the house.
Stepping up onto the Cales’ porch, Spring wondered sarcastically if she should wait for a man to open the door. Inside, the Chinese maid greeted her with a smile and took her shawl. Spring thanked her, drew in a calming breath, and followed the voices to the parlor. Once there she paused for a moment to survey the people in the well-furnished room with its dark emerald drapes and large portrait of Glenda in an off-shoulder, emerald gown hanging above the fireplace. The Millers were in attendance as were most of the area’s prominent ranchers, along with their wives. Upon seeing Spring, some of the women deliberately turned their backs.
“Spring,” Glenda said fondly. “Welcome. You look lovely.”
“Thanks. Regan and Colt couldn’t come, so I’m here to represent the family.”
“Are you still angry with me?”
“No, but I did manage to open the door without male assistance.”
Glenda smiled. “You’re going to pay me back for that sometime soon, aren’t you?”
“Probably.” Spring scanned the small crowd again. McCray, clad in a brown suit, was in a conversation with rancher Randolph Nelson and Heath Leary. As he glanced up, their eyes met, and she did her best to ignore the rush in her blood. He sent her a smile and a slight nod of greeting. She returned the gesture and thought about the invitation she wanted to extend. His suit wasn’t as fancy as the ones worn by Arnold and some of the others in the room, but it fit his lean frame and broad shoulders well and gave his appearance a level of sophistication she found appealing.
“Help yourself to the buffet,” Glenda said.
Before she could do so, her attention settled on someone else. Forcing down her anger, she asked in as casual a voice as could be managed, “What’s Matt Ketchum doing here?” By the glassy sheen in his glare he was already drunk.
Glenda sighed. “Arnold invited him. I’m sorry. I heard about the incident at the Irish Rose. Arnold hopes Ketchum and the people visiting him from New York will invest in the bank.”
Standing with Ketchum was the man who’d needed directions to Paradise. “Is he one of the friends?”
Glenda turned to see who she was referencing. “Yes. His daughter Hazel arrived with him, but she chose to stay in her room at Dovie’s. The younger man with him is a business associate. His name escapes me.”
Spring planned to avoid the lot of them. By then, McCray had excused himself from Nelson and was making his way to where she stood.
Glenda said, “I’m going to see to my guests. Thanks for coming, Spring.”
“You’re welcome.” But the entire time she was focused on the advancing McCray.
When he reached her side, he said, “Evening, Spring.”
“McCray.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Fine, too. You look very nice.”
“Thanks.”
The man who’d asked her for directions to Paradise turned her way. He appeared surprised by her presence and nodded a greeting. She responded tightly in kind before returning her attention to McCray, who’d glanced over to see who she’d greeted.
“Do you know him?” he asked.
“No. I was at Regan’s home when he stopped to ask for directions to town.” Refocusing on McCray, she asked, “Did you get enough information from my brother for your story?”
“I did. He was very forthcoming. I thought he’d be here tonight.”
“He’d planned to but was called away earlier this afternoon. A rancher was kicked in the head by one of his horses.”
“How on earth did that happen?”
“Had something to do with a horseshoe and a dog nipping the horse . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know the exact details, but the man was kicked. His son rode over to get Colt.”
“Your brother stays busy.”
“He does.”
A male voice interrupted them. “Thank you for those directions.”
Spring sighed and looked up into the cold blue eyes of the speaker. “Glad you arrived safely.”
“Name’s Avery Jarvis.”
“Spring Lee.”
Jarvis eyed McCray. “And you?”
“Garrett McCray.”
“This your little lady, McCray?”
“I’m no one’s little lady,” she responded icily, adding, “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d like to sample the buffet.”
At the buffet table, she picked up a plate. Randolph Nelson was there adding food to the plate in his hand. “You’re looking right lovely, Spring.”
“Thanks,” she replied, viewing the variety of dishes on display.
“I want to get with you about acquiring a few new mustangs.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. Stop by when you can, and we’ll talk.”
“Will do.”
Leary stepped up next to let her know her whiskey had yet to arrive, then moved on. While wondering who else needed a word