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  “Yes, sir. They heard that the Lazy S is paying more. And they say you’ve let things go. The cabins need repair, and—”

  “You tell them if they don’t like it, they can go elsewhere.”

  After a pause, Alex said, “Mr. Porter, they’re serious. Some of the ranches are paying forty a month now. The men would like that, if they can’t have their herds. It would mean a lot to them if—”

  “No! I told you I can’t do any better. Get out of here. And tomorrow night I want to hear that you’ve got a thousand head in the pasture.”

  “Please—”

  “Go.”

  Maggie jumped back, but she was too late. The door swung open and Alex stalked out, his jaw tight.

  He saw her almost at once and his steps faltered.

  “Maggie.”

  “Hello, Alex.” She tried to smile, but that was a lost cause.

  They stood for a long moment looking at each other. Maggie couldn’t break the stare. He looked so mature and handsome and … sad. The urge to apologize welled up inside her, but she knew it wasn’t her place until she knew more about the situation.

  The meeting had gone askew from the way she’d planned it, and she was at a disadvantage. He knew she’d heard part of his conversation with her father—how could he not, when she stood here so flustered?

  “Welcome home.” His voice was flat. He stormed out the front door and was outside before she could catch her breath.

  Maggie gazed after Alex, hovering in indecision. If her father didn’t hire such handsome cowboys, her life would be a lot easier.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alex caught Red’s reins and was about to mount when the ranch house door opened and Maggie flew out. The rosy glow of the sunset washed over her, and she looked finer than the palomino filly he was training for Mr. Porter.

  She must have come home yesterday or today. He was sure he’d have heard about it if she’d arrived before they set out for the roundup. The two years had been kind to her. She walked straighter and more confidently, and she met his gaze directly, without the giggles and blushes she used to try to hide. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face. She’d always been pretty, but now she was knock-you-breathless beautiful. She wore a tailored gray dress with dark red trim—a grownup woman’s dress with pleats, and a bodice so well fitted that no one would mistake her for a kid anymore. He looked away and busied himself with the reins.

  “Alex—”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear—oh, that’s not true. I did mean to. But only so I’d know when it was safe to interrupt.”

  He considered mounting and riding off right then. His head whirled with what Porter had said, and he knew he’d have a hard time keeping the men calm when they heard it.

  But Maggie was a distraction he couldn’t ignore. He wouldn’t dare imagine she had taken a personal interest in him. When he’d come to the ranch, she was thirteen, and she’d only cared about him if he could bring her a horse to ride. True, he’d seen some signs of a crush later, but he’d ignored that and made a point of treating her the same way he always had. And if his own common sense wasn’t enough, the old foreman, Jack Hubble, had dropped a warning in his ear—don’t mess with the boss’s daughter.

  Alex respected Jack, and he’d learned a lot from him. Maybe that was why Mr. Porter had chosen him as foreman when Jack retired—Alex listened. But now that trait was putting him in a difficult spot. He listened to the men, but he had to listen to the boss, too. And he couldn’t see a way to reconcile the things he was hearing. Obviously, something had gone wrong with the Rocking P’s boss. Financial setbacks? That would explain some things, but not all.

  “What’s up?” he asked Maggie, trying to smile in spite of the way his stomach churned.

  “Just thought I’d catch up with you. Last time I was home, Jack was still foreman. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Alex turned toward Red and stuck his fingers under the saddle girth. Loose, as he’d expected. He worked the cinch knot loose and tightened the strap. He’d barely seen Maggie the last time she was home—for her mother’s funeral last fall. He’d been busy with ranch work and getting ready to take over from Jack. He’d attended the funeral with the other men, but besides that he’d only seen Maggie a couple of times, from a distance. She’d been preoccupied with her grief and the constant company that came to the ranch.

  “How are things going?” Maggie asked.

  “Fine.”

  “So … the roundup’s going well.”

  Alex hesitated only a second. “We just started, but yeah, it’s going great.”

  Maggie’s troubled expression told him she didn’t believe that. She took a step closer, and Alex tensed. What did she really want?

