Page 5 of The Cowboy's Justice

“Can you at least tell me why this cowboy wants to see her?”

“He’ll make her an offer. It’s in conjunction with the D.A. and with his approval. Considerin’ the circumstances it’s perfectly reasonable. In fact, I’d call it generous. But, ultimately it’s up to you and your client.”

“I’ll discuss this with her and get back to you.”

“The offer is off the table at 5 p.m.”

“Not a problem. Thank you, Sheriff.”

* * *

Devlin had just said goodbye to one of his riders and was heading back into the barn when he saw the sheriff marching towards him.

“I take it you’ve made contact,” Devlin declared. “What did they say?”

“The lawyer was a bit surprised, but I’m fairly certain Miss Peyton will be here in the mornin’.”

“Thanks for workin’ with me on this, Sheriff.”

“Hey, I think your idea is just what this girl needs. But it’s a good thing the D.A.’s my cousin and we think the same way. He could’ve hit her with all kinds of charges. But I’d best get back on the road. I’ll let you know as soon as I—speak of the devil,” he exclaimed as his phone signaled a text. “William Buckley and Portia Peyton have agreed. She’ll be here in the mornin’.”

“What’s this lawyer like?”

“Slick. Hopefully it’ll rain overnight and he’ll get mud on his shoes in the mornin’.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Devlin said with a chuckle.

“You’ll feel the same once you’ve met him. One thing’s for sure, I wouldn’t trust him, not for a minute.”

“What about Portia?”

“She’s just your typical spoiled rich girl. I can’t imagine why she wanted to move out here. Well, like I was sayin’, I’d better get back on the road. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As the sheriff climbed into his cruiser, Devlin called to his dogs, Jethro and Jezebel. They were big and loud and he adored them. He’d found them when he’d first started renovating the ranch. They’d just been puppies, and he’d assumed they’d been abandoned by the previous owners. The thought had sickened him, and he’d showered them with affection.

“Hey, you two. Have you been up to no good?”

Jezebel barked, and Jethro dropped a stick at Devlin’s feet, then stared up at him expectantly.

“Just once,” he said with a grin, picking it up.

After hurling it in the air, he watched the dogs race after it, then strode back to the barn. But as he walked in he lifted out his phone and played back the video of the dark-haired beauty.

As she’d stopped her SUV, he suddenly noticed she hadn’t immediately reached for her bag and make up. For a brief moment it appeared she’d wiped tears from her cheeks.

CHAPTER FOUR

The weekends at Rainbow Ranch were always busy, but Monday was Devlin’s day off. Though clients might show up he kept a low profile, and would often ride Belle or Marge up the Smoky Hill trail with Jethro and Jezebel running along beside them. He could rely on his two ranch hands, Jimmy and Mike, to stay on top of things while he was gone.

Standing at his kitchen window drinking his second cup of coffee, he spotted a black Corvette rolling slowly down his gravel driveway. It was low to the ground, and a ridiculous car to drive to a ranch. At least the weather was cooperating and there were no potholes or mud puddles, but knowing it would be Portia Peyton and her lawyer he almost wished there were. Mentally preparing himself, he placed his cup on the counter and strode out to the porch. A moment later Sheriff Cooper’s cruiser appeared and quickly caught up with the sports car still creeping its way to the front of the house.

Devlin was about to trot down the steps when the Corvette’s doors swung open and Portia stepped from the car. He stopped mid-step and caught his breath. He wasn’t expecting the girl to arrive wearing hip hugging jeans and a provocative cut-off T-shirt. The clothes did little to hide her voluptuous figure, and she was even more beautiful in person than in the video.

“I’m William Buckley, Miss Peyton’s lawyer.”

Darting his eyes to a tall man marching towards him, Devlin disliked him on sight. He looked as polished as the ostentatious car he’d been driving. His dark hair was meticulously styled, his khaki slacks had a pressed seam down the middle, and his brown leather loafers sported the identifiable gold Gucci horse bit. Theonly thing that wasn’t eye-catching was his plain white polo shirt, though it was starkly white.

“Hello, I’m Devlin Hatfield,” Devlin exclaimed, extending his hand.

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