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Goaded, she swung off Macbeth’s broad back and walked to the edge of the river. The swift current eddied and rushed over fallen trees and huge flat boulders. The air smelled fresh and damp, and if it hadn’t been for Colton and his stupid accusations, she would actually have enjoyed being there.
“So why do you think Dad did it?” she yelled as Colton sauntered to his side of the river. Only forty feet separated them, but it could have been miles. “Why not the Lassiters, the Monroes, Wilkersons or Simpsons?”
“Give me a break!”
“They’re all ranchers.”
“The wires were cut here, Cass. Here. The truck took off from Aldridge land!”
“You think! You’re not even sure that Black Magic’s been stolen.”
A thunderous expression crossed his face. “I’m sure all right.”
“Then why not someone else? Someone who knew that you’d automatically think Dad was involved?”
“No one else is your father,” Colton said through clenched teeth. “No one else has a vendetta against the McLeans.”
“A vendetta,” she gasped, incredulous. “Come on, Colton, you can’t believe—”
“What I can’t do is deny that a feud ever existed between your family and mine!”
“But a vendetta, for crying out loud! I think you’ve spent too many years dodging bullets and changing the name on your passports!” If it weren’t for the river separating them, she would have gone right up to him and slapped his angular, bearded face. “Either that or you’ve watched too many old movies!”
“Ha!”
“If, and I repeat, if your horse really has been stolen, any one of a dozen ranchers could’ve done it! Black Magic’s a bit of a legend around here. Anyone who wanted him could’ve taken hi
m and made it look like Dad was involved. After all, the feud is common knowledge.”
“You’re grasping at straws, Cass!”
“And you’re condemning my father!” Furious, she twisted Macbeth’s reins in her fingers and hopped onto the gelding’s broad back. “Get real, Colton, or go to the Middle East or some other war-torn place and leave us alone!”
“I intend to,” he said under his breath as he watched her dig her heels into the roan’s sleek sides. The horse took off with Cassie, her face flushed and furious, clinging to his back. With a clatter of hoofbeats, horse and rider disappeared into the trees. “And good riddance!” Colton growled, stalking back to the fence and ducking under the restrung wires. He snagged his jacket from the post, hooked it over his finger and swore all the way back to the truck.
Why did he let her get to him? Why couldn’t he be immune to the mocking glint in her hazel eyes, the soft curve of her cheek, the sharp bite of her tongue? He’d known a lot of women—many far more sophisticated and glamorous than Cassie—yet none of them had gotten under his skin the way Cassie Aldridge had.
Years ago he’d convinced himself he loved her, that they could make a go of it—and she’d lied to him, tried to trap him into marriage.
And yet he was still attracted to her.
“Fool,” he ground out, climbing into the cab of the truck. “Damn stupid fool!”
* * *
“That’s right. Two days ago,” Colton said, his jaw rock-hard, his fingers clenched around the telephone receiver. “The horse just disappeared.”
“And you think he was stolen?” Mark Gowan asked. He was short and stocky with fiery red hair and a keen mind. Colton had known him for years.
“The wires were snipped. No one here did it.”
“Have you talked to Ivan Aldridge?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe he was going to replace the section of fence.”
Colton’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be sure to ask him when I see him.”
