“Too much success too soon in life,” Bart said philosophically.

“You’re probably right,” Cort admitted. “I grew up rich. My dad taught me that women were a permissible pleasure and I never forgot it. He went through them like a knife through butter, even while our mother was still alive, from what my older brothers said. He went wild after he found our stepmother in bed with his best friend. He said modern women had no morals, no sense of justice, and they only had one use. He taught us what it was.”

“That’s a shame,” Bart said. “There are some nice women in the world.”

“Like your friend,” he chided.

“She’s very nice,” Bart replied. “She isn’t sophisticated or rich or spoiled. She’s just like the girl next door.”

“Deliver me from that sort,” Cort chuckled. “I have no wish to be herded into marriage because a woman got careless in bed with me.”

“Practical solution is to carry protection with you.”

He shrugged. “I used to. But these days the majority of women are on the pill or the shot or whatever the hell they use these days. I never met a single one who wasn’t a fanatic about birth control. They all had careers in mind, even the models.”

“That was to your advantage.”

“It was. No worries about unexpected surprises,” he returned. He glanced at Bart. “You really are a Neanderthal, you know.”

Bart laughed. “I guess so. I’d never fit in those exalted circles you swim in. And honestly, Cort, I wouldn’t want to. I like small-town life. You don’t. We’re worlds apart.”

“I’d still die for you, cousin,” Cort said gently.

Bart smiled. “I’d die for you, too.”

“So much for philosophy. How about a beer and a ball game?”

“Done!”

BART AND CORT were up very early the day of the production sale. So was Mina, nicely dressed in slacks and boots and a pearly gray sweater with buttons that ran from below her waist up to her throat. They were all buttoned and Cort kept getting uncomfortable urges to unbutton them. She had a nice figure and pert, firm little breasts that made him hungry. It bothered him that he was attracted to her. She was completely the wrong sort of woman for him, and he knew it, but he seemed to have no willpower at all. He couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mind. And always, there was the threat of Jake McGuire. The man wasn’t as rich as Cort, but Mina wouldn’t know that.

He noticed that she was shy with the out-of-town buyers. Bart was staying close to her, but as more people came in for the sale, she found herself deserted, and with a cattleman she didn’t know who had a roaming eye and, quite suddenly, a roaming hand as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

Mina had been trying to move away from the visiting cattleman in a nice way, without starting trouble. The man was big and overpowering, like Henry had been. He had the same coloring. She felt isolated and frightened. She should say something about that roaming hand. She already would have, to any other man. This one scared her. Even so, she was girding herself for a confrontation when help came from an unexpected quarter.