‘‘Now, wait just a minute. You may think you can boss everyone around, but I don’t work for you.’’

Winter thought of fighting the man. He could have used the release from all the tension he’d felt lately, but in truth, he liked Wyatt despite the man’s poor taste in women and obvious dishonesty. He might be short on character, but his personality made him easy to tolerate at least. Also, both Kora and Jamie would be fighting mad if he beat the man up and the poor gambler turned out to be innocent.

‘‘You can show me now, or after I get the sheriff.’’ Win waited. ‘‘He might be interested in knowing the time you received your injury.’’

Frustrated, Wyatt pulled his string tie and unbuttoned his collar, then his shirt. ‘‘All right. I don’t see what the fuss is about. It’s only a scar. And as for the sheriff, he already knows about it.’’

Cheyenne and Winter watched as Wyatt turned his shoulder to them. True to his word, a scar still red from healing dotted his shoulder. Both men had seen enough bullet wounds to know one.

‘‘How’d you get that?’’ Win asked.

‘‘I was shot,’’ Wyatt answered, frustrated at having to explain the obvious. ‘‘The same day Cheyenne was. That’s why I was in the doc’s office the night your men came to get him.’’

Wyatt was being too straightforward to be lying, even for a gambler, Win guessed. ‘‘Who shot you?’’

‘‘Hell if I know. Some farmer who bet away all his money, I guess. I tried to find out, but it was only a scratch compared to Cheyenne’s. Plus, the sheriff had all he could handle with the blockade trouble without worrying about a gambler who got nicked.’’

Win glanced at Cheyenne, then back at Wyatt. ‘‘Sorry to have bothered you, but we’re checking out every man in the county who’s been shot lately to see if they’re related in some way. No offense.’’

Wyatt buttoned up his shirt. ‘‘None taken. I guess if I was in your shoes, I’d be turning over every rock I thought might lead me somewhere.’’ He walked toward the door, then turned back to Winter. ‘‘But think about it, Mr. McQuillen, if I were going to shoot you, I’ve had plenty of chances. And if I was one of the men running the blockade, you’d be my first target. Take you out of the fight and the other ranchers will fall like dominoes.’’ Wyatt flashed his teeth. ‘‘If I were you, Mr. McQuillen, I’d watch my back. And the next time I’d shoot all three riders in black, not just two.’’

He walked out of the room.

Cheyenne lowered his voice. ‘‘You never mentioned you thought he might have shot at you.’’

‘‘No,’’ Winter answered. ‘‘And I don’t remember telling him I shot a second ambusher that day you were hit.’’

‘‘Think he’s one of the black riders?’’

‘‘He might be. Or he might just have overheard folks talking,’’ Winter answered. ‘‘Let’s keep him close a few days so we can keep an eye on him. He might be spying. What better disguise than being a gambler with no interest in cattle? And Jamie gives him an excuse to come out to the ranch.’’

Cheyenne nodded. ‘‘If he’s a snake, we’re bound to hear the rattler eventually.’’

On their way out of the saloon, Winter stopped and apologized once more for inconveniencing Wyatt. Then he casually invited the gambler to dinner. When Wyatt accepted, Win added an invitation to spend the night on the ranch.

When the gambler took the bait, Win knew the ante raised and what was at stake came to far more than money. His ranch-his life-was on the line.

TWENTY


THE SKY TURNED DARK WITH BOILING CLOUDS ALONG the horizon as Winter rode home on a borrowed horse behind the buggy he’d driven to town. They’d spent far longer in town than he’d planned and accomplished nothing. The sheriff couldn’t remember talking to Wyatt the night Cheyenne had been shot. After waiting on the doc for hours, he’d been able to shed little light on Wyatt’s injury. He also reported hearing the man at Breaks Settlement mumbling about gunfire, but the doc said his words didn’t make any sense. Mixed in with the screams of being shot was talk of a woman whose aim was deadly. The only woman there that day, Win told the doc, had been Kora, and she hadn’t carried a gun. The dying man must have been mixing nightmares.

