high pressure into the ground to fracture the shale rock and release oil and gas. It’s not popular at the moment. There was even a documentary made about the dangers. That’s one reason we don’t invest in it.”
“Cardman,” she mused.
“He’s a shady character,” he affirmed. “He’s known for buying up scrubland from unsuspecting landowners and then putting up operations on it. Several people have sued him. He just moves to another state and keeps going.”
“Shame.”
“Really.”
SHE MENTIONED IT to her mother when they were loading the last silver tray with hors d’oeuvres that evening, just before the guests congregated in the ballroom.
“Fracking,” her mother mused. “What a nasty sort of operation it sounds.”
“I know we need oil. Nobody wants to live in grass huts and walk fifty miles to a city,” Morie stated. “But there are safe ways to extract oil, and then there’s this high-speed injection fracturing. That woman I told you about kept trying to get Mallory to sell her friend some scrubland on his property. She didn’t say why, but now I’m curious.”
“You should mention it to your uncle Danny. He knows the Kirks.”
“I might do that.”
Shelby touched her daughter’s cheek. The scratch had healed, and the skin was soft and velvety and blemishless, just like her own. “Sweetheart, are you really going to marry Daryl?”
“Dad wants me to.”
“What do you want to do, Morena?”
Her dark eyes were sad. “I want to marry for love,” she replied. “But when it isn’t returned, maybe it’s best to settle for someone honest and kind that you really like. Daryl is a wonderful person.”
“He truly is. But if you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you, the two of you are cheating each other.” Her face was solemn. “I married for love. I’ve never regretted it. Not once.”
“You were lucky,” Morie said with a smile.
“Eventually.” Shelby chuckled. “Oh, if you’d known your father as he used to be!” She rolled her eyes. “It was like domesticating a wolf!”
“It was?” Morie laughed.
“Worse! A grizzly bear.” She pursed her perfect lips. “Your Mallory Kirk sounds just like your father. They’d butt heads at first, but then they’d be friends.”
“Chance would be a fine thing.” Morie sighed.
“I don’t know. Life is funny,” Shelby replied. “You never know what surprises are in store for you.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Morie had reason to remember that odd statement. Mallory Kirk walked in the door with Gelly Bruner.
Morie, standing beside Daryl, watched them come in with cold eyes. Her heart was cutting circles in her chest, but she was trying to act normally. In her exquisite white couture gown, with its thin strip of gold trim, and her long hair in an elegant upswept hairdo, dripping diamonds, she was the epitome of the wealthy debutante. Gelly was dressed in last year’s fashion, again, a black dress that was passable but nothing to stir comment. Mallory, in evening dress, was impressive even if he didn’t have movie-star looks. His tall, fit body was made for evening clothes. He looked elegant, if somber.
Morie saw her father moving toward Mallory with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“You must be Kingston Brannt,” Mallory said, extending a hand. “I’m Mallory Kirk. My brothers and I have a ranch in Wyoming. I came to get one of those seed bulls I’ve read so much about in cattle journals.”
King didn’t extend his own hand. He looked at the other man with black eyes that could have cut diamond. “I know who you are.”
Mallory seemed puzzled. “This is my friend, Gelly Bruner.”
“Mr. Brannt, I’ve heard so much about you,” she purred.
King didn’t even look at her.
“I’ve never seen so many famous people,” Gelly was gushing. “You must know all the rich people on earth!”
“They’re friends, Miss Bruner,” King said curtly. “I don’t choose them for their bank balances.”
“Of course not,” she said quickly.
“Hello, there,” Danny Brant said to Mallory, and he did shake hands. “How are your brothers?”
“Working, as usual. Good to see you again.”
“Same here.” He glanced at his brother, who was still seething. “We’re always happy to have fellow cattlemen visit.”
“I can’t get over the decorations,” Gelly enthused. “I’d love to know where you found so many antique roses!”
“Oh, that would be my niece. She’s crazy about them,” Danny said easily. “Her fiancé had a set of rings made for her with the design. There she is! Come over here, honey.”
He was setting the cat among the pigeons and grinning. King was irritated that his brother had stolen his thunder, because he’d had something