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He looked surprised, as if she’d caught him off guard, not an easy thing to do when it came to crossing swords with Bull Tyler.
“I want a written, signed promise from you that I can develop and use my land any way I choose—build anything and raise anything. And you won’t interfere unless I ask for your help.”
“Fine, as long as it doesn’t compromise my access to the water.”
“And what about the neighbors? What if they want a say in what I do?”
“That goes without saying. Anybody who bothers you will have me to deal with.”
Rose stared at him over the remains of her breakfast, amazed at how easily they’d come to an agreement. Was it because she’d threatened to get help from the Prescotts? Or had Bull simply decided to do the right thing?
Only Bull knew the answer to that question, and Rose knew better than to ask him. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
“So, do we have a deal?” he asked.
“It appears . . . we do,” Rose said. “Now what?”
“Now we get in the truck and head for town to visit my lawyer and get the papers drawn up and signed. Then, after we file the new deed at the courthouse, what do you say to my buying you a Corona at the Blue Coyote? As I recall, you’re of age and then some.”
“I’d say thanks for the offer, but what I really want is to come home and get to work on my land.”
“Suit yourself.” Bull stood, reaching for his hat and the keys to his pickup. “I already told my lawyer to expect us. Come on. Let’s go to town before one of us gets cold feet.”
Rose followed him out the front door. Bull had planned this, she realized. He’d even spoken with his lawyer about it. And here she was, walking like an innocent lamb into a situation she barely understood. Was she doing the right thing? The smart thing?
But what choice did she have? She wanted her land and she needed protection. Maybe this was the best she could do.
As for trusting Bull—the man had lied to her, stolen her land, and left her stranded in Mexico. But he had also saved her life and absolved her of guilt in the shooting of Ham Prescott. So what now? Would he turn out to be her friend or just one more enemy plotting against her?
Only time would tell.
* * *
After the legal papers were signed and the new deed recorded, Bull drove Rose back to the land that was now hers and stopped next to her truck.
“So, what’s next for you?” he asked her.
She forced a grin, still half afraid to believe she wasn’t dreaming. “I’m going to unload the camper. Put up a fence. Start planning the cabin and laying out the garden. The sooner I can get seeds in the ground, the sooner I’ll have vegetables to eat. And I’m hoping, once I get a coop built, that you’ll sell me a few of those chickens.”
“They’re yours. Call it a housewarming gift. But blast it, Rose, you can’t live out here alone. At least not until you have a solid house. It isn’t safe. Come on back to the ranch and stay in the duplex while you work on your property. Jasper will be glad for the company. And the boys like having you around, too. They’ve both told me so.”
He was making sense, Rose knew. But impractical as it might seem, she wanted to be on her land—to wake up to birdsong and the whispering babble of the creek, to work the ground and fall asleep with the rich, dark earth still embedded under her fingernails. She wanted to touch everything with love and make it truly hers.
But if she tried to explain that to Bull, he would only argue with her, or worse, laugh. “I’ll think about it,” was all she said.
“Well then, all I can do is wish you luck,” Bull said. “But know that if you need help—and you’re bound to—you can come to me anytime. It’s to my advantage, as well as yours, for us to be good neighbors.”
The old suspicions were already rising to the surface. It wasn’t like Bull to be so generous. He always had an agenda, and this time would be no different.
Rose was about to climb out of the truck when she realized she wasn’t ready. She needed to ask some questions and get some honest answers.
Could she trust Bull to tell her the truth? She turned back in the seat to face him. “Why are you doing this after you told me no?” she demande
d. “What changed your mind? And what’s the bottom line—what’s in it for you?”
“You ask tough questions, lady.”
“I need tough answers, not pretty words.”
