This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [38]
Summer’s heart lurched. “Oh, I don’t think . . . I mean, he doesn’t know about . . . he’s never. . . .”
Slater was faintly amused. “It’s time be was put in the traces.”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“He’ll survive a few knocks. Get on the horse, son.”
When Summer made a move to assist her brother, Slater edged his horse in between her and the sorrel. She looked up to protest. The horse had turned and the scarred side of Slater’s face was turned to her. She caught her breath sharply, involuntarily wincing at the pain he must have suffered. He misunderstood her reaction and his mouth tightened and his nostrils flared. A strange gleam came into his eyes.
“Ugly, isn’t it?” Her innocent amazement seemed to anger him, and the livid expression in his eyes made her take a step backwards. “Not handsome like Travis McLean.” His drawl was taunting. “Never judge a man by his looks. Judge him by his actions.”
“What makes you think I’m judging you?”
“The way you’re looking at me. Like you’ve suddenly seen the devil himself.”
“I was only thinking of how you must have suffered.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side, as if he didn’t believe her. His hard stare never eased from her face.
“It was nothing compared to seeing my pa shot down by cowards with covered faces, and knowing who was responsible and not being able to do anything about it!”
From under straight dark brows she studied him curiously. His scarred cheek, his hard dark eyes, the derisive slant of his well-shaped, firm mouth, the pugnacious jut of his jaw. All gave the impression of toughness. He looked as if he lived and worked for only one thing—revenge. Slowly, her glance drifted down to the gunbelt strapped firmly about his hips and the revolver resting against his thigh. She guessed the gun had been a part of him for so long he would feel naked without it.
He continued to watch her, his thick lashes almost hiding the blue-black eyes. She had the impression that all his muscles were coiled and ready to spring into action, as if she were an Indian. A tingling went down her spine, and was followed suddenly by overwhelming weariness. Almost without realizing it, she rubbed a hand across her brow in a gesture of near-exhaustion.
When he spoke, his voice was soft as velvet. “I’ll snake water up in a ditch if you insist on having the garden. You don’t need it, you know. There’s plenty at the Keep for all of us.”
“No. You’ve done enough. We don’t expect you to feed us, too.”
From under the brim of his tilted, broad-brimmed hat, his eyes glared at her, wicked, livid light flickering in them.
‘’You heard me,” he retorted curtly. “There’s no need for you to exhaust yourself carrying water to this garden. Sam McLean planned for this ranch to be part of the Keep. We plant corn, wheat, and grow vegetables. We raise chickens, keep bees, and run cattle. We also have an orchard. This place is part of us.” Bitterness edged his voice. “Or have you already decided to join your land to Travis McLean’s?”
“No!” Her cry of protest came straight from her heart. She was on the verge of tears, suddenly, because she couldn’t bear the thought of him being so angry and suspicious of her. She realized how distant she had grown from the boy she had once adored. “I don’t know you,” she managed to say, “and I don’t know them. I only wanted a place to bring John Austin.” Her mouth trembled and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from disgracing her. “I won’t be in the middle of your feud with Travis and Ellen. And . . . another thing . . . I don’t want this land. My brother and I are not entitled to it. You and your father made the improvements on it. All I ask of you is a place for John Austin until he is old enough to make his own way.”
She stood in troubled silence while Slater looked at her. He couldn’t help but wonder at the grit of this woman. He hadn’t counted on her disrupting his whole life, as