The Lone Rancher by Carol Finch Page B

bunkhouse blamed her for the woes on 4C. Conversely, her employees thought Quin and his men were responsible for stealing her Herefords the previous week.
    â€œYou sure we should be helping Cahill?” Chester Purvis asked as he trotted his horse beside her. “He probably thinks you started this fire to get even for swiping your heifers.”
    She frowned in annoyance when several other cowboys nodded in agreement with Ches. “We are not starting some silly range war over incidents likely instigated by outlaws and rustlers,” she declared sharply. “Is that clear?”
    â€œOkay, but if you ask me, it’s the Cahill Curse at work again.”
    Adrianna jerked up her head and glared at the scruffy, slow-talking cowboy—Pokey O’Reilly was his name—who had spouted the comment. “I am not the superstitious sort and I don’t expect any of my employees to be, either. If you want to believe in voodoo nonsense, then collect your wages and leave.”
    That shut them up in a hurry, thank goodness. Adrianna doubted she had changed anyone’s opinion but she didn’t have to listen to such foolishness. She suspected someone was preying on the 4C because it was so large and it was impossible to oversee so many thousands of acres. Plus, someone wanted to lay the blame on her, the newcomer. Why her reputation and respectability was being sabotaged, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure how to find out, either.
    She discarded the troubling thought and hightailed it across the pasture to reach the site of the grass fire. Thankfully, there wasn’t enough wind to engulf all the trees. In addition, the area was nearby Triple Creek so they could soak their gunnysacks with water, then pound out the flames.
    Adrianna was hard at work smothering the fire when she glanced sideways to see Quin racing beside a hundred head of longhorn calves that he’d herded from his northern pastures. His narrowed gaze landed on her and she thrust out her chin, daring him to point an accusing finger.
    She noticed that every cowboy on hand glanced between her and Quin, waiting to see if a shouting match broke out. She decided to turn rumor of their supposed feud on its ear. When Quin dismounted, she walked up to him, pushed up on tiptoe and placed a kiss right smack-dab on his lips.
    There, thought she. That should quell any rumors ofa hostile feud between them. “We came as soon as we saw the fire, Quin,” she said loudly.
    She met those silver-gray eyes that were fringed with thick black lashes and she saw a faint smile crease his lips. Despite the heavy five-o’clock shadow that rimmed his jaw, he looked irresistibly attractive. Of course, she’d realized how vulnerable she’d become to the man several days ago—which is why they had ended up tumbling around in the grass and she’d been unable to keep her hands off him.
    â€œThanks, Boston. We appreciate your help.”
    He dropped a quick kiss to her lips, grabbed the gunny sack from her hand, then jogged off to beat down the flames. She fell into step behind him to toss aside the potential kindling of fallen branches. They worked tirelessly side by side for an hour to ensure the embers had cooled so flames wouldn’t erupt later to destroy the shadowy grove the cattle favored to beat the blistering summer heat.
    â€œI’m grateful for the extra help!” Quin called to Adrianna’s cowboys. “If you have an emergency, my men and I will gladly return the favor.” He glanced around the area. “I just hope this grass fire isn’t a diversion for other destructive activities, like the butchered calf we found on my north pasture.”
    Adrianna blinked in surprise while the cowboys mumbled in speculation about who’d done the deed.
    â€œI also noticed the adjoining fence had been cut a mile north of here. No doubt, a gang of rustlers is preying on our area, so everyone on both sides of