  “Alex, we’re old friends. I hope you’ll be honest with me.”

  “What about?”

  “For starters, my father looks very tired. Has he been overdoing?”

  He swung around and stared at her. If anything, Mr. Porter had slacked off. In the past, he’d been right out there with the men, riding fence, bringing in strays, and punching cows on the roundup.

  “He … uh … he’s maybe slowed down a little.”

  Maggie frowned. “I was afraid of that. Funny, isn’t it? You don’t expect your dad to grow older. I rode the stage all day, imagining his face when he saw me get off. But instead, when I got to Brady, Shep was there. Papa didn’t even go into town to meet me. He’s not sick, is he?”

  Alex swallowed hard. “I, uh … not that I know of.” He tried not to let his gaze linger on her face.

  She nodded. “Shep told me things have been different around here. The men aren’t happy. I was sorry to hear that.”

  Alex didn’t know what to say, so he just waited.

  “He also seemed concerned that he might not keep his job because of his leg injury. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Not really. He twisted his knee last summer, and he was laid up for a few weeks. Since then he hasn’t been able to ride much.”

  “That’s too bad. But he’s been here for a long time. Papa wouldn’t turn him out because he hurt his leg.”

  Alex didn’t want to disillusion her, but he had his doubts. “You know, a lot’s changed since you went away. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s not all for the better.”

  She laid a hand on his sleeve. “Alex, please tell me what’s going on.”

  “I don’t know. Your pa just doesn’t seem to care like he used to. About the men, about the ranch … and I’m sorry about that.”

  “So am I. Maybe he’ll talk to me about it. Thanks, Alex.” She removed her hand and gave him a businesslike smile. “So. Duchess is ready for me to ride, I hear.”

  “Yeah. She’s in good shape. She’s getting older, you know, but she’ll still take you where you want to go.”

  “I can’t wait. But I guess you won’t be around to ride with me, like in the old days.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you’ve needed an escort since you were about fourteen. You’re a big girl now.” Immediately he felt he’d crossed a line, and his cheeks burned.

  Maggie seemed to appreciate the lighter tone.

  “Maybe not, but I’d still enjoy riding with you sometime. I’d hoped Papa and I would come out to the roundup, like in the old days.”

  Alex shrugged. “I doubt you can get him out there, but it’d probably do him some good if you could.”

  He swung up into the saddle.

  “I’ll try to talk to Papa tomorrow. Maybe he’ll listen to me.”

  “That’d be good,” Alex said. “You know he’s told us we can’t have our own herds anymore? He used to let the men claim up to ten mavericks apiece every year at the roundup. Now he’s put a stop to it.”

  She looked at the ground. “Shep said something about that. It surprised me. And I … I heard you and Papa speak of it tonight.”

  More like, she’d heard them arguing.

/>   “I don’t think he’ll change his mind. And the men don’t want to keep working unless he raises their wages or gives back their herds.”

  “Don’t want to keep working? What do you mean?” She stepped up close to Red, peering up at Alex with stormy eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s the way it is. The word ‘strike’ was mentioned today. I tried to talk them out of it and promised to talk to the boss. You heard him. He won’t give in.”

  Maggie studied his face for a moment. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”

  “Me too. I didn’t tell your pa the way the men are talking, but … things can’t go on the way they are, that’s all.” He lifted the reins, and Red perked up, ready for a signal to move.

  “Well, good-bye.” Maggie’s lips twitched, as though she wanted to say more and could barely hold it in. She looked young and vulnerable again.

  Alex wished he could tell her things would sort themselves out and the Rocking P would go back to being the happy, prosperous place she remembered. But he couldn’t.

  He touched his hat brim then turned Red and loped away.

  When she went inside, Shep was walking toward the door.

  “Alex gone?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Shep’s face fell. “I was going to ask him to help me get your trunk in.”

  “I can help you, Shep.”

  “No, it’s too heavy.”

  Maggie laughed, though she wasn’t feeling playful. “Just because I’ve been away a couple of years doesn’t mean I’ve gotten puny.”

