# The Rancher's Mistress

Kay Thorpe

Scandals! Have you heard the latest? Don't tell anyone, but… . As far as Cal Forrester is concerned, Alexandra Sherwood is one step away from being a loose woman. It doesn't seem to stop him wanting her, though! Because she's a model, he seems to think that she's fair game for anyone wanting a temporary mistress. Well, Alexandra has got news for him - he's tempting, but not that tempting!Alex hasn't come to Wyoming to bed a cowboy… but to escape a scandal! But how long will it take Cal Forrester to discover the truth? That far from being merely a woman of questionable means, Alexandra Sherwood is downright notorious!

Cover About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN Copyright

KAY THORPE was born in Sheffield, England, in 1935. She tried out a variety of jobs after leaving school. Writing began as a hobby, becoming a way of life only after she had her first completed novel accepted for publication in 1968. Since then she’s written over fifty novels, and lives now with her husband, son, German shepherd dog and lucky black cat on the outskirts of Chesterfield in Derbyshire. Her interests include reading, hiking and travel.


Have you heard the latest?

Get ready for the next outrageous Scandal

RED-HOT AND RECKLESS

by

Miranda Lee (#1930)

All will be revealed in January 1998!

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The Rancher’s Mistress

Kay Thorpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

TAKING in the panoramic view of rolling grasslands and timbered mountain slopes, Alex felt well and truly over the rainbow. Wyoming! The name itself conjured up images of hard-thewed cowboys astride spirited steeds, of thundering herds of cattle and whistling lariats. That the old Western films she had loved as a teenager would bear little resemblance to today’s reality she didn’t need telling, but it did no harm to dream.

‘How long will it take us to reach the Lazy Y?’ she asked the man at the wheel of the station wagon, savouring the name.

‘An hour or so,’ he said. ‘We’ll be in good time for supper. Hope you’re not on a diet. The food is really something. Needs to be too, considering what it costs to spend a week on the ranch. Taking in dudes is a pretty lucrative business.’

‘It’s a working ranch too, though, isn’t it? At least, that’s the impression you gave in your letter.’

‘It’s that all right. Cal would sooner give up breathing than cattle-breeding.’

Catching the acerbic note, Alex shot her brother a glance. Handsome as he’d been at eighteen, when she’d last seen him in the flesh, he was even more so at twenty-six: blond hair bleached by the sun, features hardened into manhood. They had often been taken for twins when they were children, despite the two years between them. The resemblance was still there, of course, though obviously nowhere near as pronounced. Whether the empathy they had shared could be re-established after eight years apart was something else.

‘Do you get on all right with him?’ she queried.

The shrug was noncommittal. ‘Well enough.’

Not exactly ‘buddy-buddy’, Alex gathered—which wasn’t all that surprising, she supposed, considering the circumstances.

‘How about the guests?’ she said. ‘Do they join in with the general ranch work too?’

‘The ones who want to. Amazing how many seem to look on working their butts off fencing and riding herd as part and parcel of what they’re paying for!’

‘Perhaps they’re living out a private fantasy,’ Alex suggested lightly. ‘I always wanted to be a cowgirl myself.’

Greg’s quick grin momentarily restored the boyish look she remembered. ‘I’d say modelling was the better choice.’

She gave a wry smile. ‘Not so much a choice as an enticement. If I hadn’t been spotted by that photographer, I’d never have thought of it as a career. The problem now is having no particular qualifications to fall back on. Something you tend not to take too much into account at seventeen.’

‘You’re hardly over the hill yet,’ Greg observed, slanting a swift, appraising glance at the tumble of honey-blonde hair and finely sculpted profile.

‘Where photographic work is concerned, I’m fast getting that way.’ Alex took care to keep her tone matter-of-fact. ‘I’ve had a good run, but it’s time I started thinking about doing something else with my life.’

‘You know best, I suppose.’ He paused briefly. ‘Anything in particular in mind?’

‘I’ve done promotional work from time to time. A company I worked for last year offered me a permanent job selling costume jewellery in stores.’

Greg pulled a face. ‘Sounds a bit dull after the kind of life you must have led to date.’

‘I haven’t done that much candle-burning,’ Alex replied drily. ‘Riotous late nights aren’t to be recommended for anyone due to face a camera next day.’

‘You could always find yourself a rich husband. With your looks it should be a doddle!’

‘If I marry anyone at all,’ she declared on an emphatic note, ‘it certainly won’t be for money!’

‘You always were a romantic,’ he scoffed.

She might have been once, Alex reflected. If the last few years hadn’t rid her of her illusions, the last few weeks certainly had!

‘Was it love at first sight for you and Margot?’ she asked, putting the memories resolutely aside. ‘You said you met in Las Vegas.’

‘That’s right. Some friends she was visiting brought her to the nightclub where I was working behind the bar. We were married a week later.’

‘And you call me the romantic!’

The vivid blue eyes, so like her own, fixed on the near-empty road ahead, he said smoothly, ‘She wanted everything done and dusted before Cal could put his spoke in.’

‘He’s her brother, not her guardian. Surely—’

‘You wouldn’t know it at times. He treats her more like sixteen than twenty!’

Perhaps with some reason, Alex thought, trying to be fair-minded about it. Leaping into marriage with a virtual stranger was hardly sensible behaviour at any age. Greg hadn’t answered the first half of the question, which might suggest that love hadn’t been his prime motive. After drifting about the world for so long, a setup like the Lazy Y had to have some pulling power.

Scant evidence on which to make that kind of deduction, she chided herself. The man seated beside her was different in many ways from the boy she had grown up with, but that didn’t mean he’d become an out-and-out opportunist. She, of all people, should know better than to take anyone or anything at face value.

Twelve when their father had died, Alex had accepted her mother’s remarriage less than a year later rather more easily than Greg, who had bitterly resented the intrusion. His departure after four years of unceasing animosity to join a group intending to work their way round the world had come almost as a relief at first, but she had missed him badly as the days stretched into weeks and months. Letters had been few and far between, the content woefully inadequate. The group he was travelling with had gradually dwindled until there were only three of them left, but he’d never shown any sign of wanting to come home.

The news just a couple of weeks ago of his marriage and move to Wyoming had been a double shock as she had believed him to be still somewhere in Australia. Coming at a time when she so badly needed to get away from it all, his suggestion that she take a trip over to meet her new in-laws had seemed like manna from heaven. By the time she got back, the whole sorry business would hopefully be old news.

‘Mum sends her love,’ she said now, adding tentatively, ‘She hopes you’ll see your way to visiting some time.’

‘Not while he’s still around,’ was the more than half-anticipated answer.

‘It’s been eight years,’ Alex protested. ‘You might find him easier to get along with now.’

‘And cows might fly!’ Greg shook his head. ‘No way am I going back there. Mum made her choice when she married him.’

Alex gave up, recognising finality when she heard it. She could be obdurate herself when it came to something she felt strongly about, but this went beyond that.

‘Was it your brother-in-law’s suggestion that you invite me out to stay?’ she asked, by way of changing the subject.

‘More Margot’s. She’s looking forward to meeting you. She wanted to come with me to the airport, but I thought we should have some time on our own to start with. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’ He put his foot down to overtake the only other vehicle in sight, shooting the speedometer needle over the seventy mark in total disregard of the speed limits and earning himself a horn blast from a gesticulating driver. ‘You never mentioned your own love life in your letters,’ he added, undisturbed by the censure. ‘Always providing I got them all, that is.’

