by Janet Dailey
First Edie realized that she hadn't combed her hair since coming into the house from exercising and caring for the horses. The soft, curling length of her golden brown hair was undoubtedly windblown and tousled. His inspection of her face made her conscious that she wore no makeup; even her lipstick had worn off at the supper table. It took every ounce of willpower not to moisten her lips when he studied their contours.
His silent appraisal continued its downward progress, reminding her of the boy's flannel shirt she wore, a size too small. In consequence the plaid material was stretched tautly across the rounded fullness of her breasts, the buttoned front gaping slightly. It wasn't a stripping look. A man like this knew what was underneath without needing to mentally disrobe a woman to get his kicks. Edie didn't know how she knew that, but she did. Yet it didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable.
Then his gaze was skimming her faded denims, hugging tightly to her slim hips and shapely thighs before running stovepipe straight to her boots. He even took note of the scuffed and weathered leather of her boots, permanently stained with mud and manure.
When his metallic smooth gaze returned to her face, the tour of inspection hadn't taken more than twenty seconds, but it had seemed an eternity of irritating discomfort to Edie. The words burned on the tip of her tongue to inform him that she hadn't been expecting visitors-and he should have expected to find her still in work clothes from doing ranch chores. Edie held them back because she wasn't about to defend the way she dressed in her own home—not to a complete stranger.
"You are the widow Gibbs?" The inflection in the husky timbre of his voice smoothly demanded verification.
It had been an exasperating day. Irritation again raced through nerve ends that had only begun to recover. His implication that she didn't fit the image of a middle-aged widow set her teeth on edge. Admittedly she was on the wrong side of thirty, but it didn't mean she had to be dumpy and plain or clad in black with smelling salts at hand.
"Yes, I am." The faint note of belligerence in her answer didn't appear to register in his expression. She lifted her chin to an angle of controlled challenge as her smile lost its warmth. "You have the advantage. You know who I am, but I don't know who you are."
"Will Maddock." He didn't extend his hand in greeting. "I own the Diamond D Ranch."
Edie guessed she was supposed to be impressed, but since she had never heard of it—or him—she simply filed the information away in her mind.
"The Diamond D?" Jerry spoke up. He had been standing to one side. "I saw that brand on some cattle on my way into town this noon. They were in a pasture next to our property."
At the sound of Jerry's voice, Will Maddock had turned his head to subject her stepson to his appraisal. He measured Jerry with a practiced eye, noting his lanky but solidly muscled frame and the shadow of a man's beard on his cheek, not the peach fuzz of a boy.
"You own the land next to ours?" Jerry questioned.
"Yes." It was a simple, straightforward answer.
"Then you are our neighbor," Edie realized. The iron-hard gaze swung lazily back to her. "Yes."
She stifled the resentment that she had begun to form against him. Will Maddock was obviously calling to welcome them to the area, a gesture of polite friendliness that shouldn't be flapped away simply because she had had a bad day and was therefore quicker to take exception. Possibly Will Maddock was the same neighbor who had rounded up and sold Anson Carver's livestock when he was laid up. He struck her as the kind of man whom you would want on your side if you were in trouble. She definitely wouldn't want him as an enemy.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Maddock." She extended her hand in belated greeting.
He glanced at it hesitated then accepted the gesture. When his work-roughened hand closed around hers, Edie experienced a tremor of surprise. She had always thought Joe's hands were large, but her hand looked like a child's against Will Maddock's. It was such a strong, capable hand, it didn't need to assert its strength by crushing her fingers. There was the firm warmth of its clasp, then her hand was released. A little overwhelmed by the discovery, Edie didn't notice that Will Maddock hadn't returned her phrase, nor one like it.
Instead she turned to introduce Jerry and caught sight of Alison, who had slipped unnoticed into the room, "This is my stepson, Jerry Gibbs, and my daughter, Alison. Mr. Will Maddock."
