if you don’t mind.”
“It’s not the sort of place to visit at night,” Langley advised.
“I won’t be visiting. I’ll be moving in.”
Langley rocked back on his heels. His gaze lowered from her dripping hair to the wet clothes that clung to her body like a second skin and then back to her bruised face. “I’m not sure I heard you right,” he said, knowing that he had but hoping he was wrong.
“If Uncle Milton is dead, then the ranch is mine. He left it to me. I have it in writing.”
“Are you a rancher?”
“No, but I can learn.”
“Yep,” Gus interrupted, “and if you have any trouble, you can call on Langley. He lives practically in hollering range. If there’s anything about cows he don’t know, it hasn’t been discovered yet.”
She propped a foot on the boot rail of one of the stools and leaned against the counter. “It’s nice to know that expert advice will be so readily available.”
“I’ll be glad to help out if you have questions,” Langley said. “Any of the Randolphs will, but don’t put any stock in Gus’s claims. Every rancher around these parts has his own way of doing things, and we all think our way’s best.”
“Nonetheless, I appreciate the offer.” Danielle looked up at Langley, her dark eyes shadowed and mysterious, her lips parted, the flesh beneath the bruises raw. “But I’m sure I’ll be selling the place as soon as I can.”
Something in the way she spoke and moved reminded Langley of a frightened calf. It might just be the news of her uncle’s death, but he had the strange suspicion that it was something more than grief that strained her voice and haunted her ebony eyes. More like fear. After all, someone had recently branded her with the telltale signs of violence.
“You can call on me as a rancher or as a lawman,” he said. “We don’t cater to abuse or abusers in Kelman.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stepped closer and trailed a finger along the purple marks that ran the length of her arm. She trembled at his touch and then backed away. An unfamiliar sensation swept through Langley, an awareness that set his nerves on edge. A beautiful woman with dangerous secrets—one who was about to become his neighbor.
And suddenly, Langley knew exactly how it must feel to be caught standing in the middle of a stampede with no way to escape.
HER UNCLE WAS DEAD. The news hit hard, a blow that knocked the last smidgen of confidence right out of her. All her hopes had been tied up in finding the one man who might be able to give her back her life. Now those hopes had been dashed with a single sentence out of the sheriff’s mouth.
Danielle slid the wet backpack down her arms, then scooted into the booth across the table from Langley Randolph. She faked a smile and hoped the rugged cowboy couldn’t hear the grumbling of her stomach when the man called Gus set a plateful of crispy onion rings between them. The last meal she’d eaten had been the lumpy oatmeal and cold toast the hospital had served for breakfast yesterday. Since then, she’d made do with a couple of cartons of milk and the crackers she’d picked up when the bus had made its pit stops.
Still, the little money her teenage roommate at the hospital had lent her would disappear fast enough without wasting it on restaurant food. Especially after she’d already used half of the meager funds to buy a bus ticket, an inexpensive backpack and a few other necessities.
Her mouth watered. She turned and stared out at the storm, but it was no use. The aroma was like a magnet, pulling her gaze back to the golden-brown slices of battered onion.
Langley pushed the plate in front of her. “Have some,” he insisted. “I hate to eat alone. Besides, Gus is a very sensitive man. His feelings will be hurt if you don’t rave over his speciality of the house.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to try them.” She lifted one from the plate and slipped it into her mouth. She chewed it too fast, but once her stomach had food that close, it refused to hold out any longer.
A minute later, Gus placed two more plates in front of them, each holding an oversize cheeseburger with thick slices of tomato and crisp lettuce.
“I know you said you weren’t hungry,” he said, “but I had this cooked already. It’s on the house. Just eat what you want.”
So she hadn’t fooled anyone. Obviously, she wasn’t a good actress. She hoped that wasn’t what she’d done for a living before…before she’d almost wound up dead. Before her life had slipped away in a black cloud of desperation.
She forced her mind back to the present. “Thanks, Gus,” she replied, her fingers already closing around the sesame-seed bun. “If the burger is as good as the onion rings, I’ll be able to eat it even if I’m not hungry.”
“Good. You eat up. Keep Langley here company, but don’t let him bore you with talk about those cows of his.”
“I promise not to get bored.” She bit into the burger as Gus walked away. Her taste buds danced deliriously. After two weeks of hospital food and two days of starvation, the thick, juicy beef was like manna from heaven.
She felt Langley’s eyes on her while she ate and knew he was sizing her up, but even that wasn’t enough to squelch her enjoyment of the meal. With all the problems she had, any pleasure at all was a cause for celebration.
Langley didn’t say a word until she’d finished everything on her plate, but the second the last bite was swallowed, he propped his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “I’m kind of surprised to hear that Milton had a niece. I’d heard he didn’t have any family.”
She stared him down. “I guess you heard wrong.” His attitude annoyed her. More to the point, it made her nervous. As nervous as the badge on his shirt did. She’d had enough of arrogant lawmen over the past two weeks.
They’d interrogated her endlessly and then doubted her answers. They’d poked into her affairs and then questioned her integrity.
“Were you a friend of my uncle’s?” she asked, hoping to throw the focus of the conversation on something other than herself. Besides, she needed all the information she could get, and the sooner the better.
Langley leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t say your uncle and I were friends. More like acquaintances.”
“But you did know him?”
“We were neighbors. My family owns the Burning Pear Ranch, and it borders the Running Deer. We’re separated by a creek that’s dry about half the time and by miles of barbed wire.”
“So you live by the theory that good fences make good neighbors?”
“Absolutely. Especially in cattle country.”
The sheriff was smiling now, a nice open smile that curled his lips and touched his dusky gray eyes. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge. But then, she was in no position to trust anyone, especially a stranger who, like it or not, was probably going to know as much about her as she knew about herself before long.
Langley