‘I’d doubt it. You were hardly ever in one place long enough.’ Alex ran her hand under the silky curtain of hair at her nape, circling her small, firm chin in an effort to ease aching muscles. ‘I hope there’s plenty of hot water on tap. I feel in dire need of a shower!’

‘There’s plenty of everything on tap,’ Greg assured her. ‘And you didn’t answer the question.’

‘I didn’t realise you were asking one.’ She circled her chin in the other direction, concentrating on the movement. ‘If I haven’t mentioned men, it’s probably because there’s been no one special enough to write about.’

‘Maybe you’ll meet your one and only out here, then.’ Her laugh was short. ‘I’ll hardly be here long enough to develop any meaningful relationships.’

‘You never know. One look might be all it takes. You said you always wanted to be a cowgirl. This could be . your chance.’

‘It could at that.’ Alex summoned a suitably flippant note. ‘I’ll keep my eyes skimmed for a likely prospect.’

‘Don’t bother with the herd, go for the head bull,’ he advised. ‘Cat’s thirty-four. It’s high time he got hitched.’

‘Perhaps he’s married to his work. And I didn’t realise he was so much older than Margot,’ she tagged on contemplatively.

‘Her mother was into her forties when she had her. She died giving birth. Cal took over when his father was killed ten years ago. He started taking in dudes when beef prices went way down a couple of years later. There’s no call for any supplementary income these days but he still keeps them coming. Full capacity most summer weeks.’

‘It’s obviously a popular way to spend a vacation.’ Alex could think of no better way herself. ‘Are there likely to be any horses going spare? It’s been ages since I had chance of a ride.’

‘You’ll be able to take your pick,’ Greg confirmed. ‘Plenty of other activities too. Ever been hot-air ballooning?’

‘No—though I wouldn’t mind trying it. Not that I’m expecting to be treated like a paying guest. There must be plenty I can do to help out while I’m here.’

The thought alone was pleasurable. Stretching long, trouser-clad legs, Alex leaned back in her seat, determined to make the most of this opportunity. Mending fences, riding herd—it all sounded like heaven! Dorothy could have her Oz. She was going to be living her own fantasy this next week or two!

She must have dozed off after that. When she opened her eyes again the mountains were almost on top of them. They had left the main road, she saw, sitting up. The one they were on now was narrow, the surface roughened, the edges fenced off from the grassland either side. Horses grazed the immediate left-hand pasture.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said, stifling a yawn. ‘Flying always tires me out. How much further?’

‘We’ve been on Lazy Y for the last ten minutes,’ Greg returned. ‘That’s the homestead up ahead.’

Nestling at the head of the broad valley, the cluster of buildings resolved themselves into one large, central structure flanked by barns, with more buildings scattered among the trees beyond. Corrals occupied the foreground, one of them containing a mixed group of people in the process of unsaddling their mounts after a ride. Voices and laughter carried across on the still evening air as Greg brought the station wagon to a halt in front of the main house and killed the engine.

‘Back at the ranch,’ he said on an ironical note. ‘Cal’s probably still out there somewhere, but Margot will be around.’

Alex got out of the vehicle, easing her limbs and breathing in the sparkling air with enjoyment. No matter how warm the days, at six-thousand feet Wyoming summer evenings were cool; she could already feel the drop in temperature through the thin cotton of her shirt.

Her jacket was in the car where she had tossed it. She leaned in to get it. body supple as a willow, though a great deal more shapely, straightening again to view the house as she slid her arms into the sleeves. Two storeys of mellowed timber fronted by wide verandas, it fulfilled her mental image of what a ranch-house should look like to a degree. There was even an iron triangle hanging from a beam, complete with dangling metal rod. Used to summon guests over to the house for meals, she hoped. That would really add to the atmosphere!

The girl who appeared on the veranda was no detriment to the picture either. Small and slender in her jeans and blue and white checked shirt, and sporting a riotous crop of chestnut curls above a piquantly pretty face, she came running eagerly down the three broad steps.

‘Hi, Alex! It’s great to meet you at last!’ She went up on her toes to deliver a kiss on the cheek, laughing unaffectedly when her aim went a bit askew. ‘Aren’t you lovely and tall! Should have known you would be! Greg told me how much alike the two of you were.’ She stood back to direct a frank appraisal. ‘You’re more gorgeous even than I imagined! Is your hair natural?’

‘I’ve been known to have it streaked a time or two, but, otherwise, yes,’ Alex confirmed, laughing with her. ‘And you’re pretty gorgeous yourself, sister-in-law.’

‘Oh, gosh, we are, aren’t we? Sisters-in-law, I mean. I always wanted a sister!’

‘So how about saying thank you to the man who provided you with one?’ said Greg.

Margot flung her arms about his neck, the sheer adoration in her sparkling hazel eyes catching at Alex’s heartstrings. ‘Thank you, honey! Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

‘No need to overdo it,’ he admonished. He kissed the end of her nose and put her back on her feet, turning her about to deliver a light slap on her pert behind. ‘To duty, wench, or it’s going to be supper-time before we’re ready for it. Take Alex up to her room while I get the bags.’

A regular master of the house, thought Alex amusedly, moving to accompany the younger girl indoors. Not that Margot appeared to have any objections to being ordered around. That she was totally overboard where Greg was concerned was only too patently obvious.

It was too early as yet to say whether Greg returned any real depth of feeling, although, judging from his attitude just now, Alex somehow doubted it. Tolerant affection was the closest she could come to describing it, yet they’d been married little more than three months. Hardly time for the honeymoon to be over.

The house was no disappointment inside, either. Arches gave access to what looked like a vast living room on one side of the wide, pine-floored hall, and an equally vast dining room on the other, the central staircase branching left and right to open galleries.

The room Alex was to occupy was at the front of the house. Timber all the way through, it had woven rugs scattered across the floor and a hand-crocheted cover on the king-sized bed. The two windows were small and multi-paned. Designed to better resist the winter cold, Alex judged, loving the ambience of the place.

‘There’s a bathroom two doors down, and another the other side but no en suite I’m afraid,’ said Margot apologetically. ‘The guest cabins all have private facilities, but Cal said we’d knocked things about enough without trying to incorporate them here. Apart from the living and dining rooms, we don’t have paying guests in the house anyway. I hope you’ll be comfortable,’ she added, looking round. ‘It isn’t exactly luxurious.’

‘It couldn’t be better,’ Alex assured her. ‘None of it could!’

She went over to a window, looking down on the scene below with elation bubbling inside her at the thought of the days to come. Humping saddles, the recently returned party was headed for one of the barns, leaving their mounts in the confines of the corral. Another group of riders was coming in through the overbarred gateway, with its swinging sign. A working party this time, she guessed, spying coiled lariats hanging from one or two pommels. The real McCoy!

She watched the men dismount and start unsaddling, her eyes coming to rest on one lean and rangy figure in a beige shirt. The horse he was stripping was lean and rangy too, its hindquarters packed with muscular power. A fitting partnership, she thought, studying the taut stretch of blue jeans across hard male hemispheres.

‘Oh, good, the boys are back,’ exclaimed Margot, coming to stand beside her. ‘That’s my brother in the fawn shirt. We’re not a bit alike, as you can see even from here. He’s a Forrester through and through, whereas I take after my mother’s side. Cal more or less brought me up. I was only ten when Dad was killed. I owe him an awful lot.’

