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He heard words left unsaid, maybe that Colin McCabe should have known his children as well. But this wasn’t his problem, Josh reminded himself.

Miguel came out of the barn, spied them in the courtyard, and wandered over. “Woman,” he said to Rosie, “haven’t you got nothing to do but stand around and talk?”

Rosie snorted, but her eye had softened, Josh noted, when the man walked up. “Old man, you should keep your nose to your own work and not bother about mine. Have you seen Tess?”

“Chopping wood for the stove.”

“Tell her dinner is in half an hour. Luis and Henry too.”

With that, she turned up her nose and marched inside. Miguel’s eyes followed her, and a wry smile pulled at his mouth, but all he said was, “You’ll like Rosie’s cooking. But if you know what’s good for you, don’t ever eat anything that Tess fixes. That girl can shoe a horse and ride a herd, but she sure can’t cook.”

“I won’t be here long enough for her to poison me,” Josh reminded him.

Miguel’s weatherlined face turned to granite. “You’ll stay until Tessie tells you to leave, and then leave when she tells you. And you show proper respect, hombre, with Tess and Rosie too. Likely Tess could whup you if you got uppity, but if she don’t, I will. You hear? That girl has a lot of friends, and you’re right in the middle of ’em.”

Josh raised one brow. “It’s a right friendly place, then.”

Rosie’s cooking proved to be all Miguel had boasted. Supper was fried chicken, corn, and apple pie. Everyone ate at the big table in the kitchen, including Luis and Henry. Luis, a rangy Papago Indian, was Miguel’s half brother, Josh discovered from the conversation. They shared a mother. Luis spoke little English, apparently, because both Miguel and Tess addressed him in Spanish. Henry, with ragged blond hair, pale blue eyes, and skin like leather, talked as much as he ate, and he ate a lot.

As they tucked into their supper, Tess waved toward Josh with a fork. “This here’s my new husband.”

Luis grunted something inarticulate. Henry eyed him curiously but said nothing. Apparently the men here attached as much importance to Tess’s marriage as she did.

Josh thought of the Double R, waiting in limbo until he could get back to settle David’s debt. A foreman and six hands depended on him coming back with six hundred dollars in his hand, and here he was, piddling away time on a secondrate ranch under the thumb of a crazy woman and her “friends.” What did he have to do to get her to give him his money and kick his butt off her property?

An idea occurred to him when Tess yawned and said good night, Luis and Henry ambled off to the bunkhouse, and Miguel cut half a loaf of Rosie’s bread to take with him to his bunk in the “little house” across the courtyard. “You can bunk with me,” Miguel told Josh. “Get some blankets from Rosie.”

“Nope.”

Miguel stopped halfway through cutting the bread. “Nope? What nope?”

“Nope means I’m not bunking on your floor with only a couple of thin blankets between me and the cold. I married the lady of the house. Seems I have a right to sleep wherever I want.”

“Like hell.”

But Josh had already reached the door of the room into which his “wife” had disappeared. He knocked. “You decent, sweetheart?

The door instantly flung open. Regrettably, Tess still wore her jeans and shirt, though the shirt had been untucked and now hung loosely past her hips. Her unbraided hair cascaded in a dark, shining fall down to those same hips, and she gripped a hairbrush as if it were a club. Her eyes narrowed when Josh grinned.

“What?” she demanded.

“It’s been a full day, wife. I figure I’ll turn in.”

“Go right ahead. And you can forget the sweetheart and wifey talk.”

Miguel and Rosie regarded them uneasily from the kitchen doorway, Rosie wringing her hands and Miguel wearing an incredulous expression that was almost comical. Josh began to enjoy himself.

“Is that any way for a new bride to talk?” He pushed into the room. “Good thing the bed is big enough for two.”

“You’re crazy.” Tess tried to block the way, but had about as much chance as a reed standing against a rolling boulder. His chest collided with hers, and she retreated as if she’d been burned. Josh felt a bit singed himself. Tess McCabe, for all her mannish dress and habits, definitely boasted a woman’s charms.

Miguel clumped toward their little confrontation. “I’ll tear him apart, Tessie.”

“I can fight my own fights.” Her tone stopped the man in his tracks.

“But-”

“Git, Miguel. When have I ever not been able to take care of myself?” She made the claim proudly, though her cheeks had turned pink. Josh’s grin grew wider. He would be out of here in no time.

While Tess watched Miguel and Rosie retreat, Josh sat himself on the bed and patted it. “Nice mattress,” he noted.

Tess whirled around in a onewoman tornado. “You are insane,” she hissed, low and dangerous.

He grinned nonchalantly. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m a fairly good judge of beds.”

She pointed toward the door. “Get out! Get out now!”

“A case of newlywed nerves, sweetheart?”

“Get. Out. Now!”

“It’s my understanding that married folks sleep together.”

“We are not that kind of married. And if you think that you are sleeping in this room, then you’re dumber than I first took you for. Out!”

And Tess McCabe was a good deal prettier than he’d first taken her for. Not to mention more interesting. With every furious movement her hair shimmered in the lamplight. Her face came alight with passion-cheeks aflame, eyes on fire. Not exactly the kind of passion a man likes to see in a woman, but still damned distracting.

He didn’t remove himself from the bed. “Not that kind of married, eh? I got the idea that wasn’t what you wanted the world to think.”

Those fiery eyes narrowed. She backed up a step. “That’s a threat, isn’t it?”

He just smiled. “I’m not such a bum to threaten a lady.”

“And I’m not enough of a lady to believe that load of horseshit.” But her tone became more cautious. “All right. You can sleep on the floor. In the corner.”

With deliberate insolence, he stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head. “Nope. I’ve had a hard couple of days. I fancy a night spent in a nice, soft, clean bed.”

He could almost hear her teeth grind.

“All right, rat bastard. You win. I can put up with almost anything for a few days.” She grabbed the quilt folded at the foot of the bed and jerked it from beneath his legs. Then she headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“It won’t be the first time I’ve slept in front of the fireplace.”

“That might look passing strange if one of the hands happens in.”

“I care how it looks?”

“Isn’t that what your whole scheme is all about? Looking married? Aren’t you the one willing to go to any lengths, cheating or otherwise, to get the family ranch?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly and deliberately back toward him. “I do not cheat. McCabes are straight as an arrow and twice as honest.”

Those green eyes of hers could turn remarkably hard, Josh noted happily. He gave her his most infuriating smile. He knew it was infuriating because his sister had told him so at least a dozen times.

“And I am not letting some twobit sot turn me out of my own place.”

That stung a bit, but Josh figured he might have had it coming.

Still glaring at him, she settled huffily in the room’s one chair and wrapped herself in the quilt. “Enjoy the bed,” she invited sourly. “Just don’t infest it with fleas.”

Chapter Three