"Miss Brannt!"

She and Darby turned at the cold and belligerent address.

"Yes, sir, boss?" she asked.

His eyes were as cold as his face was hard. "Come to the bunkhouse, please." He turned and walked out.

"The bunkhouse?" she wondered aloud. She went out with Darby and noticed that Bates was smothering a grin.

Darby went with her. He knew the boss's moods. That look was dangerous. He'd seen it be fore, when the cook, Vanessa, had been fired. He had a bad feeling and he looked at Morie with concern.

They walked into the bunkhouse. Mallory was there, with Ms. Bruner and Cane and Tank. None of them were smiling.

"Open your rucksack, please," Mallory asked curtly.

She lifted both eyebrows. "Sure. But why?" she asked as she retrieved it from her room and handed it to the boss.

"Open it, please," he repeated.

She shrugged, put it down on the table near the door and opened it. She pulled out clothing, books and...

Her expression was genuinely shocked. That was a replica of one of the famous Romanov Easter eggs that had originally been made for the czar of Russia and his wife. It was made of pure gold, which was going for over a thousand dollars a gram at current market prices, and studded with diamonds and sapphires, rubies and emeralds. It was worth a king's ransom. She held it in her hand and gaped at it. She'd last seen it in the Kirks' living room in a locked case. How...?

She turned and looked at them. Ms. Bruner wasn't smiling, but there was a look on her face that made Morie want to put her out a window.

"This egg was left to us by our grandmother, who was given it as a Christmas gift from her husband decades ago," Mallory said with ice dripping from every syllable. "It's utterly priceless."

"At current gold prices, the gold alone would buy a Jaguar," she murmured, shocked.

"Interesting, that a poor working cowgirl would know that," Mallory replied.

She handed the egg to Mallory. Her eyes were full of abused pride. "You think that I would steal from you?" she asked quietly, and searched his face.

"The evidence pretty much speaks for itself," Mallory told her.

She looked from his angry face to Cane's shocked one and Tank's bland one. Darby lifted his chin.

"She's no thief," Darby said shortly. "I may not be the world's best judge of character, but I'd bet my retirement on this girl's honesty. Saw her run down a cowboy who dropped a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and didn't notice. Not the act of a thief," he added.

"This was missing out of the case." Mallory indicated the egg.

"How did she get the key?" Tank asked aloud.

"Mine is missing," Mallory said coldly. His eyes narrowed on Morie.

She just stared at him, with her heart breaking in her chest. She was damned without a trial. Everybody was looking at her with varying degrees of suspicion. She knew she'd been set up and she knew who did it-that Bruner woman, with some help, she would have bet, from that grinning cowboy in the barn who'd gone riding with her. Bates.

But it would do no good to condemn him on a stray thought. Nothing she said was going to convince Mallory that she'd been set up. She could see that in his face. It twisted her heart. If he'd cared for her at all, he'd never have believed her capable of this.

She stared at him with resignation. "I suppose you want to call the sheriff now," she said, and thought how she was going to explain this to her parents. Her father would be outraged. He'd come after Mallory with his team of family attorneys and it would be a major assault on the man's reputation and wealth. Her father was vindictive. Especially where his children were concerned. Mallory Kirk had no idea what a hornet's nest he was stirring up, nor did that Bruner woman, whose entire past would be laid out to public view when her dad got through.

"No," Mallory said, averting his eyes. "I won't do that. But you're resigning as of right now. I want you off my land in one hour. No more. And Darby will watch you pack, to make sure nothing else goes mysteriously missing."

Morie lifted her chin. Spanish royalty from three generations ago showed itself in her comportment and arrogance. "I have never stolen anything in my life," she said with quiet pride. "And you will regret this. I promise you."

"Threats!" Gelly scoffed. "The last resort of a thief caught red-handed!"

"You remember it," Morie told her evenly. "You're wearing last year's clothes, probably bought from a consignment shop, and trying to insinuate yourself into the boss's life," she said flatly, shocking everybody, especially Gelly. "You're a fraud, too, lady. I don't know what your game is, but sooner or later, you'll betray yourself."

Gelly moved closer to Mallory. There was something oddly dangerous in the other woman's delicate features. Something Gelly recognized, because she'd seen it before.

"How would you know anything about fashion?" Mallory asked coldly, indicating Morie's stained and torn jeans and old sweatshirt and disheveled condition.

"You might be surprised at what I know, and where I learned it," she told him. Her black eyes were snapping like fireworks under her long, black eyelashes. "One day you'll know the truth about me, too. And you'll regret to your dying day that you ever accused me of a crime."

"Criminals always say such things," Gelly chided.

Morie smiled coldly. "You'd know."

"How dare you!" Gelly stepped forward with her hand raised.

"Lawsuits will ensue if you hit me," Morie told her. "I promise."

Mallory caught the woman's arm and pulled her back. "Let's get this over without complications," he told her. He was feeling really sick at what he'd charged Morie with. He hadn't even let her speak.

"If you have a defense, let's hear it," he added, his eyes on hers.

Morie just laughed. "Sure. I've been set up and she-" she indicated Gelly "-knows it. But nobody is going to believe me. I'm just the new hire."

She put her things into the rucksack and gathered up her small television and iPod and coat. "This is all I brought with me. May I ask someone to drive me to the bus station in town, or would you like me to walk there?" she added icily.

Mallory felt even worse when he saw how little she had. Maybe she'd been desperate for money. But if she had, why not come to him and ask for help? His face hardened. He'd made that impossible, with his own antagonism.

"I'll drive you, honey," Cane said gently. "Let's go."

"I can drive her," Tank protested.

Neither of them believed her guilty, and it was obvious.

"Thanks," Morie told them sincerely. "I'll remember you both kindly, years from now."

Mallory was fuming. He hated being put in this position. And he really hated having his own brothers make him look like the villain.

"Darby, could you drive me to town, please?" she asked the older man. "If the boss doesn't mind."

"Drive her," Mallory said curtly. He glared at his brothers. "In case you didn't notice, she had Grandmother's jeweled egg in her rucksack!"

Both brothers looked at Gelly with veiled hostility.