He straightened his shoulders. "You think so, eh? Well, this 'shallow' personality has seen me through more than a few sc.r.a.pes in my day. If Reg was destined to play the martyr in our family, then surely I must be the one to play the fool."

"I'd hardly call you foolish."

"And I'll thank you for that." He tipped his hat. "I'll take my leave of you, dear lady. Until tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow." She watched him turn the horse and race across the pasture. Cam was turning out to be as big an enigma as his younger brother. Were all men so contrary? Or had the Worthingtons really cornered the market?

Reg clenched his jaw and stared at the thin parchment envelope in his hands. His father's missives were shorter these days, and increasingly demanding. Send a report on the status of the ranch, or suffer the consequences.

Come, father, why be so subtle? We both know the 'consequences' you allude to. There's nothing you'd like better than to see me fail and be forced to come home with my head hanging. It would once again prove your a.s.sessment of my character. He tucked the letter into his pocket unread and stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Pickens' Mercantile.

"Hey! Better watch where you're headed." He felt a hard shove against his shoulder and looked up into the angry, bloodshot eyes of Tuff Jackson. "Folks around here don't clear a path for you British lords and ladies," Jackson drawled.

Reg bit back a groan. As if he didn't have enough problems to deal with. "Excuse me, Jackson, I have business to attend to."

He started to step around the cowboy, but Jackson blocked his path. "Think you're too fine to waste time with the likes of me, do you?" Jackson jutted his chin in the air. "Well you and me are equal now, Lord Worthington. I'm done workin' for other folks. I'm a rancher now, same as you."

Reg's gaze flickered over his former foreman. Jackson had added a black suitcoat to his wardrobe, a coat very similar to Reg's own. Were anyone else involved, Reg might have been flattered by this bit of imitation. But Jackson's malevolent stare negated any possible feelings of good will. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, then. Now if you'll excuse me "

Tuff grabbed his arm and held him in a crushing grip. "Where are your manners? Didn't your mama teach you if you meet a neighbor on the street, you should stop and pa.s.s the time of day?"

Reg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. For whatever reason, Jackson wasn't willing to let him pa.s.s on. His gaze flickered to the hip-level bulge beneath Jackson's coat. Word around town was that Jackson had taken to carrying two loaded revolvers. Some suspected he'd crossed the line from cowboy to criminal.

A few minutes stilted conversation was preferable to a bullet in the back. "Is there something particular you wished to discuss with me?"

"I hear you've got Donnie Best doing my old job."

"Yes. Mr. Best is my new foreman."

Jackson snorted. "Can't send a boy to do a man's job. But then, I suppose the likes of you can't do any better."

"The 'likes of me.'?" Reg slipped easily into an att.i.tude of royal disdain. "What a curious expression. Some local colloquialism, no doubt."

Confusion flickered across Jackson's eyes, then his expression darkened once more. "Go ahead. Make fun of me now. But you won't be laughin' when this drought starts killing off your stock. Them foreign stockholders you represent are gonna be left with nothin' but a bunch of dead cows. That's what they get for trusting an upper-cla.s.s ignoramus to look after their investment, instead of someone like me who knows which end of a cow the chips come out of."

Reg's stomach clenched. How often had he had that very thought? Though he detested Jackson, he couldn't deny the fact that the man knew a hundred times more about the cattle business than Reg could even begin to absorb in the short time he'd been allotted to turn the ranch around. The drought only complicated matters more.

His face betrayed none of these thoughts, however. He tipped his hat to Jackson and gave a regal nod. "Thank you for that totally unsolicited opinion. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going." He shoved past Jackson this time, refusing to be held back any longer. As he strode down the sidewalk, he could feel Jackson's eyes boring into his back, and he steeled himself for the slamming impact of a bullet.

"Reg, how are you?" He started at the sensation of a gentle hand on his arm and looked up to see Abbie beside him. She peered into his face. "Is something wrong? You look upset."

He shook his head. "No. I'm quite all right." The lie felt awkward on his tongue; Abbie of all people deserved the truth from him.

"I haven't seen you in a while." She took her hand away and shoved it into her pocket. "I guess you've been busy."

He nodded, trying not to stare. G.o.d, he'd missed her. Just seeing her again gave his spirits a badly needed lift. His eyes traced the gentle arch of her neck. How could he have forgotten how delicate her features were how incredibly graceful she looked even in her mannish clothes? The curves beneath those clothes how many times in memory had he traced them again?

Don't go there, Reg, he told himself. Nothing good will come of such thoughts.

"Reg, are you sure you're all right?" She was staring at him, a frown creasing her brow.

