Last Chance Cowboys: The Drifter by Anna Schmidt Page A

challenged.
    â€œThat would be one course of action. Another would be to go back to the ranch and town and see what you could learn. Now that your foreman’s here—and appears to be planning to stay awhile—I’m not sure why you think you need to be here.”
    She was not used to the hired men speaking to her with such directness, and she certainly was not used to them studying her so openly. Chet had left his hat on the ground and his eyes—those sparkling eyes—were probing hers, seeking answers. “Trey…”
    â€œTrey is doing far better than you or any of us hands would have thought. The boy’s a natural. Question is why are you here, Maria?”
    She did not miss the fact that he had dropped the “Miss” from her name. And she could not ignore the fact that the first answer that sprang to mind—one she forced herself to swallow without speaking—was because you are .
    â€œI should get back,” she said, aware that the sun had slipped below the horizon and the shadows were closing in on them like a cloak. “Thank you again for helping Trey adjust, for everything you’ve been doing. It’s…been a big help.”
    â€œMaria?”
    There it was again—that familiarity she should never permit. She paused but did not turn to face him.
    â€œTalk to Turnbull about the creek. Even with the drought, this stream is not running the way similar streams appear to be running on the other side of Tipton’s fence.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll mention it.” She took a few more steps, and then she added, “And if you are certain that Trey is adjusting and will be all right, perhaps I should get back to help Amanda and Juanita.”
    â€œAnd find out what happened to Joker?”
    â€œYes, that too. Good night, Chet.”
    â€œNight, Miss Maria.”
    So as she had expected, the times he had called her by her given name were no more than slips of the tongue. Why was it that instead of the relief she should have felt at learning he was not going to take advantage, all she felt was disappointment?
    Roger was sitting outside her tent, talking to Trey when she returned to the campsite. He continued talking but watched her. Trey had always gotten along well with Roger, and Maria could not help wondering if spending time with Chet might change that.
    â€œYou were gone for some time,” Roger said as soon as Maria reached the tent.
    Before Maria could answer, Trey interrupted. “I was telling Roger how Hunt and me had been working the fence and how many places we found posts pulled out and the wire gone all slack,” Trey reported. “We fixed them all but Hunt says—”
    â€œHunter seems to have a lot of opinions,” Roger interrupted, his eyes still on Maria.
    â€œHe’s always watching for stuff,” Trey went on as if Roger had not cut him off. “Just yesterday my horse was headed straight toward a rattler. I didn’t see it but Hunt did, and he cracked that whip of his and clean cut that snake near in half. Hunt told me that…”
    Maria watched Roger’s face work as he tried hard to contain his irritation at Trey’s chatter. “Trey, I need to speak with Roger for a minute. Could you go help Eduardo finish cleaning up?”
    â€œSure thing.” He strode confidently past the men gathered around the campfire, calling out to them and getting greeted in return.
    â€œYour brother appears to have taken to life on the trail,” Roger said.
    â€œYes, the men have taken him into their circle as if he were one of their own. I’m so pleased with the progress he’s made that I’ve decided to return to the ranch tomorrow.”
    â€œNot alone.” It was a commandment.
    â€œAnd why not alone? I’ll be on Porterfield land the entire way. Besides, it’s not as if we can spare anyone to travel with me there and then back again. We’ve already