Free Every Breath She Takes by Norah Wilson Page B

off.
    “What a charming man.” This from Marlena, whose gaze was glued to McLeod’s retreating back.
    “He’s a bastard. And a vulture,” pronounced Brady. “Just waitin’ for another cattleman to go down so he can swoop in and pick the bones.”
    Cal wished he had a cigarette, an indulgence he rarely allowed himself. “He’s waiting for his chances all right, but he does pay a fair price. Can’t fault him there. And at least he’s a rancher, of sorts.”
    “Yeah, the sort that puts men out of work,” Brady scoffed.
    “I don’t get it.” Marlena wrinkled her nose. “How can running a lucrative operation put people out of work?”
    “Technology.” Cal lifted his hat and let the breeze cool his sweat-soaked hairline. “You don’t need a branding crew, for instance, if you can staple a computer chip in a newborn calf’s ear.” He squinted against the sun, then replaced his hat. “But it could be worse. They could have sold out to a developer for a helluva lot more money.”
    Marlena snorted. “What’s wrong with development? I’d sell in a minute if it was mine.”
    “Don’t I know it,” Cal muttered under his breath.
    “What is wrong with development?” asked Lauren. “Don’t you have to accept a certain amount of it?”
    He shot her a sharp look. Oh Christ, she was just like the rest of them, knowing nothing about this ancient ecosystem and caring less. And she wondered why he hated this gig. The rawness of his disappointment surprised him. Somehow he thought she’d share his position.
    “What’s wrong with development?” His disappointment lent his voice a sharper than usual edge. “How about because this is one of this freaking planet’s last intact bioregions? How about because we need agricultural balance for clean watersheds, wildlife, even weather? Developers would throw up fences, and the big game would disappear overnight. There’d be more recreational vehicles and people disrupting things. Few years, it would be ecological disaster. California North .”
    “He must be awfully rich,” Marlena said.
    Cal suppressed a sigh, not because his rant had flowed around his self-absorbed ex-wife like so much prairie wind;he’d expected nothing less. No, he sighed at Brady’s reaction, a reflexive fisting of the reins. His mount jumped at having her bit bumped for no good reason. Christ, why’d Marlena have to pick herself a kid? Especially this kid?
    “Harvey McLeod can likely afford everything from the prairie grass to the Rockies, but he’s not getting this piece of Alberta.” Cal spat, but he couldn’t quite get the taste of fear out of his mouth. “Let’s go.”
    Without looking back to make sure they followed, he urged Sienna into a ground-eating gait.

    It was midafternoon before they got back to the ranch. Lauren felt limp as soggy lettuce, and Marlena looked worse. Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren watched the other woman tend to her mount. Cal was right. She was a good horsewoman, and even in her hungover state she didn’t stint on the rubdown. The mare gleamed by the time she was done. Afterward, to Lauren’s surprise, Marlena stopped to talk to her.
    “I’m not suicidal, you know.”
    “I didn’t imagine you were. Most overdoses are accidental.”
    For an instant, it was as though a curtain lifted and Lauren could see the depth of Marlena’s loneliness, the breadth of her fear. Then the veil dropped again. “I’d have been all right.”
    Lauren nodded. “I think so too, but I was following protocol, and I’d do it again.”
    By the time she got the words out, she was talking to Marlena’s back. Lauren watched the other woman go, her stride exuding confidence and sexuality so at odds with the haunted look Lauren had glimpsed so fleetingly in those green eyes. For just a few seconds, Marlena had looked more like a little girl than a siren.
    Lauren shook her head to dislodge the notion. Geez, she must be more tired than she thought. There was nothing