"I am perfectly fine. Why do you keep asking?"

"I've been talking to you for a full minute and you look as if you don't understand a word I've said."

He reached up and rubbed his eyes. "I apologize, Abbie. I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"Thank you, but no."

Her frown deepened. "I thought we had a bargain," she said. "Are you backing out already?"

He sighed. "I think we've both gained all we can from our previous arrangement," he said stiffly.

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "So you think you know all there is to know about ranching already?"

He glanced around, suddenly aware they were attracting an audience. Taking her arm, he pulled her aside. "I would not deign to consider myself an expert," he said. "But you are hardly in need of my tutelage any more."

She held her left hand in front of his face. "Do you see a ring on this finger?" She waggled her ring finger at him.

He frowned. "I hardly think "

"You agreed to help me win Alan for a husband," she said. "I haven't had a proposal yet, and your year here isn't up, so I'd say our arrangement is hardly at an end."

Reluctantly, he took his hand from her arm. Touching her was too keen a reminder of how much more contact he craved with her. "Abbie, you don't need my help to attract Alan or any other man," he said. "You're a beautiful, intelligent young woman whom any man would be proud to call wife."

She raised her chin, her eyes sending him a challenge. "A bargain is a bargain," she said. "Or is an Englishman's word not as good as a Texan's?"

He stiffened. "How dare you question the sincerity of my word? I am merely pointing out that you no longer need my a.s.sistance "

"That doesn't mean you don't need mine."

"Donnie Best is helping me."

"And you think Donnie Best is a better rancher than I am? I've been herding cows since before Donnie Best was born."

"Really, Abbie, this argument is pointless. I would help you if I could, but I see no point "

"Then come to dinner tomorrow night."

He sighed. He might have known Abbie would not be put off easily. "I appreciate the invitation, but I really don't have time. I have a lot of paperwork to do."

"Alan is coming. You can give me pointers on how to handle him."

"Has it ever occurred to you, Abbie, that Alan might not be the right man for you? I agree, he is a fine man, but I am beginning to have grave doubts about his potential as a suitor. He seems to have missed seeing what is right beneath his nose for far too many years."

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Your brother, Cam, is coming. Maybe he'll help me."

"Cam is coming?" Reg choked out the words. "I didn't realize he was even invited."

"Well, of course he's invited. I'm giving the dinner as a way of welcoming him to Texas."

"He's already been here over two weeks."

"I needed time to get ready," she sniffed.

"He never said anything about it when he told me about the invitation."

"He probably didn't want to interrupt your precious paperwork." She started to turn away. "Don't worry. Cam and Alan and I will have a wonderful time without you. Do you think Cam would like the blue taffeta dress better, or the purple silk?"

"I thought the purple silk was ruined." He spoke through clenched teeth, a sudden image of purple silk being peeled back from lush b.r.e.a.s.t.s clouding his vision and making it difficult to breathe.

"Oh, Maura was able to salvage it after all. Do you think Cam would enjoy it?"

Cam didn't deserve the purple silk. He certainly didn't deserve Abbie. "What time should I be there?" he snapped.

An altogether too self-satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Seven o'clock will be fine," she said. "I'll look forward to seeing you."

She turned and strolled on down the sidewalk. Reg stared after her. He had the distinct feeling he'd just lost an important battle before he could even fire the first shot. For a woman who had so little experience with courtship, Abbie certainly seemed to know how to handle men him in particular.

The next evening, Reg emerged from the Ace of Clubs ranch house to find Cam already waiting with their horses. "Hurry, big brother. We wouldn't want to be late at a dinner where I'm to be the guest of honor." Cam grinned and flipped Mouse's reins toward Reg.

Reg caught the reins and swung up on the gray's back. He scowled at Cam, who was more dapper than ever, in a blue-striped silk waistcoat, and midnight blue suit. His eyes came to rest on a paper-wrapped bundle draped across the saddle in front of his brother. "What's that?" He pointed at the bundle.

Cam grinned and folded back the paper to reveal brilliant yellow blossoms. "Flowers. For our hostess."

"Abbie doesn't need your flowers," he growled.

"Ah, but she does." Cam smiled. "A beautiful woman always needs flowers. Abbie is beautiful, wouldn't you agree?"

"She's beautiful, and too smart to fall for your tricks and flattery." Reg turned his horse toward the Running W Ranch.

"Maybe. But I'll have such a splendid time furthering my acquaintance."

"I won't allow you to play fast and loose with Abbie's affections." Reg glared at him.

