Adrienne deWolfe - [Wild Texas Nights 03] Read Online Free

her Stetson and squared her shoulders, but her hand trembled when it fell, seeking Boo's head as if seeking moral support. "No, but cattlemen have lynched sheepherders on less proof than a glove."
    "What are you after, a range war?"
    "No! Of course not! I just want to be left in peace. I have as much right to raise sheep as you and Hank Rotterdam have to raise steers."
    "No one's contesting your right to run your daddy's business, Bailey."
    "The business is mine , dammit! I run the McShane ranch. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"
    He suspected she was launching a new attack in an old battle. Doing his best to ignore her bait, he returned the conversation to the subject at hand.
    "I'm no law wrangler, but it seems to me if that glove's the only proof you've got, then you don't have much of a case. Most of the waddies who ride from cattle outfit to cattle outfit looking for work wear gloves like that. So what it boils down to is your word against Hank's. And right now, Hank and the twins have alibis."
    She looked stricken. "You think I'm lying?"
    He silently cursed those ocean-sized blue eyes and the way they could pull at his heartstrings. Of course he didn't think she was lying. But she might have leapt to an unfounded conclusion. Allegations and accusations were constantly flying between the sheepherders and the cattlemen. As president of the board, it was his job to represent the cattlemen. He wasn't completely insensitive to the sheepherders' plight, though. And he was far from immune to damsels in distress.
    He chose his next words carefully. Standing within earshot of the cattlemen's favorite watering hole, he was all too keenly aware he might have an audience in the overhead windows, inside the doors, or even among the transient waddies who were strolling toward the saloon. He wasn't ready to throw away his political career by publicly siding with a sheepherder—unless she had irrefutable evidence against one of the cattlemen.
    "What I think," he said firmly, "is that this heat's making folks do regrettable things. But even the drought doesn't make vigilante justice right or lawful. All of us ranchers need patience."
    Bailey's hopes crumbled. She was used to Nick's brand of bigotry, but Zack's hurt more than she'd ever dreamed possible.
    "It's all very well for you to talk about patience," she said bitterly. "No one's preying on your ranch. The governor made fence cutting and sheep killing a felony crime this past January. The crimes still go on, and yet not a single damned cowboy has been arrested in this county. We Woolgrowers are sick and tired of you officers in the Cattlemen's Association giving a wink and a nod to gunnysackers."
    He hardened his jaw. "I don't take accusations like that lightly."
    "Yeah? So prove it."
    His eyes narrowed. Bailey forced herself to brave that blistering stare, even though the heartbeats between them knelled impossibly loud in the lengthening silence. She was beginning to think maybe, just maybe, she had been a bit rash to provoke the Cattlemen's president when someone shouted her name. She muttered an oath, recognizing the voice of her foreman, Iain McTavish, as two shadowy figures hurried along the street toward her.
    "Praise God, lass, ye scared the life out of me," Mac said breathlessly as he and his companion reached her side. "When the barkeep told me ye hadn't set foot in the Curly Horn, I began to think some harm had befallen ye."
    Bailey sighed. She'd wondered how long it would take her foreman to track her down if she bypassed the Woolgrowers' favorite saloon. Sometimes his instincts were better than a bloodhound's.
    Joining Mac was Rob Cole, vice president of the Woolgrowers' Association. They flanked her protectively, their shotguns clenched in their fists, but Zack didn't look the least bit intimidated by the older sheepmen. If anything, he was the foreboding one, standing silhouetted in the Bullwhip's lantern light with his face chiseled by shafts of shadow. When he