Rancher And Protector. Judy Christenberry

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      Rosemary jotted lists, which was how she normally organized large projects at work. By the time Sara Beth finished the dishes, they had everything organized.

      At least Rosemary hoped so. The roundup was too important. If she couldn’t pull it off, she’d lose the only home she’d ever known. And she would know she’d failed her mother. Linda Wilson would’ve expected her to keep the ranch in the family. The Bar G was named after her mother’s family, the Gables. They were long on hard work but short on sons to carry on the ranching tradition. That left it up to Rosemary.

      As for her father, she wasn’t sure she knew what he would’ve wanted. After all, he’d sold the ranch.

      She asked herself over and over why her father hadn’t at least discussed such a big decision with her. She’d come home for the weekend only a couple of weeks before his fatal heart attack.

      They’d spent some time together on horseback and talked about her mother. It had been a special weekend. She’d remembered reiterating her promise to come home if he needed her. He’d looked a little tired, but she hadn’t thought much about it, as ranching wasn’t an easy life.

      But it was a life she loved. She’d only gone to Cheyenne in the first place because her father had told her she needed to use her degree for at least a couple of years. She’d enjoyed her job and had learned a lot in Cheyenne. But her heart was here, on the ranch.

      The memories of her mother and the times they’d shared had happened on the ranch. Her mother had taught her to cook, of course. But they’d also ridden together, though her mother had left the running of the Bar G to Robert, Rosie’s father.

      Then, after her mother’s death, which had been devastating for a young teenager, she’d turned to her father, and had trailed after him all over the ranch. Though he’d always been disappointed that his only child was a daughter, not the son he’d wanted so desperately, he’d taught her all those things he would’ve taught a son. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d learned them, along with rules he wouldn’t have taught a son. Rule number one: Tears were forbidden.

      But Robert Wilson wasn’t here now, and she choked back those forbidden tears.

      How could she survive without those memories? Without the ranch? She loved it here with the rolling hills, the mountain peaks in the distance. She loved being away from the city, where she could get up in the morning and look out her window and see blue skies all the way to the mountains.

      So once again the question was why hadn’t her father at least told her?

      She’d discovered he’d used Jason Barton’s down payment to pay off debts and set aside the rest to pay for his funeral. There wasn’t much left. She hadn’t wanted to give Jason Barton a discount on the price of the ranch, but she couldn’t blame him for not giving her the month with nothing in return. She knew how powerful men like him operated. They always had to get something in return.

      It was the stipulation he’d made that bothered her most of all. She didn’t want to spend the two weeks of the roundup with the man. He was too handsome, too powerful, too…she didn’t know what.

      From her initial response to him, she knew it would take a lot of energy to resist that charming smile. Better to be angry with him than to let him get under her skin. She could lose her ranch and her heart if she wasn’t careful.

      Monday morning, Rosemary was up early. She had her breakfast at five-thirty and then gathered her bedroll and saddlebags, along with her father’s rifle, and hurried out to mount up. She certainly wasn’t going to be late.

      But first she had to tell Sara Beth goodbye. “Thanks for all your work, Sara Beth.” Just fifty years old, the woman was tall, attractive, with a slightly rounded figure. Her hair, blond with only a few strands of gray, rested in a mound atop her head.

      “Child, you just be careful,” Sara Beth replied. “And keep an eye on Wes. He still thinks he’s a youngster, but he turned fifty-one last birthday.”

      “I know, Sara Beth. I’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

      “All right. Hurry home. I’m going to miss both of you.”

      Rosemary gave her a hug and then hurried out to the barn, where she could see Wes talking to a couple of men. They looked like cowboys, but Wes hadn’t mentioned hiring anyone new.

      When she reached the small group, she was shocked to see that one of the men was Jason Barton. He looked even better in well-worn jeans than he had in his designer suit and silk tie. Beside the barn was an expensive horse trailer attached to a dual-cab truck.

      “Ms. Wilson,” Jason Barton said in acknowledgment of her appearance.

      She nodded in return. He wanted to keep it formal? That was fine with her. She looked to Wes to introduce her to the other man.

      He did. “Rosie, this is Ted Houston, Jason’s ranch manager. He’s going with us, too, as you know.”

      She nodded again. “Fine. Are we ready?”

      “Yeah, the boys have the horses ready. Your horse is tied to the corral, with the others.”

      “Is Cookie packed up and ready?”

      “Yeah, he’s already left. He’s going to set up camp for us halfway there. We should make camp about four this afternoon.”

      “Good. Then let’s mount up.”

      Without waiting for an answer, she turned toward the corral. Maggie, the sorrel mare she’d been riding since she was sixteen, stood waiting. Rosemary untied the reins, put her things on the saddle and then petted Maggie before she mounted.

      Alongside Maggie was a gelding, large, strong, able to carry a big man like Jason Barton. A few days ago she’d faced him in spike heels, but today, in her cowboy boots, as was he, he towered over her.

      As she swung into the saddle, he moved to the gray’s side. Swinging into the saddle with great ease, he backed the horse up and moved in Wes’s direction.

      “Nice mount,” she said quietly.

      “Thanks. Shadow and I have been together for a few years.”

      “Did you bring a second mount?” All of her employees had two mounts for the roundup because of the hard work.

      “Yes, both Ted and I brought two mounts.”

      “Good. Take it from me, Mr. Barton. You’ll need them.”

      Jason followed the woman up to the group of cowboys already assembled. He introduced himself to all of them, though he’d met some of them when he’d come to look at the ranch. He also introduced Ted.

      But his gaze followed Ms. Wilson’s movement. He’d been shocked by her appearance this morning. Gone was the makeup, the earrings, the designer suit and especially the spike heels. Even her hair was different. It was in a braid down the center of her back. Not only was she simply dressed, but none of her attire looked new. She acted as if this was a normal activity she’d been doing all her life.

      He hadn’t expected her to be experienced, but she sat СКАЧАТЬ