by Janet Dailey
'That's impossible!' Stacy exclaimed, disgust and anger in her voice. 'We manage to carry on a civil conversation once in a while, but it always seems to end with us at each other's throats. It's useless to even pretend that we can stand each other. He's so cynical and self-centred that he insists everyone kneel at his feet, and he's not finding me so subservient.'
Immediately upon uttering her words, Stacy felt Cord's presence in the room. Defiantly she turned to face the glowering eyes. The tall man with his broad shoulders seemed to fill the room, diminishing everything near him.
'Our guests are leaving.' The dark figure finally spoke. 'Are you going to the door with them?'
Stacy turned without answering Cord and walked with Mary as she collected her purse and started towards the front door. Stacy's back prickled ominously,’ aware of the rancher walking directly behind her. Before reaching the front patio, Stacy murmured an apology to the girl beside her, speaking in a low voice.
'I'm sorry you were dragged into the middle of our fight, Mary. I so enjoyed your coming out here.'
'Don't you worry about it,' Mary admonished. 'It happens to the best of us. You just hurry up and get better.'
'I second that' Bill added, putting his hand on Stacy's shoulders. 'Professionally speaking, get yourself another couple of days' rest and limit your activities. After that you can do as you want,'
Looking up at the pleasant face of the doctor, Stacy gave him a timorous smile. Her pleasure at the kindness of her new friends was overshadowed by the dark man who was standing so close to her that her whole being screamed its knowledge. With cheery good-byes, the couple walked down to their car. A little forlornly, Stacy watched as the car disappeared down the winding lane. Resolutely she turned to face Cord and his scornful eyes, only to find him gone. Glancing quickly around, she saw his familiar form striding towards the, stables. Puzzled and relieved at the same time, she walked into the house.
CHAPTER SIX
FOR the past two days, Stacy had taken special pains to avoid Cord Harris. Her success was achieved with the co-operation of the rancher, who apparently did not want her company either. Digging the toe of her boot into the sandy soil, Stacy looked around the grounds hesitantly. The time had come to talk to him and she wasn't looking forward to it at all. She had fully regained her strength and wanted to make arrangements to return to the cabin. The last of her packing had been completed after lunch, which left her with the unpleasant task of finding Cord. The big German Shepherd padded contentedly along at her side as she wandered past the open doorway of the office. A glance inside verified the inner feeling that he wasn't there. With an impatient sigh Stacy continued to the stables.
'He's probably out on the range somewhere,' she thought grimly, gazing out beyond the buildings.
At the corrals she noticed a horse and rider rounding one of the barns at a gallop. Not recognizing the man, Stacy waited. Her curiosity was aroused, by his haste. Her ears caught the shouting of voices not far from the stables and she turned to see the reason for the commotion, but the buildings blocked her view. The rider had just reined his horse to a stop by the corral gate and dismounted.
'What's wrong?' she asked the cowboy.
'S'cuse me, ma'am, but I got to call the doctor,' the man murmured, starting to hurry past her.
'What happened? Who got hurt?' Stacy cried, a horrifying picture already forming of Cord lying unconscious on the ground.
‘That red devil of a stallion slipped out of the stud pen when Chris went, in,' he answered, hurrying towards the open office door with Stacy right behind him. 'The young fool climbed on his horse and tried to rope him. The horse went berserk and attacked him. Luckily the Boss and us was headed in from off the range and saw what happened. Don't know how bad the kid's hurt—can't get near him.'
'Diablo!' Stacy gasped, staring at the man reaching for the phone to the office.
'The Boss is mad enough to kill that horse,' muttered the cowboy into the phone, not directing the sentence to Stacy.
As she heard the man reach the doctor, Stacy rushed out of the office towards the standing horse. She jumped on the buckskin and turned him towards the distant sound of voices. Her thoughts were barely coherent as she shouted to the Shepherd to follow and kicked the already winded horse into a gallop. She just knew she had to get there.
