Rancher at Risk. Barbara Daille White

himself get so distracted he’d given Elvis a chance to sneak up on him.

      “I reckon that wasn’t the best way to start off,” the man said with a strong Texas twang. The woman’s blue eyes had flamed in irritation. The old man’s, a lighter shade of blue, seemed to bore right into him. And judging by his expression, the guy didn’t much care for what he saw.

      Ryan faced him head-on, widened his stance and crossed his arms.

      “Around these parts,” the man added, “folks respond better to kind words than to being called crazy.” He shifted the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You’d best remember that if you plan on staying here for long.”

      “What makes you think I’m staying?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Maybe I’m passing through.”

      The man shook his head. “We’re too far from the interstate for sensible folks to detour through town. And we don’t get a lot of drop-ins all the way from Montana.”

      Frowning, Ryan shot a look at the dirt-covered pickup truck behind him. Considering they stood broadsides to the vehicle, the old man couldn’t have seen the plate at the rear. “How did you figure out where I’m from?”

      “Didn’t have to figure a thing. People keep me informed. They know I like to stay on top of what goes on in my town.”

      Ryan stiffened. “Your town? Just who are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

      “Don’t mind a bit. Lloyd M. Baylor.” As they shook hands, the man’s eyes squinted with his smile. “Welcome to Flagman’s Folly, Mr. Molloy.”

      Ryan froze with his arm still outstretched. He hadn’t introduced himself. Instantly, he dropped his hand to his side, hoping the old man hadn’t noticed the hesitation. Not much chance of that. Those blue eyes hadn’t squinted from a smile after all but from a calculating stare.

      Scrutinized like horseflesh once again—and passed over.

      Just as when he’d spoken with the woman, his gut told him something wasn’t right. But this time, he wouldn’t jump to a response. Keeping his tone level, he said, “Have we met?”

      “No, but I know all about you.”

      “From Caleb Cantrell?” So much for a fresh start.

      The older man nodded as if he’d listened in on Ryan’s thoughts. “Yep, heard all about you from Caleb. And there’s no need to get up on your high horse about it. He and I go back a long way. He trusts me just like I’ll trust you. If you don’t give me cause to do otherwise.”

      “Is that so?”

      “Yes. And I’ll tell you something else. Flagman’s Folly is the nicest place anyone would ever want to visit, including you. Just make sure you behave accordingly and keep out of my place of business.”

      The local saloon, Ryan surmised, judging by the man’s string tie and red suspenders. He gritted his teeth and tried for a grin. And promised himself he wouldn’t raise a glass in that barroom. “You’re not living up to Caleb’s talk about the town’s friendly reputation, Mr. Baylor. If that’s how you welcome newcomers, I’m surprised you have any customers at all.”

      “Customers?” The old man gave a gravelly laugh. “Never heard folks call it that, but I reckon the word works just as well as any other.”

      He frowned. “What kind of place are you running?”

      The man jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the building behind him. “You’re looking at it, son. This is Town Hall, and I run the courtroom.” After eyeing Ryan for a long moment, he added, “You’re more than welcome to stop by my office anytime. As long as you show up with a clean conscience and without a lawyer in tow.” He nodded once to underscore his words before heading back along the trough-lined path.

      Ryan clamped his jaw shut and shook his head over that so-called invitation. What had Caleb told the judge about him, anyhow?

      Swearing under his breath, he climbed into the truck and slammed the door shut behind him.

      He’d picked a hell of a way to make a first impression on folks in Flagman’s Folly.

      Chapter Two

      A flash in the mirror above the dresser made Lianne Ward automatically turn toward the doorway of her temporary bedroom. Her sister lumbered into the room, both hands supporting her lower back.

      “Here, sit down.” Lianne swept aside the freshly washed clothes she had piled onto the bed. In the two days since her arrival, she hadn’t had a single private moment with Kayla. If her good luck held until Becky came running into the room, maybe she could continue to avoid the conversation she didn’t want to have. If not, she might as well wave a white flag and surrender.

      Never argue with a pregnant woman, someone had once said. Great advice, especially with this pregnant woman, who never liked to take no for an answer.

      Besides, Kayla could sign.

      Sure enough, the minute their gazes met, she started in, using both hands and voice. “You’ve been avoiding one-on-one time with me since you got here. What’s up?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Come on, big sis. You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

      “You’re the big one right now.” What a relief to be able to tease Kayla, to say what she wanted without having to speak slowly, without focusing on each word and every syllable. To talk without thinking about her voice at all. So different from this morning and her run-in with that impossible man who accused her of making assumptions about him. He’d done the same with her....

      But didn’t everyone, if not sooner than later?

      She loosened her grip on the T-shirt she had intended to fold. If she didn’t watch out, her own sister would start jumping to conclusions. She forced a smile. “It’s only April. Are you sure that baby’s going to wait another three months?”

      Kayla was so lucky to have Sam and Becky and another child on the way. But even the mention of the baby didn’t seem to distract her sister now.

      Kayla rested her hand on Lianne’s arm, the way she’d always done to get her full attention. “The baby will come when he’s ready. What I don’t understand is why you’re so ready to leave.”

      “Miss me already? Don’t worry, you’ll have enough company when Sam’s mom gets here.”

      “That’s months away!”

      “But if Sharleen hears I’m staying, she might start thinking she’s not needed.”

      Kayla circled her right forefinger at her temple, making a sign that needed no words. Obviously, she hadn’t fallen for Lianne’s crazy excuses.

      “You know I have to go,” she said gently. “I made a commitment.” And unlike some people, she stuck by her promises. “Besides, I’ll only be a few miles down the road, close enough to come running as soon as Sam texts to let me know you’re in labor. And I’ll be by plenty of times before then. As you said, we’ve got months before the baby comes.”

      Kayla shook her head. “What about Becky?”

      “She’ll see plenty of me, too.” She took great care in folding another shirt. This visit had been the best break from her troubles she could ever have asked for. The only downside to the past couple of days—other than this morning—had been the many times Kayla had skewered her with a sharp-eyed gaze.

      Even now, she wasn’t letting lack of eye contact deter her. She put her hand on Lianne’s arm again and pointed to the bed.

      “You don’t give up, do you?” Sighing, she sank to the edge of the mattress.

      “Not when there’s something wrong. You know how happy I am to have you