"They just started within the last year," Tom said. "I won't know until roundup, but I think we've lost cattle."

"Me, too," Royal said.

Chet turned back to Royal, careful to keep his expression neutral. "If your men can't protect your own herds, how're they going to protect Miss Jordan's?"

Royal flinched, as if he'd started to draw his gun and thought better of it. Chet decided no one had tweaked Royal's nose in so long, he thought he could do or say just about anything he pleased. It was about time somebody told him otherwise.

"I would hire a dozen extra men if necessary," Royal said, making a visible attempt to rein in his temper.

"You'll be pleased to know you needn't go to so much expense," Chet said. "Miss Royal has just offered me a job. Seeing as how I'm right handy with a gun, she won't be needing your dozen extra men."

h.e.l.l, why had he gone and said that? He had already made up his mind to ride out the minute he could get his leg across a fresh horse. He'd let a pair of brown eyes and a fearful glance egg him into throwing down a challenge to this loudmouth. Now he couldn't leave until he was sure Royal wouldn't take his anger out on Melody or her crew.

"We don't want your kind in Concho County," Royal said. "You drifted in. You can drift right out again."

Chet had had trouble with his temper all his life. The one thing that made him madder than anything else was some big rancher thinking his money and the number of men he had working for him ent.i.tled him to push other people around. It just naturally overpowered his good sense.

"I couldn't go, not after Miss Jordan has practically begged me to take her job." He smiled inwardly at the look she darted in his direction. He bet Melody Jordan had never begged anybody to do anything in her life.

"I didn't beg you," Tom Neland said, "and I don't want you here."

"It's a shame what you want doesn't count much," Chet said, again speaking softly. "I'm foreman around here."

"Which means you take your orders from Miss Jordan."

"I . . . Miss Jordan leaves the running of the ranch to me."

Just as he'd thought. Tom Neland didn't want anybody telling him what to do, especially a woman. Chet suspected they'd already had a few run-ins on that score.

"Are you trying to run me off before she can look at my wound?" Chet asked Tom.

"n.o.body's trying to run you off," Melody said. "And I did offer you a job, so it's yours if you still want it. Now if you'll excuse me, Lantz, I need to tend to Mr. Attmore's neck. Thanks for coming by. Good day."

"Melody, there's no need for you to take care of every tramp who wanders onto your place," Royal said. "Let Bernice see to him. I wanted to talk to you about"

"Did you hear Miss Jordan?" Chet asked.

"Huh?" Royal stared at Chet as though he'd forgotten he was there.

"She told you good day. That means you're to leave."

"Now look here"

"Forget your manners again? You'd better buy yourself a book. That way you can brush up on them before you come over here again."

"Come on," Melody said to Chet. "I want to get something on that wound before it becomes infected."

"Who the h.e.l.l is that man?" Chet heard Royal ask Tom.

"I don't know," Tom replied. "Seems he stopped here wanting to swap for a run-down horse."

"Well, get rid of him. I don't want to see him when I come back. If I do, I'm not going to be responsible for what I do."

Chapter Three.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Melody asked as they walked toward the house.

Chet was feeling annoyed with himself now that his temper had begun to cool. Once again he'd let anger force him into something he'd already decided not to do. But he'd learned long ago that he couldn't do much except ride it out and patch things up when it was over. He'd inherited his temper from his mother. He couldn't remember her when she wasn't screaming at someone. His father was just the opposite; he never seemed to care about anything.

"Why would you think that?" Chet asked.

"You deliberately tried to provoke Lantz Royal."

"He made me angry."

"Do you always provoke people who make you angry?" "Usually."

"I thought you said you had been a foreman. How did you get your men to work together?"

"It caused some problems."

"I expect it did."

"None I couldn't handle."

"Other people may have stayed out of your way, but Lantz won't. He's the most important rancher in this area."

"He certainly thinks so."

Melody looked askance. "He has more cows, more land, and more cowhands than anybody else."

"And more arrogance and more certainty that he ought to have anything he wants. You meaning to let him have you?"

She turned on him. "That's none of your business."

"I didn't say it was." She started toward the house. "You going to answer my question?"

She stopped and turned again, irritation showing in the set of her mouth. "If you know as much about manners as you pretend, you know it's rude to ask such a question."