‘He only did what any brother would do in the same circumstances,’ said Greg, a trifle brusquely, from the doorway. ‘Don’t make a hero out of him.’

Margot laughed, apparently oblivious to any implied criticism. ‘Cal would be the last to want that. Can I help you unpack?’ she added ingenuously to Alex as the two cases were lifted onto the bed. ‘I’ll bet you have some lovely things!’

‘Judging from the weight, there’s a lot of them for certain,’ commented Greg on a lighter note. ‘Show me the woman who can go anywhere without taking her whole wardrobe!’

‘Show me the man who can refrain from making the same old comment,’ retorted Alex, equally lightly. ‘I didn’t bring anything particularly dressy, Margot, but I’d be grateful for some help in putting what I have brought away.’

‘You’ve only just time for that shower before supper,’ Greg warned her. ‘Less than half an hour.’

A shower wasn’t going to take her more than five minutes, Alex could have told him, and she certainly wasn’t going to be piling on make-up for the evening, but she took the point. Apart from what she needed for now, the unpacking could wait.

‘I’d better go and freshen up myself,’ said Margot. ‘You don’t need to go to any great trouble, by the way. Nobody does.’ She directed a bright-eyed smile at the other girl. ‘I’m really glad to have you here, Alex. The guests are fine, but they don’t stay around long enough to get to know all that well. Greg says you used to ride a lot. Do you still?’

‘Not as often as I’d like to,’ Alex acknowledged.

‘Well, you can catch up here. We’ve over seventy head to choose from. I don’t usually ride with the guests on short sessions, but I often go on the day-longs. They can be real fun.’

‘For some,’ commented Greg, bringing an apologetic expression to his wife’s face.

‘I know Cal’s been driving you hard, honey, but it’s only because he wants you to know how to run things, so that you can take over if needed.’

‘Sure he does.’ Greg didn’t try to hide the scepticism. ‘Anyway, it’s time we were out of here. You can fill Alex in on the rest of it later.’

Alex stayed where she was for a moment or two after they’d gone, a line between her brows as she reflected on the latter conversation. That Greg wasn’t too enthused about ranch work was apparent, yet what had he expected of life on a working ranch? It was probably true that in every relationship there was one who felt more than the other, but in his and Margot’s case the balance looked to be far too one-sided.

Shelving the matter for the moment, she moved to unlock one of the cases and extract her toilet bag and a wrap. First the shower, then she could decide what to wear for the evening.

There was no one in sight when she emerged onto the gallery, although she could hear voices coming from below. The bathroom proved both spacious and well-appointed, with a separate shower-cubicle in addition to the oversized bath. There were towels over the rails and more folded on racks above the bath, thick and soft and huge. Big country, big everything! she thought humorously.

As Greg had promised, there was no shortage of hot water. Accustomed to the low pressure back in her flat, she was almost knocked off her feet by the sheer force of it. Gasping, she turned the control down a couple of notches, glad of the cap protecting her hair. There wouldn’t have been time to dry it before supper and, while casual might be the order of the day, she certainly wouldn’t have felt comfortable sitting down to table with her hair dripping down her back.

Lulled by the warm flow, she stood for a few moments just enjoying it before starting to wash. Normally she cream-cleansed her face, in the interests of keeping her skin moisturised for the camera, but tonight she threw caution to the winds and applied a luxurious lather instead, relishing the feel of it, the fresh smell of it in her nostrils.

The sudden stinging pain as the suds found their way beneath her eyelids was excruciating. Eyes screwed up and watering, she rinsed off hastily and thrust open the shower door to grope for the towel she had left hanging on the convenient hook, only to feel it slide from her wet fingers onto the floor.

‘Let me help,’ said a deep male voice on a satirical note, freezing her where she stood.

Squinting through the tears, she saw the same lean and rangy figure she had watched earlier flick another towel from the rail in passing and the next moment was enveloped in it, with one free end offered in order for her to wipe her still streaming eyes.

Mingled embarrassment and anger conquered the pain. This was hardly the way she had anticipated meeting her host for the first time. He was making no attempt to move away, studying her with eyes the colour of burnished steel, a faint twist at the corners of his strongly defined mouth. A strong face altogether: skin taut over hard male cheekbones, jawline clean and forceful, the whole surmounted by a thick sweep of dark hair. At five feet nine in her bare feet, Alex considered herself a fair height, but he topped her by a good six inches.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘Fine,’ she returned, struggling to hang onto some thread of composure. ‘Are you in the habit of just walking in on people?’

‘The door wasn’t locked,’ he said without apology.

‘You must have heard the shower running!’

‘Not through the door.’

‘So the least you could have done was back straight out again!’

‘You looked in need of assistance,’ he returned imperturbably. ‘Why the concern? I wouldn’t have thought you had any hang-ups about nudity in your line.’

Her first instinct was to hotly deny the implication, her second and more compelling one to poke him in the eye, if only metaphorically. He wasn’t the first to take it for granted that stripping down to the bare essentials was the only way to make a living in the modelling world, and he almost certainly wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating.

‘I suppose you didn’t see anything you haven’t seen a thousand times before at that!’ she countered scathingly.

His lips widened in a brief, derisive smile. ‘A thousand might be stretching it a piece. If you’re through, I wouldn’t mind getting in there myself.’

‘By all means.’ Clutching the far from secure towel to her, Alex moved to pass him as he stepped to one side, promptly tripped over a trailing edge of towel and was saved from measuring her length only by the speed of Cal Forrester’s reactions. Held by the arm he had shot about her waist, with the slipping towel threatening to expose her assets to even closer scrutiny, she found dignity taking second place to the sudden vital awareness of his hard masculinity. ‘The head bull’, Greg had called him, but bulls were big and cumbersome, not lean and lithe. She felt her stomach muscles contract.

‘Better watch your step,’ he said, letting go of her. ‘You seem pretty accident-prone.’

‘I will, don’t worry,’ she retorted, pulling herself together. ‘Thanks again for the...assistance. I’d have been lost without you.’

The satire engendered a sudden glint in the grey eyes. ‘Any time.’

Alex made her escape without further mishap, gathering her wrap and slippers from the chair where she had left them as she went. As first impressions went she had certainly made an impact, she reflected wryly. Not that Cal Forrester had looked all that impressed, she had to admit.

Taking a look in the dressing-table mirror back in her room, she could hardly blame him. With her hair still tucked under the shower-cap and her eyes reddened by the soap, she looked far from a pretty sight. She dragged off the cap to allow her hair to tumble down about her shoulders, dropping the towel to reach for her wrap.

Slenderly curved at waist and hip, breasts high and firm, legs long and shapely, she had received many offers of nude work over the years, but it had never attracted her. She’d advertised everything from hosiery to make-up, modelled catalogue clothing and hostessed a television quiz-show for a couple of series, among other things, but had never quite managed to gain one of the real big-time contracts that would have made her a household name. Not that it mattered any more. She was through with that part of her life for good.

Throwing on a pair of harem trousers and a loose, silky top, she put a brush through her hair and applied a layer of amber lipstick. Her brows and lashes were dark enough not to need any enhancement, not that she would have bothered even if they hadn’t been. She much preferred to go natural when she wasn’t working.

The thought of seeing Cal Forrester again after that bathroom fiasco brought warmth to her cheeks. Right as she’d no doubt been in taking it that hers was far from the first female body he’d seen in the nude, it made little difference to her feelings when it came to her own exposure. She was no prude, but neither was she an exhibitionist—although he obviously took her for such.

