Page 26 of Wyoming Heart

“Well, how about that?” he asked, chuckling. “I wondered if he might try to see you. He loves your books. He’s got all three, and he was sure the newest one would be a bestseller. He’s your biggest fan.”

She laughed. “He’s a very nice man.”

“Oh dear.”

“I don’t like men. Well, most men,” she amended. “I like you and Jake and Bart.” Her voice cooled. “I don’t like Bart’s cousin.”

“What cousin?”

“Some cowboy from Texas,” she said. “He’s about the worst enemy I’ve ever had. He’s icy and hot-tempered and...impossible!”

Rogan was biting his tongue trying not to say what he thought. He’d never known mild-mannered Mina to get her dander up at any man.

“A cowboy?” he asked instead.

“A pain in the... Yes, a cowboy.” She hesitated. “He loves animals, at least.”

“That’s something.”

“But I don’t like him. Not at all. Maybe he’ll go home soon. Bart and I are going to have a joint production sale. We’ve got a really good calf crop. You should come and see it.”

“When the snow leaves,” he said shortly. “I hate snow. Australia is really nice. Hot and dry. Just like I like weather to be.”

She sighed. “I love snow.”

“You’re welcome to my share of it. You take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“You’re still my favorite cousin,” he teased.

“And you’re still mine,” she said, and meant it.

SHEWENTRIDINGfence the next afternoon, and there was Bart’s houseguest, bending over a cow that looked as if it had been dead for some time. He had a small calf in his arms. She pulled up her horse and sat, watching.

He cuddled the little thing in his arms and smiled. “You’ll be okay, little fellow,” he said softly. “We’ll put you in the barn and give you bottles until you’re ready to face the world.”

He turned and saw Mina. She couldn’t tell what his expression was, because the wide hat shaded the sun from his face.

“You going toward Bart’s?” he asked.

“I can, if I need to,” she replied.

“Okay. Can you take this little one with you? This may not be the only cow who was attacked. I need to track the killer.”

“Of course I can take him back for you.” She was worried. “Could it be a wolf?” she worried.

“It could. Or a coyote. Or even some fool shooting where he shouldn’t. I took a rifle away from one of my...our own men back home at the ranch where I work,” he said, correcting the slip so smoothly that she didn’t catch it. “He was shooting at a target that he’d put facing the house. He didn’t even know that a rifle bullet can travel for a mile before it hits something.”

“I’ve seen one or two people like that, myself. Here, hand him up.” She held out her arms and he put the little creature into them. The calf bawled for a minute, but then he relaxed in Mina’s warm arms and settled against her. She smoothed his little head and muzzle and smiled at him tenderly.

Cort felt his heart skip a beat as he looked up at her. She could have been a hundred years out of time, holding a calf on a horse, just as some pioneer woman might have done in the distant past.

He smiled. “You look right at home on a horse,” he said quietly.

She laughed. “I’ve been riding one since I was a child. But Sand—” she patted her palomino mount’s neck “—is my favorite, of all the horses I’ve ever had.”

“I have a coal-black Arabian that I ride,” he said. “I call him Valeroso.”