Page 25 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"C'mon," I growled, giving Samuel a push.

"With how much herding of me you do, I'm going to start looking to see if I'm growing a tail and a little extra woolly coat on my body," Samuel quipped with a snort.

"Sheep are too smart to be compared to you."

"And you're not cute enough to be a herding dog. Yet here you are, acting like one all the same. Weird."

"Enough."

"I love a man who takes control."

"No, you don't."

"Aww, you have been paying attention. That's sweet."

Thankfully, he thought it was a good idea to shut up when we reached my father. Which was good because his attempt at banter was getting on my nerves as usual, and I didn't want my father to see how much the guy still got to me. Well, and it was more than a little uncomfortable because his comment had felt...flirtatious.

Aside from that, I didn't want my father to hear some randommantrying to flirt with me. More importantly, I didn't want him to see how uncomfortable...or the kind of uncomfortable I was with it. That...taste in bed partners wasn't unheard of out here, but it was always kept quiet, and people didn't talk about it much unless there was evidence or at least enough to cause gossip. I did not need my father knowing not only was I likethat, but the damned outlaw I was supposed to be keeping an eye on was flirting with me.

Yes, perhaps if circumstances were different, and if Samuel wasn't...well, him, I would have been able to look past his irritating 'charms' and find him attractive. Without knowing who he was or that he was enough of a lawbreaker to be locked up, his looks alone would have been enough to interest me. As it was, I tried not to notice and ignored it whenever he made a passing comment that came anywhere close to sounding like a flirtation.

And I definitely wasn't so hard-pressed for sexual attention that a good-looking outlaw's flirtations made my pants feel a bit too tight for comfort.

My father's eyes swept over us in that appraising way he had before stepping into the room he used as an office. He didn't spend much time in the room, preferring to keep an eye onthings firsthand, but he used it to look over the books my brother balanced, take care of orders and shipments, and pull people in to have a serious talk with them.

We entered, and I nodded toward one of the chairs in front of my father's neat and orderly desk. “Go on."

"Do I need to stand and sit on your command with everything else?" Samuel asked in a dry tone.

I grit my teeth, refusing to take the bait in front of my father. Anyone else, and I would have fought him on it. Still, I knew Samuel would take too much pleasure in riling me up, and my father would question my capabilities again if he saw I couldn't stay in control of myself or my prisoner.

My father walked behind his desk, pulling out a decanter and turning his back to us as he poured. “The men have been reporting that we've been losing livestock. Sheep mostly, but goats have been taken as well. They were saying coyotes?—"

"Wolves," Samuel interrupted, and I could see his expression stiffened, lips going thin. "If there's enough dying, it's wolves. They're quiet when they need to be. And they're smarter than any sheep or goat has a hope of being."

My father turned, a glass in his hand. "Have experience with ranching?"

"No, I have experience with wolves and how they hunt," Samuel said with a thin smile. "If they're hungry enough, they'll hunt people just as much as they'll nab a few sheep too far from the flock."

My father looked him over again before holding out the glass. “The men are saying coyote."

Samuel stared at the glass cautiously but took it. “Theywantit to be coyote. Wolves scare people, and people avoid scary things, even if it's a scary truth. My advice? Find a way to get a pond around here and get some geese."

My father's head tilted the barest inch. “Geese?"

"They're mean when they want to be, but they're loud too. They'll kick up a noise like no one's business when there's danger. You just have to give them time to get used to all the noise, animals, and people around here first. Getting them as goslings is my advice. But they need water. Not easy to come by around here, but it sounds like your dogs aren't doing much."

My stare of disbelief broke as I growled at him. “Our dogs aren't meant to be chasin' wolves."

"Then you need better animals or something to deal with them," Samuel said with a shrug, sipping his drink. His brow quirked slightly. “This...is not from around here. Anyway, killing the wolves, which you undoubtedly plan to do, isn't enough in the long run."

My father continued to look at him intensely, showing no other emotion on his face. "Is that so?"

"Wolves don't breed quickly like some animals but spread out, keeping to their territory. But if a territory opens up? Well, a wolf or two will move into the new area, and they'll be careful. But as soon as they get big or desperate enough, they'll be back here. Unless you plan on setting up a lot of your workers and paying money to the people of Rapture, you're not going to make a big enough dent. You'll just wipe out the local population until the new ones arrive and start growing. Let me guess, the last time you had problems with wolves was...five years ago?"

"Six."

"Enough time for a pack to have moved in and grown. If they've run out of food and are desperate, they’ll be even more dangerous than a normal pack. But if they're not, you'll definitely need to get rid of them."

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