The cowgirl in question by B. J. Daniels

Author:B. J. Daniels
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Man-woman relationships, Fiction - Romance, Romance: Modern, Contemporary, General, Romance - Suspense, Romance - Western, Romantic suspense fiction, Montana, Suspense, Western, Historical, Romance - Contemporary, Romance & Sagas, Fiction, Love stories
ISBN: 9780373227976
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

ROURKE STOPPED at the bank, then drove south out of town. He couldn’t believe that Kelly had the nerve to gamble with a McCall. Rourke’s blood boiled at just the thought.

But it was the comment that Kelly had allegedly made about Forrest that had cooled Rourke down. Getting mad was one thing, but it took a cool head to get even. A lesson well learned at prison.

Just miles from the Wyoming border, he turned back up into the open country to the east through a huge log arch with the words VanHorn Ranch on a sign hanging from it.

Tacked on the post was a reward poster, the newer cardboard sign already weathered and worn but the lettering still readable: Reward For Any Information About The Vandalizing Of VanHorn Property.

VanHorn had been the first to allow coal-bed methane gas wells to be drilled on his property. The whole idea hadn’t gone over well. In fact, someone had vandalized VanHorn’s wells and drilling equipment. That had been before Rourke went to prison. Brandon had told him that VanHorn was still gunning for the culprit.

VanHorn had a long memory, never forgot a slight or a wrong. Mason was like Asa that way, Rourke thought, reminded of his own father.

The first VanHorn, Houston, had come to Montana with Rourke’s great-grandfather, Jed McCall. Both men had been cattlemen, born and bred. Then the families had a falling out, with the feud continuing each generation.

Rourke wondered what Houston VanHorn would think of his descendants allowing coal-bed methane drilling to be done on his land. Maybe Houston’s ghost had vandalized the gas wells. At the very least the old man must be rolling in his grave to see the drilling rigs on VanHorn land. In that regard, Houston VanHorn had been like Asa.

Dust churned up behind the pickup as Rourke raced up the road. There were drilling units all along the road to the ranch house. In the distance, Rourke spotted a new well going in.

“There is money in methane,” Brandon had written him in prison. “Dad’s a fool to let it go to waste underground. It isn’t like the wells hurt the land.”

Good thing his brother wasn’t here with him, Rourke thought. He’d have slugged him.

At the main ranch house, Rourke turned and drove down a short road to where a group of men were breaking a horse.

From the looks of the horse in question, it was a wild mustang from down in Wyoming. VanHorn had been rounding up the mustangs for years.

Rourke got out of his pickup. He didn’t see Kelly in the group of men. He headed for the ranch office, cool and calm. At least on the surface.

He opened the door rather than knock. Burt Kelly looked up from behind a huge oak desk. The ranch foreman was tall and slim with a face like a ferret, eyes small and dark, his face pocked, his lips a thin mean line. He seemed surprised to see Rourke. It took something pretty big to get a McCall onto the VanHorn spread, given the long-running feud between the McCalls and VanHorns.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.