Heather Graham Read Online Free PDF Page A

forger.
    Martine decided she had to take the reckless plunge. When she had the check written and returned to the kitchen, he was gone. A frown creased her brow as she wondered just what his game was. Then she raced quickly back through the parlor and out the front door.
    He was already astride the magnificent bay. He smiled at her, reaching for the check. “You should relax a little, you know,” he told her. “That’s a nice pool out back. Go spend some time at it.”
    “I doubt if I could right now,” Martine said sweetly, inclining her head toward the check in his hand. “I’m afraid I’m just not that trusting.”
    He grimaced but seemed not to take offense at her words. Then he stared toward the long driveway to the road, and his eyes, sharply narrowed, came back to hers. “Where are your ranch hands?” he asked.
    She waved vaguely toward the east. “Fixing fences.”
    “On the day you were due to lose the place?”
    She shrugged dryly. “Business as usual. Cattle have to be fed, Kane. And penned. If you plan on being a foreman, you must know that.”
    “Oh, I do know cattle, Ms. Galway,” he said lightly. His smile faded as he added sternly, “Do me a favor. Don’t hang around outside until your men get back. Thor here is a bit of a wonder horse, but we can’t make town and back in the twinkling of an eye.”
    “Thor?” Martine raised a slightly mocking eyebrow.
    “I didn’t name him” was all Kane said. Thor nuzzled Martine’s shirt slightly, then seemed to turn of his own accord.
    Standing in the dusty pathway, Martine was left to wonder when—and if—he would return. The great bay ate the dirt in great lengths with a canter as smooth as the flight of a bird, but at the highway the horse came to an abrupt halt. Kane Montgomery was looking back at her. He lifted a hand in salute and then was gone. Martine stared after him for a long while before she slowly returned to the house. Once there she sat down and stared out the front bay windows for a long, long time. At last she gazed down at her watch. Thank God, it was after twelve!
    She leaped off the old sofa and hurried into the kitchen. Within minutes she had concocted herself a huge, peppery Bloody Mary. The celery would have to do for lunch.
    Long before noon Kane Montgomery rode through the high wrought-iron gates of another ranch. A number of men were breaking a few wild mustangs as he came down the drive, and he waved to the hands, who called out greetings. Moments later he was in front of a huge, white, sprawling ranch house, one that was cool and breezy in the Mexican style. Thor’s hooves clattered lightly over stones in the courtyard; then Kane dismounted from the horse and gave him a firm slap on the hindquarters. He knew Thor; the bay would head straight for the barn, and old Sam would laugh with delight, remove the horse’s saddle and trappings, and probably supply him with a nice handful of the best alfalfa available.
    Kane smiled as he watched the bay trot off, then entered the front door without knocking. There was no one around as he crossed over the Spanish tiles to the bar in the back of the room. He tossed his hat onto a brown leather chair, wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve, then ducked behind the bar to find the refrigerator and dig out an ice-cold beer. It was one hell of a red-hot day.
    The beer went down smoothly. Nursing it along and appreciating the coldness, Kane walked back around the bar to stare out at the dome-screened pool that lay beyond open arches. One hand on his hip, the other wrapped around his beer, he stared at the tranquil setting but didn’t see it. The beer had cooled him, but he had grown hot all over again, thinking of the scene he had interrupted at the Four-Leaf Clover that morning.
    “Martine Galway.” He said her name aloud as if testing it with his tongue. He could still hear the ferocity of her voice as she had fought Lander; he could still see the brilliant blue-green blaze of her eyes