by Janet Dailey
“What do you want from me?” Red flags of suspicion sprang up in Rose’s mind. This man had already stolen her land. How could she trust him now?
“Right now, I want you to fill your plate again and eat your breakfast while I talk. And no interrupting. Understand?”
“All right.” Rose was still cautious, but what did she have to lose by listening? Taking her time, she added more eggs and potatoes to her plate, along with a couple of sausages and another buttered biscuit with homemade jam. If Bull could wait, so could she. Besides, she really was hungry. And if things didn’t go well here, who could say when she’d have another chance to feast on Bernice’s cooking?
Bull finished his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Here’s what I’m thinking, Rose,” he said. “There are two reasons I’ve hung on to that parcel—two things I insist on keeping. First, I must have access to the creek water for Rimrock cattle. Second, I need an ironclad guarantee that no Prescott can ever get his filthy hands on that property. If I allow you to deal with Ferg Prescott, I could end up losing both. Whatever it takes, I can’t allow that to happen.”
His words ignited a spark of interest in Rose. But she willed herself to keep silent and focus on her breakfast. When it came to dealing with Bull, the less she appeared to care, the better.
But what if he was about to offer her a compromise—one that could solve everything? The thought quickened her pulse. But she swiftly dismissed the idea as too good to be true.
“I admit to knowing that your grandpa meant to leave you the land,” Bull said. “But if I hadn’t stepped in and taken it over when I did, the Prescotts would have found a way to steal it, and you’d have no hope of ever getting it back.”
So do I have any hope now? Rose’s pulse was racing. She willed her expression to freeze to a mask of indifference.
“I always meant for you to have that land, Rose,” he said.
Sure you did, liar. Come on, what’s the catch?
“Here’s what I’m proposing,” he said. “I would be willing to deed you back your grandfather’s land, but with conditions attached.”
He paused, his riveting blue eyes pinning Rose to her chair. “First, I want your written, signed promise that the Rimrock will never be denied access to the creek water, for any reason.”
Rose suppressed the urge to nod. So far, so good. She could live with letting Bull fill the water basin from the creek, as long as she didn’t have his livestock trampling her yard.
“The second condition is that if you ever decide to sell the property, you will sell it to me and only to me or my boys. Your heirs, if any, will be bound by the same conditions. If you pass away without heirs, the property will revert to the Rimrock.”
“Anything else?” Rose could hear her heart pounding over the sound of her voice. This agreement could give her all she wanted. It was almost too good to be true. But she’d be a fool not to think it over carefully.
“That’s the gist of it,” he said. “But each of those conditions is a deal-breaker. It’s all or nothing.”
“And if we can’t come to an agreement?” Rose asked.
“Then we’ll be no worse off than we are now.”
Rose laid her fork on her empty plate and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll need time to think about this, of course.”
“Take all the time you need,” Bull said. “But you’re not leaving this room until you give me an answer.”
The set of his jaw told Rose that Bull meant what he said. She decided not to test him by trying to walk out.
“All right.” She took her seat again, realizing there was no need to stall for time. The answer had already come to her. “I might be able to live with your conditions,” she said, “but I have one of my own.”
He looked surprised, as if she’d caught him off guard, not an easy thing to do when it came to crossing swords with Bull Tyler.
“I want a written, signed promise from you that I can develop and use my land any way I choose—build anything and raise anything. And you won’t interfere unless I ask for your help.”
“Fine, as long as it doesn’t compromise my access to the water.”
“And what about the neighbors? What if they want a say in what I do?”
“That goes without saying. Anybody who bothers you will have me to deal with.”
Rose stared at him over the remains of her breakfast, amazed at how easily they’d come to an agreement. Was it because she’d threatened to get help from the Prescotts? Or had Bull simply decided to do the right thing?
Only Bull knew the answer to that question, and Rose knew better than to ask him. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
“So, do we have a deal?” he asked.
“It appears . . . we do,” Rose said. “Now what?”
