The Lone Rancher Read Online Free Page A

will make a feast of them.” Sure, he had crossbred livestock, hoping for the best characteristics possible, but he had seen too many English breeds fail miserably in this climate. He hoped the McKnights had plenty of money to cover their losses.
    Anxious to meet his short-term neighbors and present his offer, Quin bounded up the steps two at a time, then rapped loudly on the door. After knocking a second time, the door finally opened. He sized up the lanky, hazel-eyed man in a stylish suit. He looked to be in his late forties, judging by the strands of gray mingling with brown hair. The well-dressed gent looked down his hawkish nose, as if Quin didn’t measure up. To what Eastern standard Quin didn’t know—or care.
    â€œA. K. McKnight?” Quin presumed as he grabbed the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake.
    The man wriggled his hand loose and stepped aside. Then he said, “And you are…?”
    â€œQuin Cahill, your neighbor to the north and to the east,” he replied as he entered the hallway that was cluttered with the fanciest furniture he’d ever laid eyes on. Even his mother’s fine taste in furnishings didn’t compare to this stuff, he mused.
    â€œCome sit down, Mr. Cahill…if you can find an empty space in the parlor. I’ll return in a moment.”
    Quin nudged a stack of boxes out of his way to make room for himself on the sofa. He waited an impatient moment for McKnight to drag his uppity posterior backto the room that was heaped with displaced furniture. Quin had a ranch to run and he didn’t intend to waste unnecessary time before presenting his offer and haggling over a fair price.
    â€œI don’t see anyone, Butler,” came a woman’s voice from the doorway of the parlor.
    Butler? Quin frowned, puzzled. He presumed the man he’d met was A. K. McKnight, not the butler. So where was this McKnight character? Was he still back East?
    Quin surged to his feet to locate the source of the feminine voice. He blinked in surprise when he spotted a riot of tangled chestnut curls surrounding a bewitching face smudged with dirt. The woman stood five foot five and looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her faded gown was a mass of wrinkles and grime. Cobwebs clung to the mane of shiny hair and stuck to her well-endowed bosom. He couldn’t help but notice the fetching creature had the kind of shapely body that could stop traffic on the bustling streets of Cahill Crossing. Her tempting assets certainly had his undivided attention.
    So this was the housekeeper—and no telling what other services she performed for the master of the house. Quin wondered if she had been sent to offer him a spot of tea before she scuttled back to her daytime duties.
    â€œNothing to drink for me, honey,” he said as he removed his hat and tossed out his best smile. “I have a business proposition for McKnight, then I’ll be on my way.”
    She tilted her head to study him from a pensive angle. “What sort of proposition?” the shapely young housekeeper inquired.
    None of your business, sugar, he thought, but he said, “I prefer to discuss the details with Mr. McKnight.” He glanced over her mussed head, wondering if the gent had arrived in Texas yet.
    â€œI am A. K. McKnight.”
    Slack-jawed, he turned his attention back to the woman. “You?” he croaked when he finally found his tongue.
    Her chin tilted to a challenging angle that reminded him of his sister—wherever the hell she was these days.
    â€œI am Adrianna Kathleen McKnight,” she introduced herself with icy formality.
    â€œBut who was the man I met?” he asked, baffled.
    â€œButler.”
    â€œYou call him butler? ” This tenderfoot was a snob, he decided.
    â€œHis name is Hiram Butler. It amuses him to let people think he is a butler, not an amazingly efficient accountant.”
    Quin smirked. “I can see he has a killer sense of