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the horses, and without land he’d have to drive them to San Angelo and put them up for auction.
    “Wait!” She rounded the desk and crossed to him. “Do you really think we could save the herd by moving them to another ranch?”
    “I surely do.” He scraped a thumb over his chin, thinking. “Drought ain’t near as bad up on the Concho River.”
    “I’ve heard Daddy talk about the old ranch, but he never took me there.”
    Trey wasn’t surprised. He’d heard Barton lost his first family at the Circle 46. He’d moved on, and for reasons that were solely Barton’s, it appeared he didn’t want his new family mingling with memories of the old.
    God knew the house wasn’t nothing to brag on.
    He’d spent a week there last fall when Barton sent him and a couple of hands to San Angelo to buy thoroughbreds he’d had his eyes on. That’s when Trey won his horses. They’d driven them all back to the old homestead and set about turning it into a stud farm. It wasn’t much to look at then, but the foreman was a good man.
    “Unless the river has suddenly gone dry, the old ranch will beat this dust bowl you’re living in now,” he said, stating the obvious as he turned to face her one last time. “You’re the boss, Daisy. Tell your foreman you want that herd moved.”
    She stared at him, as if shocked by the idea of going against Ned. She’d transferred her allegiance to him now that her daddy was gone.
    Tied her cart to a dead horse was more like it.
    Trey turned and headed for the door, hating Ned more with each breath he took. Maybe revenge wasn’t such a bad idea after all. God knew he’d gain satisfaction meting out just a portion of what the foreman had heaped on him months ago.
    “Why don’t you do it?” she asked.
    Her words lassoed him and brought him up short again. He slammed a palm on the doorjamb and stared at the far wall, hating the thrill that hit him at that suggestion.
    She couldn’t mean it. He had to have misunderstood her, for Ned would pitch a shit fit if Trey stepped in now. Hell, he had to be loco for just considering it.
    And yet wouldn’t that sate a good deal of the desire for vengeance boiling in him? To get back at the man who’d left him for dead? To have the woman who’d shunned him crawl back and ask for his help?
    No, he wasn’t that way. Never had been. The best thing for him to do was to put this behind him and head out.
    Instead, he found himself asking, “Just what are you suggesting?”
    “You help me, and I’ll help you,” she said. “Drive the herd up to the Circle 46 and agree to be the foreman until the drought breaks.”
    “You’ve got Ned to do that for you.”
    “I don’t trust him.”
    “You don’t trust me either.”
    She didn’t deny it, but she obviously placed him on a rung above Ned. He took no satisfaction in that, for when he’d needed her to step forward, she’d hid out.
    That’s what he ought to do now. But he couldn’t seem to make his feet move, even though he heard the rustle of her skirt over the pounding of his heart and knew she was coming toward him.
    “I know you don’t want to stay around here,” she said, her voice soft as velvet, “but I’m asking for your help. Just for a few months.”
    Trey didn’t want to help her. This downfall was just punishment for the Bartons. He should walk out with a smug smile on his face just knowing that the mighty were tumbling. Yep, he should cut his losses and skedaddle.
    But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted by her offer. He could come out of this disaster ahead of the game and give Ned his comeuppance for damned near killing him.
    “That’s all you want from me then?” he asked. “Move the herd and take my due when we part ways in a few months?”
    He heard her nervous sigh and caught the subtle scent of roses. She was right behind him. So close all he had to do was turn around and take her in his arms. Take her here and now and end the damned dreams that wouldn’t