was alive. Now I buy the land or Powell Long will buy it and fence it off from my cattle. He hates me.”
“I know how he feels,” she said pointedly.
“Do you know what she’ll do if you’re not there?” he continued. “She’ll try to seduce me, sure as hell. She thinks no man can resist her. When I refuse her, she’ll take her land straight to Powell Long and make him a deal he can’t refuse. Your friendship with Antonia won’t stop him from fencing off that river, Barrie. Without water, we’ll lose the property and all the cattle on it. I’ll have to sell at a loss. Part of that particular ranch is your inheritance. You stand to lose even more than I do.”
“She wouldn’t,” she began.
“Don’t kid yourself,” he drawled. “She’s attracted to me. Or don’t you remember how that feels?” he added with deliberate sarcasm.
She flushed, but she glared at him. “I’m on vacation.”
“So what?”
“I don’t like Sheridan, I don’t like you, and I don’t want to spend my vacation with you!”
“Then don’t.”
She hit the banister helplessly. “Why should I care if I lose my inheritance? I’ve got a good job!”
“Why, indeed?”
But she was weakening. Her part-time job had fallen through. She was looking at having to do some uncomfortable budgeting, despite the good salary she made. It only stretched so far. Besides, she could imagine what a woman like Mrs. Holton would do to get her claws into Dawson. The widow could compromise him, if she didn’t do anything else. She could make up some lurid tale about him if he didn’t give out…and there was plenty of gossip already, about Dawson’s lack of interest in women. It didn’t bear thinking about, what that sort of gossip would do to Dawson’s pride. He’d suffered enough through the gossip about his poor father and Antonia Long, when there wasn’t one shred of truth to it. And in his younger days, his success with women was painfully obvious to a worshiping Barrie.
“For a few days, you said,” she began.
His eyebrows lifted. “You aren’t changing your mind!” he exclaimed with mock surprise.
“I’ll think about it,” she continued firmly.
He shrugged. “We should be able to live under the same roof for that long without it coming to bloodshed.”
“I don’t know about that.” She leaned against the banister. “And if I decide to go—which I haven’t yet—when she leaves, I leave, whether or not you’ve got your tract of land.”
He smiled faintly. There was something oddly calculating in his eyes. “Afraid to stay with me, alone?”
She didn’t have to answer him. Her eyes spoke for her.
“You don’t know how flattering that reluctance is these days,” he said, searching her eyes. “All the same, it’s misplaced. I don’t want you, Barrie,” he added with a mocking smile.
“You did, once,” she reminded him angrily.
He nodded. His hands went into his pockets and his broad shoulders shifted. “It was a long time ago,” he said stiffly. “I have other interests now. So do you. All I want is for you to run interference for me until I can get my hands on that property. Which is to your benefit, as well,” he added pointedly. “You inherited half the Bighorn property when George died. If we lose the water rights, the land is worthless. That means you inherit nothing. You’ll have to depend on your job until you retire.”
She knew that. The dividend she received from her share of cattle on the Bighorn ranch helped pay the bills.
“Oh,
there
you are, Dawson, dear!” a honied voice drawled behind him. “I’ve been looking just everywhere for you!” A slinky brunette, a good few years younger than Barrie, with a smile the size of a dinner plate latched onto Dawson’s big arm and pressed her ample, pretty chest against it. “I’d just love to dance with you!” she gushed, her eyes flirting outrageously with his.
Dawson went rigid. If Barrie hadn’t seen it for herself, she