The Texas Ranger's Heiress Wife. Kate Welsh

It’s not what you said you wanted in the West.”

      “Because of what your guardian tried to do to me.”

      She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Franklin Gowery lied to the law. They were going to arrest you because he did. You were completely innocent.”

      Brendan stared at her, his green eyes narrowed and showing anger. “Why the rangers? Simple. I believe no one. I find out what needs to be discovered. I make sure what’s said is true before I put a man in shackles. I work for real justice, not some jumped-up little potentate who thinks his money gives him leave to wield power over those with no voice.”

      Helena straightened her spine and planted her hands on her hips. She’d thought he felt as drawn to her as she was to him when he’d been showing her how to fire the Colt. She was such a fool! The lesson had only been about putting her fate in her own hands again. Nothing more. So once the Winchester lesson was over she’d be on her own.

      And he’d once again lumped her in with Franklin Gowery and those like him. “You have a bad habit, Ranger Kane,” she snapped, her fury making his look like a child’s temper tantrum. “You forget facts at will and you judge others unfairly against your own narrow-minded yardstick of values. The poorer one is, the more noble, is that it? Sometimes the poorer the lazier, Brendan. And sometimes the lazier the more dishonest.”

      She sniffed and took a step forward, poking a finger in the center of his chest. “You also seem to forget the months Joshua and I had to pretend to be engaged, so we could spy on Franklin Gowery and his Pinkerton cohorts. And you forget the night they would have put you in shackles. We risked our own freedom to spirit you out of town and save your life. And you forget the prison of a life Franklin was willing to force me into. Do you remember that period of time when all you did was stand by and watch, all but cheering him on? But that was just fine because, after all, I’m nothing but a filthy-rich heiress.”

      Brendan stepped forward and reached out to her, but she knocked his hand aside, and with more strength than she knew she possessed, shoved him on his black-clad butt in the dirt. She didn’t even wait to see him land, just whirled and ran to the house. Then she tore open the side door, rushed inside and slammed and locked it. She pulled out the key for good measure, grasping it in a death grip.

      She’d never let him in again.

      Never.

      Her breath stuttered in her chest and she wiped at her face. And stared at her wet hand. Tears! He’d made her cry. Again.

      Damn him.