colonel’s face. “What makes you say that?” the colonel questioned. “At the time, we were having trouble with the Comanche.”
“Comanche’s don’t ride ponies that wear shoes, and Dad had always gotten along with the Kickapoo. He’d just given Chief Black Bear cattle to feed his tribe for the winter.”
The colonel stopped and considered Patrick’s words. “Good point.” He leaned back in his chair. “But who would have had a reason to kill them?”
“Ever heard of a man named Carson Jarvis?”
“Isn’t he that fellow who owns the Cactus Spread ranch just west of your land?”
“That’s the one. Two years ago, when I was a ranger I arrested his son for cattle rustling. I can’t help but wonder if they were killed out of revenge.”
“You know, I received a letter from your mother about a month before she died.” The colonel rose from his chair. “Let me see if I still have it.”
Excited, the colonel strode over to a safe in the corner of his office. Twirling the dial, he opened the strongbox and pulled out an envelope. He walked over to Patrick and handed him the letter.
“It’s nothing but a letter, but in it your mother told me someone was trying to buy your ranch. Your father had refused their offer and she was worried this person wouldn’t take no for an answer.” The colonel sighed. “This was the last correspondence I had with your family.”
Patrick looked at the envelope with his mother’s handwriting scrawled across the front and felt his chest tighten with pain. “Do you mind if I keep this?”
“No, son. Your mother was about the nicest lady I’ve ever known.”
“I miss her.” The words slipped out before Patrick had a chance to stop them. Damn, he would find her killer and avenge her. The familiar feelings of grief hit him full force.
----
“ N ice night ,” Patrick said as he walked into the light of the fire.
Sabrina sent him a look that, if her eyes had been a shotgun, would have filled him full of lead. Turning her attention back to the campfire, she ignored him.
“About last night. You can’t be . . . ah—” He paused and rubbed his hand across his face.
“If this is about my reading that story . . . .”
“No!” he interrupted. “From now on, when you take your bath, take it in the dark. I don’t need my men to see your charms displayed against the canvas of the wagon.”
Puzzled, Sabrina asked, “What are you talking about?”
“The lantern! Every move you make is silhouetted from the light of the lantern on canvas.”
Sabrina’s mouth dropped open in surprise and a small gasp escaped her throat.
“You’re the only woman in camp. If my men see you as I did last night, after weeks of being without a woman, one of them will lose his head. Then we’ll have trouble.”
It was the last straw. The air fairly exploded out of Sabrina’s body as her restraint fell away. “Do you think I was deliberately bathing in front of the light?”
The fire once again became the center of Sabrina’s focus as anger rolled from her body in unseen waves. She waited for Patrick’s retort, but strangely, he kept quiet.
When she spoke, her voice was distinctly clear, her diction precise and cold. “I do not entertain your men, Mr. Shand. I have tried very hard to fit in without being obtrusive. I only want to get my cattle to market without any extra attention or special considerations given to me because I’m a woman.”
Patrick grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. They stood within inches. His full lips were close, much too close. “Because you are a woman, you are given every consideration, whether you realize it or not. Don’t tempt my men.”
Before she could respond, his lips came down on hers. It was a savage kiss, an angry kiss mixed with passion and punishment. Just as quickly as it began, he broke it off and pushed her away. Sabrina took the back of her hand and swiped it across her mouth, wiping his kiss away.
“How long did you
“Comanche’s don’t ride ponies that wear shoes, and Dad had always gotten along with the Kickapoo. He’d just given Chief Black Bear cattle to feed his tribe for the winter.”
The colonel stopped and considered Patrick’s words. “Good point.” He leaned back in his chair. “But who would have had a reason to kill them?”
“Ever heard of a man named Carson Jarvis?”
“Isn’t he that fellow who owns the Cactus Spread ranch just west of your land?”
“That’s the one. Two years ago, when I was a ranger I arrested his son for cattle rustling. I can’t help but wonder if they were killed out of revenge.”
“You know, I received a letter from your mother about a month before she died.” The colonel rose from his chair. “Let me see if I still have it.”
Excited, the colonel strode over to a safe in the corner of his office. Twirling the dial, he opened the strongbox and pulled out an envelope. He walked over to Patrick and handed him the letter.
“It’s nothing but a letter, but in it your mother told me someone was trying to buy your ranch. Your father had refused their offer and she was worried this person wouldn’t take no for an answer.” The colonel sighed. “This was the last correspondence I had with your family.”
Patrick looked at the envelope with his mother’s handwriting scrawled across the front and felt his chest tighten with pain. “Do you mind if I keep this?”
“No, son. Your mother was about the nicest lady I’ve ever known.”
“I miss her.” The words slipped out before Patrick had a chance to stop them. Damn, he would find her killer and avenge her. The familiar feelings of grief hit him full force.
----
“ N ice night ,” Patrick said as he walked into the light of the fire.
Sabrina sent him a look that, if her eyes had been a shotgun, would have filled him full of lead. Turning her attention back to the campfire, she ignored him.
“About last night. You can’t be . . . ah—” He paused and rubbed his hand across his face.
“If this is about my reading that story . . . .”
“No!” he interrupted. “From now on, when you take your bath, take it in the dark. I don’t need my men to see your charms displayed against the canvas of the wagon.”
Puzzled, Sabrina asked, “What are you talking about?”
“The lantern! Every move you make is silhouetted from the light of the lantern on canvas.”
Sabrina’s mouth dropped open in surprise and a small gasp escaped her throat.
“You’re the only woman in camp. If my men see you as I did last night, after weeks of being without a woman, one of them will lose his head. Then we’ll have trouble.”
It was the last straw. The air fairly exploded out of Sabrina’s body as her restraint fell away. “Do you think I was deliberately bathing in front of the light?”
The fire once again became the center of Sabrina’s focus as anger rolled from her body in unseen waves. She waited for Patrick’s retort, but strangely, he kept quiet.
When she spoke, her voice was distinctly clear, her diction precise and cold. “I do not entertain your men, Mr. Shand. I have tried very hard to fit in without being obtrusive. I only want to get my cattle to market without any extra attention or special considerations given to me because I’m a woman.”
Patrick grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. They stood within inches. His full lips were close, much too close. “Because you are a woman, you are given every consideration, whether you realize it or not. Don’t tempt my men.”
Before she could respond, his lips came down on hers. It was a savage kiss, an angry kiss mixed with passion and punishment. Just as quickly as it began, he broke it off and pushed her away. Sabrina took the back of her hand and swiped it across her mouth, wiping his kiss away.
“How long did you
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