The Rancher. Diana Palmer

that might be.”

      He chuckled. “I’m going to be an uncle. Wow. That’s super. Have you told Mom and Dad?”

      “Not yet. I’ll call Mom tonight, though.”

      “She’ll be so excited. Her first grandchild.”

      Morie glanced at him. “You ever going to get married?” she asked.

      “Sure, if Odalie ever says yes.” He sighed. “She was warming up to me there just for a while. Then that Italian fellow came along and offered her voice training. He’s something of a legend among opera stars. And that’s what she wants, to sing at the Met.” He grimaced. “Just my luck, to fall in love with a woman who only wants a career.”

      “I believe her mother was the same way, wasn’t she?” Morie asked gently. “And then she and Cole Everett got really close. She gave up being a professional singer to come home and have kids. Although she still composes. That Wyoming group, Desperado, had a major hit from a song she wrote for them some years ago.”

      “I think she still composes. But she likes living on a ranch. Odalie hates it. She says she’s never going to marry a man who smells like cow droppings.” He looked at one of his big boots, where his ankle was resting on his other knee in the rocking chair. “I’m a rancher, damn it,” he muttered. “I can’t learn another trade. Dad’s counting on me to take over when he can’t do the work anymore.”

      “Yes, I know,” she said sadly. “What else could you do?”

      “Teach, I guess,” he replied. “I have a degree in animal husbandry.” He made a face. “I’d rather be shot. I’d rather let that red-feathered assassin loose on my nose. I hate the whole idea of routine.”

      “Me, too,” Morie confessed. “I love ranching. I guess the drought is giving Dad problems, too, huh?”

      “It’s been pretty bad,” Cort agreed. “People in Oklahoma and the other plains states are having it worse, though. No rain. It’s like the Dust Bowl in the thirties, people are saying. So many disaster declarations.”

      “How are you getting around it?”

      “Wells, mostly,” he said. “We’ve drilled new ones and filled the tanks to the top. Irrigating our grain crops. Of course, we’ll still have to buy some feed through the winter. But we’re in better shape than a lot of other cattle producers. Damn, I hate how it’s going to impact small ranchers and farmers. Those huge combines will be standing in the shadows, just waiting to pounce when the foreclosures come.”

      “Family ranches are going to be obsolete one day, like family farms,” Morie said sadly. “Except, maybe, for the big ones, like ours.”

      “True words. People don’t realize how critical this really is.”

      She reached over and squeezed his hand. “That’s why we have the National Cattleman’s Association and the state organizations,” she reminded him. “Now stop worrying. We’re going fishing tomorrow!”

      “Really?” he asked, delighted. “Trout?”

      “Yes. The water’s just cold enough, still. When it heats up too much, you can’t eat them.” She sighed. “This may be the last chance we’ll get for a while, if this heat doesn’t relent.”

      “Tell me about it. We hardly had winter at all in Texas. Spring was like summer, and it’s gone downhill since. I’d love to stand in a trout stream, even if I don’t catch a thing.”

      “Me, too.”

      “Does Bodie fish?”

      “You know, I’ve never asked. We’ll do that tomorrow. For now,” she said, rising, “I’m for bed.” She paused and hugged him. “It’s nice to have you here for a while.”

      “For me, too, little sis.” He hugged her back, and kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”

      Chapter Two

      Maddie hadn’t thought about Cort for one whole hour. She laughed at herself while she fed her hens. Pumpkin was in the henhouse, locked in for the time being, so that she could feed the chickens without having to defend herself.

      The laughter died away as she recalled the things Cort had said to her. She was ugly and flat-chested and he could never be attracted to her. She looked down at her slender body and frowned. She couldn’t suddenly become beautiful. She didn’t have the money to buy fancy clothes that flattered her, like Odalie did. In fact, her wardrobe was two years old.

      When her father had been dying of cancer, every penny they had was tied up trying to keep up with doctor bills that the insurance didn’t cover. Her father did carry life insurance, which was a lucky break because at his death, it was enough to pay back everybody.

      But things were still hard. This year, they’d struggled to pay just the utility bills. It was going to come down to a hard choice, sell off cattle or sell off land. There was a developer who’d already been to see Maddie about selling the ranch. He wanted to build a huge hotel and amusement park complex. He was offering her over a million dollars, and he was persistent.

      “You just run a few head of cattle here, don’t you?” the tall man in the expensive suit said, but his smile didn’t really reach his eyes. He was an opportunist, looking for a great deal. He thought Maddie would be a pushover once he pulled out a figure that would tempt a saint.

      But Maddie’s whole heritage was in that land. Her great-grandfather had started the ranch and suffered all sorts of deprivations to get it going. Her grandfather had taken over where he left off, improving both the cattle herd and the land. Her father had toiled for years to find just the right mix of grasses to pursue a purebred cattle breeding herd that was now the envy of several neighbors. All that would be gone. The cattle sold off, the productive grasslands torn up and paved for the complex, which would attract people passing by on the long, monotonous interstate highway that ran close to the border of the ranch.

      “I’ll have to think about it,” she told him, nodding. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, either.

      He pursed his lips. “You know, we’re looking at other land in the area, too. You might get left out in the cold if we find someone who’s more enthusiastic about the price we’re offering.”

      Maddie didn’t like threats. Even nice ones, that came with soft words and smiles.

      “Whatever,” she said. She smiled again. “I did say I’d have to think about it.”

      His smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. “You have a prime location here, only one close neighbor and a nearby interstate. I really want this place. I want it a lot.”

      “Listen, I hate being pressured...!”

      He held up both hands. “Okay! But you think about it. You think hard.” His expression became dangerous-looking. “We know how to deal with reluctant buyers. That’s not a threat, it’s just a statement. Here’s my card.”

      She took it gingerly, as if she thought it had germs.

      He made a huffing sound and climbed back into his fantastically expensive foreign car. He roared out of the driveway, scattering chickens.

      She glared after it. No more eggs for two more days, she thought irritably. She’d rather starve than sell the ranch. But money was getting very tight. The drought was going to be a major hit to their poor finances, she thought dismally.

      “Miss Maddie, you got that rooster locked up?” Ben called at the fence, interrupting her depressing reverie.

      She turned. “Yes, Ben, he’s restrained.” She laughed.

      “Thanks.” He grimaced. “Going to feed the livestock and I’d just as soon not be mauled in the process.”

      “I know.” She glanced at the wire door behind which Pumpkin was calling