Jerry stepped forward to shake hands with him, but Alison simply smiled and nodded from across the room. It was part of her natural reserve when meeting strangers, but not caused by shyness.
Remembering her manners, Edie invited, "Won't you sit down, Mr. Maddock? Let me take your coat."
He accepted the invitation to have a seat but refused the second suggestion. "No, I won't be staying long."
He did unbutton the leather jacket to let it swing open before sitting in the armchair that had always been Joe's favorite. But Edie never remembered Joe ever filling it the way this man did. In fact, it took on the appearance of a throne. Again there was that little flicker of resentment that Edie had to suppress.
"We had just finished supper and were about to have some coffee when you arrived." She told the white lie out of a sense of courtesy. "Would you like a cup?"
"No." His iron-flat gaze made a pointed glance toward Jerry and Alison. "I would like to speak to you in private, if I may."
The skin along the back of her neck prickled, irritated by the polite phrasing that didn't disguise his order for them to leave. His whole attitude left Edie with the feeling that he belonged here and she didn't, that his orders were to be obeyed as a matter of course.
"Speak to me in regards to what, Mr. Maddock?" she challenged, and sat down on the flowered sofa, leaning against the cushions to indicate that she was the one in her own home.
"This ranch."
"This is a family holding, Mr. Maddock," Edie informed him. "Alison and Jerry are directly involved in all phases of it. There is no need for them to leave. In fact, since it's the ranch you want to talk about, they definitely should stay."
Briefly she wondered what he wanted to talk about. There had been no mention of a boundary dispute. Perhaps he had a complaint to make.
"A few weeks ago I made you an offer for this ranch," he began.
"You made the offer?" she repeated. "We did receive an offer on the property, but we didn't bother to inquire who made it since we weren't interested in selling it."
"I was told by the real-estate agent that you had turned it down, even though it meant a quick and handsome profit," Maddock admitted. "I'm here to raise my offer by fifty dollars an acre."
Edie raised an eyebrow in surprise, then glanced at Jerry and Alison who were expressing a similar reaction of astonishment. "You are very generous, Mr. Maddock, but we aren't interested in selling it."
Impatience hardened his features. "Let's not waste time, Mrs. Gibbs. Simply tell me how much you want."
If there had been any temptation to consider his offer before, it was gone now. "I told you, we aren't interested in selling."
"Everyone has a price," he replied bluntly. "You can use the money to buy a ranch somewhere else—one that isn't as run-down as this one."
"Considering its condition, you seem to want the ranch very badly," she murmured.
"It joins my land," he stated as if that was sufficient reason.
"Do you plan to own every ranch that joins your land, Mr. Maddock? That would seem to be a never-ending goal," she taunted.
His hard gray eyes turned to cold steel. "It took years of neglect and abuse to let this place get in its present condition. I don't intend to stand idly by and let it go from bad to worse while a trio of greenhorns amuse themselves by playing cowboy."
Incensed by his swift condemnation of them without giving them even the smallest chance to prove they might be capable of running a ranch, Edie rose from the sofa. When Will Maddock stood up to face her, she felt like a banty hen tackling a silver-tipped grizzly.
"I suggest, Mr. Mad
dock, that you don't know us. You haven't even bothered to inquire what our qualifications or experience might be, although it isn't any of your business." She was controlling her temper with an effort, speaking sharply and concisely.
"I know how much work it's going to take to whip this place into shape again."
"We aren't allergic to work. In fact, we have been on a very intimate basis with it all our lives," Edie stated as Jerry and Alison moved over to stand beside her, uniting again.
"There is a lot of back-breaking labor involved, long hours of hard, physical labor. I have no doubt the boy will do his share, or try. But two females?" His gaze flicked over them in obvious contempt for their contribution.
"You are underestimating us," Edie insisted tightly.
His arm moved. Before she could guess his intention, her hand was trapped in his paw. He twisted it upward in front of her face.
