Wyoming Brave (Wyoming Men #6)

He searched her pale eyes as snowflakes passed between them. “You should be exhibiting in galleries.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I might do that, when I get back home.”

Home. He felt uncomfortable at the thought of her leaving. Then he had to remind himself, again, that she was Randall’s girl. He turned the horse and started off again.

Merrie followed along behind him on the trail, feeling a little uncomfortable at the way he looked at her. He couldn’t seem to make up his mind whether he liked her or not. She wished she knew more about men.

He took her through the big barn to show her the prize bulls he kept. “They have heating and air-conditioning, and one cowboy stays with them most of the time. They’re worth a fortune.”

“They sure are pretty,” she said.

He smiled. “I think so. We breed for superior bloodlines, for conformation, weaning weight, birth weight and weight gain ratios. I took several courses in genetics when I first came back here to stay with my father. He had the practical know-how, but it took a little science to move us up the chain of purebred sires.”

“Where are the cows?” she asked innocently.

He chuckled. “Out in the pastures. We don’t put the bulls on them until they’re ready to be bred, to drop spring calves. That happens in August, so our calf crop will drop in April, when the lush grass is just coming up. Of course, we have to hope that the weather doesn’t do something crazy, like it’s doing right now.” He indicated the heavy snow falling outside the barn. “This is late October, but the temperature is unusually low, and that snow is getting deep fast.”

“It’s so beautiful.” She sighed wistfully. “We’re lucky if we get an inch of snow every ten years back home.”

“We get sick of it some years,” he mused. “We have to carry hay out to the far pastures if snow gets deep enough. Have to make sure we break the ice in the water troughs so the cattle can drink. Have to have men check the herd two or three times a day. That time doubles when we’ve got pregnant cows or, especially, heifers. Some of them have to be brought up near the barn, in case they have trouble calving.”

“It sounds very complicated.”

“It is. Complicated, and beautiful.” He looked around him. “I lived in Boston for four years while I went to college. Hated every minute that I wasn’t in class or studying.”

“I guess I’d have liked college. But I didn’t really have a career in mind like my sister did. She wanted to be a district attorney from the time she was a teenager.” She sighed. “I did get so sick of watching endless Perry Mason reruns with her,” she laughed.

“You said she was an assistant district attorney.”

“Yes. She just took her bar exam a few months ago. Passed it on the first try, too. Plenty of her classmates didn’t. I was so proud of her.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Daddy actually went to her graduation. He was away on business when I graduated from high school.”

He leaned against one of the gates, his arms folded over his sheepskin jacket. “I remember my graduation day,” he mused. “None of my family came, but my classmates and I treed a local bar afterward.”

“Sari’s classmates had a big party. Of course she couldn’t go. Daddy got furious when she even mentioned it...” Her voice trailed away. “One of her classmates was moving in with her boyfriend. Daddy called her a slut and dragged us away from her. People stared at us like we were from the ice age.”

“He didn’t think people should live together?”

“Only if they were married.” She looked up. “Mama took us to church. It was the only place outside of shopping with Daddy that we were ever allowed to go. We were raised with an old-fashioned morality. We took a lot of heat for it in school.” She touched her sweater, where the small cross lay underneath. “Religion was all we had. It kept us going through some hard times, when Daddy lost his temper.” She sighed. “It’s so nice to be someplace where I’m not watched every single minute of the day.”

“Why did your father have you watched?” he asked, curious.

“So we wouldn’t get involved with men,” she said simply. “Sari said Daddy told Paul that he didn’t want his daughter marrying some grubby little lawman.” She winced. “Paul had been with the FBI. He was the only member of his family who wasn’t involved with the mob. He was very proud. It hurt him, to have Daddy say such a thing. As if he had no worth, because he’d been in law enforcement.”

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