Wild Texas Rose Read Free

than one step to join Thorn’s admirers. “Sue Ellen, don’t do this.”
    Sue Ellen had tugged the velvet out from between Rose’s fingers when Sonny Pogue bellowed, “Sue Ellen!”
    Jumping like an indentured servant at her master’s call, Sue Ellen abandoned her planned flirtation and hustled toward the portly, perspiring man she had married. Rose turned her head away. She couldn’t stand to watch them together — Sue Ellen cloying and sweet, Sonny demanding and tyrannical.
    Keeping close against the wall, Rose moved to the door and stepped out on the porch where tin lanterns provided licks of light through their lacy clefts. Unobserved, she thought, but Sonny bellowed again. “Rose, you’re not leaving?” His bulk blocked the light. “You must stay the night.”
    Patient with Sue Ellen’s husband as she had never been with plain Sonny Pogue, Rose answered, “I can’t. I must go and tend the horses.”
    Sonny dragged Sue Ellen through the opening like an extra appendage. “Don’t you have any ranch hands left?”
    “I have Patrick,” Rose said.
    “That old Irishman?” Sonny curled his lip in expressive opinion. “You know what I think of the Irish. Thieves and drunkards.”
    Irritated at the criticism of her friend, Rose said, “Patrick’s good with horses.”
    “You don’t have to snap!” Sonny protested. “Just like a woman to resent a little advice.”
    “I didn’t realize it was advice.” Rose took the first step off the verandah. “I thought it was faultfinding.”
    “No, no.” Sonny put on his jovial persona. “I wouldn’t criticize you. Why, I’ve known you since we were children. We grew up together, you and me and Thorn. ‘Course, you and me turned out all right, and Thorn was always a bad seed, but you fixed him when you—”
    Sonny jumped, and Rose thought Sue Ellen must have pinched him.
    Even in the dim light, Rose could see his ruddy face flush redder, and irritation made him react nastily. “Patrick can’t be too good a hand, or you wouldn’t be losing horses.”
    “What?” Dismayed, Rose stopped her retreat.
    “You wouldn’t be losing …” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable and sorry he’d spoken. “That is, we heard rumors someone was stealing your horses.”
    Rose had thought, hoped, that nobody knew. Now, sober with dismay, she asked, “Where did you hear that rumor?”
    “Now, Rose, a man can’t reveal his sources.” Sonny may have been mean-spirited, but he wasn’t stupid. He peered at her. “But I guess it’s true?”
    Rose watched him steadily. The years had taught her that Sonny used words as both shield and weapon, and only silence could break him.
    As she hoped, he began to sweat, then stammer. “I have my cowboys keep an eye on your place. Kinda because I feel protective, and kinda because I figure it’s going to be mine someday.”
    “And why do you think that?” Rose asked.
    “Ah, face it, Rose. You haven’t got a chance. It’s a man’s country and cattle country, and here you are trying to raise horses. I told you when you sold me those extra acres I’d be first in line to take the rest, so I figure—”
    Of all of Sonny’s irritating idiosyncrasies, this one annoyed Rose more than any of them. “You bought my land for no more than a fair price, Sonny, and I only sold it to you because I couldn’t run cattle on it. I don’t owe you anything.”
    “Ah, Rose. You’re so prickly, no wonder you’re an old maid.”
    “Sonny!” Sue Ellen sounded sincerely shocked.
    Defiant as a rude little boy, Sonny insisted, “It’s true. She’s not that bad looking — a little worn down from working so much, and so skinny she’s only got one stripe on her bedgown, but she’s got brown eyes as pretty as any heifer’s and a smile that makes a man wish for long winter nights. In fact, if she smiled at the men as often as she smiles at her horses, they’d be buzzing around her. And if she’d come to this party in a new dress