"Take a good look at your hands, Mrs. Gibbs, because a month from now you won't recognize them," he told her. "Your fingernails will all be chipped and short. There will be calluses on those smooth palms. Your hands will be as rough as sandpaper. You'll be too exhausted to eat and too tired to sleep. And that's just the beginning!"
"We aren't made of glass." She strained against his grip, but didn't struggle to free herself.
"You'll break." There was a hard sureness in his voice as he released her hand. A numbness tingled through it as circulation was restored.
"Don't be too sure, Mr. Maddock," Edie replied, and refrained from rubbing her hand, not wanting to show any weakness in front of him.
It was a cruel smile that slanted his mouth. "I'm sure of one thing, Mrs. Gibbs—one way or another you are going to sell to me before the year is out."
"That sounds like a threat." She tipped her head back to challenge the man towering in front of her.
"I don't waste time with threats. You aren't hurting anyone but yourself by being stubborn, Mrs. Gibbs." He put his hat on and pulled it low on his forehead. "Let me know what you want for the ranch when you're ready to sell."
He started toward the door. After a second Edie followed him. "It's a pity that you didn't buy the place from Mr. Carver since you want it so much."
Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he gave her a sidelong look that was shadowed by the brim of his hat. "I was out of the States when he put it on the market, otherwise you wouldn't be here."
He left without a good-evening—just as he had come without a hello. At the sound of an engine starting up, Edie's knees began shaking. She hadn't realized how emotionally tense she had been. It was like shock setting in after the danger had passed.
"I'd sell this ranch to the devil before I'd sell it to him!" Alison declared.
"We aren't selling." Edie whirled to correct that thought. "Not to him. Not to anyone."
"That's who Anson Carver was talking about," Jerry mused, staring thoughtfully in the direction of the car.
"When?" Edie demanded.
"When he said the 'he-bull' wasn't going to get what he wanted," he answered with a faint smile deepening the corners of his mouth. "I'll bet you Maddock tried to buy this place from Carver half a dozen times and Carver wouldn't sell."
"Why wouldn't he sell?" Alison frowned. "Obviously that man Maddock would have paid more money for the ranch. Look what he's offered us!"
"I don't know. Carver mentioned a couple of things," Jerry remembered, "He didn't want the ranch gobbled up in a bigger one, which Maddock's obviously is. And he was glad we were going to be living in this house. Maddock would probably have torn it down or abandoned it."
"You could be right," Edie murmured. The old man had been a cantankerous, stubborn man. She doubted that he had sold the ranch because he needed the money, so his decision to sell to them might not have been dictated by price.
"This house is a dump and an eyesore. I don't blame Maddock if he wanted to tear it down. I wish we could," Alison muttered.
"In time we can fix it up," Edie sighed, because she couldn't agree with her daughter more. "But we have a lot more important things to do first. As Maddock would be quick to remind us if he was here," she finished on a bitter note.
"You've had a rough day, Edie. Why don't you go take a shower and relax?" Jerry suggested.
"What about me?" Alison protested. "This Cinderella hasn't exactly been idle!"
"Turn the radio on and prop your feet up. I'll do the dishes," Jerry volunteered. "According to Maddock, our hands are going to look alike anyway, so I'll give yours a break tonight."
His remark teased an unwilling laugh from Edie and Alison, letting some of their normal good humor return. It helped dispel the doubts Maddock's gloomy predictions had cast.
"Nothing is very bad if we can laugh at it," Alison stated, and they agreed with her.
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Chapter Four
THE NEXT MORNING they were up with the sun. After packing some sandwiches for lunch and a thermos of coffee, the three saddled up their horses and rode out to inspect the property and its boundaries.
The tour around the perimeter of their ranch took the biggest share of the day. They made two discoveries, one of which Edie had already suspected. There wasn't a section of fence line that didn't need to be repaired or replaced.
It was the second discovery that came as a surprise. Their ranch was bounded on three sides by Diamond D land. Maddock's ranch practically surrounded theirs. There was a stark contrast between his neat, precise fence rows running at right angles to the drooping and tumbledown excuse of their fences. Their meadows abounded with thistles while his were thick with nutritious grasses.