What she certainly wasn’t going to do was let him see any discomfiture on her part, she told herself firmly. Let him make what assumptions he liked. What could a jumped-up cowboy stuck out here in the back of beyond know about it anyway?

Coming from just below her window, the sudden and enthusiastic clanging of iron on iron made her jump. The anticipated summons to supper, she assumed. The sun was lowering fast, gilding the edges of the clouds and spreading deep shadows across the landscape. Whatever she might feel about the owner, the Lazy Y was no disappointment so far, Alex acknowledged. She couldn’t wait to sample the rest.

CHAPTER TWO

STILL closed when she emerged from her room, the next door along opened, as if on cue, just as she reached it Dressed now in pale grey trousers and black shirt open on the brown column of his throat, the Lazy Y’s owner looked less of a cowboy but no less of a threat to her peace of mind as he ran his eyes over her, that same, derisive little smile plucking at his lips.

‘I guess I neglected to welcome you properly back there,’ he said. ‘Other things on my mind.’ He put out a hand, one dark brow lifting sardonically at her involuntary withdrawal. ‘It’s to shake, that’s all.’

Biting back the caustic retort, Alex extended her own hand, tensing as the long brown fingers closed briefly about it. There was no disputing his physical charisma; he radiated vibrant masculinity from every pore. She could sense the latent power in that leanly muscled build.

‘It’s good of you to give me the opportunity to see Greg again,’ she said, doing her best to conceal her reactions. ‘I really am grateful.’

His shrug was dismissive. ‘No big deal. Let’s go and eat.’

Margot came out from one of the rooms opposite as they moved towards the stairs. She was still wearing jeans, though the blue and white shirt had been replaced by a plain white one. She looked at Alex with an admiration untainted by any hint of feminine jealousy.

‘You look wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘Isn’t she just gorgeous, Cal?’

‘Without a doubt,’ he agreed on a dry note. ‘A regular Helen of Troy!’

Capable of launching a regular wallop if pushed much further! thought Alex darkly, fixing a smile on her face for Margot’s benefit.

‘I think I might be a little over-dressed,’ she said.

Margot shook her head emphatically. ‘Oh, no, you’re just right! Everyone knows Greg’s sister is a model. They’d all be disappointed if you turned up looking ordinary. Not that you could, anyway,’ she added quickly. ‘Look ordinary, I mean. You’re not—’

‘I’d quit while you’re ahead,’ advised her brother. She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘Alex knows what I mean.’

‘All the way,’ Alex assured her. ‘And I’m flattered.’ She fell into step with her sister-in-law to descend the stairs, leaving Cal to follow on behind. ‘Greg already go down, did he?’

‘No, but he won’t be a minute. I’d have waited for him but, like he says, we’re not joined at the hip.’

A pretty insensitive thing to say to a new bride, Alex reflected, doubting if Margot was quite as impervious as she appeared to be on the surface. Greg needed to practise some tender loving care.

People were flooding into the dining room, the majority of them dressed the way Margot was, with only a couple of the women wearing skirts. There was just the one long table, with no particular seat allocation from what Alex could gather.

Cal pulled out a chair for her halfway down the table and took the one next to her himself, introducing her to those within earshot. Seated down at the other end of the table, Margot looked to be deep in animated conversation with her own nearest neighbours.

‘Greg tells us you’re pretty big in Europe, Alex,’ said one of the women.

‘Greg exaggerates,’ Alex replied lightly. ‘I’m just one of many.’

‘Modest as they come!’ declared her brother, passing behind her on his way to the chair left vacant at Margot’s side. ‘Hi, everybody! Had a good day?’

The ensuing chorus established that everyone had indeed. Glad to be out of the limelight, Alex listened with enjoyment for the following few minutes as one after another expounded on events.

Eighteen was the lower age limit for guests, Greg had told her, though most of this group were in their thirties and forties, with one couple approaching retirement age from the look of them. Children would be too much of a responsibility on a working ranch, she guessed.

None of the men she had seen riding in with Cal were present, which meant that the hands must have their own dining quarters. Not quite the classless society she had visualised, then.

She was vitally conscious of the closeness of Cal’s knee to hers beneath the chequered cloth, steeling herself not to jerk away on the couple of occasions that they momentarily touched. The degree of physical awareness he aroused in her was undeniable. Like being connected to the national grid, she thought whimsically.

Judging from the way some of the other women reacted to him, she wasn’t on her own in finding him pretty electrifying either. Probably as much to do with what he did for a living as his general appearance. There was something inherently alluring about cowboys—even modern-day ones.

Greg hadn’t exaggerated about the food. It left little to be desired either in quantity or quality. Alex had never seen steaks as big or in such profusion, never eaten chicken that tasted the way this did. The vegetables were home-grown, with three varieties of potato alone. She had no room left for the banana cream pie or fruit cobbler that followed.

The whole party adjourned to the veranda for coffee afterwards, leaving the two women who had served up the meal to clear away. Darkness was coming down fast, the stars already twinkling in a sky of grey velvet. The jet lag Alex had been conscious of earlier seemed to have dissipated. She felt exhilarated, eager for the morrow when she could maybe start doing some of the things she yearned to do. With staff on hand to take care of the general housework and cooking there was obviously no need of help in that direction, which left her free to apply herself in others. All she had to do was prove herself capable.

Cal was seated nearby. One leg lifted carelessly over the other knee, hands linked behind his head, he looked surprisingly relaxed. Surprising because Alex hadn’t imagined him the type to spend an evening lazing around with the guests. He had hardly spoken a word to her during supper. Not that he’d had very much opportunity, she supposed, considering the way the woman who had seated herself on his other side had monopolised his attention.

She stole a glance at him, feeling a sudden frisson down her spine as the grey eyes turned unexpectedly her way.

‘You must be finding this very dull compared with what you’d normally be doing of an evening,’ he commented.

‘Not in the least,’ she denied. ‘I like to get up early, so I’m very rarely late out of bed.’

There was mockery in the slant of his mouth. ‘Always alone?’

Alex looked back at him steadily. ‘I don’t really think that concerns you.’

‘You’re right,’ he agreed, ‘but it interests me. The way you look, you certainly can’t be short of men in your life.’

‘The way I look generally attracts the wrong kind of men,’ she said.

Dark brows lifted. ‘What would you consider the right kind?’

‘Those with a little more to them than an inflated income and an ego to match,’ she retorted smartly. ‘Money can’t buy everything.’

‘It can go a long way.’ He ran a reminiscent gaze down the slender length of her body, returning to view her flushed cheeks and sparking eyes with a smile that made her want to kick him. ‘Why are you really here, Alex?’

The question took her by surprise. It was an effort to keep her voice even. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’

‘Don’t bother feeding me any “had to see big brother again” line. You neither of you come across as pining from lack of contact.’

‘Perhaps because we’re English, and the English don’t parade their emotions. If I’d realised I was unwelcome,’ she added tautly, ‘I certainly wouldn’t have come!’

Cal shook his head. ‘I didn’t say you were unwelcome, only that I doubted if the chance of seeing Greg again would be enough to bring you all the way out here. Hardly your scene, is it?’

‘You’ve no idea what my scene might be!’

‘I know what it isn’t. You’re as out of place on the Lazy Y as I would be in front of a camera!’

The way his chair was angled she was, to a certain extent, boxed into a corner, anything he said to her unlikely to be overheard above the general chatter. Done purposely? she wondered.

