LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Damn that Seamus. Don’t you see what that scheming old devil was up to? He figured he’d throw you and his bastard grandson together and let nature take its course.”

      “Seamus may have been autocratic about a lot of things, but he wouldn’t go so far as to pick out a husband for me.”

      “Why not? He tried to force Colleen to marry my old man. He and Seamus even shook hands on a deal. Dad would marry Colleen and take over the ranch when Seamus kicked the bucket.”

      “That’s a lie! I don’t believe you.”

      “Believe it or not, it’s true. Hell, Willie, the old coot was a control freak. It bugged the hell outta him that Colleen escaped, so he dangled the ranch in front of her bastards to rein them in. And you’re the honey that sweetens the trap. That’s the only reason he bothered to include you in his last will.”

      The statement hit her like a slap in the face. Willa trembled with anger and hurt…and uncertainty. “Get out of here!” she stormed. “Get off this ranch this minute.”

      “Willa?”

      Her head snapped around, and she realized that her raised voice had drawn Zach’s attention. He tossed the rope he had just wound into a neat coil onto the tailgate of his truck and took a couple of steps in their direction. “Is there a problem?”

      She didn’t know which stung the most—Lennie’s disgusting insinuations, or having Zach come to her aid.

      “No. There’s no problem. Mr. Dawson was just leaving.”

      Lennie’s mouth tightened and his face flamed an angry red. Clearly he did not take kindly to being dismissed. He stared at Willa for a long time, his gaze flickering now and then to the other man. Though Zach’s stance was deceptively casual and loose there was no doubt that he was braced for trouble.

      “Dammit, Willa—”

      “Goodbye, Lennie.”

      A muscle twitched in his cheek. He swore and reached for the door handle again but hesitated when Zach moved closer.

      “All right, all right. I’m going.” He twisted the key in the ignition and the truck roared to life. “You’re obviously too emotional to discuss this rationally. When you’ve calmed down, think about what I said. You’ll see that I’m right.”

      “Don’t hold your breath.”

      Lennie stomped on the accelerator and the pickup fish-tailed as he spun it into a U-turn. Gunning the engine, he tore out of the ranch yard, his tires rudely kicking up dirt and gravel.

      Watching the truck shoot up the road at breakneck speed, Willa experienced an odd mixture of fury and disquiet. Lennie was a hothead. She and everyone else around Clear Water had witnessed his temper many times, but she had paid no more attention to his tantrums than she would a small child’s. This time, though, she had seen something wild and dangerous simmering in his eyes, and that glimpse had sent an icy trickle down her spine. It galled her to admit it, but she was certain if Zach hadn’t been there Lennie would not have let her order him off the ranch.

      “Was that guy giving you a hard time, or was that just a lovers’ quarrel?”

      The question made her jump, and she was even more startled to realize that Zach now stood just behind her left shoulder. Willa was shorter than most men, but he seemed to tower over her, topping her five foot three inches by almost a foot. She was suddenly, uncomfortably aware of his broad shoulders and lean, muscular build, that raw masculinity that surrounded him like an aura, and her nerves began to jitter.

      She stepped away and gave him a cool look. “Neither. Lennie Dawson is a neighbor. His father owns the Bar-D, the ranch that borders us to the east. I’ve known him since I was six.”

      “Mmm,” Zach replied, watching the red pickup disappear over the crest of the hill. “Has he always had a bad temper?”

      Willa stiffened, and immediately her anger with Lennie transferred to Zach. “Look, I can handle Lennie. In the future just mind your own business.”

      Zach shrugged. “Fine by me. I was just trying to help.”

      “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you.” She spun away and stomped back to the barn.

      Watching her, Zach shook his head. That’s where you’re wrong, lady, he thought. You need me, all right. Like it or not, you need me and J.T. and Matt to hold on to this place.

      Everything about the woman radiated anger, from those snapping violet eyes to her rigid spine to the defiant set of her jaw. Though on the small side, she was beautifully proportioned, and her leggy stride ate up the ground. Today all that ebony hair was confined in one long braid as thick as his wrist, which bounced and swayed against her backside with each furious step.

      He could understand her anger—up to a point. She felt cheated and ill-used, and who could blame her? In her place, he’d feel the same. Seamus had strung her along with false promises, and after putting up with his foul temper and rigid control for most of her life, losing three-quarters of the Rocking R to strangers, never mind that they were the rightful heirs, had to have been a low blow. Discovering that without them she would have lost it all must have been even more galling.

      Hell, he couldn’t blame her for resenting them. Seamus was the real villain in all this, but the old bastard was gone, and her fury needed a live target.

      Okay, he could live with that for a while. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d cut her some slack. At least until the raw hurt eased enough for her to gain a little perspective and look at the situation fairly.

      Willa entered the barn muttering a litany of colorful epithets aimed at Zach, Lennie, Seamus and men in general. Sitting on a nail keg in the sunshine spilling in through the open double doors, Pete cast her a cautious glance, then wisely went back to stitching the saddlebag he was repairing.

      “How dare Lennie accuse Seamus of using me to further his own agenda,” she snarled as she paced to the far end of the barn. “How dare he! Idiot. Jerk. Hopeless Neanderthal!”

      True, Seamus may not have loved her as his own flesh and blood, as she’d so desperately wanted, but he had accepted her as his stepdaughter and assumed responsibility for her, honoring that obligation even after her mother’s death.

      Willa had been only fifteen at the time. Seamus could have shipped her off to live with distant relatives, but he had not been a man to shirk his duty.

      Still, the sad truth was, Seamus had been perfectly capable of scheming to make a match between her and Zach. Was that why he had made her a beneficiary in his last will? So propinquity could do its work? He’d clearly had no intention of leaving her any portion of the ranch until after his grandsons showed up.

      Seamus may have resented Zach and his brothers, but they had the Rafferty blood that had been so important to him and she had the experience and dedication and love for the Rocking R. If her stepfather had gotten it into his head that a marriage between her and Zach would benefit the ranch, he would have schemed and manipulated to make it happen.

      In all things, Seamus had always been so absolutely certain that his way was the right way that he would not have considered such a maneuver wrong. Or insulting to her. Willa snorted. He probably would’ve thought he was doing her a favor.

      “Well, if that was Seamus’s plan, it’s doomed to failure,” she swore. “By heaven, I won’t be anyone’s brood mare.

      “Men!” she spat, earning another wary look from Pete.

      Though she’d paced the barn’s cavernous length three times, fury still bubbled inside her. Finally she picked up a pitchfork and attacked the stalls, even though they had been mucked out only that morning.

      She worked steadily for a couple of hours, until her shoulders ached and the muscles in her arms quivered from the strain. After the stalls were clean and spread with fresh hay she filled the

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