She turned to him now with a tentative smile that died as soon as she saw the frown he had fixed on her. Had she misunderstood his response? Maybe a few lies would be necessary after all.

“I really don’t have the same problem I did six weeks ago when I first asked for help. If I wasn’t so shaken up by your arrival this morning, I would have thought to tell you that. With so much time passed, tempers have cooled, and the situation is so minor now it isn’t even worth mentioning.”

He sat back again in that lazy crossed-arm pose and drawled, “Now I’m plumb curious, so why don’t you mention it anyway?”

She wasn’t about to go into it for him, since she might inadvertently say something that could suggest his help was still needed. “It’s just a matter of a few people being annoyed with me.”

“How many?”

She hedged. “There are two separate families.”

“How many?”

His persistence made her eyes narrow and she snapped impatiently, “I never bothered to count.”

“That many?”

Was that humor in his tone? She wasn’t sure, but this was no laughing matter, not to her. Then again, it wouldn’t hurt if he thought it was.

So she waved a dismissive hand and assured him, “It’s nothing serious. The reason I would still have welcomed Mr. Pickens’s help was I would have liked to get things back to the way they were before I got everyone — annoyed at me. I was hoping I could still stay here until spring, as I’d intended. But now I’ll just stay until my papa returns, and that isn’t going to be a problem.”

He said nothing to that, just stared at her patiently as if waiting for her to continue — as if he knew there had to be more to it than that. Well, too bad. She’d said all she was going to on that subject.

“It was kind of you to offer to help, but there’s nothing to help with now. I’m not in any, well… danger — never was, actually, and the telegram I’m sending to Mr. Pickens will release you from any obligation you might feel.”

“Is that so?”

“Certainly. Maybe he’ll even consider your debt paid, even though you didn’t have to do anything. After all, you came. You were able and willing to help — damned persistent about it, actually,” she added in a low-voiced grumble. “You did as he asked, so what more is there—”

“He won’t see it that way any more’n I do,” Angel cut in dryly. “But since there’s ‘no problem,’ you won’t mind if I stick around for a few days and ask some questions, will you?”

Cassie stiffened and demanded sharply, “Now why would you do that?”

“Because you don’t lie very well, lady.”

She stared at him for a long moment, seeing it in his eyes, in his faintly scornful look, that he hadn’t believed a single word she’d said. She let out a sigh, saying ruefully, “I know. But most folks don’t notice.”

“Maybe because you’re so sweet-faced wholesome, they can’t imagine you telling anything but the truth.”

Had she just been insulted or complimented? And how was it that he had known, without a doubt, that she wasn’t being honest, when it was only people who knew her really well who usually had that ability?

She tried one last time. “You still can’t help. What happened with Morgan just proves it. You get people riled, and I need them pacified.”

He slowly shook his head at her. “I’m not about to take your word for it, lady, not after that crock of bullshit you just handed me. I’ll decide for myself whether I can help. But until I hear what your problem is, and the truth this time, I’m staying right on your boot heels, and I doubt you’ll enjoy that.”

She knew she wouldn’t. He might not be threatening at the moment, just pigheaded stubborn, but he still made her extremely nervous. She was too aware of him in every way, of his raw masculinity and the violence he was capable of. She simply had no experience in dealing with someone like him, but she’d better learn real quick, because it looked like she wasn’t getting rid of him any time soon.

“All right,” she said, slightly bitter, slightly resigned. “But first let me assure you that what trouble I’m in is my own fault. I’m a meddler, you see. I’m the first to admit it. It’s something I can’t seem to help doing. And I should warn you that if you stick around, I’ll probably try meddling in your life, too.”

“So I’ve been warned,” he replied.

He wasn’t impressed, though, she noted. He was probably confident that he was too intimidating for her to try any such thing with him. Come to think of it, that might be so.

“At any rate,” she continued, “what I tried to do this time was end a feud that’s been going on down here for twenty-five years. It’s between two families, the MacKauleys and the Catlins. Actually, it’s not just the families. Whoever works for them takes sides, too. Brawls break out every once in a while between the hands when they meet up in town. If their two herds mix — well, that could lead to shooting before they get unmixed. My papa has become sort of a buffer these past ten years, at least on the range, since he settled right in the middle of their two properties. So the feud is pretty much past the violent stage, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of hate built up on both sides.”

