At Wolf Ranch by Jennifer Ryan

away.
    “Get off my land,” Travis bellowed.
    “Shut the hell up,” she snapped. She rose on her good foot on tiptoe and leaned in close to Gabe’s ear. He held her hips to steady her. She braced herself against him with her hands on his wide shoulders, without considering how natural it was to hold him and be held by him. Good God, he smelled good, like leather and soap and something earthy and uniquely Gabe. “Those cows have the Wolf Ranch logo.”
    “It’s your brand. One that commands a high price,” he whispered back.
    “It did, but if these animals aren’t treated better, the reputation will be ruined.”
    Gabe held her away and frowned, glaring at her and then resting his gaze on the sad animals.
    “My first and last priority is their care and well-being. I needed to be sure they’re mine, so I can do something about it.”
    “Travis’s father ran this ranch, and ran it well, up until his death. The animals were treated right, and your family made a lot of money off these animals.”
    “Enough said. Thank you.” She tried to pull away, but he held her close. Her gaze locked with his. They stared at each other, that strange awareness they both didn’t acknowledge existed pulling at her and him. “What?”
    “How much pain are you in?”
    “Not enough to stop me from putting ol’ Travis in his place.”
    “You two need to get a room,” Travis called, still pacing erratically. His impatience making him even more cranky. “What the hell do you want with me?”
    “I’m fine,” she said to Gabe, stepping out of his embrace and ignoring the look that said, Yeah, right .
    She pivoted around, set her hands on her hips, and stared Travis down. “I want you to use that shriveled, beer-soaked brain of yours for something other than directing your hand to scratch your hairy ass.”
    Gabe let out a full belly laugh, which made it impossible to hide her own smile.
    “No one disrespects me on my own land.”
    “You’re doing a fine job of that all on your own. This ranch is a disgrace.”
    Travis made a sound like an angry bull. “I’ll wrap my hand around your scrawny neck and choke the life out of you.”
    “You’re not the only one who wants me dead, so get in line. In fact,” she walked right up to him and yanked the shotgun out of his hands, “put that down before you hurt someone. I swear to God, five-year-olds have more common sense than you.”
    “Hey, give that back.”
    She expertly emptied the spent rounds from the chambers, slammed the gun back together, turned, and shoved the gun stock into Travis’s nuts. Travis dropped to his knees, both hands on his crotch.
    “You didn’t even reload after you shot the thing last. Idiot.”
    “Hey, city girl, give me that.” Gabe took the gun from her, but she continued to stare down Travis. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
    “Dad taught us how to handle guns on the ranch. He had a beautiful Winchester.”
    “It’s in the inventory.”
    “A girl out on the town in the big city needs to be able to protect herself. They teach all kinds of martial arts and kickboxing classes at the gym. Guys jump at the chance to roll around on the mats with a girl.” She narrowed her gaze on Travis. “They call me Ballbuster.”
    Gabe’s hand clamped onto her shoulders and he gave her a friendly squeeze. “You’re more than meets the eye, city girl.”
    “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
    “I’m curious about the rest.”
    That was a definite innuendo. In other circumstances, she wouldn’t mind getting an up-close look at the tall, well-built rancher. She appreciated his good-natured attitude and the way he defused a situation. Those broad shoulders and contoured biceps sweetened the deal. Something to think about later. Well, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, but now was not the time, and she refocused.
    Travis kicked a rock across the yard, looking more nervous than pissed.
    He thought her some low lackey like him, working for the