‘If you’re so perceptive,’ she challenged, ‘perhaps you’d like to take a guess at what other motive I might have had!’

‘Running away from something, maybe.’

Her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t know, she reassured herself swiftly. The story was hardly of world interest. She conjured a laugh, hearing the brittle edge. ‘And there I was congratulating myself on having committed the perfect crime!’

‘Or someone,’ he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. He gave her no time to form a response. ‘What do you plan on doing with yourself while you are here? Your brother’s going to be pretty busy.’

‘Real or manufactured jobs?’ Alex regretted the question the moment it was out, seeing the grey eyes suddenly harden, but it was too late to retract it. She made an effort to modify it instead. ‘You seem to have been piling on the pressure a bit hard.’

‘Been complaining, has he?’

‘Not in so many words. More an impression I gathered.’

‘You’ve been here all of three hours. You think that time enough to start making snap judgements?’

‘I don’t need to read a whole book to get an idea of the plot,’ she countered, abandoning the pacification. ‘I think you’re probably giving Greg the run-around in the hope of showing him in his true colours—or what you consider his true colours. He’s not the kind of husband you’d have chosen for Margot, is he?’

The hands had come down from behind the dark head, now, to rest on the arms of his chair, fingers curving the edge of the wood. Strong fingers, accustomed to controlling mettlesome horseflesh—among other things.

‘If we’re going in for plain speaking, no, he isn’t,’ came the blunt agreement. ‘If she had to marry anybody this soon it should have been someone she knew something about.’

‘Someone you already had in mind yourself, by any chance?’

‘Someone she had in mind before meeting up with that brother of yours!’

Blue eyes clashed with grey, holding fast through sheer effort of will. ‘Obviously not in any serious sense. If she’s old enough to be married at all, she’s old enough to make her own decisions.’

His lip curled. ‘I guess you’ve been making yours most of your life!’

‘Only since I realised it was my life.’

‘Never made any mistakes?’

‘Nothing radical.’ It was a long way from the truth, but Alex was in no mood for ethical debate with herself. ‘Anyway, it isn’t me we’re talking about.’

They were drawing attention, she realised, catching a couple of speculative glances. Her smile was purely for effect. ‘I think we’d better leave it at that.’

Cal inclined his head. ‘For now.’ He got to his feet in one lithe movement, raising his voice to be heard over the others. ‘Early start for those taking the all-day ride. Anybody not saddled up by six-thirty gets left behind!’

Groans greeted the announcement, though no one seemed seriously perturbed. To Alex, a full-day ride sounded tempting but, having not been on horseback for several weeks, she knew it would be wiser to harden up a little first. The last thing she needed was saddle-soreness.

In any case, she thought wryly, she hadn’t been invited.

Cal went on indoors without a backward glance, leaving her to reflect on her lack of wisdom in calling him out the way she had. She hadn’t set out with that intention. Not consciously, at any rate.

Wise or not, Alex was pretty certain she was right about his motives in putting Greg through the mill. He could even be hoping that, given enough of a hard time, his unwelcome brother-in-law would take off for pastures new. Greg’s motives in marrying Margot might not be all they should be, but, the way she so obviously felt about him, she would be devastated if he did up and leave. That surely had to be taken into account.

Submerged in her thoughts, Alex started when one subject of them dropped into the chair recently vacated.

‘Feeling the effects?’ asked Margot sympathetically. ‘I’ve never flown the Atlantic myself, but I can imagine what it’s like to have all those hours’ difference. What time will it be in England now?’

Glancing at the watch she had altered on the domestic flight from Denver, Alex did a quick calculation. ‘Around five in the morning,’ she hazarded, suddenly aware of it now. ‘I’ve been on the go more than twenty-four hours!’

‘Time you got some sleep, then, I’d think.’

Alex smiled at her. ‘I think you’re right. I want to be fresh for the morning.’

‘Greg might not be around until evening, but I’ll be here if you’d like some company.’

‘I’d be glad of it. I’ve never been on a working ranch before. I’ve never been on any kind of ranch before, if it comes to that. It’s all quite new to me.’

‘You have some big farms in England, though, don’t you? I’d have thought they were much the same kind of thing.’

‘The biggest would hardly fill a corner of this spread. They don’t use horses either—not for moving the cattle, at any rate. It’s a whole different world.’ Alex paused a moment, viewing the interest in the youthfully lovely face opposite. ‘Greg must bring you over to visit,’ she said on impulse. ‘My flat isn’t very big but we’d manage.’

‘I’d love it!’ Margot sounded genuinely enthusiastic. ‘I always wanted to visit England.’

If Margot and Greg did come over, it was hardly going to be in the immediate future, Alex told herself. Time enough to get her life back in order first. Not that she imagined either of them would condemn her out of hand even if they did discover her secret. Cal was the only one likely to give no quarter.

She smothered an involuntary yawn with the back of her hand, aware of weariness infiltrating both body and mind. ‘I’d better go on up before I fall asleep right here.’

‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Margot. ‘Nobody keeps late hours. Early morning is the best time of day.’

Alex could agree with that. She had never been one for sleeping in herself. A few hours’ sleep and she would be ready to tackle anything—including Cal Forrester!

Others were already drifting away. Engrossed in conversation with one of the guests, Greg spared her the briefest attention when she paused to say goodnight.

‘See you in a little while, honey,’ he added to Margot, at her back. ‘Charlie’s giving me the low-down on the insurance business.’

‘Good line to be in,’ said Charlie. ‘Sure has been for me, at any rate. Way to go!’

For him, perhaps, Alex reflected, catching the expression in her brother’s eyes and hoping he wasn’t already contemplating a change of direction. Ranch life may not have turned out to be all he had anticipated, but the Lazy Y was Margot’s home. Two months was hardly a fair trial, in any case.

She was reading too much into too little again, she chided herself, continuing on her way indoors. After eight years she could hardly hope to know her brother’s mind on any level.

There was no sign of Cal inside. No sign of anyone, if it came to that. Margot said goodnight at the top of the stairs, looking, Alex thought, a little too determinedly cheerful. How many times, she wondered, had Greg left his wife to come to bed on her own like this?

‘I’m really looking forward to seeing more of the ranch tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we could take a ride together. Not too far, though,’ she added laughingly. ‘I need to take it in easy stages.’

‘Right after breakfast,’ Margot promised, obviously only too ready to fall in with whatever was proposed. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Alex,’ she added impulsively.

‘So am I.’ Alex leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her sister-in-law’s cheek. ‘See you in the morning. Bright and early!’

The door to Cal’s room was firmly closed. Whether he was in there or not there was no way of knowing. If he was, and asleep already, it was unlikely that any small noise was going to waken him but, nevertheless, Alex found herself tiptoeing around the bedroom as she unpacked.

Would he sleep in pyjamas? she found herself wondering, and had a sudden vivid impression of that long, lean body minus anything at all, bringing her to an abrupt stop in the act of easing open a drawer to stow away some clothing. She was hardly in the habit of indulging in lewd thoughts about men—for the most part she preferred not to think of them at all these days—but there was something about Cal Forrester that stirred her baser instincts: something that liking had little to do with.

Dangerous only if she allowed it to be, she told herself hardily, stuffing undies into the half-open drawer, and that she had no intention of doing.

She awoke to daylight and a feeling of well-being that lasted only as long as it took her to register the position of the hands on the bedside clock. Nine-thirty! The day was half over!