'Kill Diablo!' The words rang like a death knell in her ears. Confused, she whipped the horse with the reins as he bounded around the buildings and headed towards the mounted figures beyond. As she drew up by the two mounted horsemen, she saw a rider trapped under his fallen horse with her red stallion between him and the two riders. A rope was flying free from Diablo's neck as he eluded the ropes of the other two riders. His neck and withers were white with foam as he continued to lash out with his wicked hooves.
'What the hell are you doing here?' shouted Cord Harris as he sighted Stacy dismounting her horse. His face was, contorted in anger as he swung his big bay around to face her. 'Get back to the house where you belong!'
'He's my horse!' shouted Stacy, turning away towards the stallion who was lunging, teeth bared, at the other mounted rider.
'You crazy female,' roared the rancher, reining his horse over beside her, 'can't you see that damn stud is loco?'
It was then that Stacy noticed the bullwhip in the angry man's hand, the end dragging in the dust raised by the bay's dancing hooves. Fire flashed from her eyes as she raised her head to meet his dark eyes.
'What do you propose to do? Whip him into submission?'
'If I have to, yes. That boy over there is hurt!'
'Get out of my way!' Stacy demanded. Pushing his horse away from her, she walked to face the red stallion.
A shrill whistle rang from Diablo as he pawed the ground and shook his flaxen mane at the solitary figure in front of him. Rearing, he flashed his black hooves through the air, his ears snaked back.
'Diablo!' Stacy commanded, attempting to pierce the frenzied mind of the stallion. 'Diablo, settle down!'
His ears remained flat against his head as he lashed out with his back feet at the Shepherd worrying him from behind. Stacy could see the fallen horse attempting to rise, only to fall back on its side. As the stallion started to charge at her, she called to him once again, her voice raising in authority. Stacy thought she saw his ears flicker up as he swept towards her. When he was just about on her, she stepped aside and he thundered by. Spinning around, he faced her, tossing his blazed head. Out of the corner of her eye, Stacy saw the two mounted riders moving. One was headed for the injured rider and Cord was coming towards the stallion, the whip rolled on the saddlehorn and a rope flicking the air in readiness.
'Diablo,' her voice changed to a caressing whisper, 'easy, boy, settle down. It's all right, baby. Come here. Come on!'
But the excitement and the almost forgotten memory of the scar on his neck was too much. The red horse couldn't curb the demon driving him. His delicate head bobbed up and down, the foam flicking off his neck. He recognized the girl in front of him, but he was filled with a new sense of hate and strength. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught the movement of horse and rider coming up behind him and danced around to face them. Stepping forward. Stacy called to him. This time he spun swiftly around and raced towards her, his teeth bared and his head low. When Stacy attempted to jump out of his way, the stallion veered into her, jostling her to the ground with his big shoulder.
Breathless but unhurt, she raised herself up to see Cord streaking after the horse. He yelled at the other horseman and both ropes encircled the red sorrel at the same time. Screaming his anger, the horse attempted to charge the furthest rider, only to be brought up short by the rope dallied around Cord's saddlehorn.
'We got him, Boss! We got him!' yelled the other rider triumphantly, as the horse struggled futilely between the two ropes. It only took him a few minutes to realize he couldn't hope to win. Swiftly the two riders led him to the gate of the stud pen from which he had just escaped.
'Take it easy, Chris,' Cord instructed. 'We'll have you out of there in no time. Doc's on his way.'
'My leg's broken,' groaned the young rider, gritting his teeth with pain. 'Get me out from under this damned horse!'
'Shortly, how bad's that horse's leg?' demanded Cord, directing his words to the dusty figure trying to quiet the downed gelding. The only answer was a negative shake of the head.
Without a word, Cord rose and walked over to his bay horse and extracted his rifle from the scabbard. Stacy stood numbly watching the action, unable to move or react. The loud report of the gun as it silenced the life of the injured horse deafened her. Overcome by shock and horror, she did not see the doctor arrive or the boy being carried away on a stretcher; the only thing she could see was the inert form of the dead horse. The tears glazing her eyes seemed frozen, too. At last her vision was blocked by Cord's dusty, sweaty form. Stiffly she raised her tear-filled eyes to his blurred face.
