The Best Man (Blue Heron, #1)

She was smiling as she walked back to camp, but her smile vanished when she noticed a tall Indian man and a boy. Slowing her steps, she watched Dal rope one of the footsore steers, and lead it toward the Indians, his expression tight. This was the third steer so far that the Cheyenne had demanded as tribute for crossing the territory.

What she saw next infuriated her. The man and the boy left camp, leading the steer, and Jack Caldwell followed. She could guess what Caldwell was saying to the Indian.

Fists clenched, she stormed onto the range, anger blazing in her eyes. She intercepted Jack as he was turning away from the Indians, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“If I were a man, I’d kill you,” she said, spitting the words.

“Now, Fancy honey, why would you say a thing like that?” He smiled, his gaze lingering on the silky fall of hair that dropped almost to her waist. “You look beautiful today.”

“Did you tell them to come every day and demand a steer? Did you tell him to send his friends here to beg for meat?” She knew that’s what he had done. “You make me sick!”

Caldwell fell into step beside her as she whirled. “It’s not too late, Fancy. The offer is open. You can come out of this with something to show for it.”

“Even with all your cheating, at the last count we still had enough steers to win!”

“Why, darlin’, you’ve cut me to the quick.” Grinning, he placed a hand on his chest, then his expression sobered. “You aren’t going to win.” He grabbed her arm, but she shook off his hand. “I don’t care about the others, but I’d hate to see you go through this ordeal, then end up with nothing.” Stepping in front of her, he touched her face. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”

Freddy slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she warned, letting him see the frost in her eyes. “I have no feeling for you. None. You don’t want to know what I think of you.”

“If you’re betting on Frisco, you’re putting your money on the wrong man.”

“I’m putting my money on the best man,” she snapped. “I love him.”

It was the first time she’d spoken the words aloud and they rang in her ears. Surprise stiffened her shoulders, then her body relaxed. Fighting a fact didn’t make it less true. But admitting something she’d been trying to ignore didn’t make her happy either. Her gaze swung toward the remuda, where Grady and Dal were talking. Loving him complicated everything.

“By Wichita, the inheritance will have been decided,” Caldwell said. “Let me tell Lola that you’ve earned the money we’re offering you.”

Putting all her strength into it, she slapped him as hard as she could. Then she spit on the ground, sorry she missed his boots. “That’s my answer.”

From there, she went directly to Luther and told him her suspicions. “He might even have suggested a raid,” she said bitterly. “Luther, you know Jack and Lola are cheating!”

“I happen to agree with you,” he admitted. “Did you actually hear Caldwell suggest anything to the Indian?”

“No,” she conceded, her heart sinking.

Luther spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “Then all we have is more speculation. Caldwell may or may not have deliberately arranged for the loss of several cattle. And he may or may not have done so with Mrs. Roark’s knowledge.”

“Several? Luther, Jack is directly responsible for the loss of well over a hundred steers! The number is approaching two hundred!”

After examining her expression, he kicked a rock. “I’m supposed to be impartial, Freddy, but I’m not. I want to see you and Les and Alex win what I think is your rightful inheritance. If there was the slightest proof that Mrs. Roark and Caldwell are cheating as we all believe, I’d disqualify her this fast.” He snapped his fingers.

“I know you would,” she admitted with a sigh. “Damn, cheaters aren’t supposed to win!”

“They haven’t won yet,” he reminded her firmly.

But the contest was over in Jack’s mind. By the time they passed through the Indian Territory and entered Kansas, Jack believed Lola would be a clear winner. He’d make sure of it.

Before she headed for the remuda, she placed a hand on Luther’s sleeve. Like all of them, he had changed during the trip. “This is none of my business, but I’m going to say it anyway. You let Les get away once. Don’t do it again. She didn’t love Ward, and she’s not grieving his death.”

His brow lifted and he stared. “Ward was… surely you must be wrong.”

“I’m not. Ask her.”

“I couldn’t inquire about something that personal, it’s none of my…” Biting off the words, he studied her face and a red tide spread from his ears to his throat. “I’m too old for Les. Too dull and set in my ways. She couldn’t possibly be…”

Freddy rolled her eyes. Men were the most exasperating creatures in creation. “Why don’t you let Les decide? Maybe you’ll be happily surprised. I can tell you this. A faint heart never won a fair maiden.” As usual, she couldn’t recall the quotation exactly. “Things haven’t changed so much that Les is going to come courting you. You’ll have to make the first move.”

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