“Now you’ve heard.” He fired another shot at Brawley’s partner who was inching his gun too high. This time Wyatt took aim at the sack he’d dropped at his feet. The bullet pinged hard, and Wyatt hoped it showed off his gun skills enough that the men wouldn’t try anything else. He might not be as fast as Judd, but his friend had taught him a fair share about shooting iron.

“She just arrived on the stagecoach the other day.” Brawley’s gaze narrowed upon Greta now, and Wyatt didn’t like it. “How’d you end up getting married so quick?”

He couldn’t very well explain to Brawley she was part of a cattle deal with Steele. The truth wasn’t exactly something he was proud of. Besides, he didn’t want Brawley knowing about the Shorthorns till the new herd was safe on his land. If his surly neighbor got wind of the bargain, no doubt he’d do everything he could to make sure the plans failed.

“She was Phineas Hallock’s mail-order bride.” Wyatt fumbled with the answer. He had to figure out what to say because every man this side of the Continental Divide would be pestering him once word spread. “Offered to help her out for my friend’s sake.”

“For your friend’s sake?” Brawley’s question ended in a laugh.

Wyatt ventured a glance in Greta’s direction. She was drawing closer. He picked up his rifle and grouse with one hand and kept his revolver trained on the men with the other. Then he sidled toward her.

“We all know why you scooped up a pretty little thing like that.” Brawley snorted. “But the real question is why she agreed to marry a clodhopper like you.”

Wyatt hastened his pace, praying he could get Greta out of range before Brawley and his men decided to use them for target practice.

“When your ranch ends up failing and you have no choice but to give me what’s mine, maybe I’ll end up with her too.”

“No how, no way!” Wyatt ran the last few steps to Greta.

She reached for his rifle and the grouse, freeing him to mount his horse. She waited to make sure he made it up before she nudged her horse forward. He did the same, trailing her. Once they were out of gunshot range, he kicked his horse into the lead.

The descent was rocky and challenging, especially since he was in a hurry to put as much distance between them and Brawley as possible. When they finally reached more level ground, he picked up the pace, working into a gallop. Greta stayed close behind, low to her mount, clearly understanding the danger they were still in.