"My manners don't count. His do if you plan to marry him. I was just trying to shape him up a little for you."

"You were not. You were trying to provoke him. Why?"

"I don't like men who go for a gun for no reason."

"In Virginia, telling a man he's no gentleman is one of the surest ways to start a fight."

"I guess that makes him more of a gentleman than I thought." "You're just playing with me," she said, irritably, "like you did with Lantz."

"I don't like Lantz."

She stopped abruptly and directed a questioning look at him. "And you like me?"

"Sure."

"Why? You know nothing about me."

"You're prettier. Besides, you offered me a bed and a bandage."

She studied him for a moment. "I don't understand you. You dress like a drifter, yet you're connected to two of the biggest ranchers in Texas. You seem to know how to act like a gentleman, yet you admit to being a gunslick."

Chet laughed. "I bet you didn't learn that word in Virginia."

"Don't try to sidetrack me. I thought you were going to go, but you tell Lantz you've hired on. You act like nothing in the world matters to you, yet you defended my honor like an old-fashioned cavalier."

"You can blame that on my adopted mother. She brought Savannah etiquette to Texas, whether we wanted it or not."

"I doubt she taught you to insult rich and powerful men with no regard for the consequences. I'm trying very hard to convince myself you're not crazy."

"If you're not going to look at my neck, I think I'll wash it in the trough."

"And poison the horses!"

Chet grinned. "I bet you created a stir in Richmond society." He felt a momentary qualm when he noticed a slight tinge of color in her cheeks.

"I speak my mind, if that's what you mean. As you no doubt know, men aren't very fond of that." "Especially those with limited minds."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Especially those. Now let's go inside before Lantz and Tom come to see what we're talking about."

"We could tell them you're trying to decide if I've been out in the sun too long."

"I expect they've already reached that conclusion themselves."

Neill came tumbling out of the house just as they reached the kitchen.

"Wait until Tom sees this!" he said, holding the tin can with the peach wrapper aloft.

"I'd rather you didn't show that to him," Chet said.

"It's too late now," Melody said when Neill didn't slow down. "If you're determined to show off, people are going to talk about it."

"That's what Isabelle said."

"Who's Isabelle?"

"My adopted mother."

"The one from Savannah?"

"Yes."

"But she married a Texan."

"Isabelle has wonderful manners, but underneath she's just as ruthless as Jake. She'd make mincemeat of Lantz Royal."

"I'd like to meet her," Melody said as she opened the kitchen door and stepped inside.

Those innocent words spiraled into a chain of thoughts Chet wouldn't allow his mind to follow.

"You'd like her, but she's a bit bossy, just like you're going to be once you get a handle on this place," he said as he started to follow her through the doorway.

Melody slammed the door in his face. He grinned. The lady had a temper. He pushed the door open and peeped in to see if she was going to throw something when he entered.

"I am not bossy," she said when their gazes met. "And what makes you think I have any desire to get a handle on this place? I might decide to sell my half of the ranch and go back to Richmond."

He came in and closed the door behind him.

"It won't sell so good with the doors off the hinges," remarked a woman up to her elbows in flour. "You the fella Sydney shot?" she asked Chet.

"Yes, ma'am."

Her hands stilled in the dough as she looked him up and down. "Maybe we'd better send him out hunting more often. He never brought down anything half as good-looking as you.

"Bernice, how can you say such a thing?" Melody exclaimed.

"Because I've got eyes in my head," Bernice said. "And if you don't think he's better looking than anybody you've clapped eyes onhere or in your precious Richmondthen I say you're telling a lie. Look at him, honey. There's a smoldering look in those eyes that could light a fire in the dark and musty corners of any woman's heart."

"That's not the point," Melody said, the color rising in her cheeks again.

"Then what is?"

"This blood on my neck," Chet pointed out, winking at Bernice.

"Do clean him up," Bernice said. "I hate to see such a pretty man all b.l.o.o.d.y."

Melody pulled out a chair and motioned Chet to sit down. With something short of the best will in the world, she filled a bowl with water and prepared to wash his neck. "You don't like it when people tell me I'm nice looking?" He didn't flinch when she touched the wound.

"I imagine you've been told that far too often."

"Have you been told too often that you're beautiful?"

Bernice burst out laughing. "He's got you there."