  A smile cracked his weathered face. “All right, missy, let’s see what we can do.”

  They got it as far as the kitchen, where Dolores stood at the sink, washing dishes.

  “Set it down.” Panting, Maggie straightened and put her hands to the small of her back. “What if we leave it here and I take small loads to my room? You can take it out to the barn tomorrow, when it’s empty.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Dolores said.

  “Thank you. I don’t think I’ll even open it until morning. I’m ready for bed.”

  “Let me fix you something for a snack.” Dolores reached for a dish towel and dried her hands.

  “No, thanks. Supper was wonderful, and I don’t think I could eat another bite.” Maggie gave her a hug and smiled at the old cowboy. “Good night, Shep.”

  “Sweet dreams, Miss Maggie.”

  In her room, Maggie quickly changed into her nightgown. She’d looked forward to this day for a long time, but now that she was actually here, she felt let down. Her father had spent a minimum of time with her. Most of the men had gone out on roundup and left the home ranch nearly deserted. Everyone she talked to was glum and told her things had gone downhill.

  The one thing that had turned out better than she’d anticipated was Alex. He’d matured into a rugged cowboy. She’d seen appreciation in his eyes when he looked at her, but he’d kept a reserve between them. Maybe he didn’t want to start a romance. She’d ask Carlotta Herrera if Alex had a sweetheart. She hoped not. That would be a hard blow to handle. Or maybe something else held him back. Maybe Alex was interested in her but was afraid her father wouldn’t approve.

  Papa had always liked Alex, though. When she was younger, he’d even teased her occasionally about how much she liked the young man. He’d promoted Alex while she was away. Alex was his foreman now, and that pleased her. Papa must rely on him a lot.

  If her father seemed in a better mood tomorrow, she’d sound him out on how he felt about Alex.

  She smiled as she blew out the lantern on her bedside table. Maybe it was time she made her feelings clear to Alex, now that she’d established in her own mind that she still cared for him. Let him see her admiration and watch for a response.

  The things he’d said about the cowboys bothered her. Papa had always been a bit of a skinflint—he said that’s how he built his fortune—but the men deserved to be treated well. And maybe better paid. If the hands weren’t happy, the ranch wouldn’t run smoothly. Anyone who grew up on a ranch knew that.

  She rolled over on her pillow and pulled the quilt her mother had made close beneath her chin. It smelled like home. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought of Alex again. She hoped the pay issue wouldn’t stand between them. When she talked to her father tomorrow, maybe she could sway him where Alex couldn’t.

  The men had already driven all the cattle out of the closest, most easily accessible areas. Alex and most of the twenty men on the roundup set out in the morning to go farther afield. The cook and wrangler would stay in camp, along with two more cowboys who were in charge of branding today. The others rode out soon after sunup, separating to look for scattered bunches of cattle.

  Alex took Leo Eagleton and Tommy Drescher with him. Leo had been with the Rocking P for five years, but Tommy was younger and less experienced. He’d only joined the outfit a few months ago, and Alex wanted to keep an eye on him until he was sure Tommy was skilled enough to stay out of trouble.

  Nevada and two other men rode with them the first mile, until they spotted a few cattle in a dip in the rolling range.

  “You get those,” Alex said. “We’re heading for Willow Gulch.” The small canyon was hidden in a fold of low hills a couple of miles away, and the sparse trees growing there offered a little shade. A few cattle could usually be found there in the heat of the day.

  They found almost thirty cattle grazing in the gulch and drove them back toward the camp. Two cows led the bunch. One had a calf. The other was a speckled red cow and bony, probably getting past breeding age. Alex would send her to the stockyards. She wouldn’t let the others past her, but swung her head menacingly, with her wide horns pointing toward any that came too close.

  As they approached the holding pens, Alex hung back to make sure none of the stragglers went astray. Tommy and Leo rode along the flanks of the bunch, pushing them toward the fence. Joe Moore saw them coming and hurried to open the gate, shooing the cattle inside away from the opening.

