frowning eyes lifted to meet hers. “What about it?”
“Don’t you think you should have consulted me before refusing Troy’s offer?”
Cole shifted his gaze back to the cobbler. He gave it another poke. “No.”
“That’s my land, Cole.”
Setting his fork aside, he lifted his dark eyebrows as he met her eyes once again. “No one says it isn’t. But I’m the one Eileen put in charge to look out for your best interests.”
Ally folded her arms across her chest. “And that’s what you were doing today? Protecting my interests?”
“Of course. What else would I be doing? We need that grass for the herd.”
“Don’t give me that. We have more than enough range for the herd we’re running now. You know and I know that if anyone else had wanted to lease that land, you would have agreed in a red-hot minute. The only reason you refused is because it was Troy O’Malley.”
Cole’s stern mouth curled in a grim smile. “Seems like a good enough reason to me.”
“Well, not to me.”
His smile faded and his blue gaze narrowed on her face. “Since when have you become so concerned about Troy O’Malley?”
She gave a short laugh, waving a dismissing hand at the thought of mocking green eyes. “I’m not concerned with him at all. What I want—what I need—is that money he offered. To put my own plans into action.”
“What plans?”
“To move into Eileen’s house.”
Cole snorted. “You’re kidding me. Why would you want to move out there?”
“To be able to do what I want.”
Genuinely perplexed, Cole frowned at her. “That’s ridiculous. What can you do at Eileen’s house that you can’t do here?”
I could paint the place pink, hang lace curtains at all the windows if I decide to, without anyone groaning about it. I wouldn’t have to clean up constantly after four messy men. I could put on lipstick and eye shadow—experiment with makeup—without being teased that I look like a rodeo clown. I could take hour-long baths without an irritable male pounding on the door asking “Have you died in there?” And I could go out on dates, stay out all night if I choose to, without one or all of my four brothers intimidating the hell out of the poor guy I’d gone out with.
She was fed up with being the fifth, inferior Cabrerra brother, Ally realized tiredly. She just wanted to be by herself—run her own life, make her own decisions—without any bossy men telling her what she should and shouldn’t do.
But Cole wouldn’t understand any of that; he’d simply dismiss it as female nonsense. So Ally gave him a reason he could understand. “I want to start my own business. Breeding and training horses.”
Cole’s expression tightened. “That’s a dream, Ally. There’s no money in that.” Impatiently, he shook his head. “Cattle is our concern.”
“Our major concern. I want to start a side business, breeding and training Peruvian Pasos for working herds and pleasure riding.”
“Peruvian Pasos,” he repeated flatly. “What’s wrong with good old American quarter horses?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. But I want to develop Peruvians.”
He took a deep breath, clearly summoning patience. “Fine. But we can’t afford to support two households right now, or invest in more horses. Maybe in a few years—”
“I don’t want to wait a few years, any more than you want to wait years to find out if there’s oil on our land. Not if I don’t have to. And leasing to Troy means that I don’t have to.”
“I’m not leasing Bride’s Price to Troy O’Malley.”
Ally’s spine stiffened, and her gaze narrowed on her brother’s stubborn face. “No?” she asked softly. “Is that because he’s an O’Malley? Or because he stole Misty from you?”
She shouldn’t have said it; Ally regretted the comment as soon as it left her lips. Cole jerked as if she’d slapped him and his expression turned to stone.
When he finally replied, he didn’t answer her questions but stated in a flat, hard voice he’d never used to her before, “O’Malley is not getting that lease. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Not waiting for her reply, he stood and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ally sat for a moment, frozen in place by the force of his anger, hurt constricting her throat and causing a prickly burning behind her eyes.
Then an answering anger rose up inside her. Blinking the pain away, she glared at the closed door.
“Oh, yes, there is something I can do, brother dear,” she said softly. “I can get married.”
Chapter Two
“During the breeding season, it is wise to observe the cattle from a distance, using field glasses if necessary, to remain unseen and thus avoid influencing their natural behavior.
“Don’t hesitate to enlist the aid of other experts in this endeavor. They may have knowledge that you lack…. ”
—Successful Breeding: A Guide for the Cattleman
Resolving to marry was one thing; finding a husband quite another. Especially if all the single men in town were intimidated by your four older brothers.
Well, she simply had to overcome that obstacle, Ally decided, lying in bed that night, pondering the problem. What she needed to do was get close enough to her prospect—once she had a prospect—to explain her proposition of a temporary marriage before her brothers could chase him off. Getting dressed up would help her get close. Every woman over the age of five knew that men—like bulls—were easily distracted and attracted by clothing. Flutter a red cape—or a sexy red dress—in front of them, and they almost couldn’t help chasing it.
The trouble was, she didn’t have a red dress—or any sexy clothes—nor the money to buy some. The only decent dress she owned was her bridesmaid dress from Cole’s canceled wedding … a dress she’d never worn.
Yes, that was the answer, she decided, settling down to get some sleep. She’d return the dress and get something new.
Her brothers headed out at dawn the next morning. After they left, Ally hurried to clean up the breakfast dishes, feed the chickens and start a load of laundry—sparing a few extra moments to flush the cigarettes she found in Kyle’s pocket. Bad enough that he risked his life riding bulls; he didn’t need to risk cancer, too.
Anxious to reach Tangleweed when the stores opened, she was on the road at nine. By ten, she was arguing with Tammy Pitts, owner of Tamara’s Treasures.
“I’m
