load of laundry and killed another hour with some light housekeeping. As the sole occupant of the ranch house, Brandee only had her cook and cleaning woman, May, come in a couple times a week.
Standing in the middle of her living room, Brandee surveyed her home with a sense of near despair and cursed Maverick. If she found out who was behind the blackmail, she’d make sure they paid. In the meantime, she had to decide what to do. She sank down onto her couch and pulled a cotton throw around her shoulders.
Her choice was clear. She had to pay the fifty thousand dollars and resign from the Texas Cattleman’s Club. As much as it galled her to give in, she couldn’t risk losing her home. She pictured the smug satisfaction on the faces of the terrible trio and ground her teeth together.
And if Maverick wasn’t one or all of them?
What if she’d read the situation wrong and someone else was behind the extortion? She had no guarantee that if she met the demands that Maverick wouldn’t return to the well over and over. The idea of spending the rest of her life looking over her shoulder or paying one blackmail demand after another appalled Brandee. But what could she do?
Her thoughts turned to Shane once more. What if she could get him to give up his claim to the land? She considered what her father would think of the idea and shied away from the guilt that aroused. Buck Lawless had never cheated or scammed anyone and would be ashamed of his daughter for even considering it.
But then, Buck had never had to endure the sort of environment Brandee had been thrust into after his death. In her mother’s house, Brandee had received a quick and unpleasant education in self-preservation. Her father’s position as ranch foreman had meant that Brandee could live and work among the ranch hands and never worry that they’d harm her. That hadn’t been the case with her mother’s various boyfriends.
She wasn’t proud that she’d learned how to manipulate others’ emotions and desires, but she was happy to have survived that dark time and become the successful rancher her father had always hoped she’d be. As for what she was going to do about Shane? What he didn’t know about his claim on Hope Springs Ranch wouldn’t hurt him. She just needed to make sure he stayed in the dark until she could figure out a way to keep her land free and clear.
At Bullseye Ranch’s main house, Shane sat on the leather sofa in the den, boots propped on the reclaimed wood coffee table, an untouched tumbler of scotch dangling from the fingers of his left hand. Almost twenty-four hours had gone by since Brandee had called to thank him for finding her a horse and he’d been thinking about her almost nonstop. She’d sounded wary on the phone, as if expecting him to demand something in return for his help. It wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but it was pure Brandee.
What the hell was wrong with the woman that she couldn’t accept a kind gesture? Well, to be fair, he hadn’t acted with pure altruism. He did want something from her, but it wasn’t what she feared. His motive was personal not business. Would she ever believe that?
His doorbell rang. Shane set aside his drink and went to answer the door. He wasn’t expecting visitors.
It was Brandee standing on his front porch. The petite blonde was wearing her customary denim and carrying a bottle wrapped in festive tissue. She smiled at his shocked look, obviously pleased to have seized the upper hand for the moment.
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