“Now we get in the truck and head for town to visit my lawyer and get the papers drawn up and signed. Then, after we file the new deed at the courthouse, what do you say to my buying you a Corona at the Blue Coyote? As I recall, you’re of age and then some.”
“I’d say thanks for the offer, but what I really want is to come home and get to work on my land.”
“Suit yourself.” Bull stood, reaching for his hat and the keys to his pickup. “I already told my lawyer to expect us. Come on. Let’s go to town before one of us gets cold feet.”
Rose followed him out the front door. Bull had planned this, she realized. He’d even spoken with his lawyer about it. And here she was, walking like an innocent lamb into a situation she barely understood. Was she doing the right thing? The smart thing?
But what choice did she have? She wanted her land and she needed protection. Maybe this was the best she could do.
As for trusting Bull—the man had lied to her, stolen her land, and left her stranded in Mexico. But he had also saved her life and absolved her of guilt in the shooting of Ham Prescott. So what now? Would he turn out to be her friend or just one more enemy plotting against her?
Only time would tell.
* * *
After the legal papers were signed and the new deed recorded, Bull drove Rose back to the land that was now hers and stopped next to her truck.
“So, what’s next for you?” he asked her.
She forced a grin, still half afraid to believe she wasn’t dreaming. “I’m going to unload the camper. Put up a fence. Start planning the cabin and laying out the garden. The sooner I can get seeds in the ground, the sooner I’ll have vegetables to eat. And I’m hoping, once I get a coop built, that you’ll sell me a few of those chickens.”
“They’re yours. Call it a housewarming gift. But blast it, Rose, you can’t live out here alone. At least not until you have a solid house. It isn’t safe. Come on back to the ranch and stay in the duplex while you work on your property. Jasper will be glad for the company. And the boys like having you around, too. They’ve both told me so.”
He was making sense, Rose knew. But impractical as it might seem, she wanted to be on her land—to wake up to birdsong and the whispering babble of the creek, to work the ground and fall asleep with the rich, dark earth still embedded under her fingernails. She wanted to touch everything with love and make it truly hers.
But if she tried to explain that to Bull, he would only argue with her, or worse, laugh. “I’ll think about it,” was all she said.
“Well then, all I can do is wish you luck,” Bull said. “But know that if you need help—and you’re bound to—you can come to me anytime. It’s to my advantage, as well as yours, for us to be good neighbors.”
The old suspicions were already rising to the surface. It wasn’t like Bull to be so generous. He always had an agenda, and this time would be no different.
Rose was about to climb out of the truck when she realized she wasn’t ready. She needed to ask some questions and get some honest answers.
Could she trust Bull to tell her the truth? She turned back in the seat to face him. “Why are you doing this after you told me no?” she demande
d. “What changed your mind? And what’s the bottom line—what’s in it for you?”
“You ask tough questions, lady.”
“I need tough answers, not pretty words.”
For the space of a long breath he was silent, emotions flickering like passing clouds across a face aged beyond its years. He hadn’t become a powerful rancher by being nice or playing by the rules, Rose reminded herself.
“Why did I change my mind? After thinking it all over, I realized that whether I liked it or not, you wouldn’t rest until the land was yours again. I could settle things peacefully, with the hope of our remaining friends, or I could let you declare war, call in the Prescotts and their legal dogs, and create a situation that could end in a literal bloodbath. At the very least, I could lose access to the creek. Does that make sense?”
“Are you saying I actually won? Come on, nobody beats Bull Tyler at his own game—not unless he lets them.”
Bull’s frown deepened. “Call it whatever you want. But this was never a contest, Rose. I never meant to deprive you of your land. I only wanted to keep it safe, not only for you but for the Rimrock. We can’t survive long, dry summers without that water. And there’s nothing Ferg would like better than to cut us off without a drop.
