A Rancher's Vow. Patricia Rosemoor

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СКАЧАТЬ Cardona—The developer was looking for his next land acquisition.

      Vernon Martell—The neighboring rancher had no scruples when it came to increasing the size of his spread.

      Hugh Ruskin—The bartender knew more than he should about everyone in town.

      To my editor, Angela Catalano, for her patience

       and understanding.

      Thanks to my writing friends who went beyond the

       call of duty and got me where I needed to be— Catherine Andorka, Sherrill Bodine, Arlene Erlbach, Cheryl Jefferson, Jody Lowenthal, Jude Mandell, Sue Myers, Rosemary Paulas and Elaine Sima.

      And special thanks to Linda Sweeney for jogging

       my brain when it stalled out.

      Contents

       Prologue

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Epilogue

      Prologue

      Silver Springs, New Mexico

      Curly-Q Ranch

      For a moment, he glanced at Prudence Prescott Quarrels, who did look beautiful, he supposed, as all brides should on their wedding day.

      “Congratulations!” He slapped the groom on the back. “You have yourself some new wife there.”

      “Thanks.” Grinning like an idiot, Chance Quarrels pumped his hand. “I think so, too.”

      “So what are your plans? Where are you gonna settle down?”

      “Right here on the Curly-Q, of course.”

      “Hmm. I thought your pa had a full house right now, with your brother Bart and his kids.”

      “We’ll be staying with Pru’s sister until we work something out.” Chance was obviously distracted. “Listen, I’d better get back to Pru before she accuses me of deserting her again.”

      “You go on then.”

      Smiling to himself, he watched the unsuspecting cowboy hurry to his new wife’s side—he was a fool in love with no thoughts but those prompted by his youthful libido.

      They would all be unsuspecting today, he knew, looking around at the crowd of more than a hundred. A day of celebration. Of giving thanks.

      No one would be thankful before the night ended, however. He’d see to that.

      He chuckled to himself as he moved to his vehicle through the knots of relatives and friends and neighbors, well-wishers all. They were also lambs, so to speak, without a suspicious thought in their heads.

      And why should there be any doubt-sayers on such a glorious mid-November day?

      He swept his gaze over the grounds until he found his real quarry. Emmett Quarrels. Look at him smiling, puffing out his chest in pride…

      The fear of God had not been put into the old man yet. Unbelievable as it seemed, Quarrels was not getting the message that his situation was serious.

      This message would be closer to home and delivered right under his nose. Under everyone’s noses. He’d be right in their midst and no one would be able to point a finger his way. No one would even suspect him.

      That was the beauty of his plan.

      From the back of his vehicle, he dug out the special wedding present that he’d hidden under a tarp and strolled along the buildings with the elegantly wrapped package tucked under one arm. No one even looked at him twice.

      A very unique wedding present, indeed, he thought with a wry laugh.

      They’d all get a blast out of it later.

      Chapter One

      The dog’s eyes no longer held suspicion when they gazed at him, but still she remained curled on the floor, shoulder wedged against the passenger seat, as Reed Quarrels pulled his truck onto the washboard dirt road that signaled the start of Curly-Q land.

      He soon stopped, hopped out and swung open the metal pipe-and-wire gate to his past.

      The dog limped along behind him and stopped to sniff around a twisted cypress. Reed didn’t rush her. Who knew how long she’d been starving and sick and wounded. He didn’t mind giving her a few minutes of privacy.

      Fetching a jug of water from the back of the truck, Reed poured himself a cup. He took a long swallow and looked out over the New Mexican land he hadn’t seen in more than a year and which, a lifetime ago, he had mistakenly assumed would be his to run. He’d smartened up more than a dozen years ago, though, and had gone his own way.

      Worn cedar and barbed-wire fences surrounded yellowing grasses. A handful of mostly white-faced cattle grazed nearby, and there were more, he knew, in the canyon below. Nearly sixty thousand acres of rich, volcanic-based grasslands as far as the eye could see were broken down into manageable, gated pastures. Reed swept his gaze over the high desert country—almost seven thousand feet—across the long-deserted mining area in the foothills, to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the distance.

      Closer—only a few feet away—the dog was staring at him expectantly. Reed СКАЧАТЬ