Christmas with the Rancher: The Rancher / Christmas Cowboy / A Man of Means. Diana Palmer

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      “Oh, my, chance would be a fine thing, wouldn’t it?” she asked wistfully. “I mean, I guess I could hire an off-duty army unit to come out here and spend the next week trying to run him down.” She gave him a droll look. “If you and your men can’t catch him, how do you expect me to catch him?”

      “I caught him the first day he was here,” he reminded her.

      “Yes, but that was three months ago,” she pointed out. “And he’d just arrived. Now he’s learned evasion techniques.” She frowned. “I wonder if they’ve ever thought of using roosters as attack animals for the military? I should suggest it to someone.”

      “I’d suggest you find some way to keep him at home before I resort to the courts.”

      “You’d sue me over a chicken?” she exclaimed. “Wow, what a headline that would be. Rich, Successful Rancher Sues Starving, Female Small-Rancher for Rooster Attack. Wouldn’t your dad love reading that headline in the local paper?” she asked with a bland smile.

      His expression was growing so hard that his high cheekbones stood out. “One more flying red feather attack and I’ll risk it. I’m not kidding.”

      “Oh, me, neither.” She crossed her heart. “I’ll have the vet prescribe some tranquilizers for Pumpkin to calm him down,” she said facetiously. She frowned. “Ever thought about asking your family doctor for some? You look very stressed.”

      “I’m stressed because your damned rooster keeps attacking me! On my own damned ranch!” he raged.

      “Well, I can see that it’s a stressful situation to be in,” she sympathized. “With him attacking you, and all.” She knew it would make him furious, but she had to know. “I hear Odalie Everett went to Italy.”

      The anger grew. Now it was cold and threatening. “Since when is Odalie of interest to you?”

      “Just passing on the latest gossip.” She peered at him through her lashes. “Maybe you should study opera…”

      “You venomous little snake,” he said furiously. “As if you could sing a note that wasn’t flat!”

      She colored. “I could sing if I wanted to!”

      He looked her up and down. “Sure. And get suddenly beautiful with it?”

      The color left her face.

      “You’re too thin, too flat-chested, too plain and too untalented to ever appeal to me, just in case you wondered,” he added with unconcealed distaste.

      She drew herself up to her full height, which only brought the top of her head to his chin, and stared at him with ragged dignity. “Thank you. I was wondering why men don’t come around. It’s nice to know the reason.”

      Her damaged pride hit him soundly, and he felt small. He shifted from one big booted foot to the other. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said after a minute.

      She turned away. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him.

      Her sudden vulnerability hurt him. He started after her. “Listen, Madeline,” he began.

      She whirled on her booted heel. Her pale eyes shot fire at him. Her exquisite complexion went ruddy. Beside her thighs, her hands were clenched. “You think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you? Well, let me tell you a thing or two! You’ve traded on your good looks for years to get you what you want, but it didn’t get you Odalie, did it?”

      His face went stony. “Odalie is none of your damned business,” he said in a soft, dangerous tone.

      “Looks like she’s none of yours, either,” she said spitefully. “Or she’d never have left you.”

      He turned around and stomped back to his truck.

      “And don’t you dare roar out of my driveway and scare my hens again!”

      He slammed the door, started the truck and deliberately gunned the engine as he roared out toward the main highway.

      “Three days they won’t lay, now,” Maddie said to herself. She turned, miserable, and went up the porch steps. Her pride was never going to heal from that attack. She’d had secret feelings for Cort since she was sixteen. He’d never noticed her, of course, not even to tease her as men sometimes did. He simply ignored her existence most of the time, when her rooster wasn’t attacking him. Now she knew why. Now she knew what he really thought of her.

      Great-Aunt Sadie was waiting by the porch screen door. She was frowning. “No call for him to say that about you,” she muttered. “Conceited man!”

      Maddie fought tears and lost.

      Great-Aunt Sadie wrapped her up tight and hugged her. “Don’t you believe what he said. He was just mad and looking for a way to hurt you because you mentioned his precious Odalie. She’s too good for any cowboy. At least, she thinks she is.”

      “She’s beautiful and rich and talented. But so is Cort,” Maddie choked out. “It really would have been a good match, to pair the Everett’s Big Spur ranch with Skylance, the Brannt ranch. What a merger that would be.”

      “Except that Odalie doesn’t love Cort and she probably never will.”

      “She may come home with changed feelings,” Maddie replied, drawing away. “She might have a change of heart. He’s always been around, sending her flowers, calling her. All that romantic stuff. The sudden stop might open her eyes to what a catch he is.”

      “You either love somebody or you don’t,” the older woman said quietly.

      “You think?”

      “I’ll make you a nice pound cake. That will cheer you up.”

      “Thanks. That’s sweet of you.” She wiped her eyes. “Well, at least I’ve lost all my illusions. Now I can just deal with my ranch and stop mooning over a man who thinks he’s too good for me.”

      “No man is too good for you, sweetheart,” Great-Aunt Sadie said gently. “You’re pure gold. Don’t you ever let anyone tell you different.”

      She smiled.

      When she went out late in the afternoon to put her hens in their henhouse to protect them from overnight predators, Pumpkin was right where he should be—back in the yard.

      “You’re going to get me sued, you red-feathered problem child,” she muttered. She was carrying a small tree branch and a metal garbage can lid as she herded her hens into the large chicken house. Pumpkin lowered his head and charged her, but he bounced off the lid.

      “Get in there, you fowl assassin,” she said, evading and turning on him.

      He ran into the henhouse. She closed the door behind him and latched it, leaned back against it with a sigh.

      “Need to get rid of that rooster, Miss Maddie,” Ben murmured as he walked by. “Be delicious with some dumplings.”

      “I’m not eating Pumpkin!”

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