Placing a rental agreement and application into a side pocket of her purse, she headed outside just as Blue, who had been lying docilely on the porch, jumped up and made a racket, startling the blue jays that had collected on the eaves. The birds squawked and fluttered off.

Luke’s truck rolled into the drive and Katie’s heartbeat began to notch up a bit. She set her jaw and marched over to the pickup as he, in worn jeans and a frayed shirt that he hadn’t bothered to button, swung out of the cab.

“Ms. Kinkaid,” he drawled, his sexy-as-all-get-out crooked grin growing from one side of his square jaw to the other. “You look like you’re about to spit nails.”

“That would be a good way to describe it,” she agreed, throwing out a hip as Blue, finished with his alarm barking, began sniffing the grill and running boards of Luke’s truck.

“At me?” He feigned innocence.

“You’d be a primary target, yes.”

“Is there a reason?” But his eyes belied him and she saw in their blue depths a hint of worry.

“Ralph Sorenson called today.”

His smile fell away from his face.

“He wanted to come out and meet Josh, and during the course of our conversation—which could only be described as tense, at best—he let it be known that he’s grateful to you for finding his grandson and that you’ll be paid for your trouble.”

Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten and his face, so congenial minutes before, took on the expression of a harsh, unbending cowboy. “You want an explanation.”

“Not just an explanation, but a damned good one,” she clarified, her fingers curling around the strap of her purse.

Luke glanced at the house. “Maybe we’d better go inside.”

“So Josh can hear this? He doesn’t much like you, to begin with. I think this would only make things worse.”

“Fair enough.” He rested his buttocks against the fender of his pickup, folded his arms over his chest and stared so hard at her she nearly looked away. But she didn’t. She was too hurt. Too upset. And too damned mad.

“When Ralph and I made the deal on the ranch, he sweetened the pot a tad.”

She was shaking inside. She didn’t want to hear his confession, but wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This was a man she had trusted, believed in, made love with. She’d given him her heart though she’d die before admitting it. And he’d betrayed her. Used her. Played her for a fool. Well, she wasn’t having any more of it. “How did he ‘sweeten the pot’?”

“A few more dollars if I found out whether or not his son had fathered a child.”