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Bull frowned. “We’ll see. Ask Jasper when he gets back from the mountain.”
Rose had finished her breakfast. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now,” she said, rising. “Thanks for the flapjacks. You boys have a good day at school.”
She was out the door before Bull could repeat his warning about Ferg Prescott. She didn’t want to be reminded one more time that she was only a woman and not fit to deal with the powerful and unscrupulous boss of the Prescott Ranch. Now, while she was still riled up, would be the perfect time to face the man who’d become a thorn in her side.
Climbing into her truck, she started the engine and roared away from the house, toward the back road that connected the two ranches. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw Bull standing on the porch. He was shaking his head.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WHEN NO ONE ANSWERED THE BELL ON THE SECOND RING, ROSE opened the door and stalked into the house. By then she’d worked herself into a seething rage. If Ferg Prescott thought he could harass her and get away with it, she was about to prove him wrong.
She found Ferg breakfasting alone at the dining room table, surrounded by the mounted trophies that had given her the creeps when she’d been there as a dinner guest. The massive bison head, with its staring glass eyes, loomed directly above him. Over the window, the mounted body of a snarling cougar crouched on a long shelf.
As Rose walked into the room, Ferg looked up and smiled, showing bits of egg yolk on his large front teeth. “Hello, Rose. I don’t recall inviting you at this hour, but please sit down and have some breakfast. I’ll have Curly bring you a plate.”
“I’ve already eaten breakfast. And I’ll stand, thank you. It won’t take long to say what I’ve come to say.”
Ferg sipped his coffee, then set the cup down and added some liquid from a silver flask. “So, please go ahead,” he said. “Take your time. I’ve always viewed you as an entertaining little woman.”
“I’m not an entertaining little woman!” Rose snapped. “I’m a legal property owner and a citizen of the United States. And you have no right to send your man onto my land to kill my livestock!”
He gave her a blank look. “My dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that.” Rose could feel her anger boiling over. Only the awareness that he was goading her gave her a measure of self-control. “Tanner McCade had you dead to rights. He saw blood on the shoe of your hired thug, and he saw the man coming out of this house.”
“That doesn’t prove a damn thing,” Ferg said. “And even if you could prove it, sheep aren’t livestock. They’re vermin. No court in the state would convict a man for killing them—no more than they would for killing coyotes or prairie dogs.”
“I’m not here to prove anything,” Rose countered. “I’m only here to warn you. Keep your people off my land. I have the right to protect what’s mine—even if I have to shoot somebody to do it. Believe me, I have a gun and I know how to use it.”
His expression went cold. “I know you do, Rose. I haven’t forgotten the night you murdered my father.”
A thread of fear uncoiled in the pit of her stomach. “It was self-defense, not murder,” she said. “Your father had a pistol in his hand. He was going to shoot me because I’d seen him kill my grandpa.”
“But you were never arrested or tried.”
“That’s because you blamed Bull when you knew better. Do you want me to tell the sheriff that you lied?”
For the first time, he looked uneasy. “That’s old news,” he said. “Nobody cares anymore.”
“Then let’s leave it at that.” Rose chalked up a small victory. “But while I’m here, I want to ask you why you’re having me spied on. Tanner said you even admitted to it.”
“As I told your boyfriend, I have the right to know what’s going on next to my property—like those two Mexicans who showed up at your trailer last night. What’s to stop them from crossing the creek and robbing me blind?”
“You’ve no need to worry. They’re gone. But I’m a woman alone. All I’m asking for is my privacy. Can’t you at least give me that?”
“Not if it means I can’t protect my own property. I have that right, too.” His hand came down on a bell next to his plate—the kind of bell a business might keep on the counter to summon service. The ring brought the cook from the kitchen.
“Curly, it’s time for Miss Landro to leave. Would you please escort her to her vehicle?”
“Don’t bother. I can find my own way.” Rose turned and strode out the front door. She had said all she’d planned to say, but being thrown out of the house was the final humiliation. For all her righteous indignation, she had barely made a dent in Ferg Prescott’s arrogance.
By the time she started her truck, she was trembling. She drove back by way of town. Tanner would be working, but just to talk to him, and maybe feel his quick, reassuring hug, would ease the sting.
The TSCRA ranger post was on the right side of the road. Tanner’s truck was outside, but—her heart sank—another official truck was parked next to it. Tanner had mentioned that he was expecting a partner. The partner must have arrived. Rose sighed and kept driving. Tanner didn’t need to be embarrassed by her stopping to cry on his shoulder.
She drove on into town. As long as she was here, she might as well pick up some groceries. Cooking and storage space were limited in her tiny kitchen, but at least she could look for foods that could be easily warmed up the next time Tanner came to visit.
The new grocery store was well stocked. Rose had to rein herself in to keep from buying more than she could use. Next to the frozen pie case, she paused. The pies looked delicious, but if she bought one, she would have to cook it today. There was no room for a pie in her freezer.