Flinging back the bedclothes, she slid her feet into the neat black mules she used as slippers and reached for the light cotton wrap she had left over the end of the bed. Breakfast would be long over by now, the all-day party miles out on the trail. With any luck, Cal would be off the homestead too. She would hate to face that derisive smile of his when she finally got downstairs.

Showered, and dressed in jeans and blue chambray shirt, she tied her hair back from her face with a pale blue scarf and applied a hasty smear of lipstick before leaving the room. Better late than never, she told herself, but it wasn’t convincing.

One of the youngish women who had served supper was crossing the wide hall as Alex descended the stairs. She paused on sight of her.

‘Didn’t realise you were up yet,’ she said without censure. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’

‘Just coffee will be fine, thanks,’ Alex responded, unwilling to put the woman to any trouble when she must have other things to do. ‘You’re Janet, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right. Janet Leeson. You can’t go till lunchtime on just coffee,’ she added. ‘I’ll fetch you some pancakes and syrup.’

‘I’d be happier with toast,’ Alex conceded. ‘Quite happy to do it myself too. You don’t have to wait on me.’

Janet lifted her shoulders in a cheerful shrug. ‘It’s what I’m paid for, honey. Anyway, Buck doesn’t like folk invading his kitchen. You take yourself out on the veranda and I’ll bring it to you. Too good a morning to hang about indoors.’

And had been for some time, thought Alex , ruefully, moving to obey the injunction as the older woman turned back the way she had come. At least she felt fully rested. After ten full hours’ sleep she should do too!

There was no sign of Margot when she stepped onto the veranda. The mountains were etched against a sky of cobalt blue, the sun a blazing orb already high overhead. From the step she looked out over the corrals to the rolling grasslands beyond, glimpsing water through the belt of trees a quarter of a mile or so away. Having a river running right through Lazy Y land had to make it a particularly valuable property, she reckoned.

Life here must be pretty good all round, although the winters would be far more severe than anything she had ever experienced, with snow feet rather than mere inches deep. Even then there would be compensations such as skiing right on the doorstep, for instance. Not that she could ski, but given the incentive...

‘So you made it,’ commented a fast becoming familiar voice behind her, making muscle and sinew tense in involuntary response. ‘Sleep well?’

Alex turned about slowly, maintaining a deadpan expression with the utmost difficulty. Dressed once more in jeans and shirt, thumbs hooked casually into his belt, one dark brow lifted in ironical enquiry, Cal leaned against the doorframe. How long had he been standing there watching her? she wondered fleetingly.

‘Very well, thanks,’ she said, determined not to show any discomfiture over her tardiness. ‘I didn’t expect to find you still around at this hour.’

‘I had some paperwork to catch up on. There’s more to raising cattle than riding herd.’

‘I’m sure there is,’ Alex returned smoothly. ‘Just as there’s more to modelling than standing in front of a camera.’

For a brief moment there was genuine humour in the grey eyes, then the mockery was back two-fold. ‘I’ll take your word for it. Have you eaten?’

‘Janet is bringing me some toast and coffee,’ she said, and felt herself moved to add, ‘I’d have got it myself, but I understand your cook doesn’t like strangers wandering about the kitchen.’

‘Buck doesn’t like anybody wandering about the kitchen,’ Cal agreed. ‘Including me.’

Alex lifted a brow in faithful imitation. ‘You allow him to dictate?’

‘Considering the difficulty I’d have in replacing him, I don’t have much alternative.’

‘Oh, well, I don’t imagine you’re all that eager to spend time in the kitchen anyway,’ she said blandly.

‘You could be right about that.’ He came away from the doorjamb to allow Janet through, following her out to indicate the nearest group of chairs with a nod of his head. ‘I’ll join you.’

There were two cups already on the tray, Alex noted. Obviously Janet had anticipated some such move. She was none too keen on the idea herself, but she didn’t have much alternative either.

Cal waited until she was seated before taking a seat himself, lifting both boot-clad feet to rest a heel on the rail with the ease of long custom.

‘I wouldn’t mind a piece of toast to go with it, if there’s any going spare,’ he said when Alex handed him a cup of the hot black coffee. ‘Figuring always did work me up an appetite.’

‘I’m surprised you don’t employ an accountant,’ she commented.

‘I did at one time, until I found he was cheating me blind.’

Blue eyes lifted to regard the strongly carved features, taking in the firm line of his mouth, the hardness of jaw. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He spent some time behind bars.’ The tone was matter-of-fact. ‘He was lucky.’

‘Meaning he might have got worse if he hadn’t been locked up?’

‘Meaning he was out inside a few months. We don’t do any stringin’ up these days.’

It was hardly what she had meant, but she let it pass. Chair tipped back, Cal looked in imminent danger of having it slide from under him, but she doubted if it would. Stretched out the way they were, and encased in close-fitting denim, his legs were long and straight, his thigh muscles clearly defined, his hips lean and hard. There was no bulging of surplus flesh above the belt at his waist, just a broadening of frame to meet the wider line of his shoulders.

‘Margot was going to show me round the place this morning,’ she said on a somewhat edgy note. ‘Have you seen her?’

‘She’s helping out over at the cabins,’ he advised. ‘One of the girls called in sick. I said I’d look after you till she’s through.’

‘You must have better things to do with your time.’

‘Not especially. I’d hardly leave a guest to her own devices anyway.’

‘I’m not a guest,’ she pointed out. ‘Not a paying one, at any rate. You don’t have to entertain me.’

He flicked her a deceptively lazy glance, dwelling on the soft fullness of her mouth. ‘Is that what I’m doing?’

Alex felt a sudden and unwelcome spiralling of heat from the pit of her stomach, the warmth running up under her skin as for a crazy moment she imagined what those lips of his would feel like on hers. She might not like the man but it had little bearing on her responses when he looked at her that way.

‘Superbly,’ she responded, emphasising the sarcasm in an effort to cover her confusion. ‘The perfect host!’

‘I’m gratified.’ The expression in his eyes suggested an inner amusement. ‘How much longer do you reckon on staying in the same line?’

The abrupt change of subject left her floundering again for a moment. She recovered with an effort, summoning a dismissive shrug. ‘As long as the jobs keep coming in, I suppose.’

‘And when they don’t?’

‘Something will turn up.’

‘Or someone?’

It was all she could do to keep an even tone. ‘Maybe even that. Providing it was the right someone.’

There was irony in his smile. ‘True love or nothing, you mean? I didn’t have you down for a romantic.’

‘Just goes to show how wrong impressions can be. Maybe you’re not quite the cynic you come across as either,’ she added with deliberation. ‘Could be I’ve totally misread your attitude where my brother’s concerned.’

‘An attitude based on two months’ observation,’ came the dry return. ‘He’s given me little reason to believe he cares for Margot the way she cares for him.’

The same doubt she had herself, Alex acknowledged wryly, but wasn’t prepared to admit it.

‘Few men wear their hearts on their sleeves,’ she defended. ‘That doesn’t mean they don’t feel anything. Greg wouldn’t have married her if he didn’t love her.’

‘It’s been eight years since the two of you were together,’ Cal observed. ‘Do you consider you still know him all that well?’

Alex bit her lip. ‘People don’t alter all that much.’

‘Depends where they’ve been and who with. Eight years bumming round the world is hardly likely to strengthen character.’

‘He had jobs,’ she protested. ‘He worked on an Australian sheep station, for one.’

‘So he says.’