“As for what’s in it for me, I’m getting a buffer against the Prescotts, with an ally who’s determined to live on the land and protect it. I’m getting a guarantee of access to the creek and legal assurance that the property will never pass into Prescott hands. Is that good enough for you, Rose?”
Rose took a moment to weigh his words. She knew better than to trust Bull. He’d lied to her before, and would do so again if it served his purpose. But she’d seen what the Prescotts had done to her grandfather, and she knew that she could never hold out against them on her own. Taking on Bull as partner and protector would be the only way to keep herself, and her property, safe. For now, at least, she would have to accept that.
“Friends?” Bull extended his hand.
“Friends.” Rose accepted the handshake. Maybe this new arrangement would work out. Maybe time would test the friendship and prove it real and solid. But she had already learned that she could never take Bull for granted.
After opening the door of the pickup, she slid to the ground. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
“Don’t go taking chances out here alone, Rose,” Bull said. “If you need help, ask. And the duplex is yours for as long as you need a place to stay.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Turning away, Rose fished her keys out of her hip pocket and strode around her truck to unlock the camper. It was time to unload her tools and start making a home for herself.
* * *
Bull waited until Rose had vanished behind the camper before he gunned the engine and swung his truck toward home. The legal arrangements had taken much of the day. Now the late-afternoon sun was low in the sky. Clouds were drifting in above the escarpment, carrying the faint hope of spring rain.
He had done the right thing, he told himself. But only time would tell whether he’d done the smart thing. Rose was a small bundle of grit, determination, and courage. But she was also rash and impulsive, and she attracted trouble like a magnet attracts nails. He’d have to be crazy to just turn her loose on the land. She was going to need help getting safely settled—and plenty of supervision to keep her in line.
Rolling down the side window, Bull filled his lungs with the sage-scented air. Rose was bound to hate his interference. But that was too bad. Whether she liked it or not, he was still the one in charge. He was the boss, and even on her small parcel of land, that wasn’t about to change.
* * *
Tanner had stolen a few hours of sleep around midday, but even that was more time than he could spare. Now, as the sun sank low above the escarpment, he was driving one of the older pickups around the perimeter of the ranch, looking for any sign of the mysterious rustlers that were still spiriting away Ferg Prescott’s prime beef.
After Ferg’s attempt to frame his neighbor for the cattle theft, Tanner had almost thrown up his hands and left the ranch. But this time Ferg’s frustration over the lost animals seemed genuine. The numbers showed on the books, and the cowhands, all men with clean records, confirmed that some of the cattle—all prime, mature beef stock—were indeed missing.
So Tanner had put in a call to Clive, and they’d agreed that he should stay on. Still, Tanner couldn’t help questioning his own motives. How much did the need to protect Rose weigh on his decision?
He’d done his best to put her out of his mind as he drove the fence line. Earlier, he’d inspected every inch of the pasture where most of the stolen animals had been kept. Leading through the main gate, which was securely fastened with a combination padlock, were the faint tracks of a vehicle with heavy tires. Tanner had sketched the tread pattern in his notebook, but the tracks weren’t fresh, and the vehicle could just as easily have been delivering winter hay. There was no sign that the heavy padlock on the steel gate had been tampered with, no mended spots anywhere in the fence. The cattle had been taken either at a different time and place or by someone with the means to unlock the gate—which left Tanner exactly nowhere. He could only conclude that he was dealing with very clever thieves, most likely with inside knowledge of the ranch and the movement of the cattle.
He’d almost dismissed the idea that Rose could be in league with the rustlers. But what if he was wrong? Now that she knew he was a TSCRA ranger, she could easily warn her cohorts to avoid him, or even set traps to mislead him.
He wanted to believe she was innocent. But he’d be derelict in his duty as a ranger if he didn’t keep her under close surveillance.
Or was he just making excuses because he wanted to see her again?
