“What about your taxes?” Bart asked as they sat down in the living room among several other guests.

“It wasn’t really that. I’m just not sure I did the right thing about my bull.”

He frowned. “What bull?”

“Old Charlie. He attacked another of my young bulls and did so much damage that the younger one had to be put down. I gave Charlie to Bill. I was afraid to sell him, in case he did the same thing to another rancher’s bulls. He’s aggressive.”

“Bill loves the old animal. And he’s only got a handful of female cows. It should be all right. Charlie doesn’t attack people. Well, not often—just when he’s moved off the cows in late summer. And Bill can handle him. He’s worked cattle for years.”

She looked up at him. “Anybody can get gored. I’d feel responsible if anything happened to Bill.”

He patted her hand. “Don’t you worry about him. Everything will be fine. That was a generous thing to do. Charlie would have sold for a good bit of money.”

She made a face. “I’m signing a new contract next month. It will be for ten times what I could have sold Charlie for.”

He laughed. “Congratulations! I told you that talent would make you rich one day.”

“Not rich. Not just yet. But much better off than I’ve ever been. Cousin Rogan says I need to buy at least two new bulls and some open heifers at the Production Sale the Terrances are having next month.” She glanced at him. “Want to go with me? I could use some advice.”

He chuckled. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

She glanced toward the dance floor. A bluesy tune was playing now, and Cort Grier had Ida wrapped around him like ivy. The way he was holding her made Mina uncomfortable. Even a novice could see experience in the way he looked at the woman in his arms, in the way his body melded itself to hers.

“How long is your cousin staying?” she asked stiffly.

He sighed. “Not for long. Maybe.”

That was less than encouraging. She changed the subject.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, while Mina was saying her goodbyes and getting her coat, Cort paused at Bart’s side.

“Do you mind if I bring Ida back to the ranch with me?” he asked lazily.

Bart stiffened and glared at his cousin. “Yes, I do. That woman has the morals of an alley cat. I don’t want her seen on my place.”

Cort’s eyebrows arched up. “I beg your pardon?”

“You tomcat around all you like, cousin. Do whatever you please, as long as you don’t involve me. I don’t approve of that sort of behavior and I won’t condone it. Least of all on my own property.”

Cort stared at his cousin as if he’d gone insane. “Everybody does it,” he began hesitantly.

“I don’t.” Bart looked absolutely intimidating. “A lot of people around here don’t. We’re a churchgoing community, for the most part.”