Courting the Enemy Read Free Page A

at blindly accepting anything.
    “Persuade me otherwise,” she challenged. “Convince me you had nothing to do with the attempts to destroy our herd, that your intentions were honorable when you tried to buy up the note on the land.”
    He didn’t seem surprised by the accusations. He merely asked, “And then you’ll sell?”
    “I didn’t say that, but I will stop labeling you as a thief if you don’t deserve it.”
    He grinned at that, and it changed him from somber menace to charming rogue in a heartbeat. Karen nearly gasped at the transformation, but she wouldn’t allow herself to fall prey to it. He hadn’t proved anything yet. She doubted he could.
    “If I tell you that none of that is true, not even the part about the mortgage, would you believe me?” Grady asked.
    “No.”
    “What would it take?”
    “Find the person responsible.”
    He nodded. “Maybe I will. In the meantime, I’m going to tell you a story,” he said in a low, easy, seductive tone.
    His voice washed over Karen, lulling her as if it were the start of a bedtime story. She was tired enough to fall asleep listening to it, but she sat up rigidly, determined not to display any sign of weakness in front of this man.
    “Generations ago this land belonged to my ancestors,” Grady began. “It was stolen from them.”
    “Not by me,” she said heatedly, responding not just to the accusation but to the fact that she’d dared to let down her guard for even a split second. “Nor my husband.”
    He seemed amused by her quick retort. “Did I say it had been? No, this was years and years ago, before your time or mine. It was taken by the government, turned over to homesteaders. White homesteaders,” he said pointedly. “My ancestors were driven onto reservations, while people like the Hansons took over their land.”
    Karen was aware that much had been done to the Native Americans that was both heartless and wrong. She sympathized with Grady Blackhawk’s desire to right an old wrong, but she and Caleb—or, for that matter, Caleb’s parents and grandparents—weren’t the ones to blame. They had bought the land from others, who, in turn, had simply taken advantage of a federal policy.
    “You’re asking me to make amends for something I had no part in,” she told him.
    “It’s not a matter of paying an old debt that isn’t yours. It’s a matter of doing what’s right because you’re in a position to do so. And I certainly don’t expect you just to give the land to me because I say it rightfully belongs to my family. I’ll pay you a fair price for it, same as anyone else would. I guarantee it will be far more than what was paid for it all those years ago.”
    Before she could stop him, he named an amount that stunned her. It would be enough to pay off all their debts and leave plenty for her to start life overagain back in Winding River, where she’d be with friends. It was tempting, more tempting than she’d imagined. Only an image of Caleb’s dismay steadied her resolve. Keeping this ranch was the debt she owed to him. She could never turn her back on that.
    “I’m not interested in selling,” she said with finality.
    “Not to me or not to anyone?” Grady asked with an edge to his voice.
    “It hardly matters, does it? I won’t sell this ranch.”
    “Because you love it so much?” he asked with a note of total disbelief in his voice.
    “Because I can’t,” she responded quietly.
    He seemed startled by the response. “It’s not yours to sell?”
    “Technically, yes. But I owe it to my husband to stay here, to do what he would have done, if he hadn’t died so prematurely. This ranch will stay in Hanson hands as long as I have any control over it.”
    For a moment, he looked taken aback, but not for long. His gaze locked with hers, he said, “I’ll keep coming back, Mrs. Hanson, again and again, until you change your mind or until circumstances force your hand. This place is wearing you down. I can see it.”