'Why?' she whispered, forcing the words through the lump in her throat.
'When Chris roped your horse the sorrel charged, knocking them down, breaking Chris's leg and his horse's, too. The doc says he's going to be all right, six weeks or so off the leg and on crutches for a month or more.'
'No,' Stacy mumbled, barely coherent. 'The horse!' Why did you have to kill him? It wasn't his fault,' she sobbed. It was her first experience with what seemed to her brutality and she couldn't keep her eyes from straying to the dead horse.
'The horse?' exploded Cord. 'Do you realize that I could have lost a man? A human being! And all you're worried about is a horse!'
His anger pierced her shock and she turned to his face again and read the distaste and disgust that filled it. He didn't understand. She was upset about the rider, but she couldn't reconcile herself to the cold-blooded killing of the horse.
'But he's going to be all right, don't you understand? He'll be back, but the horse is dead and you killed him! As if it was nothing!' Her voice was shrill with shock and near-hysteria.
'Nothing? Do you realize that I'm now without a horse and a rider? Do you think it's going to be easy to replace a man at this time of the year?' he roared, grabbing her arm in a vicelike grip. 'I have you to thank for that, you and that horse of yours!'
'Oh, sure, it's all my fault,' she cried sarcastically. 'Well, don't worry. I'll pay for the hospital bills and any inconvenience this caused you.'
'You're damned right you will!' Cord replied. His voice lowered threateningly. 'But your money won't buy your way out of this one. You're going to take Chris's place. For once in your life, you're going to see what it's like to work to pay a debt.'
'What are you talking about?' Stacy asked, her body now trembling with anger.
'You've gained a lot of sympathy with that poor orphan act of yours around here. I bet it really broke your heart when your father died and left you all that money,' he replied, scorn and contempt deep in his voice.
His words cut like a knife into her heart as the horrible accusation left Stacy speechless. Unconsciously she felt the contact of her hand against his cheek. Her palm was stinging as the deepening fire in his eyes once again focused on her.
'So that's the way the little cat plays,' he murmured through clenched teeth. 'Today you got away with it, but I wouldn't try it again if I were you. You start to work tomorrow,' he stated. 'And wear something practical, like jeans. We don't hold any fashion shows out on the range.'
Her feet were rooted to the ground and the angry tears in her eyes trickled down her cheeks as she watched Cord stalk away. Her hands were clenched into tight fists as she tried to find the words to scream after him. But her mouth refused to open and the words never came out. She stood there shaking with uncontrolled anger that gradually gave way to gasping sobs. Cord Harris had already mounted his horse and ridden off in the direction of the ranch house before Stacy moved from her position. Slowly she made her way in the same direction, her mind jumbled with thoughts of hatred for the rancher and compassion for the injured boy and the dead horse.
By the time Stacy reached the yards, the dust from the ranch car was halfway down the road, Silently she made her way to the hacienda, oblivious to her actual surroundings. Once inside the house and in her bedroom, Stacy sat on the bed and looked at the possessions she had earlier collected to leave.
With one hand she wiped the angry tears away from her eyes as she sat going over again their conversation. It was wrong to be concerned for the horse as opposed to a human being, but it had been the shock of the horse's death. Perhaps she was even wrong to accuse Cord of brutally killing the horse without a thought if he could be saved or not. But Stacy could find no excuse for his outrageous attack against her about her father's death. Besides, she had never told him that she was orphaned, though she had told the Nolans, but no one, certainly, knew about the money she had inherited! The anger in her heart faded away and was replaced by the crushing feeling of despair. How could she ever hope to convince him that this wasn't true? But why should she try? The confusion of her thoughts drove her to her feet and she paced the room. Resentment of Cord Harris boiled inside her.