Swearing under his breath, he paused to check one of the tanks that was fed by the lower part of the creek, downstream from the Rimrock property on the Prescott side. He could understand why Ferg Prescott wanted that land and why Bull Tyler was so determined to keep it. The thirty-acre parcel was the key to the water from the west, where it flowed from an artesian spring under the caprock. And now Rose was insisting that the land was hers. The whole situation smelled like trouble.
With the sun sinking low, and clouds thickening above the escarpment, Tanner headed upstream to the place where he’d last seen Rose that morning.
He was nearing the creek when a puzzling sound reached his ears—a series of metallic clanks, like heavy tools being flung about. Danger senses prickling, he dismounted and tethered the horse in the shelter of a willow thicket. Drawing his pistol, he stole forward on foot until he could see the clearing on the creek’s far side.
Rose stood alone in the doorway of the camper. She was dragging tools, ropes, a big canvas tarp, and other gear into the open and laying everything on the ground.
“Rose! What the devil are you up to?” Holstering his pistol, he strode across the creek.
A startled look flashed across her face. Then she recognized him and smiled. “Hey, Tanner, you’re just in time to help!”
“Help with what?” He reached her side and stomped the wetness off his boots.
“Help me unpack my gear. I’m trying to clear out enough space in the camper to make it livable—and organize everything out here so I can start work in the morning.”
“Start work on what? Are you out of your mind?”
“No!” The grin that lit her face was pure radiance. “I’m going to build a cabin, and a garden, and a chicken coop. This is my land! Bull signed it back to me today!”
According to what he’d already heard, Rose’s news didn’t make sense. But Tanner knew better than to imply that it wasn’t true.
“Don’t just stand there with your mouth open!” she said, half-laughing. “Help me get these things out of the camper and covered with the tarp before it starts to rain!”
Tanner glanced at the sky. In the west, the setting sun glowed like a faded ember through the black clou
ds that were spilling across the sky. Sheet lightning flickered above the horizon.
Ducking into the camper, he picked up a heavy block and tackle and carried it outside. “Where did you get all this stuff?” he asked.
“I brought it from Mexico. Figured I was going to need it here.” Rose’s laughter echoed the joy that lit her face. It was the first time Tanner had seen her truly happy. She was more than beautiful, he thought. She was magnificent.
She was a woman he could almost love—if he were capable and worthy of loving.
“Are you going to sleep here, in this ratty old camper?”
“That’s the idea. This is my land, and I mean to live on it.”
“But you don’t even have a bathroom here, Rose. Don’t you have anywhere else to go?”
“I have an open invitation to stay in a duplex on the Rimrock. But this camper is my home now—until I can build something better.”
Tanner dragged what looked like a tow chain out onto the ground, leaving the camper emptied of gear. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re out of your mind, Rose Landro.”
“And for what it’s worth, I don’t give a hang what you think. Here, grab that tarp and help me anchor down the corners. A few of those rocks should do the job.”
By the time they’d dragged the canvas tarpaulin over the tools, the rain had begun to fall. Tanner had just dropped the last heavy rock in place when lightning forked across the sky, splitting the heavens with a deafening boom. Rain poured down, soaking them both to the skin.
“Come on!” Rose grabbed his arm and dragged him behind her through the back door of the camper. Out of breath, they sank onto the narrow bench that ran along one side. The camper was dark inside and warm from the afternoon sun. Rain beat a heavy tattoo on the shell and streamed down the windows.
The rain won’t last long, Tanner told himself. But as the seconds passed he felt a growing awareness of the tantalizing woman beside him. He was a man with a man’s built-in responses. Something told him he was already headed for trouble.
CHAPTER TEN
SITTING A HAND’S BREADTH APART, THEY HUDDLED ON THE BENCH in the camper, with the rain drumming outside. Rose was shivering in her damp clothes. Tanner ached to touch her wet hair, to curl it around his fingers as he cupped the back of her head and brought her close enough to brush her lips with his. He yearned to taste her, to warm her as a woman needed to be warmed. But knowing Rose as he did, he knew better than to try.
