Page 55 of Wyoming Heart

“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!”

BARTANDCORTwere 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.

Cort noticed her hunted expression and the cattleman’s unwanted familiarity, and he saw red. He walked up to the cattleman and removed the offending arm before Mina got her mouth open.

“We’re selling cattle. Not women,” Cort said. He smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile, and his pale brown eyes had sparks in them.

The man glared at him. “Isn’t the young lady the one who should be speaking to me if I offended her?” he asked haughtily, his eyes on Cort’s unimpressive cowboy duds.

Cort cocked his head. His chin lifted. The smile was replaced by a cold glare and glittering eyes. This time, the visiting cattleman got the message and moved off with a huffy sound. He went toward his car instead of the cattle.

“We’ve lost a sale,” Mina said softly. But she wasn’t complaining. She looked up at Cort with a smile. “Thanks. I was about to protest, but you beat me to it.” She sighed. “He was a pain. But he might have bought one of our bulls.”

Cort glanced toward the man’s automobile. “Unlikely. He’s driving a three-year-old Lincoln with a bald tire,” he said. “He was wearing a suit off the sale rack at a men’s store and boots he probably got from Walmart. He’d be lucky to afford a steak, much less prime beef like you’re selling here.”

She was surprised at the way he sized up the other man. She hadn’t noticed those things. Well, she still didn’t know much about fancy clothes or fancy cars.

“How did you know how old the car was?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Boss’s foreman drives one just like it,” he said.

“Oh!” She laughed. “Well, thanks for saving me.”

“I beat you to it by a few seconds,” he said easily, and he smiled down at her. “I could see the storm clouds gathering on your face.”

She wrapped her arms around her. “I’m not sure about that,” she confessed. “He looked a lot like Henry,” she added, alluding to her mother’s old boyfriend. “Same build, same coloring... I guess I got inhibited.”

He felt protective. It wasn’t a feeling he associated with women at all. Not the women in his life, at least.

“The past doesn’t really die. Even when the main character in a movie advises the heroine to let it,” he added facetiously.

Mina laughed. “Star Wars,” she said at once.

He nodded. “I’ve seen both of the new ones. I’m looking forward to the next.”

“So am I,” she said.

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