  At the last instant, the speckled lead cow ducked aside. Leo rode toward her with a whoop, swinging his lariat. The longhorn charged his horse, straight on. Alex spurred his horse, but knew he couldn’t get close to Leo in time to help. Even though Leo’s horse pivoted, the rogue cow slammed into its shoulder, and Leo went down with his mount.

  Alex galloped Red toward Leo, but half a dozen steers followed the leader and veered away from the gate. Alex yelled and headed off the rest. The mama cow trotted into the pen with her calf close behind, and the rest followed. Tommy closed in behind them and seemed to have the remainder of the bunch under control. Alex turned back to Leo and jumped from the saddle.

  Leo’s horse had pushed himself up off the ground and stood trembling a few yards away. Leo lay sprawled in the trampled grass, his face contorted with pain.

  “What hurts?” Alex said, bending close.

  “My leg.” Leo’s right leg lay stretched out, but the left stuck out to the side. “Horse fell right on it. I couldn’t push off in time.” He grimaced.

  “All right, don’t try to move. I’ll get a couple of the men to help get you over to the wagon.”

  Tommy and Joe rode over and sat on their horses, looking down at Leo.

  “What happened?” Tommy asked.

  “That spotted cow in the lead charged me,” Leo said between gritted teeth.

  Alex pushed his hat back. “Tommy, go get someone to help you bring that bunch in. There’s six or eight of ’em that got away. And watch out for that speckled cow. She’s meaner’n a sidewinder. Joe, ride to the chuck wagon and get Leo’s bedroll and a couple more men. We’ll need to send Leo home.”

  Leo’s face contorted, but he didn’t protest. His wife, Sela, would be upset, of course, but she’d take care of him.

  Alex wasn’t sure whether to straighten the injured leg or not, but they’d have to move Leo. No doctor would come out here. The nearest one lived in Brady, and they’d have to send someone from the r
anch to get him, if he’d come as far as the Rocking P ranch house.

  Tommy came back with Early and Bronc, two of the men who had been working at the branding fire putting the Rocking P mark on the calves the others brought in. Bronc Tracey was an outgoing man of about thirty, with coffee-colored skin and a woolly beard, and known for his funny stories. He was married and lived in one of the cabins near the home ranch. Early Shaw was a confirmed bachelor—a tough cowpoke who’d seen the backside of forty and couldn’t be shocked. He dismounted and knelt beside Leo, on the opposite side from Alex.

  “What you thinkin’? Take him back to the ranch?”

  Alex nodded. “Thought I’d send you and Stewie in the chuck wagon with him.” Stewie was their camp cook, otherwise known as William Stewart, but Bronc had come up with the appropriate nickname a couple of years ago on their spring drive.

  “Sela’s gonna be mad,” Leo said with a moan.

  “Aw, she’ll likely coddle you like a baby,” Alex said.

  Early laughed. “You afraid she’ll finish you off? I always knew she wore the pants in your family.”

  Leo’s mouth twisted again. “Right now I don’t care. Why don’t you just knock me out so I don’t have to feel this?”

  Alex laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, Leo. You’re gonna be all right.”

  Bronc came over with Leo’s bedroll. “You want to use his blankets?”

  Alex stood and reached to the bedroll. “Yup. I figure that’s the easiest way to lift him into the wagon.”

  “Stewie’s going to drive it over here,” Tommy said. “He had to pack up some stuff first.”

  “All right, let’s lay out the blankets and get Leo on them so we’re ready when he gets here.”

  Leo twisted his neck and looked around. “Where’s my horse? Is he dead?”

  Early scrunched up his weather-beaten face. “Not by a long shot. We’ll have Joe look him over, but he’s standing yonder gawking at you.”

  Leo grunted. “It hurts. Kin I yell now?”

  “Yell all you want.” Alex reckoned Leo would let loose when they moved him. He undid Leo’s bedroll and shook out the two blankets. The cowboy’s extra shirt and socks fell out on the ground. Alex picked them up and passed them to Tommy. “Put those in the wagon when Stewie gets here.”