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“Beauty doesn’t rule out ability. Women doctors were rare in the war, but I saw plenty of pretty nurses.” Logan had seen those nurses die, too. They’d been as brave as the men they cared for. But he didn’t want to veer into that subject.
Webb settled into the chair next to the bed. “Will you be strong enough to take a car into Miles City with me on Monday? That’s assuming you still want to buy that ranch.”
“That remains to be seen, on both counts.” Logan handed the empty mug to Webb, who set it on the side table.
“I understand. You came here to settle down, and the next thing you know, some bastard is shooting at you. I wouldn’t blame you if you packed up and headed back to Texas—but of course I’m hoping you won’t. Working together, you and I could accomplish some great things—like driving the Dollarhides, with their noisy sawmill, out of business. Trust me, you won’t want to raise horses with that racket going on.”
“I’ll admit I like the property. It’s perfect for my needs. But I didn’t come here to fight a war, Webb. I got my fill of that overseas. All I want is to be left in peace.”
“And with my backing, that’s possible. We just need to settle a few scores first. After that, once people accept you as a Calder, they won’t take a step out of line—and that includes Blake Dollarhide.” Webb leaned closer to the bed. “You met that sonofabitch at the ranch, after you got shot. I’d still bet good money that he was responsible. He claimed to be working cattle all day, but he could’ve ordered one of his men to do it—maybe not to kill you, but to give you a good scare. And to hear you talk now, I’d say that’s just what he’s managed to do.”
Logan felt the anger rising in his body. He welcomed its strengthening heat. “I don’t scare easily, Webb, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. If I decide to pass on that parcel, it won’t be out of fear. It’ll be because I want to check out something else—something without so many complications attached.”
Webb rose to his feet. “Damn it, every place has complications. You can pick land around Miles City or Missoula, or anyplace you want. There’ll always be somebody else wanting it, or wanting to control it, or somebody who just plain doesn’t like your being there. But one thing you won’t have is blood kin to support you when you need help. You’ll only have that here. Think on it.”
Only as Webb turned to leave did the two men see Kristin standing in the open doorway. Logan couldn’t help wondering how much she’d heard, or whether it mattered to her.
“You told me fifteen minutes, Webb,” she said. “Have I come back too soon?”
“Not at all, my dear,” Webb said. “I was just leaving. You can have your patient back. He seems to be doing better.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She swept a tendril of hair from her fatigue-shadowed face. “He’ll still need plenty of rest. But if he’s doing better in the morning, I’ll be ready for a ride home.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Webb said.
“But if you don’t get some sleep,” Logan added, “you’ll be the patient by tomorrow. Go to bed, Kristin. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe later.” She settled onto the edge of the chair. “You’re a stubborn man. I don’t want you trying to get up. You could get light-headed, fall, and reopen your wound. Then we’d be right back where we started.”
“Is there anything else you need?” Webb asked Logan.
“Not right now. You might as well go back to bed, Webb. I’m in capable hands.”
“Fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep on what I told you.” He ambled out of the room and down the hallway. His bedroom door opened and closed with a faint click.
Logan sank back against the pillow. Kristin studied him with a knowing expression, as if waiting for him to speak.
“So how much of that conversation did you hear?” he asked her.
“Enough. But none of it surprised me. I know that Webb hates my brother and would do anything to ruin him. What I don’t know is where you stand.”
Logan took a slow breath, measuring his words. “Where would you stand if you were me, Kristin?”
“Why should it matter? You’ll do whatever suits your purpose. It’s none of my business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I’m asking because I respect your opinion. And because you know the situation and the people involved. What would you do if you were me?”
She answered without hesitation. “I would pack my bags, load my auto, and drive to someplace where I’d never have to hear the name Calder or Dollarhide again.”
Her jaw tightened as she finished speaking. Her eyes glimmered with anger—or could it be tears?
“Can you tell me why?” he asked.
“Because Webb will use you,” she said. “He’ll get you in his debt and then expect you to do anything he wants. If you refuse, he’ll find a way to make you sorry. All my brother wants to do is make a living. But you’ll be expected to stop him—cut off the road, cut off the water . . .” She shook her head. “Blake is a good man, but believe me, you don’t want him as your enemy. You think you can be neutral—treat both sides the same. But you can’t. If you buy that land, you’ll be forced to choose, and if you don’t choose Webb, heaven help you.”
Logan couldn’t help feeling touched by the passion in her voice. But she was advocating for her brother, he reminded himself. If he decided not to buy the ranch, it would be Blake Dollarhide’s for the taking.
“One more question,” he said. “Webb mentioned the racket that the sawmill would make when it starts up. He said that folks could hear it all the way into Blue Moon, and that it would spook the horses I’m planning to raise. Is that true?”
