Do You Take This Enemy? Read Free Page A

spending sleepless nights trying to figure out what to do because every month they were running deeper into debt and every month her father was working too hard.
    Constantly she ran through possibilities, but never came up with a good solution. She had two uncles who ranched, but Uncle Dusty’s health was worse than her father’s and he had his hands full trying to keep his ranch going. Her other ranching uncle, Colin, had had a run of bad luck: his barn and house had burnt and he’d carried no insurance. Cal, the youngest brother, a dentist in San Antonio, had helped all of his older brothers, but there was just so much he could do and it wasn’t enough when there were three who needed help.
    She inhaled and rubbed her hand across her brow. Gabe Brant’s words hurt because she knew they were true.
    Life and family were more important than land. Her father’s life meant more than the ranch. She kicked a clod of dirt, hating that she had to give Gabe’s words some serious thought.
    She shook her head. It was simply a ploy by a Brant to get the Ryder ranch. Forget it and forget Gabe Brant. But she had never been able to do that in her life. She thought she had, giving him little thought when she’d lived in Chicago. Yet the moment he had stepped out of his pickup, her pulse had jumped. And when he had touched her, every nerve had quivered. She could still hear exactly how his voice had sounded when he had spoken her name.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with me?” she snapped, speaking aloud. She lifted her hair off her neck. Even though it was only May, it was hot outside. On the porch she turned to look at the rolling land that was the Triple R. Tall live oaks sent long, graceful limbs out over the yard, giving much-needed shade in the hot afternoon. Beyond the barn and outbuildings were green pastures dotted by more tall oaks. The land was good. It was home to her, and she would fight to her last breath for it, but her dad’s life was more important. Then the memory of sexy dark-brown eyes mocked her and she took a deep breath. Why did she still respond to him? How could he turn her insides to jelly with just a look?
    She crossed the porch and went into the kitchen that smelled of baking bread. A ceiling fan turned slowly above glass-fronted cabinets. A pitcher of tea sat on the walnut pedestal table and preparations for supper were spread on the white counter.
    A stout, gray-haired woman stood by the kitchen sink. She turned to look at Ashley. “Are you all right?” she asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.
    â€œYes, it’s just hot out,” Ashley replied, hurrying across the kitchen. “I’ll be in my room.”
    â€œYou didn’t let that lawyer fellow get very far. I fixed a pitcher of tea because I thought you’d at least let him come sit on the porch to talk. You didn’t let him come near the house.”
    â€œNope. I didn’t want him wasting my time.” Ashley hurried out of the room. She’d tell Mrs. Farrin soon enough, but she had to tell her father first. And if Gabe Brant had come closer to the house, Mrs. Farrin would have recognized him.
    Ashley thought about the blood-pressure medication her father took. She didn’t want to get him all worked up, but she knew she had to tell him about Gabe’s proposal, and when she did, he was going to raise hell.
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    That night, after Ashley and her father had finished supper and retired to the family room, her father sat reading a magazine. Seated near him on a leather sofa, she glanced around the room with its throw rugs and polished plank floor, Western art and shelves of books lining the walls. The quiet they were enjoying was about to be shattered—it was time to tell her father the news.
    â€œDad, I got a call yesterday from Prentice Bolton, a lawyer in San Antonio.”
    Quinn Ryder lowered his magazine and looked at her over his half glasses. Brown-eyed and tall,