Judith E French Read Free Page B

imagine.”
    The man Sam had called Broom held up his hands. “I’m havin’ no part of this, boss. You want Judge Henry throwed out of here, you do it yerself.”
    “Damn you, Broom,” Sam snapped. “You can get off the Lazy S as well.”
    The tall cowboy’s weathered tan flushed beet-red. “You can’t do that, Mr. Steele. I worked for your father since you were both mites. Who else is gonna hire me with my gimpy leg?”
    “You heard me,” the rancher replied. “You haven’t been worth your keep in years. Get the hell off this spread.”
    “Not without my pay,” Broom said. “I’m owed—”
    “You’re owed shit. You don’t follow my orders, you’re fired!” Sam advanced on Tamsin with a clenched fist. “I warned you to git off the Lazy S, woman.”
    She took a step backward. “I’m going.”
    Broom took a swing at Sam, and the rancher hit him hard in the face. The cowboy got in a weak punch to Sam’s chest, but the younger man’s return blow caught him full on the nose. Blood spurted as Broom went down on one knee. Sam followed up with a vicious kick to the midsection.
    Broom groaned and sank to the ground. “You bastard,” he managed. “I’ll get you for this.”
    Sam kicked him once more before glancing at the second cowhand and the man with the hammer. Swiftly, they moved toward Henry.
    Swearing, the judge retreated to his buggy. “You’ll regret this, Sam,” he warned. “I’ll be back, and we’ll settle this for once and all.”
    Tamsin touched Henry’s arm. “I’m on foot,” she said. “Could you at least give me a ride back to town?”
    He scowled at her. “Get back the same way you got here.” The judge slapped his lines over the horse’s rump and drove away without looking back.
    Sam gave Tamsin a shove. “Get moving,” he warned.
    She winced as she heard Dancer’s angry whinny from the barn. “I’m going,” she repeated. But I’ll be back, too, she vowed silently. You can count on it.

Chapter 2
    By Tamsin’s reckoning, it was close to midnight when she crept close to Steele’s barn. She’d thought long and hard about what she meant to do, and it seemed that there was only one answer to her dilemma.
    She had to steal her horses back.
    The night was dark, the low, heavy clouds split by flashes of lightning. Heavy drops of rain were beginning to fall.
    If the lane to the ranch house hadn’t been lined with pines, she doubted if she could see well enough to find her way to the stable. As it was, she wandered blindly until a jagged bolt illuminated the corral.
    She followed the split-rail fence to the barn door. Once inside, she threw caution to the wind and lit the small lantern she’d purchased in town. Then she lifted the lamp high and looked around nervously. Fancy would answer to her name, but Tamsin was afraid to call out to the mare for fear of alerting one of the cowhands.
    Outside, the wind was rising, blowing in gusts against the north side of the building. Common sense told her that she could stand in the middle of the barn and shout and not be heard above the coming storm. But she moved silently, placing one foot and then the other as though she were stepping on ice rather than hard-packed dirt.
    The first two stalls were empty. A third held a spottedpony. Beyond that, nearly out of the pale circle of flickering light was a high-walled enclosure. Tamsin hung the lantern on a post and had started for the gate when a loud peal of thunder vibrated through the stable.
    She jumped and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Another ear-splitting rumble rolled overhead, and waves of rain began pelting the tin roof. The paint snorted and paced anxiously. From inside the closed box stall came a high-pitched nicker.
    “Dancer?” Heart thudding, Tamsin hurried toward the familiar sound, then noticed the dark object lying on the floor. It looked like …
    “Sweet hope of heaven!” She uttered a startled gasp and dropped to her knees beside