Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(47)

“What’s he talking about? Who’s Allison Evans?” Nikki asked Wade.

“He hasn’t a friggin’ clue what he’s blabbering about,” Wade replied. “Allison is my partner’s daughter. She’s the ranch broker I’ve been working with. This is business, Nikki. Plain and simple.”

“Plain and simple?” Dirk laughed outright. “Yeah, you just tell yourself that, little bro. Hell, it seems to me with such a fierce competition for that dick of yours, we should pin a blue ribbon on it.”

“Shut the hell up, Dirk!” Wade snapped. “And get out!”

“You done f*cking then?”

Wade’s expression darkened. “I’m warning you, one more word and my fist is going to get mighty familiar with your face.”

Dirk felt his body stiffen at the clear call to arms, but tamped down the explosion that was threatening to erupt. After considering how he would have reacted had the boot been on the other foot, he forced himself to back off. He then turned and stalked out.

He was already on his horse when Wade followed a few minutes later. At least he was saved the indignity of an audience as he struggled to mount up.

“What the f*ck was that all about?” Wade demanded. “What possessed you to run your mouth off about Allie in front of her?”

Dirk shrugged. “Figured she’d be better off knowing now than getting ambushed back at the house. You should thank me. I saved you from having to deal with a big cat-scratching scene.”

“You think you saved me?” Wade threw a saddle on his horse. “You’re a class-A *, you know that, Dirk?”

“Maybe, but I’m also right. What do you think will happen when Fuck-Me-Pumps—”

“Quit calling her that—”

“—gets an eyeful of Peaches?”

“It’s not like that. I’ve never promised Allie anything and never expected anything in return.”

“Yeah, right,” Dirk scoffed. “Not even her daddy’s law practice?”

“You really think I’d use her like that?”

“What I think is that you’re kidding yourself if you think Allie don’t have designs on you. And my money says she’s gonna make that pretty damn clear the moment you ride up with Peaches in tow.”

“There’s nothing serious between Allie and me. Our relationship has always been mostly business.”

“Business with benefits? Hell, if that’s the deal you have going, where do I sign up?”

“Jackass.” Wade pulled himself onto his horse.

“Just calling your bullshit. She’s not my type.”

“Yeah, I recall your type all right—other men’s wives.”

Dirk’s knuckles whitened around the reins. The reference to Rachel was a damn low blow. They’d avoided any talk of her for over three years. Wade’s marriage had failed and she was gone. He knew the guilt ate at Wade, but it seemed easier for his brother to make accusations than to shoulder the blame for the death of his wife and unborn child. But Dirk had let it ride long enough. “It’s time to pull your head out of your ass, brother. That’s not how it was, and I think deep down you know it.”

“She never wanted me. She wanted you,” he accused.

“That doesn’t mean anything happened. It ended between Rachel and me ten years ago.”

“If that’s true, why did she turn to you instead of me?”

“You refused to make time for her, so she played us against each other just like she always did. It was her juvenile effort to get your attention.”

“Sure looked like more than that to me.” Wade spun around and spurred his horse up the mountain.

Dirk mumbled another curse. He’d said his piece. There was nothing more he could do to convince a brother who wanted to believe the worst.

They rode the next hour in an edgy silence, looking for any sign of the stray cattle but finding only dried-up dung piles. They followed the dung trail farther up the mountain until Wade’s horse unexpectedly shied. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Skoal?”

The wake of turkey buzzards, closely followed by the putrid assault of decaying flesh, provided the answer. Wade made to dismount but Dirk stalled him with his rifle raised. “I despise the ugly mothers.” Aiming into the cluster of birds, he fired to clear the view of the rotting carcass.

Shit! It was worse than he’d feared. The buzzards were picking the bones of not one, but three of the missing herd—a cow and twin calves. Dirk’s chest tightened at the loss. It had taken three years of careful and highly selective breeding to establish the beginnings of a Wagyu herd—not to mention a huge financial risk that Wade wasn’t about to let him forget.

Wade dismounted, crouching with a handkerchief over his nose to examine the half-eaten remains—the obvious work of wolves. A grizzly or mountain lion couldn’t have taken down all three at once. Nor would they have torn away the haunches and eaten the viscera first.

Bad enough they were killing his stock, in this case they were killing his future too. Even if the insurance paid out on the dead cattle, it wouldn’t come close to what he’d invested. He’d busted his ass for the past three years trying to keep the ranch going while everyone else around him was selling out. With the beef market going all to hell, he’d studied every angle in hope of doing better than they’d done in the past.