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She would start planning now for the upcoming season, Tess resolved. Whirlwind and the other bulls who’d grown up on the ranch were too closely related to breed with the cows. Quicksand was young and had barely begun to build his reputation as a rank bull—which he would need to compensate for his missing bloodline.
That left Tess with two choices. She could invest in some new quality bulls or do what Lexie had urged her to do last year—buy semen to impregnate the best cows.
Both choices were expensive. Semen was like liquid gold. A single straw from a top bull, or even one of his offspring, could cost upward of a thousand dollars, plus the cost of the insemination. Even then, there was no guarantee that the procedure would work or that the calf would be a bull.
The Alamo Canyon Ranch didn’t have that kind of money to risk. If she wanted to improve her stock, she would have to swallow her pride and go to Brock for a loan.
Brock.
No matter where Tess’s thoughts took her, they always led back to him. Her rival. Her antagonist. Her partner. The man she couldn’t help loving.
She remembered yesterday’s phone conversation and the new evidence that the plane had been sabotaged. Somebody ruthless and devilishly clever wanted him dead. They’d failed twice. That there’d be a third attempt on Brock’s life was a given, not a question ofifbutwhen.
Tess had tried to put her worries aside and focus on her work today. But she was sick with fear. The hired assassin—assuming that’s what he was—could strike without warning. If Brock were to drop his guard, or worse, try to draw the killer out . . .
Tess couldn’t make herself finish the thought.
This weekend she’d be taking Quicksand and three other bulls to Prescott. Ruben would be driving with her. Brock planned to be there, as well, although they probably wouldn’t get much time together.
Since he had no plane, he would probably drive one of his vehicles and leave the trucking to his cowhands. Tess might have argued against his going. He was bound to be safer on his ranch. But she knew better than to try. Brock was proud and stubborn. He would show up and spit in his enemy’s face if need be, to show that he wasn’t afraid.
Whether she liked it or not, Tess would have to accept that. When it came to fear, she had enough for them both.
* * *
When Val carried the breakfast tray into the bedroom, she found Lexie sitting up in bed, nursing her baby. Pausing in the doorway, she took in the sight of her sister, tousled and tired but still beautiful, with the small, dark head against her breast.
Val was totally happy for Lexie, but at times like this, she was stabbed by memories of her own baby, who’d been taken away before she had the chance to feed him. In the days after the birth, her milk-swollen breasts had ached for the tug of that hungry little mouth. But she mustn’t think of that now. This was a time of celebration for the ranch family.
Lexie looked up and smiled. “Oh, you didn’t have to bring my breakfast, Val. I was going to get up and come into the kitchen as soon as I finished feeding this little rascal.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Val set the tray on a side table. “You almost died bringing that baby into the world. You’ve got a lot of healing to do before you’re fit to be up and around. Maria says you’re to eat every bite of this breakfast. She even brewed you some special herb tea. It’s in that pottery cup with the lid.”
“Oh, no!” Lexie pulled a face. “I had that yesterday. It was so bitter I could barely get it down. Please, Val. Pour it down the sink and don’t tell her.”
Val shook her head. “Maria’s people have been living on this land for hundreds of years, maybe longer. They have their own medicine, and it’s probably better than that factory-made drugstore crap. You’re going to drink every drop.”
“You were always a bossy one,” Lexie said. “Between you and Tess, I never stood a chance. I still don’t.”
“And now you’ve got a new little boss.” Val reached down and ran a fingertip over the baby’s silky head. Her own baby’s hair had been flame red. It probably still was.
The baby had finished nursing. Lexie lifted him against her shoulder and patted up a little belch. Then she handed him to Val while she closed her nightgown. “Have you heard anything from Casey?” she asked as if reading her sister’s mind.
Val carried the baby to the bassinette, his warm weight and baby smell sweet in her arms. After laying him on his back, she picked up the tray and placed it across Lexie’s knees.
“Casey’s been extra quiet,” she said. “I suspect he’s onto something and knows better than to tell me about it.”
Lexie speared a forkful of scrambled eggs with cheese. “How can you stand it, Val? If Jackson were somewhere out there in the world and I had a chance to find him, I’d never be able to resist.”
“Not even knowing that even if you found him, you’d never be able to touch him or talk to him?” Val demanded.
“Not even then,” Lexie said. “But thank heaven, I don’t have to make that decision.”
“Well, I did, and I decided not to try. If you want to know the reason, it’s because seeing him wouldn’t be enough. I’d never be able to stop myself from ruining lives. And what scares me is that if Casey finds our son, he won’t be able to stop himself either.”
“Oh, Val.” Lexie reached for Val’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry. I wish things had been different.”
“So do I.” Val felt the tears welling. “I need a break. I’ll be back to pick up the tray when you’ve finished eating. Promise me you’ll drink Maria’s tea.”
