Free Canyon Shadows by Harper Vonna Page A

truck, she fought the impulse to touch him again. She was used to watching her own back, had learned that lesson before she’d learned how to read. Maco didn’t have to think he had to take over that responsibility, yet he had.
    “There’s a gun rack in the cab,” she pointed out unnecessarily. “And two rifles in the rack. They can’t seriously—”
    “Who knows what Roe and his friends want? The sheriff warned me that he’s both determined and unpredictable.”
    A sharp creaking alerted her to the opening truck doors. Roe—she guessed he was the driver—was heavyset with a beer belly, in need of a shave and wearing baggy worn jeans and cracked boots. His T-shirt had once been white. Although the three other men weren’t as heavy, their clothing was similar. Their deeply tanned faces and forearms let her know they spent much of their days out-of-doors. Any other time she might have admired their blue-collar strength and determination. Bruce and Tucker growled.
    “What’s that?” Maco asked.
    “They’re picking up on our tension.”
    “Damn it,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you leave?”
    Because I’m not the terrified child I once was. “I want to hear what they have to say. I need to.”
    Roe squared himself so he was facing Maco. However, his attention was split between her and the dogs. “What’s this?” He jerked his head at the Dobermans.
    “What do you think it is?” Maco’s tone, although calm, held a warning undertone. “What brought you here? You said you were done talking.”
    “I am, cowboy .” Roe’s dry lips lifted as he jerked his head at Maco’s revolver. “There’s nothing wrong with my showing my friends around, right? You don’t own the land.”
    The way Maco shook his head said he was already weary of the conversation. “It’s federal land, Roe. You know that.”
    “And I’m a taxpayer. Also, I’ve got more land than most people, which means my taxes count more than yours. Or hers.”
    Damn Roe! He was undressing her with his eyes, as were the three clones planted behind him. If there was one thing she hated, it was being treated like a sexual object. Telling herself that they were doing so in an attempt to either anger or intimidate her didn’t help. Surely they didn’t consider themselves God’s gift to women.
    “Your beef isn’t with me.” Maco’s eyes all but drilled holes in Roe. “You and I have been over this before, same as you heard from the courts. The legal objections have been presented and decided on. The dam’s a go.”
    “Because those fuckin’ judges are being paid off,” one of the other men insisted. He didn’t take his attention off the dogs. “Money talks. Dirty money, not what’s needed to keep us ranchers here from being shut out and going bust.”
    From what she knew, much of the objection to the dam had come from local ranchers concerned that limitations on what they’d be allowed to draw out of Graves River would leave them without adequate irrigation. She’d initially sympathized with the ranchers’ position until she’d learned that most of the water was earmarked for the vast agricultural, farming, and ranching lands to the south. Realizing how complex water-allocation issues were, she was glad she wasn’t a judge or lawyer.
    “I understand your position,” Maco said. “Until you have proof that you’ll still have what water you need, you’re going to be uneasy. But your argument isn’t with me. My job is to help get the dam built. For the record, I believe in the need for it. Otherwise, my brother and I wouldn’t be here.”
    The man who’d spoken vigorously shook his head but didn’t say anything more, making her wonder if Roe had been chosen, or had chosen himself, as spokesperson.
    “We’re just here to get an idea of what’s actually being done,” Roe said. “Seeing all those graphs and charts and aerial maps isn’t the same as the real thing. Interesting about that fencing.” He jabbed a finger at