Albert Bridges had expected more of a reaction as well, and looking at each girl somewhat warily, asked, "Do you understand what this means?"

Marian nodded, even smiled at him. "I'm assuming that Aunt Kathleen isn't going to change her life to accommodate us just because her brother died, so we will have to travel to her. Is that what you mean?"

He sighed in relief. "Exactly. I know it may seen daunting, having to move so far away from everything and everyone you know, but it can't be helped."

"Actually—I don't mind at all. I have no real attachment to this city—"

The storm arrived. Amanda shot to her feet so fast, she dislodged not one but two blond locks from her coiffure, both on the same side, so she now had a long wave of golden hair curling around and beyond her breast. Her dark blue eyes were flashing like sapphires under a jewelers light, and her lips had thinned to form a snarl.

"Absolutely out of the question! Do you have any idea where this unknown aunt of ours lives? It's the other side of the world!"

"Just the other side of the country, actually," Marian said calmly.

"That is the same thing!" Amanda yelled. "She lives among savages."

"The savages have been curtailed—mostly."

Amanda glared at her. "Shut up, just ... just shut up! You go live in the wilds of Texas and rot and die for all I care. I'll get married immediately and stay right here, thank you very much."

Albert tried to stop her, to explain further, but Amanda was too furious to listen and stalked out of the room. He gave Marian a long-suffering look.

"She can't just—get married," he told Marian with a weary sigh.

"I didn't think so."

"I mean she can, but then she would forfeit her inheritance. As your guardian, your aunt must give her approval, for either of you to marry."

"Shall I fetch her back?" Marian offered. "She hasn't left the house yet. We would have heard the slamming of the front door if she had."

"I'll go after her." Albert sighed again. "I should have been more clear to begin with."

Albert rose from behind the desk, but it wasn't necessary. Amanda came marching back into the study on her own with Karl Ryan in tow. Karl was one of her hopeful suitors, her least favorite actually, but she tolerated him because he was handsome and considered a fine catch by any standards. As long as a man had other women interested in him, even if only one, Amanda wanted him interested in her instead because she thrived on the envy of other women.

Karl had been on hand that morning to accompany them to the cemetery. Amanda had been too preoccupied to notice that he was the only one of her suitors to come by to offer his condolences. Marian knew that visitors were being turned away at the door with the simple explanation that the girls weren't receiving callers. Someone had decided they should have some undisturbed time for mourning. Marian was grateful because she had no desire to deal with anyone just now. Amanda probably would have objected if she'd known.

Karl had been hard to turn away, though, since he'd come by right after they'd been told the news of Mortimer's death, and he had heard about it from Amanda. He'd been waiting in the parlor since they'd returned from the funeral, prepared to offer as much comfort as he could today. But Amanda didn't appear to need comforting. She needed calming because she still looked furious.

"There, I've setded the matter," Amanda said triumphantly. "I'm now engaged to marry Mr. Ryan. So I'll hear no more talk about leaving home." And then she added snidely, "But I'll be glad to help you pack, Marian."

"Unless Mr. Ryan is willing to travel with you to Texas, to meet your aunt and obtain her approval, marrying him will not release your inheritance to you, Miss Laton," Albert was forced to point out. "Without that approval, you would forfeit everything."

"No! My God, I can't believe Papa did this to me. He knew I despise traveling."

"He didn't die on purpose just to inconvenience you, Amanda," Marian said in annoyance. "I'm sure he thought you'd be settled long before he died."

"I will be most happy to travel with you to Texas," Karl offered.

"Don't be absurd," Amanda snapped at him. "Can't you see this changes everything?"

"No, it doesn't," Karl insisted. "I still want to marry you."

Marian saw what was coming, and tried to spare Karl's feelings. "You should leave for the time being," she suggested quickly. "She's upset—"

"Upset!" Amanda shouted. "I'm beyond upset. But yes, do leave. There's no longer a reason for me to marry you; in fact, I can't think of a single one now."