‘It’s true! He wrote to me from there.’ Alex had no intention of admitting that it had been only the one letter. ‘He was in a job when Margot met him, wasn’t he?’

‘Nightclub barman!’ Cal made it sound like the lowest of the low. ‘She didn’t belong in any nightclub to start with.’

‘So blame the people who took her there in the first place.’

‘I do,’ he said grimly. ‘They won’t be coming here again, that’s for sure!’

Alex could hardly blame him for that—any more than she could blame him too much for failing to be overjoyed when his baby sister turned up with a husband in tow. In all fairness, she didn’t see the present-day Greg as ideal husband material herself, but if he was what Margot wanted then it was surely best for her that every effort was made to keep the two of them together?

‘Has it occurred to you,’ she ventured, ‘that if you did succeed in getting rid of Greg you might just finish up losing Margot too?’

‘She wouldn’t go with him.’ It was a flat statement of fact.

‘You mean you wouldn’t allow it?’

‘I mean I doubt very much that he’d want her to go with him.’ He brought his feet down to the ground again, the chair back onto its four legs. ‘If you’ve finished, we’ll go fix you up with a horse.’

Alex replaced her empty cup in its saucer, aware of the futility in attempting to pursue the subject further. Not that there was a great deal more she could say on Greg’s behalf, in any case. It was up to him to prove his own worth.

‘I’m quite happy to wait until Margot’s free,’ she declared, reluctant to spend any more time in his company than she had to. ‘In fact, I’d be more than happy to lend a hand.’

‘Not necessary,’ he said. ‘But the offer’s appreciated.’

Like hell! she thought sourly. Ten to one he took it for granted that she wouldn’t know one end of a vacuum cleaner from another. If he had the same idea where horses were concerned, he was in for a surprise.

CHAPTER THREE

THERE were over a dozen animals in the corral, including the grey Alex recognised as the one Cal had ridden the previous evening. She settled her gaze on a deep-chested bay gelding restlessly pacing the perimeter fence.

‘Is he available?’ she asked, nodding in his direction.

‘Available, yes,’ Cal confirmed, ‘but not suitable. The pinto is a good, smooth ride. Likewise the sorrel.’

‘Suitable for a novice, maybe, but I have ridden before,’ Alex returned firmly. ‘The bay will suit me fine.’

‘I said not.’ The tone was level enough, but there was no doubting the determination.

Argument was obviously going to get her nowhere, she accepted with reluctance, squashing the urge. What was needed was a demonstration of her abilities.

‘I’ll take the chestnut mare over there, then,’ she said, judging her the liveliest of the rest.

Cal inclined his head in mocking acknowledgement of her compromise. ‘Let’s go get a saddle.’

The tack room was at the end of the barn she had seen everyone making for last night, the tack itself in plentiful supply. Cal picked up a tooled leather saddle which looked twice the size of its English equivalent, dumping it into her arms with scant ceremony.

‘Everybody does their own toting,’ he notified her, hearing her involuntary gasp at the weight. ‘Most folk like to stick to the same mount the whole time they’re here.’

‘I’d like to try different ones,’ she said. ‘If that’s okay?’

The shrug was easy. ‘Fine. Just stay away from the bay. He can be a cussed beggar when he has a mind.’

He wasn’t the only one, thought Alex determinedly. She would ride that horse if it was the last thing she ever did!

The saddle grew heavier by the second as they made their way back across to the corral. She was thankful to sling it over the rail while Cal went in to put a bridle on the chestnut with a dexterity that thwarted her attempt to evade it. Hardly on a par with the bay, Alex considered, but at least not devoid of spirit.

She lofted the saddle over the gleaming back without waiting to be told, feeling the strain on her muscles. Talking softly to the animal, she reached for the girths, fastening them loosely at first, then taking up the slack when the deliberately drawn breath was released.

Ears pricking to the sound of her voice, the mare stood still as a rock as she gathered the reins in one hand and put a foot in the stirrup. A light bound and she was up and astride, settling down into the depths of the saddle with a lift of her eyebrows at the man watching.

‘Feels fine,’ she said. ‘Like sitting in an armchair! I’m used to a lot less saddle than this.’

‘A few less hours at a time in it too,’ returned Cal drily. ‘Walk her round a bit.’

She did so, enjoying the feel. ‘What’s her name?’ she asked.

‘Minty,’ he supplied. ‘Try a trot.’

Minty responded without hesitation to a touch of the heels. Using the Western-style one-handed hold on the reins, and refraining from rising, Alex found no difficulty in signalling changes of direction. She was showing off a little, she knew, but it was time Cal realised how far from a novice she actually was.

‘Guess that’s good enough,’ he declared after a minute or two.

Alex leaned forward to pat the silky neck as she brought the mare to a halt, wryly accepting that that was all she was going to get by way of approval. ‘Any limitations on where I can go with her?’

‘I’ll be going into town this afternoon,’ he said. ‘You can ride in with me. Don’t bother putting the tack away. Stick it on the rail over there.’

Alex sat where she was for a fuming moment as he moved off back towards the house, strongly tempted to take the bit between her own teeth. She had already shown she could handle the animal; there was no call for any further supervision!

Discretion beat rebellion into reluctant submission. The fellowship between her and her sister-in-law’s brother was tentative, to say the least. Defiance of the kind she was contemplating was hardly scheduled to improve things. Like it or not, while she was here on the Lazy Y, what he said went.

Having arrived on the scene in time to hear the edict, Margot grinned as she dismounted, obviously aware of the brief struggle. ‘I half expected you to take off regardless.’ she commented.

‘He’s the boss,’ Alex responded lightly, unbuckling the girths. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing the town anyway. How far is it?’

‘A few miles. Not that it’s anything like what you’re used to.’

Alex glanced at the younger girl, struck by a certain disparagement in her voice. ‘I’d be very disappointed if it were. You’ll be coming along too, won’t you?’

Margot shook her head. ‘I’ve one or two things I need to do this afternoon.’

Which left her well and truly saddled, Alex thought ruefully, bracing herself for the descending weight.

Turned back into the corral, Minty kicked up her heels, as if in protest at the re-confinement. Alex knew how she felt. A good gallop across the wide open expanses out there would have done them both the world of good.

‘I always envied the girls at school who had ponies of their own,’ she said, reluctant to leave the animals. ‘I’d have been in seventh heaven living your kind of life, Margot!’

Slender shoulders rose in deprecation. ‘I’d be the same if I had your life. Going on shoots, wearing glamorous clothes—seeing all those places! Before that trip to Vegas the farthest I’d been was Denver. I though being married would make things different,’ she added, ‘but it hasn’t. Not really. I’m still stuck in the same rut.’

Alex looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Does Cal know how you feel?’

She shook her head. ‘I didn’t realise what I was missing myself until I went to Vegas. There was so much to do—so many places to go!’

‘All of it costing money,’ Alex said softly. ‘You must have realised Greg didn’t have very much.’

‘I didn’t think about it,’ Margot admitted. ‘We had such a wonderful time together.’

Alex could imagine. With just the one week in which to secure his future, Greg would have pulled out all the stops. It must have been a real shock when he had met his brother-in-law and realised just how far from Easy Street he’d landed himself.

She was doing it again, she acknowledged ruefully, pulling herself up. She had no real proof, as yet, of what Greg’s motives had been.

‘Do you love him?’ she asked, and saw the hazel eyes take on a glow.

