Texas Fierce (The Tylers of Texas 4)

Rage glittered in Ferg’s eyes. He looked ready to throw a punch. Bull shifted his feet, bracing for a fight. Ferg outweighed him by a good twenty or thirty pounds. But Bull was quicker and toughened by years of hard physical work. If his boyhood friend struck out, he’d have a fair chance of taking him.

“Stop it!” Susan cried. “You’re acting like a pair of schoolyard rowdies! I won’t have it!” She turned to Bull. “You’d better go. We’ll talk later.”

“I’m not leaving till I know you’ll be all right,” Bull said. “And as for you, Ferg, if I hear you’ve so much as laid a finger on her, you’ll answer to me.”

Ferg had taken a step back, but his face was still a mask of fury. He laughed, the sound dripping sarcasm. “Listen to the big-man talk, Susan. You probably think he’s your knight in shining armor. But I’ll tell you a dirty little secret—and I want you looking at him when you hear it.” He paused. “Go on. Look at him!”

Susan turned toward Bull, eyes wide, lips parted. Bull had no idea what Ferg was going to say. But he should have guessed. It was the thing that would hurt her most.

“Listen, and listen good, sweetheart.” Bull’s grin was pure malice. “You know that woman you were so upset about, the one I was going out at night to see? Well, Bull’s had her, too. He’s humped her plenty of times. Go on, ask him to deny it.”

Susan stared at Bull as if he’d slapped her face. He watched her expression change from shocked disbelief to hurt, and then to fury. What could he say? That he and Bonnie had meant nothing to each other? That he hadn’t been with her in nearly a year?

But the damage had been done. Nothing he could say would make a difference. Helpless to stop her, Bull watched as Susan spun away and fled into the house.

Ferg paused to give Bull a last, triumphant sneer. Then he sauntered in after her and closed the door.

* * *

Bull drove back to the ranch in a black mood. He’d expected to be celebrating his victory over Ham Prescott. That part of his visit couldn’t have gone better. But after that, Ferg had cut him down without a blow.

Susan was through with him for good; and he’d just begun to realize what she meant to him. She was a flash of golden sweetness in his drab life of worry, stress, and backbreaking work. She was like a sip of fine brandy, a fleeting taste of the quality he could never possess. She had never been his. All the same, her loss left an aching hollow that no ordinary woman could fill.

In those tough, early days on the ranch when everything seemed to be going wrong, Bonnie had been a diversion. They’d had a few laughs and parted friends. End of story. But Susan wouldn’t understand that. She was a good woman with traditional values, maybe even a virgin. A man might view a roll in the sack with a willing female as harmless fun. But to a woman like Susan, it would be the ultimate betrayal of her trust—even if it had happened in the past.

At least he wouldn’t have to tell her about the buckle bunnies who’d trolled the rodeo grounds and neighboring bars, eager for a hookup with a champion cowboy—and the times when he’d taken advantage.

He pulled the truck into the ranch yard and parked alongside the house. Jasper and Rose were out back, building a coop out of scrap wood and a roll of chicken wire they’d found in the shed. The two dogs lolled nearby in the shade of the house.

Rose waved as he got out of the truck. Bull hadn’t made a conscious decision to keep the girl around. But something told him she was here to stay. Over the past few days, she’d proven to be a willing worker, a fair cook, and a good hand with animals. She was earning her keep, Bull told himself. And as an eyewitness to her grandfather’s murder, she was his little insurance policy against any interference from Ham Prescott.

A cover had been needed to protect her identity and explain her presence on the ranch. She’d gladly agreed to pass as Jasper’s orphaned niece who’d come from the hill country to stay with him.

Rose had taken the subterfuge to heart. She tagged after her make-believe uncle like a puppy. As for Jasper, he’d begun to smile again. The grieving man and the lonely young girl were forming a genuine bond.

Bull climbed out of the truck and wandered over to join them. “So where are the chickens now?” he asked.

“In the barn,” Rose said. “We put them in the tack room. It was the only place with a door. They’ve stopped laying, but they should start again once they’re settled in the coop, with nesting boxes. You’ll like the fresh eggs.”

Bull studied the unfinished coop. “Are you sure that thing will be strong enough to keep out coyotes? One cackle will be like a dinner bell to those varmints.”

“By the time we’re done, it’ll keep out an army of coyotes,” Jasper said. “We’re even digging a trench to bury the edge of the wire a foot down, so they can’t dig under it.”

“And snakes?”

“We’re working on that. Aren’t we, Rose?”

“Snakes shouldn’t be a problem unless the hens have babies,” Rose said. “The big chickens can kill any snake small enough to get through the wire. I saw them do it a couple of times back at my grandpa’s place. They’re tough birds, and smart, not like the ones on those big farms.”

Jasper gave Bull a narrow-eyed glance. Bull knew what he was thinking. It was time to get a few things straight between them.

“Rose,” Bull said, “it’s getting close to lunchtime. Would you mind taking a break to whip us up a batch of sandwiches? I’ll help Jasper while you’re busy.”

“Sure. No problem.” She put down the hammer she was holding and hurried through the back door, into the kitchen.

Bull picked up the hammer and used it to pound down a loose nail. “I can tell you’ve got questions,” he said to Jasper. “Go ahead and ask.”

“I’m just wondering about that little girl’s property. Her granddad didn’t leave that parcel to you. He’d have wanted her to have it. So what have you done about that deed?”