Free Last Chance Cowboys: The Drifter by Anna Schmidt Page B

assumptions he was making without the slimmest bit of proof. “Roger, stop this. Chet Hunter is no threat to you. He has proven himself to be a good worker, and right now, we need good workers. We are shorthanded,” she reminded him.
    â€œI came back,” he fumed.
    â€œThat you did, but where were you this morning?”
    â€œI had to go into town—some unfinished business. I’m back to stay, Maria.”
    â€œBut the men who left with you are not. We are still short of a full group, and there’s the rest of the branding to be done, and then we have to move the herd to market—” She stopped. She understood that Roger needed a gesture, some assurance that she trusted him and had accepted him back into the fold. Recalling what Chet had said about it maybe being better to have Roger on her ranch instead of working for the Tiptons, she pulled off her riding gloves and placed her hand on his forearm. “Roger, don’t fight me on this. I need you.”
    â€œAnd Hunter?”
    She sighed. Experience had taught her that Roger was a jealous man, perceiving every new man as a potential threat. “The men have accepted him. Why can’t you?”
    â€œMaybe it’s because I know that any man who is that far from home with no sign of having a plan is a man with something to hide. He’s trouble, Maria, and even your father would have doubts about such a man.”
    He was right. For all his generosity and kindness to men like Chet, by now her father would have expected to know a good deal more, and he certainly never would have offered a complete stranger the foreman’s job. Nor would he have allowed such a man to witness firsthand his wife’s fragile state, as Chet already had twice. But something about this particular drifter told Maria that whatever his past, whatever his secret might be, it had nothing to do with his ability to do the job. “He’s a good hand, Roger, and right now, I can’t afford to let that pass.”
    â€œSuit yourself, Maria. Just be prepared to wake up one morning and find him long gone, and maybe your best horse with him.” He started to walk away but stopped, not looking back at her. “I need to know, Maria. Who’s in charge?”
    She knew what he was asking. She also knew that it would be a mistake to choose. “I am. Tomorrow we move the herd.”

Five
    â€œTurnbull’s had another run-in with Miss Maria—best stay clear,” Bunker warned all the men that evening. “You especially, Hunt. That man is a powder keg sitting next to a campfire if you ask me. Real strange the way he keeps taking off for town, and the way he just hightailed it out of here that morning a couple weeks ago and then came crawling back.”
    â€œGot no plans to be in his company unless it can’t be helped. You gonna deal those cards or sit there shuffling them till they give you the hand you need?”
    â€œJust keep on acting like you don’t understand a fair warning, Hunt. You don’t know this man and you do not want to cross him.” Bunker started doling out the cards. A few of the other men—including Rico—nodded.
    â€œGot no reason to know him or cross him. On the other hand, if he’s got some bone to pick with me, I expect sooner or later, we’re gonna need to have a conversation.” Chet discarded a couple of cards and waited for Bunker to replace them. “What is it you think he wants?”
    â€œHe wants you gone,” Happy muttered, pushing three matchsticks into the pile in the center of the table.
    Chet smiled as he waited for the rest of the group to place their bets or fold and then laid out his hand—three tens. “Then he’s got nothin’ to worry about.”
    â€œYou figuring on leavin’ us already?” Bunker thundered, slamming his cards on the table as Chet collected his matchsticks.
    â€œDidn’t say nothin’ about