for your land. Buy yourself a place in town, spend more time with your daughter, get yourself a man…”
She glanced at the beer, trying to control her anger and the urge to dump the liquid over his head. She gritted her teeth. “I’ve told you before, my land isn’t for sale.”
Movement caught her eye, and she saw her former employees scurry into the shadows of the darkened barns and empty animal corrals.
Cowards.
She looked back at Kyle. “Why stop with those two? Why not wipe me out completely and go after Willie and Hank, too?”
“Those old coots should’ve been put out to pasture years ago.” He stepped closer, wrapping a finger around a strand of hair that had worked loose from her ponytail. “Admit it, you can’t handle all that land, cattle and horses.”
Maggie jerked her chin, freeing his hold. “Go to hell, Kyle.”
She headed for the bright lights of the raised wooden platform beyond a cluster of cottonwoods. He fell into step beside her.
“I remember a time when you didn’t want me to stay away.”
She shook her head, barely able to tolerate that she’d once been taken in by his baby-blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones and charming lies. “Three months,” she said. “Three months of romancing me to get my land.”
He smirked. “Sometimes a man’s got to make sacrifices. I never could figure what Alan saw in you. Then I realized he’d stuck around to get his hands on your ranch.”
She spun to him, furious. “Well, he didn’t. And you can forget about getting your hands on it, too.”
They’d reached the trees. Kyle leaned in and grabbed her arms. Whiskey laced his breath. She mentally kicked herself for not noticing sooner. Sober, Kyle was annoying, but after a few drinks, he could get downright mean.
“I can put my hands any damn place I please,” he said.
A flash of a buried memory caused Maggie’s stomach to lurch. Beer splashed over the edges of the cups and dripped over her fingers. “You bastard,” she choked. “Take your hands off me.”
“Not until I’m good and ready.”
A flicker of panic coursed through her, but anger snuffed it out. “Get ready now or you’re going to find yourself with a face full of Budweiser.”
“You wouldn’t dare—”
With an angry flick of her wrist, she launched the contents of the cups at him. He jumped back, releasing her with a shove. “Goddammit!”
The liquid splashed on Kyle’s fancy, snap-button shirt and her sundress, leaving enough for round two. “Don’t dare me anything.” A step backwards took her deeper into the trees. “Back off.”
Greeley seized her again, his blunt nails digging into her arms. “You’re gonna pay—”
“She told you to leave her alone.”
Maggie froze as a low, commanding voice rumbled over her shoulder.
Actually, it came more from over the top of her head. She was acutely conscious of a man towering behind her. Overwhelming her. The husky tone causing a ripple of…what? Need? Awareness?
Annoyance crossed Kyle’s face. “This is none of your business, Cartwright.”
“Maybe not, but the lady’s made her feelings quite clear.”
“Let me be clear.” Kyle took a step closer, his attention focused over Maggie’s head as his hands tightened on her. “If you want to keep your job, I suggest you turn and walk away.”
The man behind her took a step closer. “Let. Her. Go.” His voice grew harder with each word.
Kyle flicked his gaze back to Maggie. “We still got business between us.” He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Don’t bother showing up at the Triple G tonight, Cartwright. In fact, I suggest you leave Destiny. For good.”
Spinning around, Greeley vanished into the darkness.
Oh, boy, that was…she wasn’t sure what that was, other than Kyle being his usual idiotic self. A deep breath helped. Maggie turned to thank her rescuer, but her foot caught on a tree root, and she stumbled backwards.
A pair of strong hands clamped her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest and rock-hard thighs. The man’s jaw brushed her hair, a rush of hot breath flowed over her ear.
Twisting in his grasp, she tipped her head back to look at his face. Intense eyes stared at her from beneath the crown of a black Stetson. Dark stubble outlined his mouth and covered his jaw. A shiver she couldn’t control raced through her. He dropped his hands and took a step back.
Maggie struggled to speak. “Thank you…for, well, thank you.”
“No problem.” He tucked in his chin, effectively blocking her attempt to peer further under the wide brim of his hat. “You okay?”
“Y-yes.” She nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You better get going before he decides to come back.”
Before she could reply, her rescuer stepped around her and followed Kyle into the darkness. She watched his tall form disappear, trying to ignore the sudden rush of butterflies zooming around her stomach. Placing the blame for them firmly on Greeley, she glanced at what remained of the beer. Racy and Leeann were waiting for her. She’d better get moving. Mindful of the tree roots, she headed toward the crowded dance area.
Maggie offered a few hellos to familiar faces before she caught sight of her best friend in the middle of the dance floor with her seventy-year-old ranch hand. Willie tried his best to keep pace with Racy, who was four decades his junior, but like everyone else, he was distracted by her flame-red curls and undulating curves.
The dance ended and Racy joined Maggie. “Boy, Willie can still do a mean two-step.” She grabbed one of the cups. “About time you got here. Where’ve you been? And what happened to my beer?”
Maggie poured the remains of her drink into Racy’s. “I got sidetracked.”
“Doing what?”
Maggie ignored the question, renewing her determination not to let Kyle Greeley’s antics spoil her fun. “Where’s Leeann? I thought she was meeting us.”
“Her beeper chirped about ten minutes ago.”
“I thought Gage gave her the night off.”
“Yeah, well, being a deputy in a small town means you’re always on call. Besides, you know Sheriff Steele,” Racy snorted. “All work and no play makes for a pain-in-the—”
Maggie cut her off, tired of her friend’s nasty comments about the local lawman. “High school’s long gone, Racy. Let it go.”
“I have!”
Maggie