Winter was beginning to think he was on the wrong track accusing the gambler. It appeared Wyatt knew nothing and Winter’s only lead was dead. But it wouldn’t hurt to keep Wyatt close a few days and watch his behavior. If the cattlemen were moving a herd north, they’d do it soon. The weather was right and market prices high. If the gambler was involved, they wouldn’t have long to wait.

Winter could hear Wyatt spinning some long tale to Cheyenne as the two rode side by side in the buggy. Winter smiled. Men who talked a lot eventually said too much.

Kicking his horse, Win pulled beside the buggy. ‘‘We’ll be lucky to make it in before the rain.’’ He was ready to be home, and he imagined Cheyenne was tired of the chatter.

Wyatt slapped the horses into a trot, and Cheyenne swore in pain. They managed to reach the barn just as huge raindrops fell, turning the dry, tan earth to a dark brown.

Winter waved the gambler and Cheyenne inside and took the buggy along with his horse to the barn. He took his time unsaddling the horse and brushing down the animals, not because they needed extra care, but because it was one way he could delay before going in the house. Being home was one thing, facing Kora was another.

He’d racked his brain all day and was no closer to thinking of what he should say to Kora. He’d gone from hating himself to being angry at her for not warning him. She should have reminded him she was a virgin. She should have made him go slower. She shouldn’t have made him so half-mad from kissing her that he wasn’t thinking.

He was no lovesick cowhand who hadn’t seen a woman in months. She was driving him crazy with her soft manner and gentle ways. And after all, she’d been the one who came looking for him in the orchard with her soft plea for him to touch her. The more he thought about it, the more he saw this whole mess as her doing.

He’d told her from the first he would never love her, Win thought. He’d been honest about wanting to share her bed. So she better not come crying and complaining now. The way he saw it, all he’d done was keep his word.

Win marched at full attack across the yard toward the house. ‘‘She got what she asked for and agreed to,’’ he mumbled, figuring there was no need for him to say a word about last night. What happened to her happened to every wife.

As he stomped in the kitchen primed for a fight, the smell of home cooking was all that greeted him. He loved the smell of cinnamon and apples baking. Since she’d been here the aromas always washed over him when he came home, making him forget most of his problems.

Win frowned. Maybe her revenge would be to fatten him up. If he kept downing half a pie at a time, he wouldn’t be able to sit a horse come next fall.

Voices drifted from the dining room. Win tossed his hat and coat on the rack and moved across the room. He ran his hand over his gunbelt. He knew Kora wanted him to remove it before sitting down at the table, but tonight he refused. Maybe that was another thing she’d just have to get used to. She was married to a rancher, and the Colt strapped to his leg was a part of his life. He hadn’t married her under any false pretenses, and if she thought she was going to change him, she’d better start thinking again.

He advanced into the dining room and took his seat, but if anyone noticed his dark mood, they gave it no credit. Wyatt was in the middle of a story, and Kora seemed far too occupied slicing meat to greet him. He joined the group and ate silently without anyone making a comment about his late arrival. Kora sat at the opposite end of the table between Wyatt and Cheyenne. Both men complimented her meal but gave most of their attention to Jamie.

When the meal was over, Jamie helped Kora clear the dishes. Win nodded to Wyatt and Cheyenne, then disappeared into his study, saying he had work to do. He was suddenly sick of talking to people, and most of all to himself.

He tried first to work, then to read, but pacing was the only thing he could do with any ability. Win thought of going out to the barn, but with the rain, all he could do there was think. Also it was not his habit to return to the barn. Win had a feeling Logan would notice and comment come morning.

Logan would mutiny if he thought Win and Kora were having trouble. The old man would be on Kora’s side before he even heard what was wrong. Not that he, or anyone else, would ever hear a word about last night. What happened was driving Win mad, and no one seemed to notice, including Kora.

Over and over in his mind he retraced the uneventful evening. The way Kora hardly looked at him. The way everyone talked around him. He might as well be Dan. No one noticed him, and he was starting to pick up his brother-in-law’s habit of walking. It was only a matter of time before he and Dan would both be circling the house nightly. Who knows? Maybe it hadn’t been the war but a wife somewhere who’d made poor old Dan the way he was.