Page 33 of Wyoming Tough

Mallory shook off the hand and glared at his foreman. “Don’t push me.”

“Then don’t push her,” Darby said. “Look at her, for God’s sake!”

He didn’t want to, but he did. She was fumbling with the saddle. Her hands were shaking. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Mallory felt it through his heart, like a knife. He grimaced.

“If I was her, I’d quit right now,” Darby said shortly. “And when she comes back tonight, that’s what I’m going to advise her to do. I know a couple of ranchers who need help….”

“You’ll keep your mouth shut, or you’ll be the one leaving,” Mallory told him angrily. “Don’t interfere.”

“Then you stop treating her like the black plague” came the short reply. “Honest to God, what’s wrong with you? I’ve never seen you treat a kid like that!”

“She’s no kid,” Mallory said angrily. “She’s a woman.” He knew it far better than Darby.

“Well, maybe so,” he conceded. “Still, she’s twice the woman that blond headache you take around with you is,” he told the boss. “You’re letting her warp your idea of Morie. She’s making you suspicious. Now you’re picking holes in everything Morie does. All because you and your brothers were taken in by Vanessa Wilkes. It’s your pride, hurting and making you suspect everybody. Even poor old Harry. He never stole that drill. Your girlfriend was in the bunkhouse just before she told you she’d seen him take it. She framed him, and you let her.”

“That’s enough,” Mallory said. He looked dangerous. “He was guilty.”

“He wasn’t, but he knew he’d never convince you as long as Gelly was around. Now she’s trying to do the same to Morie, to make you run her off.” He straightened. “I’ve seen good people and I’ve seen bad people. I warned you about Vanessa and you wouldn’t listen. Now I’m telling you, Morie isn’t like that. She’s pure gold. If you aren’t careful, you’ll ruin her life. Maybe your own, too.”

“She’s not what she seems,” Mallory said.

“Who is?” Darby smiled gently. “But she’s not devious. She’s running from something. I don’t know what. But she had no idea how to do ranch work, I’ll tell you that.”

“What!”

“She was desperate for a job,” Darby said. “So I taught her how to do the chores, how to dip cattle, how to help brand, how to stack hay and ride fence and pull calves. You have to admit, she’s turned into one of the best hires we’ve ever had. Works all hours, never complains about anything.” His eyes narrowed and the smile thinned. “And you think someone like that could be dishonest? Wouldn’t she be complaining at every turn and trying to get out of hard work?”

“I don’t know,” Mallory confessed. “Vanessa made me question my judgment. I’m not certain about anyone anymore.”

“If you want to distrust somebody, you take a hard look at that Bruner woman,” Darby said. “Something’s not right there. I’d bet money on it.”

“She’s just a friend,” Mallory muttered.

“She doesn’t think that. She wants you. And she’ll find a way to get rid of Morie, you mark my words. She’s not going to let her stay here.”

“It’s my ranch. I hire and fire.”

“Think so? We’ll see. Meanwhile, how about easing up on Morie?” he added. “God knows what that child’s been through in her life to make her end up here, doing a job she was never intended to do. Hurts me to see that deep scratch on her face. Flawless complexion. She could have been a model.”

Mallory frowned. He hadn’t considered her complexion or her background. He’d only been concerned that she might be a con artist. He’d have to take a better look at her. On the one hand, he was suspicious. On the other, he trusted Darby’s judgment when he couldn’t trust his own.

He patted the old man on the shoulder. “Never could take back talk from anybody but you, you old pirate.”

Darby grinned. “You’ll always get the truth from me. Even if you don’t want to hear it.”

Mallory sighed. He was looking after Morie. She’d gone galloping off, still crying. He felt like a villain. “Think I’ll take a ride.”

Darby smiled. “Good idea. You do that.”

MORIE STOPPED AT THE CREEKand got off the horse. She bathed her face in the clean water and used her only handkerchief to mop up her tears. Ridiculous, letting that awful man make her cry. She should have kicked him and told him what he could do with his job. That’s what her father would have done. He’d never have gone off crying. She tried to picture that and it made her smile.

She heard a horse coming up and turned, expecting Darby. But it was the boss. He looked oddly contrite, watching her with one arm crossed over the pommel, his dark eyes keen on her tearstained face.

“Maybe I could have chosen my words better,” he said stiffly.

She shrugged and looked away. “I work here. You’re the boss.”

“Yes, but…” He drew in an angry breath. “Why didn’t you fight back? Why did you run?”

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