knew within a few seconds Jeffery Filmore would be near enough to see them.
Shoving past Rowdy, she whispered, “Don’t sell your ranch.”
He’d raised his arms to hold her, but she was already in the doorway.
“Promise me!”
Jeffery’s voice boomed. “I thought I’d find you here, Laurel.”
Rowdy nodded and backed away so that the banker couldn’t see him standing behind her.
“I’m not much for the nonsense on the streets,” Jeffery complained. “In fact, I’ll be glad when this whole thing is over and we can go back to normal.” He was getting closer. “I thought I’d come in and have a cup of tea with you. Your father and I have been talking and there are a few plans you need to be working on.”
“No.” Laurel held up her hand, trying to think. “No tea. Not now. Since you’re here I’m sure it would be all right for me to have tea in the café.”
“It’s more of a bar. No proper place for you.”
Rowdy moved behind the door so that he wouldn’t be seen until the banker was well into the room. And he couldn’t step inside with Laurel blocking the door.
“I’ve heard,” she said. “But I understand they serve pie in there and I’d love a piece, dear.” The endearment tasted sour on her tongue, but she had to get him out of the way before he noticed Rowdy.
Filmore frowned at her as if he thought she had taken ill. “All right,” he finally said, more in answer to the pie than her.
“I might have a slice myself.”
Laurel tugged the door closed as she followed the big man.
A moment before she let go, she felt Rowdy’s fingers reach for hers, but she couldn’t take the chance of ruining their dream now. He didn’t know what was going on or how her father planned to cheat him, but she prayed he trusted her enough to follow her advice.
Chapter 11
Rowdy moved around the door frame in time to see Laurel disappear with the banker. Filmore laid his hand at the small of her back as if he had the right to touch her and wanted everyone to know it.
Anger washed over him as the scars of five years log-piled in his thoughts.
Who did he think he was kidding? Laurel Hayes was a rich man’s daughter and he had one dollar to his name. She’d been sent away to school and he’d been sent to prison. The chance of her caring for him was about as likely as snow on a summer night.
He couldn’t deny she was attracted to him. He’d felt the sparks fly whenever they were within touching distance. They both liked the game they’d played the past few days, but it was just a game to her. A pastime to make the rodeo more interesting maybe. She’d have no supper waiting for him in a hotel room tonight. There’d be no lovemaking.
She’d called the pig “dear.” That one word kept sparking against his mind, sharpening anger with each memory. He would have thought five years of living with thieves and liars would have taught him not to believe anything anyone said.
He had no idea why she’d told him not to sell his land. Maybe that was part of the game she played also. She and Filmore were probably laughing about it right now over pie.
All he knew for sure was she left him and went with the banker. She could have told Filmore to wait a few minutes because she was busy talking to him. Or she could have introduced them as if they were equals. But she hadn’t. She’d shoved him aside. She’d refused his touch. She kept him out of sight because he was her dirty little secret.
Rowdy hit the hotel door at a run. He stopped by the grounds and took his pick of among the last few wild horses left to ride, then found Dan near the barn.
“What’s wrong?” the big Irishman asked the moment he saw Rowdy.
“Nothing.”
Dan frowned. “I would have guessed that right off.” He slapped Rowdy on the back. “You want to go down to pick out a mount? I’m thinking one of them might look sleepy or tired. That would be the one to ride. All you got to do is stay in the saddle, cowboy, and you’ll win this thing.”
Rowdy didn’t answer or move toward the corral.
Dan watched him closely. “You don’t look like a man who cares if he wins.”
“I care,” Rowdy answered as he checked Cinnamon’s cinch, “but I’m not