LITMIR.BIZ

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stiffened. “Ben never needed to be ornery. He learned fast how to sweet-talk his way in or out of everything, just like you.”

      “It comes in handy, now and again.”

      “Don’t you ever take anything seriously? Having to work for you isn’t a game to me, no matter how amusing you find it.” Hallie paced a few steps away, her back to him. “I knew Ben would get mixed up with someone like you sooner or later.”

      “I hate to break it to you, darlin’,” Jack said slowly. “Ben is someone like me.”

      “He likes to gamble, but it’s not his life. Not yet.”

      Jack looked up at her, the lightness gone from his expression. “Your brother is a born gambler,” he stated, his tone suddenly serious. “Trust me, I know one when I see one. But I can’t help that any more than I could stop him from getting in over his fool head with Redeye. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, even if they’re stupid ones.”

      “I don’t trust you.” Hallie spun around to face him. “And somehow I doubt you were too convincing when Ben wanted into that game.”

      “I’ll say this one more time, Hal. I don’t know your brother from Adam, but I’m well acquainted with his type. He might have a gambler’s soul, but he sure as hell doesn’t have a gambler’s head. I warned him he’d lose his shirt in that game and he laughed at me. You should’ve kept him home on the ranch where he belongs.”

      To Jack’s surprise her fierce scowl vanished and she jerked as if he’d struck her. “I’ve tried. Ever since Ma died, I’ve tried. It’s only gotten worse, with Pa gone, too.” She abruptly turned her head to stare blindly at the wall, her arms folded over her chest. “He wants things I can’t give him.” After a moment, she blew out a shaky breath and glanced at Jack. “And I told you, my name’s not Hal.”

      The unguarded emotion he glimpsed on her face struck Jack like a fist to the chest. He felt a spurt of anger against Ben Ryan. Probably all his life the kid had let his sister shoulder his responsibility along with her own. Ben had no idea what he had. At one point in his life, Jack recalled he would have sold his soul to know Hallie’s kind of love from anyone in his makeshift family.

      He started to raise a hand to offer a comforting touch, then stopped himself cold. He wasn’t about to make that mistake. She’d probably reach for the gun she had slung on her hip, thinking he intended to take advantage of her vulnerability.

      “Hallie, I’m sorry about what happened with Ben,” he said instead. “And your losing the ranch, too.”

      The gentleness in his voice made Hallie feel worse than before. She swallowed hard, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and not let herself get upset in front of him. “But not sorry enough to give it up.”

      His expression hardened. “No. And you know why.”

      There was nothing she could say that would make any difference now. Without a word, she went and got her horse, Grano, from the stall, saddled the Appaloosa and led him outside. She mounted up, not bothering to check if Jack followed.

      She started her horse into a gallop with a quick slap of the reins, wanting to pretend for at least a few minutes that everything she’d ever taken for granted hadn’t been lost for good.

      “Damn! Damn that good-for-nothing, smooth-talking—ouch!” Hallie yelped as the sharp pricks of cactus needles pierced the seat of her pants. She couldn’t help blaming Dakota for this even though for all she knew he was still back at the ranch.

      After her confrontation with him, she’d galloped her horse hard across the open grassland, relieved when she’d gotten to the edge of the cliffs to look back over her trail and find herself alone. After checking the grazing herd of cattle, she’d walked her horse along the rough path below the cliffs, taking a more leisurely pace back to the barn.

      But as she’d started to turn the stallion toward the pasture again her horse had suddenly whinnied and reared back, throwing her bottom-first onto a patch of prickly pear. Stunned, Hallie didn’t see the rattlesnake until it slithered off the path in front of her into a crevice in the rock. Grano she couldn’t see at all.

      Sucking in a shaky breath and letting it go in a whoosh, Hallie shifted slightly, then froze as pain sliced at her bottom.

      All at once everything—the fall and her throbbing backside, Ben, Pa’s death, losing the ranch—seemed too much.

      “This is all your fault, Jack Dakota!” she said out loud. “Everything is your fault!”

      Except it wasn’t. No matter how much she wanted it to be. Angry tears stung her eyes. She was nearly as mad at herself as she was at him. How could she have let this happen, all of it? How could she ever put it right?

      By getting yourself off this cactus for a start, she told herself. Sitting there sniveling wasn’t going to change things. And it wasn’t going to get the cactus spines out of her behind.

      Hallie braced herself and pushed upward, jerking herself up onto her knees. For a moment, she hardly dared breathe for fear any little movement would make the pain unbearable.

      Then, bent over in what felt like the most undignified position a woman could get herself into, she pulled off her bandanna, wadded it up and put it between her teeth to bite if the pain got too bad.

      One by one, she began plucking out the cactus needles.

      After the first three, she wanted to lie down and cry. But all she had to do was picture that roguish grin on Jack’s face if he ever found her in this position, and it made her bite down and yank harder.

      The sixth one stuck hard and Hallie let out a yell when she finally managed to yank it out.

      Absorbed in her task, fighting the pain, she didn’t hear the approach of a horse and rider coming fast across the open ground. Only when she lifted her face and found herself staring at a familiar pair of black boots did she realize she had an unwelcome audience.

      She spat out the bandanna and looked up into Jack’s face. “You!” Jerking to her feet, she gasped as the cactus needles sank deeper.

      Jack knelt in front of her at once and grabbed her by the shoulders, preventing her from moving. “Keep still or you’ll kill yourself before you get your shot at me.”

      “Just go away!”

      “Right, and leave you by yourself, full of cactus needles. What were you trying to do here?”

      “Oh, hush up. And leave me alone! I don’t need your help.”

      “Oh, I can see that.” Jack considered the situation and decided she’d been in the best position possible to get the needles out when he’d found her. “I think you’d better just bend over again and let me pull them out.”

      “I said I don’t need your help!”

      “Stop being so damned stubborn, woman. If you don’t get rid of those soon, you’re going to be begging me to shoot you just to end your misery.” Picking up the bandanna, he rolled it tightly and offered it to her again. “Here, you’re going to need this. Now turn around. You can plot my murder while I’m pulling them out.”

      With fury, loathing and humiliation swelling in her until she swore she’d explode, Hallie ground her teeth against the bandanna and bent over. Even accepting Jack Dakota’s help had to be better than this pain.

      Ignoring her provocative position and the small, heart-shaped curve of her backside, Jack forced himself to concentrate solely on the task at hand. One by one, with tender force, he tugged the needles from the seat of her pants.

      At first she muttered curses in his direction, but by the time he finally wrested the last needle free, her anger had muted to whimpers.

      “Okay, that’s the last of it, sweetheart,” Jack said.

      Gently, he helped her straighten. Something twisted in his chest when he

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