Free Cherished by Jill Gregory Page A

and paced the
room. There was a way out of this, there had to be a way out. She
wouldn’t sit idly by and let herself be sold on the marriage block
like a piece of livestock. If Uncle Edward had made any deals
behind her back, he could just cancel them. She would rather set
out into the world on her own and work her fingers to the bone than
marry a man she did not love.
    Love. What did she know of love? Not one
single thing, Juliana had to admit as she paused before the window
and stared out in agitation at the shadowed mountains. Maybe it
didn’t exist, except in books and fairy tales. Maybe it didn’t come
to girls who laughed at the wrong times or who danced for the sheer
pleasure of it or who unbuttoned their blouses on hot, stuffy
trains—Aunt Katharine said wickedness was never rewarded. But
wicked or not, Juliana knew without a single doubt that she would
not find love with John Breen.
    She had better find a way out.
4
    During the next few days Juliana found
herself thwarted in every attempt to speak privately with her
uncle. He was either closeted with John Breen discussing
“business,” or they were all together: Breen, Aunt Katharine, and
Victoria, and it was impossible for her to broach either her fears,
or her objections to the situation she suspected was brewing. No
matter how many times she tried to waylay her uncle, she never was
able to speak to him alone. But she did manage to avoid being alone
with John Breen, which was something to be thankful for, and to
escape from the ranch every afternoon on horseback. She and
Victoria set about exploring the countryside, but her cousin, not
nearly as adept a rider as Juliana, after a few days pronounced
herself too sore to venture out again. On Friday, Juliana led
Columbine, the mare that had been assigned for her use, from the
corral and prepared to set out alone.
    She needed a diversion from the confines of
the ranch house, which she found oppressive for all its grandness
and comfort. And she needed a release for the tension that had been
building inside her ever since she had arrived at Twin Oaks. She
couldn’t wait to race freely through the wild grasses. Only when
she was alone and far from John Breen’s watchful eye did she feel
she could breathe easily, and convince herself that she would not
be snared into a marriage she didn’t want.
    The cowhands were all out riding the range,
but as she stepped from the corral, admiring the cloudless sapphire
sky that stretched above, she heard angry voices coming from behind
the barn, disturbing the peace of the beautiful spring afternoon.
The voices slashed through the lovely crystal air like the scrape
of knives against each other, jarring her nerves.
    “Don’t ever show your face in this county
again, boy. No cattleman will give you work after this.”
    She recognized Bart Mueller’s voice, even
though she had never heard that harsh note in it before. Juliana
held perfectly still, listening, as beside her the mare pawed the
dust.
    “You’re a liar, Mueller—and Breen, damned if
you don’t know it.” There was no mistaking Gil Keedy’s Texas drawl,
agitated as it was. “I don’t know what kind of a game the two of
you are playing but you know like hell that Mueller’s the one sent
me down to the south pasture to check on those calves. He never
said a word about riding the north range. Why would I have been
busting my back these past few days down by Flat Peak if he hadn’t
told me to do it?”
    “I don’t begin to understand why a lazy,
good-for-nothing hombre like you does anything, Keedy, but you can
get the hell off my ranch.”
    John Breen. The icy smooth, even tones
reached Juliana’s ears with unmistakable clarity. Juliana edged
closer, moving at an angle where she could glimpse behind the barn
as the men continued talking.
    “The boys on the north range were shorthanded
because of you and I can’t afford to have my ranch suffer because
you can’t follow orders,” Breen continued. “Pick