None of them mentioned the obvious differences nor acknowledged that Maddock had cause to regard the ranch as a plague on his own. Neither did they admit that there was more work to be done than they had imagined.
That night it was decided that Jerry would go into town the next morning and order the barbed wire and new fence posts while Edie and Alison explored the interior of the ranch property. They needed to learn where the best grazing lands and their water sources were.
No matter how much riding Edie had done in the past, none of it had prepared her bones and muscles for an entire day and part or a second in the saddle. By midday she was so stiff and sore she wanted to cry. There was small consolation in knowing that Alison was suffering, too.
These Dakota hills bore no resemblance to the Illinois landscape where they had ridden before. Here there were deep ravines to be descended and climbed, the horses plunging and rearing to claw their way up, rocky slopes to be negotiated, the horses' iron shoes slipping and stumbling over stones and clear, cold streams to be crossed, the horses splashing the icy water onto their legs. Seldom was there time to admire the view. Daydreaming was usually punished by a low-hanging limb that the unwary rider didn't see in time to duck.
One such branch tried to decapitate Edie. "Damn!" she swore under her breath as her hat was knocked off.
"Are you playing at cowboy?" Alison teased and leaned way over to pickup the hat without dismounting from the black mare.
"If you want me to laugh, use words other than Maddock's," Edie retorted with a weary grin.
"I'll remember that," Alison laughed, and returned her mother's hat. They had ridden almost to the crest of a ridge. Alison reined her mare in a half circle to traverse the last few yards. "Mom, look!" She pointed toward the valley below. "There's cattle down there. Do you see them?"
When they rode down to investigate they discovered a dozen head of Hereford cattle grazing in the tall grass of a meadow. The Diamond D brand was burned on their rusty red hips.
"What do you suppose they're doing here?" Alison asked.
"Eating our grass," Edie retorted and sighed. "They probably wandered through a break in the fence. We'd better drive them back."
"Our first cattle drive…and it's somebody else's cattle." Alison sent her a laughing glance. "Too bad Jerry isn't here. We could outnumber them."
Herding the cattle back to the boundary fence was a welcome change of pace. After an initial reluctance to leave the lush grass of the meadow, the cattle allowed themselves to be driven back to their home range. There were so many breaks in the fence Edie couldn't guess which one they had come through, so it didn't matter which one they went back through. On the other side they urged the cattle into a trot to chase them away from the fence, then turned and rode back toward the fence.
"Oh, oh," Alison murmured. "It looks like we are about to be caught trespassing."
Edie looked beyond her daughter to see two riders approaching them. Will Maddock was one of them. No one could fail to recognize that muscular frame mounted on a rangy mouse-gray buckskin. The second rider was a girl, a wand-slim rider on a spirited sorrel with a blaze and four white stockings. Edie refused to hurry her bay gelding to reach their own land before Maddock intercepted them. They had a perfectly legitimate reason for trespassing on his property. A few yards short of the fence the four riders reined their horses in to meet.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Maddock," Edie greeted him coolly.
He acknowledged the greeting with a faint nod, but didn't respond in a similar vein. There was nothing in his steady regard to make her so aware of her unflattering masculine clothes. Edie decided the sensation was aroused because he was so damned male that she was automatically conscious of her own sex.
Her gaze broke away from his to study the girl on the prancing, restless sorrel. She looked to be the same age as Alison, but considerably more self-possessed. Hatless, she had a thick mane of brunette hair, long and curling, and her eyes were an arrogant blue.
"This is my daughter, Felicia. Mrs. Gibbs and her daughter, Alison." Will Maddock made the introduction.
"Hello, Felicia." Edie acknowledged the introduction and Alison echoed it. Like her father, Felicia Maddock simply nodded in response. Edie doubted if she was wrong to suspect that his daughter was a spoiled snob.
"Some of your cattle strayed onto our property. We herded them back," Edie explained.
