LITMIR.BIZ

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laid out a perfect step-by-step course of action for her. But had she listened? No. She was playing a game she couldn’t handle.

      She should have listened to him.

      But what the heck, this could still prove more entertaining than an evening drinking beer at Shannon Blake’s party. And he might still get what he wanted in the end.

      “So what are y’all’s plans for the summer?” Ellen asked with a brightness that sounded exaggerated and an ease her tight muscles against Kent’s side denied.

      Ellen was crazy in love with Kyle. That was plain to see on her face even though she was trying hard to ignore him. Kyle was gaga over Ellen, too, even though he was pretending she was nothing more than a weed at the moment. Garth had had to suffer through enough of Kyle’s fawning to know.

      Kent started to get up, but she hung on to his arm. The straitlaced Makepeace didn’t want to let Ellen use him to get to Kyle, but he was also too accommodating to hurt a lady’s feelings, whether she deserved it or not.

      “Kent’ll be a gatekeeper at the state park,” Kyle sneered. He hurled a pebble into the river. It splashed and was swallowed without even a ripple. “Safe. Solid. Dependable. Sound familiar?”

      Yeah, that sounded like Kent all right. How he could find such dull work interesting was beyond Garth’s comprehension. “Better you than me. Sounds boring.”

      “You got it wrong, Garth. He’ll be right in his element. Smokey the Bear will get to lecture everyone who makes the mistake of wanting a camping vacation.” Kyle tipped back his head and howled at his own joke.

      “What’s wrong with wanting people to be safe?” Ellen asked with much more intensity than the comment deserved.

      “They don’t want to be safe. They want to have fun.”

      Ellen’s hold on Kent’s arm tightened. Her face was an indignant scrunch.

      “Let it go,” Kent said between gritted teeth.

      “I can’t.”

      “That’s right, Kent. She can’t let go. She’ll cage even someone as stodgy as you in the end.” Without looking at Ellen, Kyle launched another missile into Red Thunder. The body English behind the motion told a story a mile long.

      Garth licked the fry salt from his fingers. A mule facing a wall. He’d been right. Kyle wasn’t ready to kiss and make up yet.

      “It’s not the job, Kyle,” she said.

      “Then what is it?”

      She blushed a deep shade of red. Her gaze darted from Kent to him. “Can’t we talk in private?”

      “Hey, you’re the one who came barging in uninvited.”

      Ah, there it was. Body language never lied. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? So they’d done it and innocent little Ellen was a virgin no longer. Funny how Kyle hadn’t mentioned that bit of news. He was usually more than eager to brag about his conquests. What would the sheriff say if he knew his precious daughter was no longer pure? Garth filed away the tidbit.

      So Ellen had finally given herself to Kyle and was having a hard time accepting her lover’s imminent departure to a ranch out in West Texas. Not that he blamed her. Kyle had a way of attracting trouble. If she weren’t around, she probably figured some of that trouble would be of the female persuasion. She’d more than likely be right. Kyle lived the cowboy image to the hilt—from hat to boots to horse—and the girls did swoon over his dark good looks when he was all dudded up and riding his flashy black horse. Those high cheekbones, those blacker than black eyes, that singular stamp of pride made a Makepeace stand out from a crowd and attracted women like flies to honey.

      But if that’s all Ellen saw, she was missing the most important element. Once Kyle made something his, there was no taking it back—which was the only reason Garth hadn’t made a move on her himself. As pretty as she was, she wasn’t worth getting his eye blackened or his lip fattened because Kyle had trouble controlling his temper. Too bad Ellen didn’t understand that. Or maybe it was good. Maybe while Kyle was gone, he’d finally get a shot at her.

      The going would be good for Kyle. He was too much of a dreamer and needed a little dose of reality. A summer sweating on the range would see to that. Then maybe Garth could talk some sense into him. Owning the ranch would be much more satisfying than working it. Once Kyle had a taste of hard labor, maybe he wouldn’t be so hesitant to spend the trust fund that would be his when he reached twenty on one of Garth’s plans. Oil, lumber, cattle, horses, real estate. He’d get back the fortune his father had squandered.

      Let him go, he wanted to say to Ellen. He’ll come back. Garth quirked a smile. I’ll help you get over the heartache, darlin’. That had been the whole idea behind inviting Ellen to join them tonight.

      Kent was looking ill at ease as he gently tried to extricate himself from Ellen’s hold. But she just hung on to him as if he were a lifeline and she was drowning. She should have played it the way he’d told her.

      Without letting go of Kent’s arm, she snapped her head and an overbright smile toward him. “What about you, Garth? What are your plans for the summer?”

      He was glad to oblige. This situation was proving more entertaining than any drag race by the reservoir. “My uncle wants me to help him out with his real estate business. Says I’ve got charisma and charisma is important for attracting business.” He flashed her a grin to prove his point, saw Kent roll his eyes.

      “Your uncle’ll probably have you doing all the grunt work,” Kyle said, peppering the river with a handful of stones.

      Ellen ignored Kyle. “Why, that’s wonderful, Garth! Since you’re aiming to get yourself a degree in business administration, it’s right up your alley.”

      An in with the scholarship committee guaranteed him a free education. And Garth didn’t plan on doing grunt work for long. Unlike his father who’d struck out in too many directions without thought, Garth knew exactly what he was after. His planning and dedication had already shown him many shortcuts on the path to success. Give him a few years, and he was going to explode to the top. And like the river, nothing could stop him.

      Soon the Ramsey name would no longer stand for his father’s failures, but for Garth’s own success. People wouldn’t snigger behind his back anymore; they’d respect him and look up to him.

      “You done?” Kent asked Garth as he gathered the remnants of their fast-food dinner.

      “What’s your hurry?” The tension between Kyle and Ellen was just getting interesting. He did like watching a good fight. And if it was good enough, he’d have a sobbing Ellen to console on the way home.

      “I forgot I promised John Henry I’d stop by the Feed and Seed and pick up the oats he ordered. Come on. I’ll need your help loading.”

      Yeah, right, and if I believe that, you’ve got a jackalope ranch to sell me. John Henry had no more ordered oats than he’d held down a steady job since his accident at the sawmill ten years ago.

      Ellen latched onto the hem of Kent’s T-shirt. “Kent…”

      “Talk to him,” he whispered.

      “He’s past listening to me,” she murmured back, placing both her hands on Kent’s chest. “You talk to him, please, Kent. He listens to you.”

      From Garth’s vantage point, the touch looked mighty intimate—almost like a lover’s caress. Kyle didn’t miss it either or the way his brother and his girl stood, hip bumping into hip. Kyle could easily mistake her arms wound around Kent’s neck and the pleading look in her eyes as a come-on, especially in his foul mood.

      “This is between you and him.”

      “What are you two hatching?” Kyle asked. His fingers were flexing. His gaze narrowed. He was spoiling for a fight. Garth leaned back, ready to watch the spectacle.

      “Nothing.”

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