“I know all about feuds, Miss Stuart. I’ve been in the middle of several myself.”

She knew that, at least she’d heard about one that he’d been hired to participate in, but she wasn’t going to comment on that. “These folks, they aren’t hardheaded about their feud. They don’t insist outsiders take sides. So I was friendly with both families, in particular with Jenny Catlin, who’s near my age — and Morgan MacKauley.”

“That ornery young cuss you were talking to? You call that friendly?”

She flushed at his sneering tone. “He was friendly enough before I got his whole family set against me.”

“And how’d you manage that?”

“I played matchmaker. I figured the simplest way to end the feud was to have the two families joined by marriage. It was a good idea. Don’t you think so?”

“If the married couple didn’t end up killing each other, I suppose it could’ve worked. Is that what happened? They killed each other?”

Cassie scowled at his blas� tone. “There was no killing. But Jenny and Clayton married with my help, each thinking the other was in love with them. I sort of convinced them of that. Only they found out on their wedding night that neither had reached the loving point yet. Clayton dumped his bride back on her family, both families were outraged, and I got blamed for the whole mess, and rightly so, since those two, the youngest of both families, would never have done anything about their mutual attraction if I hadn’t noticed it and meddled.”

“So you’ve got half the folks around here hating your guts. Is that all?”

Her mouth dropped open. “All? That’s enough for me, thank you,” she said indignantly. “I’m not used to being hated. And that’s not all. I’ve been asked — well, told, actually, to get out of Texas by both families. But the MacKauleys also gave me a date that I’d better be gone by, or else they’ll burn down the Double C. Now, they were generous, really, when you consider this was six weeks ago. They were giving me plenty of time, time enough for my papa to return. Only Papa got delayed with an injury. My time is up this Saturday and the foreman’s been chased off by the Catlins, so I can’t leave even if I wanted to, and neither Dorothy Catlin nor R. J. MacKauley, the two heads of the families, will speak to me, so I can’t even apologize or grovel for forgiveness. So you tell me, mister, how are you going to help? I needed Mr. Pickens’s talent for talking folks around to being reasonable. From what I hear, you don’t talk much at all.”

“From what you hear? That’s not the first time you’ve implied you know me, when we’ve never met to my recollection. Or have we?”

It wasn’t very flattering that he would suppose he would have forgotten her if they had met. But Cassie didn’t take offense. She was well aware that she was no beauty to turn men’s heads. Not that she’d been completely ignored since she’d reached a marriageable age. Of course, the fact that the Lazy S was a very large ranch and the Stuarts had other wealth besides had a lot to do with it. But of the two men who’d shown some slight interest, each had asked outright if she’d be willing to get rid of Marabelle, and their interest had ended when told she wouldn’t.

She said to Angel now, “We haven’t met, but I do know all about you, what you are, what you do. I grew up on tales of your exploits.”

He gave her a doubtful look. “My name’s recognized in the North, lady, but only in a few places down here.”

“Yes, but I’m only visiting Texas,” she explained. “My home is in Wyoming.”

He stared at her hard for a moment, then swore. “Son of a — you’re one of them eccentric Stuarts from the Lazy S out of Cheyenne, aren’t you? The ones that got an el-e-phant grazing out on the range with their cattle. Hell and I should have known.”

He said the last with such disgust, she blushed furiously. “You and hell don’t know a damn thing,” she said in defense of her family. “So my grandpa likes to give unusual gifts. He’s a world traveler, who goes to many never-heard-of-before places. And he just likes to share a little of his experiences with his family in a tangible way. I don’t see any harm in that.”

“No harm? I heard that el-e-phant knocked half your barn down once.”

Her blush got brighter. “The elephant belongs to my mama. He stays out on the range, but every once in a while he comes home — so he’s a little clumsy. No real harm gets done, and my mama is very fond of him.”