“Your stock is outstanding,” Cort said. “I like your breeding program.”

“Well, it’s not quite up to Grier standards,” Bart said with a grin, “but I make enough to keep the ranch going, even if I do run Black Angus instead of Santa Gerts.”

“All you need is a wife, and a few kids to inherit the place when you’re gone.”

“Chance would be a fine thing,” he said, sighing.

“That ‘friend’ of yours seems to like you enough,” he returned with a scowl.

“I told you, there’s no spark,” Bart returned with a sad smile. “It’s like dancing with a sister. Nothing like I felt with the woman who married and moved away. I have the damnedest bad luck with women.” He shook his head. “I guess some of us just aren’t destined to help populate the planet. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Cort went into the guest room and stripped down to his shorts. He wasn’t sleepy. In fact, he hated sleeping, because the dreams came. Every time, he was back in the war, back in the horror, the blood, the carnage. He pulled up the covers and rolled over. Maybe, just maybe, tonight he could manage to sleep without dreaming at all.

MINA STOOD QUIETLY by while the local veterinarian, Ted Bailey, checked the stitches he’d put in her young bull.

He stood up and smiled. “He’ll do, Miss Michaels,” he said after a minute. “No evidence of infection and he seems to be healing well. But I’d keep him up for a few days, just the same.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks, Dr. Bailey.”

“No problem.” He shook her hand and went to his truck. She followed him outside after another glance at her young bull. She was grateful that Old Charlie hadn’t done any worse damage to him.

Bill McAllister had just loaded Charlie onto his horse trailer, with a little help from her other part-time cowboys and a few false starts. The old bull hated trailers. He fought the ropes and the cowboys, but they managed to get him into the trailer without anyone being injured.

“Well, that was an experience,” Bill chuckled.

“I noticed,” Mina said with a grin. “Thanks for the help, guys,” she told the part-timers, who nodded and went back to work.

“I’ll get Charlie home and into the pasture, then I’ll be back. Thanks again, Miss Mina.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she told him with a warm smile. “I’m just happy we don’t have to put him down. He’s been around here for a while. Since I graduated from high school, in fact.” Her face tautened at that memory of what had come before her graduation.

“You’ve got a good bull crop, and more expected,” Bill said at once, hoping to wipe the frown off her face. He smiled. “You’ll have ranchers milling around here like cattle, hoping to buy them on sale day.”

She grimaced. “My operation isn’t big enough for sale days, I’m afraid,” she said. “Bart and I are going to go in together and do it at his place. He’s going to get Dan Carruthers out of retirement to cook steaks for it. Dan’s got that secret spice recipe,” she added with a grin. “I’ve been after it for years.”