stream that eventually became Triple Creek—the main water source for her ranch and his.
Adrianna swore softly when she saw Ches grab fence cutters from his saddlebag. Methodically, he clipped the