happened to him, ever. But he’s not a maniac.”
“No, of course not. He just doesn’t like me.”
Rey wished he could dispute that. It was true, Cag was overtly antagonistic toward her, for reasons that none of the brothers understood.
“I hope you can find someone to replace me,” she said with shaky pride. “Because I’m going as soon as I get packed.”
“Tess, not like this. Give it a few days.”
“No.” She went to hang up her coat. She’d had enough of Callaghan Hart. She wouldn’t ever get over what he’d said, the way he’d looked at her. He’d frightened her badly and she wasn’t going to work for with a man who could go berserk over a cake.
Chapter Two
R ey went out to the corral where the culls—the nonproducing second-year heifers and cows—were being held, along with the young steers fattened and ready for market. Both groups were ready to be loaded into trucks and taken away to their various buyers. A few more steers than usual had been sold because drought had limited the size of the summer corn and hay crop. Buying feed for the winter was not cost-productive. Not even an operation the size of the Harts’s could afford deadweight in these hard economic times.
Cag was staring at the milling cattle absently, his heavy brows drawn down in thought, his whole posture stiff and unapproachable.
Rey came up beside him, half a head shorter, lither and more rawboned than the bigger man.
“Well, she’s packing,” he said bluntly.
Cag’s eyes glanced off his brother’s and went back to the corral. His jaw clenched. “I hate birthdays! I know she was told.”
“Sure she was, but she didn’t realize that breaking the rule was going to be life-threatening.”
“Hell!” Cag exploded, turning with black-eyed fury. “I never raised a hand to her! I wouldn’t, no matter how mad I got.”
“Would you need to?” his brother asked solemnly. “Damn it, Cag, she was shaking like a leaf. She’s just a kid, and it’s been a rough few months for her. She hasn’t even got over losing her dad yet.”
“Lay it on,” Cag said under his breath, moving restlessly.
“Where’s she going to go?” he persisted. “She hasn’t seen her mother since she was sixteen years old. She has no family, no friends. Even cooking jobs aren’t that thick on the ground this time of year, not in Jacobsville.”
Cag took off his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve before he replaced it. He’d been helping run the steers down the chute into the loading corral and he was sweating, despite the cold. He didn’t say a word.
Leo came up with a rope in his hand, watching his brothers curiously.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Rey muttered, thoroughly disgusted. “Tess made him a birthday cake and he destroyed it. She’s packing.”
Leo let out a rough sigh and turned his eyes toward the house. “I can’t say I blame her. I got her into trouble at the Christmas party by spiking the holiday punch, and now this. I guess she thinks we’re all lunatics and she’s better off without us.”
“No doubt.” Rey shrugged. “Well, let’s get the cattle loaded.”
“You aren’t going to try to stop her?” Leo asked.
“What would be the point?” Rey asked solemnly. His face hardened. “If you’d seen her, you wouldn’t want to stop her.” He glared at Cag. “Nice work, pal. I hope she can pack with her hands shaking that badly!”
Rey stormed off toward the truck. Leo gave his older brother a speaking glance and followed.
Cag, feeling two inches high and sick with himself, turned reluctantly and went back toward the house.
Tess had her suitcases neatly loaded. She closed the big one, making one last sweep around the bedroom that had been hers for the past few weeks. It was a wrench to leave, but she couldn’t handle scenes like that. She’d settle for harder work in more peaceful surroundings. At least, Cag wouldn’t be around to make her life hell.
She picked up her father’s world champion gold belt buckle and smoothed her fingers over it. She took it everywhere with her, like a lucky talisman to ward off evil. It hadn’t worked today, but it usually did. She put it gently into the small suitcase and carefully closed the lid, snapping the latches shut.
A sound behind her caught her attention and she turned around, going white in the face when she saw who had opened the door.
She moved around the bed and behind the wing chair that stood near the window, her eyes wide and unblinking.
He was bareheaded. He didn’t speak. His black eyes slid over her pale features and he took a long, deep breath.
“You don’t have anywhere to go,” he began.
It wasn’t the best of opening gambits. Her chin went up. “I’ll sleep at a Salvation Army shelter,” she said coldly. “Dad and I spent a lot of nights there when we were on the road and he didn’t win any events.”
He scowled. “What?”
She hated having admitted that, to him of all people. Her face closed up. “Will you let one of the hands drive me to town? I can catch a bus up to Victoria.”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his close-fitting jeans, straining the fabric against his powerful thighs. He stared at her broodingly.
“Never mind,” she said heavily. “I’ll walk or hitch a ride.”
She picked up her old coat, the threadbare tweed one she’d had for years, and slipped it on.
“Where’s your new coat?” he asked shortly.
“In the hall closet. Don’t worry, I’m not taking anything that doesn’t belong to me.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that he was wounded right through. “We gave it to you,” he said.
Her eyes met his squarely. “I don’t want it, or a job, or anything else you gave me out of pity.”
He was shocked. He’d never realized she thought of it like that. “You needed a job and we needed a cook,” he said flatly. “It wasn’t pity.”
She shrugged and seemed to slouch. “All right, have it any way you like. It doesn’t matter.”
She slipped her shoulder bag over her arm and picked up her worn suitcases, one big one and an overnight bag, part of a matched set of vinyl luggage that she and her father had won in a raffle.
But when she reached the door, Cag didn’t move out of the way. She couldn’t get around him, either. She stopped an arm’s length away and stared at him.
He
