used on her. And though he deserved it, her response irked him. Usually pretty women smiled at him. This one was sneering.
“I’m in the business of horses. And at this time, Three Rivers isn’t interested in selling any. You should drive down to Phoenix and try the livestock auction. If you’re careful with your bidding, you can purchase some fairly decent animals there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy.”
Not waiting to hear her reply, he walked off and didn’t stop until he was out the opposite end of the barn and out of Isabelle Townsend’s sight.
* * *
Furious and humiliated, Isabelle turned on her heel and stalked out of the barn. So much for all she’d heard about Three Rivers Ranch and its warm hospitality. Apparently, those glowing recommendations didn’t include Holt Hollister.
Outside in the bright Arizona sunlight, she crossed a piece of hard-packed ground to where her truck was parked next to a tall Joshua tree.
Jerking open the door, she was about to climb into the cab when a male voice called out to her.
Wondering if Holt Hollister had decided he’d behaved like an ass and had come to apologize, she turned to see it wasn’t the arrogant horseman who’d followed her. This man was slightly taller and perhaps a bit older than Holt Hollister, but she could see a faint resemblance to the man she’d just crossed words with.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Blake Hollister, manager of the ranch.”
He extended his hand in a friendly manner and Isabelle complied.
“I’m Isabelle Townsend,” she introduced herself, then added dryly, “It’s nice meeting you. I think.”
His brows disappeared beneath the brim of his gray hat. “I happened to see you go in the horse barn five minutes ago. If you’re looking for someone in particular, I might be able to help.”
“I was looking for the man who manages your horse division. Instead I found a first-class jerk!” She practically blasted the words at him, then promptly hated herself for the outburst. This man couldn’t be held responsible for his relative’s boorish behavior. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to sound so cross.”
“Isabelle Townsend,” he thoughtfully repeated, then snapped his fingers. “You must be our new neighbor who purchased the old Landry Ranch.”
Since she’d only moved here six weeks ago, she was surprised this man had heard of her. News in a small place must travel fast, she thought.
“That’s right. I was interested in purchasing a few horses from Three Rivers. But unfortunately, your brother or cousin or whatever he is to you isn’t interested in selling. Or showing a visitor good manners.”
“I’m sorry about this, Ms. Townsend.”
The ranch manager cast a rueful glance in the direction of the horse barn and Isabelle got the impression it wasn’t the first time he’d had to apologize for his brother’s behavior.
“Frankly, Mr. Hollister, I had heard this ranch was the epitome of hospitality. But after this morning, I have my doubts about that.”
“Trust me. It won’t happen again.” His smile was apologetic. “You caught my brother at a bad time. You see, it’s foaling season and he’s working virtually 24/7 right now. I promise if you’ll come back to the ranch tomorrow, I’ll make sure Holt is on his best behavior.”
Isabelle didn’t give a damn about the horse manager. As far as she was concerned, the man could ride off into the sunset and never return.
“Honestly, Mr. Hollister, I have no desire to do business with your brother. Exhaustion isn’t an excuse for bad manners.”
“No. And I agree that Holt can be insensitive at times. But you’ll find that when it comes to horses, he’s the best.”
He might be the best, but would dealing with the man be worth it? If it would help make her dream come true, she could surely put up with Mr. Arrogant for a few minutes, she decided.
Shrugging, she said, “All right, Mr. Hollister. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He helped her into the truck, then shut the truck door and stepped back. And as Isabelle drove away, she wondered why she’d agreed to meet the good-looking horseman with a tart tongue for a second time. Solely for the chance to buy a few mares? Or did she simply want the pleasure of giving him a piece of her mind?
The answer to that was probably a toss-up, she decided.
* * *
“Holt? Are you in there?”
The sound of Blake’s loud voice booming through the open doorway penetrated Holt’s sleep-addled brain. Groggily, he lifted his head just in time to see his older brother step into the messy room he called his office.
“I’m right here. What’s the matter? Is Cocoa having trouble?” He leaned back in the desk chair and wiped a hand over his face.
“As far as I know, nothing is wrong with Cocoa. I saw her five minutes ago. She was standing and the baby was nursing.”
“Thank God. I had to call Chandler back to the ranch to deal with her afterbirth. I was afraid she might be having complications,” he explained, then squinted a look at Blake’s dour expression. “What’s the matter with you? You look like you’ve been eating green persimmons.”
“That task would probably be easier than trying to fix your mess-ups,” Blake retorted.
This wiped the cobwebs from Holt’s brain. “My mess-ups? What are you talking about?”
Blake shoved a stack of papers to one side and eased a hip onto the corner of the desk. “Don’t feign ignorance. You know damned good and well I’m talking about Isabelle Townsend. The blonde who left the horse barn with smoke pouring out of her ears. What the hell did you say to her anyway?”
Holt used both hands to scrub his face again. “Not much. I basically made it clear that I didn’t have time for her. Which is hardly a lie. You know that.”
Blake blew out a heavy breath. “Yes, I know it. But in this case, you should’ve made time. Or, at the very least, been polite to the woman.”
Holt picked up a coffee cup and peered at the cold black liquid inside. He’d poured the drink about five hours earlier, but never found a chance to drink it. Now particles of dust were floating over the surface. “What is the big deal, Blake? It was very clear to me that the woman had no legitimate business here on the ranch. I seriously doubt she’s ever straddled a horse in her entire life. We’ll probably never see her again.”
“Wrong. I invited her to return tomorrow. And I made a personal promise to her that you’d be behaving like a human being instead of a jackass.”
Holt plunked the coffee cup back to the desktop. “Oh, hell, Blake, you have no idea how I behaved with Isabelle what’s-her-name. You weren’t there.”
“I didn’t have to be. I know how you are whenever you run out of patience. Like I said, a jackass.”
“Okay,