Marian glanced away, unwilling to see just how crushed Karl was by those few careless words, but not soon enough. She saw it anyway. And he'd looked so happy when he'd come into the room moments ago, his hearts desire unexpectedly achieved. He really did want Amanda for his wife. Heaven knew why, but he did. Somehow, he hadn't seen or had chosen to ignore this vicious side of her—until now.

But hopefully, after he got over the rejection, he would rejoice to have escaped marriage to such a heartless bitch.

Chapter 2

IT WAS A SMALL ranch by most standards, but even smaller by Texas standards. Nestled in the fertile plains west of the Brazos, with a quarter mile of an ofrshoot of the river passing through the northeast corner of die spread, the Twisting Barb encompassed some prime land, if not a lot of it. With less than a thousand head of cattle, the ranch had room for more, but its owners had never aspired to be "cattle kings."

There was only one owner now. Red had taken over the running of the ranch after her husband died. She had learned ranching well, could have handled the task with ease, except for one thing—a lack of good cowhands who would listen to her.

At her wits' end, she'd been seriously thinking about selling. All their good cowhands had up and left when her husband died. She'd put out the word in town that she was hiring, but any hand worth his salt sought a job on the Kinkaid spread. The only ones willing to work for her were wet-behind-the-ears teenagers, and young Easterners who'd drifted west for one reason or another but had to be taught every step of the way when it came to ranching.

She was willing to teach. But they weren't willing to learn, at least not from an old gal they viewed as a second mother. Like a passel of youngsters, they'd listen to her, but they didn't hear. Her instructions went in one ear and out the other. She'd been on the verge of giving up and selling out when Chad Kinkaid came along.

She had known Chad for many years. He was the son of her neighbor, Stuart Kinkaid, a rancher who did aspire to be known as a "cattle king." Stuart owned the biggest ranch in the area and was always looking to expand it. He would have been knocking on her door if he'd known Red was thinking of selling. But she didn't really want to sell, she'd just figured she had no choice, as bad as things had gotten after her husband died. But Chad turned her situation around, and she still gave thanks for the storm that had brought him to the Twisting Barb three months ago.

It had been the last bad storm of the winter season. And the only reason Chad happened to be nearby when it broke was that he'd had a falling-out with his father and was leaving home—for good. Red had put him up for the night. Being an astute man, he'd noticed that something was wrong, and over breakfast the next morning, he'd dragged it out of her, the troubles she'd been having.

She hadn't expected his offer to help. But she should have. Stuart Kinkaid might be an ornery cuss, but he'd raised a real fine son in Chad.

If she were twenty years younger, she'd be in love, she was that grateful to him. But she was old enough, or pert near old enough, to be Chad's mother, and the truth was, though no one else knew it, she was in love with his father. Had been since the day she met him twelve years ago when Stuart rode over to welcome her and her new husband to his neighborhood, and gave them one hundred head of cattle to help them get started on their fledgling ranch.

Stuart had been about the most handsome man she'd ever met, and coupled with his kindness that day, he'd gradually wormed his way into a corner of her heart and stayed there. Her husband never knew. Stuart never knew. No one would ever know if she could help it. And even though Stuart's wife had died long before she'd met him, and her husband had died just recendy, she never once thought about doing anything about her feelings for that tall Texan.

Stuart Kinkaid was just too grandiose for her: rich, still handsome, a bigger-than-life personality, a man who could have any woman he wanted if he set his mind to it. While she was a kindhearted redheaded mouse of a woman, who hadn't turned any heads in her youth and certainly didn't now when she was nearing forty.

Chad was like his father in many ways, too handsome for his own good, but she'd never heard of him breaking any hearts along the way, so she didn't think he took advantage of his looks in that regard. He might have been a bit rowdy in his youth, might butt heads with his father quite frequently, but he was dependable. If he said he'd do something, come hell or high water, it would get done. And, of course, he'd been raised to be the best catdeman around. He'd been raised to take over the huge Kinkaid spread.

It didn't take long for Chad to turn the bunch of greenhorns Red was stuck with into a well-oiled outfit. The hands looked up to him, heck, they loved him. He knew how to work men, so even when he had to scold, they didn't feel they were hopeless. They were more than willing to learn from him, and learn they did.