Cam' grin grew. "And what will you do to stop me, brother dear?" He laughed and spurred his horse forward, leaving Reg choking in a cloud of dust, cursing the day Cam had stepped off the train in Fairweather.

Reg reached Abbie's house in time to see Cam presenting his bouquet to her with a sweeping bow. Reg noted, with some relief, that she was dressed in a plain white shirtwaist and tailored skirt. But even in these simple clothes, she was beautiful. He couldn't deny she made his heartbeat quicken whenever he was in her presence.

She blushed and took the flowers from Cam. "Well, how kind of you, Reverend Worthington."

"Ah, ah, ah." He shook his finger at her playfully. "You must call me Cam."

"Why not discard convention altogether and address him by his childhood nickname?" Reg walked across the porch to them. He gave Cam a challenging look. "h.e.l.lo, Stinky."

Cam's cheeks flushed a satisfying scarlet, but he recovered quickly. "Pay my brother no mind," he said, turning to Abbie. "His slavish devotion to business of late has left him addled and ill-tempered."

Abbie gave Reg a curious look. "Perhaps we should all go inside." She held open the door.

"After you, dear lady." Cam put his hand on the door and motioned her ahead of him. Reg started to fall in behind Abbie, but Cam stepped neatly in front of him. "You'll get the door, won't you, Reg?" he said as he followed Abbie into the house.

Maura and Alan were already inside. Alan was carrying a platter of sliced beef from the kitchen; Maura followed with a bowl of potatoes. "h.e.l.lo Reg, Cam," Alan said. He set the platter on the table and came forward to shake hands. "Good to see you both."

"Um, why don't we all sit down, since the food's all ready." Abbie motioned toward the laden table.

"Allow me." Reg and Cam spoke simultaneously, and rushed to pull Abbie's chair away from the table. Alan grinned and held Maura's chair for her, while the two brothers awkwardly pushed Abbie's chair in behind her.

She sat at the head of the table, with Alan at the other end, Cam and Reg on either side of her, and Maura to Alan's left. "Oh dear," she said, surveying the seating arrangement. "I suppose to be proper, I should have invited another woman. I wasn't thinking."

"Think nothing of it." Cam unrolled his napkin with a flourish. "I'm sure your company is worth two of any other woman."

Reg chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning. Cam was laying it on a bit thick, wasn't he? Surely he didn't think a sensible woman like Abbie would fall for that kind of act?

He turned to Abbie for confirmation of his opinion, but found her watching Cam with a look of interest. "You must be quite popular with the ladies back home in England, Cam," she said, pa.s.sing him the plate of beef.

He smiled and nodded and started to speak, but Reg beat him to the punch. "Yes, a bit too popular at times. His flirtatious ways have gotten him into trouble more than once."

Cam's smile hardly wavered, but his eyes were telegraphing evil messages across the table to Reg, who struggled not to laugh at his brother's discomfort. "I'm sure whatever tales my brother has heard have been wildly exaggerated. In any case, I'm delighted to be in Texas."

"Sounds as if you've been enjoying yourself," Alan said. "Seems like everybody in town knows you now."

"Yes, well I do like to mingle with the natives, so to speak, wherever I go. You Texans certainly know how to make a man feel welcome. Everyone here, with one or two exceptions, has been most accommodating." He sliced into the beef on his plate. "Which reminds me, I encountered one man who positively detests you, Reg."

Reg stabbed at a potato with his fork. "I imagine that was Tuff Jackson. He's upset because I fired him."

"He's upset because you whipped his a, um, because you beat him up." Alan sent an apologetic look to Maura, who smiled in return.

"You mean you actually fought this Jackson character?" Cam leaned forward. "Whatever for?"

"It's a long story." Reg concentrated on his plate.

"Strange." Cam chewed thoughtfully, then added, "I got the impression this Jackson person was rather envious of you."

Reg looked up in surprise. "Tuff, envious of me? On the contrary he spent most of his time belaboring my ignorance and shortcomings."

"I don't know, Reg. Your brother may have a point." Alan waved his fork in the air to emphasize his words. "John Grady pretty much let Tuff run things when he had the ranch. It made Tuff mighty sore when Prescott sold the ranch to your syndicate, instead of Tuff himself."

"If Tuff wanted a ranch of his own, it seems there would be others he could buy," Reg said.

"On the other hand, perhaps Mr. Jackson envies more than your ranch," Cam observed. "Perhaps he resents your intelligence and poise, your style, as it were."

Reg shook his head. But the thought intrigued him. Could Tuff the consummate cowboy really be jealous of a 'greenhorn' like himself?