Just exactly how was he going to make her stay against her will? He certainly couldn't force her to work. And besides, just exactly what did she know about ranching? Stacy stopped in front of the mirror, an idea forming in her mind. He couldn't stop her leaving because he wasn't even here. She glanced quickly at her watch and just as quickly outside. More time had gone by than she realized. The sun was already down and Cord must have been gone for at least two hours. If she intended to leave before he returned, she didn't have much time. Quickly she began gathering her belongings and setting them outside her room.
Naturally, he would accuse her of running away and refusing to face his challenge, but let him think what he liked. Unfortunately she had been forced to accept his hospitality when she was ill, but there was no need to stay any longer. It was enough that she had offered to pay the hospital bill for the boy and reimburse Cord for the horse. If financially she was unable to pay him, that would be the time to try to arrange some way to work the problem out. Even she had to admit that she was responsible for her horse.
Stacy had just slipped her fringed jacket on and picked up her purse and started out of the bedroom when she heard the big oak door close. Numbly she stood beside her luggage and stared at the tall form standing at the bottom of the stairs. Cord's features were hidden in the shadows, but Stacy could well imagine the dark brows gathered together and the clean, hard set of his jaw, and most of all the grim line of his mouth. Her eyes were wide and darkening with apprehension as she felt the trembling course through her body. Neither spoke as the tension grew.
'I take it you're planning on going somewhere?' came the low baritone voice.
'What if I do?' Stacy retorted defiantly, lifting her chin in challenge.
'Then I would suggest you forget it,' was the cool reply as Cord stepped out of the shadows. There were new lines on his face that Stacy hadn't noticed before, but there was no mistaking the hard quality in his voice. He cast one further glance at the luggage and the still figure above him. 'You might as well unpack.'
'You don't actually believe you can keep me a prisoner here against my will?' Stacy exploded, in anger.
He gave her one brief glance before replying. 'You're in my debt and it's up to me to set the terms of payment.'
The hopelessness of fighting this man raced through Stacy and her shoulders slumped slightly, acknowledging defeat. The fire went out in her eyes and was replaced with despair and confusion. Struggling, she attempted to take one last stand. 'I will not stay in that room one more night!'
A glint of amusement showed in his eyes before he
turned his face away from her.
'As you like. There's a guestroom down the hall. Use it,' he paused briefly. 'In case you're interested, the boy's going to be in the hospital for a few weeks and inactive for a couple of months.'
Stacy felt the heat rising in her cheeks at her inconsideration for not asking about the injured rider's condition. Why did he always manage to make her seem so heartless? Frustrated, she gathered up her cases and stalked into the hallway, stopping at the first doorway on her left.
She was too upset to take in the surroundings of the room. Her anger was too close to the surface to allow her to dwell on anything but Cord's dark eyes and sculptured face. His cool indifference irritated her. All she had done was make a fool of herself and increase his belief that she was spoiled and selfish. Stacy knew she could expect no mercy at his hands. He expected her to take the rider's place regardless of her sex.
'Very well, Mr. Harris,' she whispered to herself. 'I can take anything you can dish out. No quarter asked.'
The sun had barely touched the sky the following morning when there was a loud knock at Stacy's door. Sleepily she raised herself up on one elbow and looked out the window and then over to the clock on the dresser. It took her a minute before she remembered the previous day's events.
'Yes?'
'It's time to get up,' came Cord's voice from the hall. 'That is if you, want coffee and some breakfast before work.'
He didn't wait for a reply, but strode away from the door. Determinedly, Stacy clambered out of the bed. It took her only a few minutes to dress in her Levi's and shirt and to tie her hair back at the nape of her neck. A little smile played on her soft lips as she looked at the image reflected in the mirror. If Mr. Harris thought that blue jeans and a plain blouse were going to make her look less of a woman then he was wrong. She couldn't keep the pleasure out of her eyes as she surveyed her gentle curves. She checked to make sure her riding gloves were in the pocket of her suede jacket, picked up her hat and walked down the stairs to the dining room.