‘Oh, yes!’ The glow faded again. ‘I don’t think he loves me, though. Not in the same way.’

‘Men don’t always find it easy to demonstrate their feelings, but I’m sure he does.’ Alex did her best to infuse certainty into her voice. ‘Why else would he have been so eager for me to come and meet you?’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Margot was obviously eager to be convinced. ‘I’m probably expecting too much.’ She paused. ‘Have you ever been in love yourself?’

Alex summoned a smile, a lightness of tone. ‘I’m still waiting for the bells to ring.’

‘But you must have met a lot of terrific men!’

‘Not ones likely to offer the kind of relationship I’m looking for.’

‘You mean marriage?’

‘Possibly. Something lasting, at any rate.’

‘The way you feel about this kind of life, you and Cal would be well suited.’

Alex cracked a laugh. ‘Like chalk and cheese!’

‘A whole lot better than him and Diane,’ Margot continued, ignoring the irony. ‘She’s nowhere near as nice as you are. Nowhere near as good-looking either.’

‘Well, thanks.’ Alex was watching the bay, admiring his powerful conformation. ‘Who is she?’

‘Joss Lattimer’s daughter. He owns the Circle X.’

‘They have an understanding, do they?’

‘Diane would like to think they have.’ Margot wrinkled her nose. ‘I’d hate to have her as a sister-in-law.’

‘Well, if she’s what Cal wants...’ Alex turned away from the fence, dismissing the subject from her mind. ‘You were going to show me round.’

They spent the next hour looking over the homestead. Log-built, the six guest cabins were self-contained and comfortably furnished, two of them capable of sleeping four people if required, although the majority apparently came in pairs and sometimes even singly. They were heated by wood-burning stoves in the winter when people came to ski and sleigh-ride, with Calor gas fires as stand-bys for the cool summer evenings. Alex would have been quite content to live in one of them the whole year round.

The bunk house, over beyond the barn, was for the single hands only, the married ones coming in on a daily basis. Most were out on jobs at present, two of them with Greg, line-riding the fences to check for breakages.

‘The Circle X lost about thirty head to rustlers last week,’ Margot said. ‘They back a truck into the fence to break a section down, and use dogs to bring in as many as they can. Cal set a trap last year and put one gang out of circulation for a while, but that didn’t deter the others for long. It’s too lucrative a game.’

‘What kind of a trap?’ Alex asked, intrigued to hear that rustling actually still took place.

‘He put a bunch of prime steers where they could be easily got at, then lay in wait with several of the boys every night for more than a week waiting for them.’

‘But how could he be sure they’d come? I mean, if they didn’t know the cattle were there...’

‘They send spotters out looking for likely prospects. They must have thought they’d got it made.’

‘They were all caught?’

‘Every one. Got twelve months apiece. If it had been up to Cal, it would have been twelve years!’

Alex didn’t doubt it. She could visualise the scene in her mind’s eye: the men lying in wait in the night; the truck coming into view, engine muffled as horses’ hooves might once have been; the sudden commotion as the ambush was sprung. In former days, the thieves might have found themselves strung up on the spot. A few months in jail hardly carried the same deterrent value.

With all the guests on the day-ride, and Greg still out, it was just the three of them for lunch on the veranda. Remembering the amount of food available at supper, Alex conserved her appetite. She might have given up modelling but that was no excuse for gorging herself.

‘You don’t eat enough to keep a sparrow alive!’ scoffed Cal, watching her quarter an apple for dessert. ‘A few extra pounds wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Alex has an absolutely perfect figure now,’ declared his sister with some asperity. ‘I wish I could look like she does!’

‘You’d need stretching a few inches to start with,’ he said. ‘Plus a bleach-job on the hair.’

‘What time did you intend leaving?’ asked Alex, judging it better to change the subject than go for his guts.

‘As soon as we’re through.’ From the glint in his eyes, he was well aware of her irritation. ‘You might find a hat useful. Keep the sun out of your eyes.’

‘I’ve got several,’ Margot offered. ‘You’re welcome to borrow one.’

Alex smiled at her. ‘Thanks. I’ll probably buy myself one as a souvenir to take home.’

The hazel eyes took on a sudden concern. ‘You don’t have to go soon, do you?’

It was difficult to know quite how to answer that without appearing to take too much for granted. ‘I don’t have anything particularly pressing lined up,’ she acknowledged diffidently.

‘Slack time of year, is it?’ Cal gave her no time to answer the question. ‘There’s no limit this end on how long you stay.’

‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘That’s very generous of you.’

His lips slanted. ‘It’s no hardship. You might like to join in some of the guest activities. There’s a cookout tomorrow night, and the Prescott rodeo on Saturday, with a square dance in the evening.’

‘What about general ranch work?’ she asked. ‘Greg said the guests joined in with that too.’

‘Some of the men like to put in a spell or two.’

‘Women barred, are they?’

Cal eyed the bright cascade of her hair, freed now from its tethering scarf, the fine boning of her features; dropping his gaze to view her well-tended hands with obvious implication. ‘It’s no job for a woman.’

‘Where I come from,’ she said with purpose, ‘women are deemed capable of doing anything they feel capable of doing!’

‘Always providing they don’t overestimate their capabilities.’

‘The proof of the pudding is in the eating. I already showed you I can sit a horse.’

‘Think you could use a rope too?’

‘I could learn.’

The smile was tolerant. ‘I’ll consider it.’ He pushed back his chair and got to his feet, tall, dark and infuriating. ‘See you down at the corral in ten minutes.’

Margot chuckled at the expression on Alex’s face as her brother moved away. ‘You look as if you’d like to stick a knife in his back!’

‘More than one!’ Alex caught herself up. ‘Sorry about that. He is your brother.’

‘You don’t need to apologise. He makes me just as mad at times. You do realise he was needling you on purpose?’

Alex looked at her sharply, then gave a rueful smile. ‘You mean he does let the women take part?’

‘If they show any real enthusiasm.’

‘I thought that was what I was doing.’

Margot hesitated. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you hardly look the type to enjoy roughing it.’

‘Never judge a book by its cover.’ Alex stood up purposefully. ‘I’ll just have to prove myself, won’t I?’

Cal had both horses already tacked-up when she reached the corral. Seated easily astride the grey, one hand on the rein, the other resting lightly along his thigh, he looked born to the saddle—the embodiment of all the cowboy heroes Alex had worshipped as a child. Not unlike them in essence either, she supposed: the all-male male in a male-dominated world. Fine enough in fiction, maybe, but downright insufferable in reality!

‘Glad to see you remembered the hat,’ he said. ‘Fit you okay?’

‘It’s a bit snug,’ she admitted. ‘Shall I be able to get one of my own this afternoon?’

‘Don’t see why not.’ He pulled his own hat further down over his eyes as he set the grey into motion with a flick of the rein. ‘Let’s get on the way.’

Regardless of the company, Alex found it impossible to feel anything but elated as they moved out under the wide blue Wyoming sky. It was all she had anticipated: the sun hot, the air clear, the scenery awesome in its beauty. What more could Greg want from life? she wondered. What more could anyone want? If she never saw a city street again she wouldn’t care!

There wasn’t much chance of that, of course. She might stretch this to a couple of weeks, but she had to go back some time. Whether she would take the job she had been offered she hadn’t yet decided. They had given her a month to think about it, and she had money put by, so the decision wasn’t pressing, although she could hardly afford to be choosy. Considering the kind of publicity she’d been given, she was lucky to have the opportunity at all.