Free Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

town, they had confiscated all the
horses for their troops. Her family had lost so
much because of the war.
    But time passed, and they had a new life now.
Absently, she gave the gelding a pat.
    She was not concerned when she heard a rider
approaching; she expected it to be Sam or Gabe.
She placed her hand above her eyes to shade
them from the sunlight.
    The rider's horse was completely white, definitely a thoroughbred. She couldn't see much of
the man's face from this distance, but he was a
stranger. He must have noticed her standing by
the corral, because he rode in that direction. She
watched him dismount and walk toward her.
    He removed his hat with perfunctory politeness. "Ma'am," he said as though he were not sure
she deserved the courtesy.

    His hair was dark, speckled with gray, and she
would place him somewhere in his fifties. He was
a tall man with wide shoulders. His face might
have been called handsome except that his eyes
were cold and devoid of feeling-almost like dead
eyes, and she found she could not look into them,
so she turned her head away.
    "Good afternoon," Casey answered, waiting for
him to tell her his name and state his business.
    "I'm your neighbor." His words were spoken
softly, but they still sounded harsh and angry. "I
heard in town that there were squatters on the
Spanish Spur, and I came by to see for myself.
You'll find we don't take kindly to people living
where they don't belong. No one in town seems
to know anything about your bunch, so why don't
you just tell me what you're doing here?"
    He went straight to the point, not bothering
with niceties, and she answered him in the same
manner. "Why don't you tell me who you are and
what interest you have in the Spanish Spur? And
then I'll tell you my name, and what I'm doing
here."
    His eyes hardened even more. "It's none of
your business who I am, young woman. I'll give
you until tomorrow to pack up and be gone.
You'd better heed me well. If you aren't gone by
sundown you'll regret it. And I'll be back to make
sure you aren't still here.."
    Her anger hit a quick zenith. "You are the one
who will leave and not come back. This ranch was
left to my family by our uncle. And neither you nor anyone else is going to make us leave."

    He digested that bit of news and nodded. "That
figures-you got a Southern-like accent, and I
knew Bob had kin in Virginia. I wrote to a man
named Hamilton asking to buy the Spanish Spur,
but he wrote back that the place belonged to his
children, and he wasn't selling."
    Her spine straightened, and her chin went up.
"That would have been my father." Ordinarily she
would have invited a stranger into the house and
offered him refreshments, but this man deserved
no such courtesy.
    She stood her ground as if guarding her domain.
    "I'm Cyrus Slaughter." He paused for effect,
then said, "Maybe you've heard of me?"
    Although she had already guessed who he was,
she cringed inside at the mention of that name.
She was afraid of him, but she wasn't about to let
him know it. Casey met his angry gaze with a
steadfast one of her own. "I have heard that you
will probably cause my family problems. Are you
here to make trouble for us, Mr. Slaughter?"
    "Ma'am, you don't know what trouble is until
you've crossed me. I want you to make sure to
remember that we had this conversation."
    She stepped backward, shocked at the venom
in his tone. She was about to answer him when
she saw jenny come out the front door and run
toward her. Casey shook her head and motioned
for her sister to go back, but the child didn't stop until she could grab Casey's hand and glance inquisitively at the newcomer.

    Jenny had a sunny disposition and treated no
one like a stranger, but at the moment she was
oddly silent, as if she recognized that this man was
not a friend. She tugged on Casey's hand. "Let's
go into the house."
    Lifting jenny in her arms, Casey battled between anger and fear; fear finally won.