Neither Cort nor Mina spoke. They glared at each other even more.

Bart cleared his throat. “Well, we’d better be getting out to the ranch. Cort’s just flown in from Texas and I expect he’s in need of some rest.”

“All that flapping. Are your arms tired, then?” Mina asked.

He glared at her. “Aren’t yours tired from all that knitting?” he drawled back. He gave her a hard look, taking in her lack of makeup and the dowdy dress she wore. “I guess a woman as pitiful looking as you has plenty of time to knit, for lack of a social life.”

She stomped on his booted toe as hard as she could.

He cursed and glared harder.

“That’s assault,” she said helpfully, dripping sarcasm. “I’ll go turn myself in to the police right now!”

Cort opened his mouth to reply and his expression indicated that it was going to be something toxic.

Bart, who knew his cousin’s temper very well, caught him by the arm and almost dragged him around. “We have to go now. See you later!”

“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE saved her,” Cort muttered as they got back to Bart’s pickup truck. His high cheekbones were ruddy with temper. “What a damned, unpleasant, ugly woman! I should have had her arrested for assault. Wouldn’t that have wiped that smirk off her face?” he added. His foot was a little sore. She’d been wearing boots, too, he recalled suddenly. Odd, for a city woman to have them on. Maybe they were in style. On the other hand, what would such an unattractive woman care about style?

“Now, now, she’s not so bad…”

“I’d rather we never spoke of her again,” he interrupted, and gave his cousin a look that said he meant it. “The other woman, the nice one,” he emphasized, “she’s married to John Callister, you said?”

Bart wanted to tell him about Mina, about her past, but he realized he’d get nowhere. At least not right now. “Yes. Sassy’s well-known here in the community. Her mother had cancer, but John got her treated and she continues to thrive. The family adopted a little girl who’d worked for an employee who died, and she lives with her adoptive mother as well. They’re a fine family.”

“Mrs. Callister seemed pleasant.”

“She is. And Mina…”

“Please,” Cort interrupted. He drew in a breath. “That’s about all the unpleasantness I can manage for one day. And the damned woman knits, can you believe it? I wonder if she knows which century this is?”

Bart held his tongue. He could have answered that remark, but it was just as well to save it for later. “How about a nice cup of strong black coffee?” he asked instead.

“That sounds good.”

Bart grinned. “I splurged on a pound of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.” He glanced at his cousin, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, I know,” he added on a chuckle. “It’s your favorite.”

“And you just became my most favorite cousin,” Cort returned with a laugh.