The Rancher's Bride. Stella Bagwell

of unshaven beard darkened his chin and jaws, while sweat trickled from beneath his hatband and tracked down his temples.

      “Well, Harlan,” she finally managed to say, “what I’m here about is the fence running between our properties. It’s been cut, and cattle have been herded from your pasture onto my pasture. Do you know anything about this?”

      He remained silent for a long time and Rose eventually felt herself begin to wilt beneath his gaze. She could feel his eyes on her face, her lips, her bosom. Rose had never considered herself attractive to men and to have one look at her as blatantly as this was something she wasn’t quite ready to deal with.

      “I suppose I should have said something to you or your family before I cut the fence. But I didn’t have any idea you’d be riding horseback that far away from your ranch.”

      Rose stared at him with wide eyes. “I have to ride fence just like you do, Mr. Hamilton. And for you to take it for granted that a certain part of our boundary fence would be ignored is, well—it’s insulting.”

      “I told you to call me Harlan,” he said with a sudden flare of his nostrils. “And as for the fence, I might remind you that your father and I were equal partners building it.”

      Rose hadn’t any idea the man had contributed toward the fence. She’d thought the Bar M had shouldered all the labor and expense. Embarrassed by her ignorance, Rose glanced away from him. “I wasn’t aware of that. But I was concerned when I found the cut wires. There wasn’t any way of my knowing you’d done it.”

      He grimaced. “Believe me, Miss Murdock, I didn’t get any enjoyment in tearing down the fence. But I hardly had any choice in the matter. I’m in bad need of water over here, and before your father died, he gave me permission to use the river on your land.”

      Surprised by his admission, she said, “Surely the river runs through your property, too.”

      “Only parts of it. The pasture where I cut the wire has nothing but a pond and it dried up two weeks ago.”

      “I know it’s been dry but—”

      “Dry! It’s been hell for the past two months! There’s plenty of people around here who are hurting for water. We just aren’t as blessed as you Murdocks.”

      Blessed! He didn’t know the half of it, Rose thought a little angrily. Their father had died and left them a pile of debts, then they’d discovered that the twin babies abandoned on their front porch were really their half brother and sister. Their father apparently had had an affair with a woman in Las Cruces while their invalid mother had lain dying. And to make matters worse, he’d been sending his mistress an exorbitant amount of money every month. Tomas Murdock’s lack of morals and common sense had left Rose, her sisters and aunt in dire straits. No, this man didn’t know the half of it!

      “We aren’t exactly overflowing with water ourselves, Mr.—Harlan. The river is very low.”

      “At least there’s water in it.”

      “Yes. It’s still running,” she had to agree.

      “Then I think the least you and your sisters can do is share.”

      Her brows shot upward. “Share?”

      He frowned. “I don’t know why you find that so incredible. I mean, it’s been a year and I haven’t seen a cent from you people. I realize Tomas passed on, but that doesn’t mean his debts can be ignored.”

      “Debts?”

      In the back of her mind, Rose knew she was beginning to sound like a parrot, but she couldn’t help it. This man was tossing remarks at her that she couldn’t begin to understand.

      Harlan recognized genuine confusion when he saw it. This woman with her smooth, creamy skin and shiny chestnut hair knew nothing of what he was talking about.

      “I’m…” he paused as he glanced over his shoulder at the yearling trotting around the dusty corral. “If you’ll pardon me a minute, I’ll let the yearling loose and we’ll go up to the house and talk.”

      Rose had already been in this man’s company far longer than she’d wanted or expected to be.

      “Can’t you say whatever it is you have to say now? I came over here on horseback, and it’s going to take me awhile to get back home as it is.”

      Surprise lifted his dark brows. “You rode over here?”

      “Why, yes,” she said. “Is something wrong? Have your horses been quarantined for sleeping sickness or something?”

      He shook his head. “No. There’s no problem like that,” he assured her but didn’t go on to explain that she looked far too fragile and feminine to have ridden several miles in this searing heat. “And you don’t have to worry about riding back home,” he told her. “I can haul you and your horse to the Bar M.”

      She unconsciously straightened her shoulders. “That won’t be necessary.”

      “Well, we’ll see,” he said, then went to tend to the yearling.

      Once he was finished, the two of them walked the short distance to the house. At the back, they crossed a groundlevel porch, then entered a door which took them directly into a small kitchen.

      Dirty dishes were piled in the sink and the remnants of where a meal had been cooked still littered the stove, but the oval Formica table standing in the middle of the room had been cleared and wiped.

      Harlan motioned for Rose to take a seat. “We have iced tea or soft drinks if you’d like,” he offered.

      As Rose pulled out a chair, she immediately started to decline the drink, then suddenly thought better of it. She’d been out in the heat for several hours and had only stopped to drink from her thermos a couple of times. Keeling over with heatstroke was the last thing she wanted to do in front of this man.

      “Iced tea would be nice,” she told him.

      He fixed two glasses of the drink, gave one to Rose, then placed the other one at the end of the table to her left.

      “I’ll be right back,” he said.

      Feeling more than awkward, she watched him leave the room. The television was still playing somewhere in another part of the house. Rose supposed Harlan’s daughter was watching it and as her gaze wandered around the untidy kitchen, she couldn’t help but think the girl was like the yearling he’d been working with earlier. She probably balked at doing anything except what she wanted.

      Rose had taken several sips of the cold, sweetened tea when Harlan returned with a folded white paper in his hand.

      After taking a seat, he handed her the document. “Before we talk anymore about the water, I think you need to see this.”

      Rose’s heart was suddenly pattering out of control, but whether it was reacting to Harlan’s closeness or the dread of what she was about to read, she wasn’t sure.

      Praying her hands would remain steady, she unfolded the legal-size document and quickly scanned the typewritten paragraphs. By the time she reached the end of the page every last drop of blood had drained from her face. A sick feeling roiled in her stomach.

      “This is—unbelievable!” she said in a voice hardly above a whisper.

      “Believe me, Miss Murdock, it’s legal and binding.”

      Rose lifted her eyes to his. “I’m not doubting its authenticity,” she quickly assured him. “I’m talking about my father—”

      Biting down on her lip, she looked away from him. How could Tomas have done such a thing to his family, she wondered sickly. First that woman—his mistress, whom they still hadn’t been able to track down! For all they knew she might turn up any day and demand more money, or even worse, her babies back. Now this!

      Forcing her gaze back to him, she said, “I must tell you Mr.—Harlan, my