Free Taming of Jessi Rose by Beverly Jenkins Page A

fancy black carriage. One of the mounted riders was trailing a cow.
    â€œIt’s Reed Darcy, and he’s stealing our cows again!”
    Joth stalked over to his mount and pulled the rifle from his saddle’s scabbard.
    Watching him, Griff felt his eyes widen. As the determined boy fed cartridges into the gun. Griff held up his hands. “Whoa, there! What’re you doing?”
    â€œProtecting what’s mine. I promised Gramps.”
    Griff could see that the boy’s blood ran as fiercely as his Aunt Jessi’s. “Well, how about we try and talk this out first? A firearm might not be necessary.” Even though Griff had on a gunbelt, he hoped he wouldn’t have to use the Colt it held.
    â€œReed Darcy doesn’t talk,” Joth replied firmly.
    Griff waited silently.
    â€œAll right,” Joth offered in surrender. “But if he shoots us, you’re going to have to answer to Aunt Jessi, not me.”
    Griff grinned in spite of the tension. “I won’t let him shoot us. Don’t worry.”
    The men didn’t seem to care that they’d been spotted. In fact, they rode right up to where Griff and Joth stood.
    â€œThat’s a Clayton cow!” Joth declared accusingly, as the party reined their horses to a stop.
    Griff placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder to calm him a bit.
    In the fancy black carriage sat a middle aged, brown-skinned man with pomaded hair. Dressed nattily in an expensive-looking dark suit and string tie, he had the girth of a man who lived well. He responded to Joth’s angry accusation with a cold smile. “Now Joth, where are your manners? I’m sure your aunt taught you not to speak to adults unless you’re spoken to first.” The brittle black eyes assessed the boy. Then, as if deeming him unworthy of a further audience, the man pointedly ignored him and turned to Griff. “Afternoon, son. Who’re you?”
    â€œName’s Blake.”
    Darcy took a moment to look Griffin over. “Are you the man my son and his wife met in Abe’s store yesterday?”
    â€œYes. And you are?”
    â€œReed Darcy. I own most of the land around here,” he boasted.
    Griffin was not impressed. “Is that a Clayton cow?”
    â€œNot sure,” Darcy lied easily. “The boys and I found it just sort of wandering around. But I’m having some friends over later in the week. I thought it would make a good barbecue candidate.”
    Griff assessed the two riders escorting Darcy, then asked coolly, “Is there a brand?”
    â€œI didn’t think to look,” he said, eyeing Griff.
    â€œWell, why don’t we look now, just so there’s no misunderstandings later?”
    â€œHow about we don’t and I give you some advice instead? Nobody around here works for the Claytons. Bad for the health, if you catch my meaning.”
    â€œOh, really?”
    â€œYep, and if you have any sense, you’ll pack your gear and ride out.”
    Griff hated being told what to do, especially by a man in a fancy suit and tie. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I’ve never been one to have much sense, so I think I’ll stick around. Besides, I especially like meeting men who pick fights with women and children.”
    Darcy’s face flashed with anger. “You’re a pretty uppity cowboy.”
    â€œThank you.”
    The two men assessed each other and neither appeared to like what they were seeing.
    One of the riders, a tall lean man with bad teeth interrupted to ask Griff, “Don’t I know you?”
    Griff slowly turned his attention away from Darcy’s angry face. “Maybe.”
    â€œYeah, I do, but your name wasn’t Blake.”
    The man paused a minute, staring intently, as if trying to place Griff, then declared, “You used to rob trains. Saw your picture in the paper in Omaha a few years back. Oklahoma Red!”
    Griff executed a slight bow.
    Darcy asked his employee,