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Sam shrugged. “Don’t have a choice. At least, not for now. I’ll try to find a more permanent place to stay later. Somewhere I can bring in a nanny while I work.”

Laura leaned over to make sure Annie was still securely fastened to the chair. “Sounds to me it’s not going to be easy.” She bit her lip, reached for her cup of coffee and met Sam’s gaze. “It’s okay to leave her here while you do your thing at the spa. That is, if you feel okay leaving her here with me.”

Sam was agreeable to leaving Annie here all right, but only as long as the photography assignment would take. “I’m game if you don’t mind,” he finally answered. “It’ll only take me a couple of days of shooting at the spa, and I’ll be back here at night.”

Laura was torn between offering him her ancient truck to get to the spa or withholding the offer to keep him from leaving. Until she noticed Annie’s drooping eyelids.

“Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show you where Annie can spend the night.”

“Maybe I can help you clean up in here?”

“Later,” Laura answered. She untied the sleepy baby and cuddled her in her arms. “Let’s get Annie to bed first. The dishes can wait.”

Sam carried the diaper bag and trailed Laura up the stairs. Something told him the next lesson was going to be a zinger.

It was. After Laura cleaned up the sleepy baby, she rummaged in the diaper bag for nightclothes and came up with a yellow fleece sleepsuit. “Looks as if her mother thought of everything Annie would need for today at least,” she murmured. “Any more of the baby’s things in the SUV?”

“Don’t know. Frankly I didn’t take time to look around. All I could think of was getting Annie out of there before the deluge hit her.”

Laura nodded. “Good thinking. Now, why don’t you pull out the bottom drawer of that chest over there and I’ll make Annie’s bed.”

Puzzled, Sam pulled out the empty drawer, brought it over to the bunk bed and watched Laura stuff the drawer with linens. In minutes she had a sleeping Annie tucked into the drawer on her back. “Annie will be safe in here.”

Sam was lost in admiration at the makeshift crib.

He spent the rest of the evening and the night waiting for Annie to cry. And hoping that Laura wouldn’t come barreling in to rescue her. The last thing he wanted was to see Laura in a nightgown. He might have sworn off women for now, but he wasn’t a saint.

Chapter Three

In the morning Sam had just polished off the last bit of French toast when he heard a car drive up to the back door of the house, skid to a stop, and a car door slam. To his surprise, Laura glanced out the window and reached for the rifle that hung on a wall.

“Hold on a minute!” Sam jumped to his feet and made for the door. “Take it easy before that thing goes off and you shoot someone.”

“You got it right, Sam. That’s the idea here.” Laura tried to stare him down. “Now get out of my way before the someone turns out to be you.”

Sam swallowed hard and took a firm grip of Laura’s shooting arm. With Annie asleep in a nest of blankets in the next room, he wasn’t about to let the rifle go off. “Not before you tell me what’s going on.”

“I intend to run an unwanted rat off my property, that’s what,” she answered with a hot glance over Sam’s shoulder. “Remove your hand and get out of the way.”

Sam froze. If it was going to be a question of who was the stronger of the two, he was—hands down. Even though the fire in Laura’s eyes told him she wasn’t going to give up easily, he didn’t intend to move.

A hard impatient knock sounded at the door.

Sam took a firmer grip on the rifle. “At least tell me who’s out there, what they want, and why you want to shoot him!”

“Harry Magraw, that’s who. And my land, that’s what,” she answered with a tug on the rifle. “This isn’t the first time Magraw has been here uninvited trying to persuade me to sell the ranch. I told him never to show up at the front door again, so this time he’s come around to the back door. The fool just doesn’t seem to understand the word no.”

Sam recalled his first impression of the ranch—bare land, a few sheep and no sign of any real activity. The ranch didn’t appear productive, let alone valuable. A losing proposition, sure, although he hadn’t noticed a FOR SALE sign. “Buy your ranch? Why, is it for sale?”

“No, it’s not,” she answered. “Even if it were, the last person I would sell it to was someone who wants to turn it into a waste-dump site! My folks loved this ranch, every inch of it, and so do I. Now let go!”

“Okay, but promise me you won’t shoot anyone.” At her reluctant nod, Sam let go of her arm. “Go ahead, open the door. I’ll be right behind you in case there’s a problem.”

Laura snorted. “Nothing I can’t handle.” She flung the door open and stepped out onto the porch.

When he spotted Laura’s rifle, the short rotund man dressed in an ill-fitting white linen suit took a step backward. “Now see here, Ms. Evans, take it easy. I came here to up my previous offer. No need for a weapon.”

Laura glowered at Magraw. “I told you before my ranch isn’t for sale. Not under any circumstances, and especially not to you. What part of no don’t you understand?”

Magraw held up a pudgy hand. “Now see here, Ms. Evans. You and I know you don’t have the money to hire hands to maintain this property, even if you do manage to hold on to it. You can’t take care of the livestock, either.”

Laura shifted the rifle. “I’m warning you. Get off my property!”

Magraw eyed the rifle warily but held his ground. “Do yourself a favor and accept my client’s latest offer. With that kind of money, you’d be able to go off and live like a queen anywhere you like.”

Laura snorted. “My finances are none of your business, Mr. Magraw. As for living like a queen, I’m doing it right here without your help. You’re trespassing. I’m warning you for the last time, get off my property, and don’t come back!”

To Sam’s surprise, Magraw kept talking. “From what I hear, you’re going to lose the property one way or another. Think about it. If you don’t accept my client’s offer, you won’t come out of this with a cent to call your own.”

Before Laura could raise the rifle, Sam stepped in front of her. “You heard Ms. Evans. Why don’t you leave before someone gets hurt?”

“Who are you?” Magraw demanded with a scowl. “Ain’t seen you around these parts.”

“No one you need to know,” Sam answered. He reached behind him, grasped the handle of the rifle praying it wouldn’t go off and shoot him in the foot. Just to make sure, he held the muzzle away from him. “Now, do yourself a favor and leave quietly.”

Magraw thrust out his jaw. “Seems to me you don’t have a say in what happens to the ranch. Unless—” he smirked “—you and the lady are some kind of kissin’ kin.”

Laura gasped and tried to push her way in front of Sam. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Hank coming around the house and starting for the porch. Sam caught his eye and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was an all-out free-for-all, let alone a shooting. He wasn’t that anxious to die. “I think you’ve said enough. Get out of here. Now!”

When Magraw hesitated, Sam shifted the rifle and raised a questioning eyebrow. With a final look at the weapon, Magraw cursed and took off for his car.

Sam waited until the car disappeared down the road before he waved off Hank, turned and led the way into the kitchen.

“Somehow I don’t think you’ve seen the last of Magraw.” Sam gingerly put the gun down on the table, stood back and eyed it warily. “Sounds to me as if someone wants to get their hands on your ranch pretty bad. I don’t think they’ll stop with Magraw.”

Laura stomped her way into the kitchen. “I can take care of them, too.”

Sam shuddered at the thought of Laura defending her territory with the rifle. “Maybe, maybe not. Now unload that damn thing and put it back where it came from.”

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