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father looked about ready to burst.
    “Well?” Brenden said impatiently.
    “Perhaps we could buy the foal,” Caitlyn suggested.
    “I want the mare and the foal,” Brenden said, practically shouting.
    “Well, you can’t have the mare,” Caitlyn replied calmly.
    “I should have let Wylie string him up,” Brenden muttered under his breath, and then he fixed Rafe Gallegher with a hard stare. “Well, how about it? Will you sell me the foal?”
    “It’ll be eleven months before Black Wind drops that foal, if she’s in foal. And another six months or so until it’s weaned. What am I supposed to do until then?”
    “You can stay here until the foal’s born,” Brenden said.
    “As a prisoner?”
    “No, we’ll forget about all that,” Carmichael replied. He was calmer, more rational, now that he was about to get at least a part of what he wanted. And he’d make certain the mare conceived. He’d breed her to Red until she settled, no matter how long it took. “I’ll pay you a decent wage, and give you two hundred dollars for the foal.”
    “What if Black Wind aborts, or the foal’s born dead?”
    “That’s a chance you’ll have to take. In the meantime, you’ll have a job and three meals a day. What do you say?”
    The offer was more than fair, Rafe allowed. If he accepted Carmichael’s terms, he would have a place to live, a chance to save some money for a place of his own. He studied Carmichael’s face, wondering if he could trust the man, and then he glanced at Caitlyn. He had vowed never to love again, but he didn’t intend to live like a eunuch, either. Caitlyn Carmichael was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and it occurred to him that spending the next eighteen months or so on her father’s ranch might not be so bad after all.
    He rose slowly to his feet and stuck out his hand. “It’s a deal.”
    Rafe had been on the ranch ten days when the seven cowhands who had been out on the range returned to the Circle C. To a man, they were appalled to learn that the boss had hired a half-breed in their absence.
    Luther assured them that the situation was only temporary, and that Gallegher would be gone as soon as the black mare foaled and the foal was weaned. Luther was the ranch foreman, and Caitlyn knew it was only because the men admired and respected Luther that they agreed to stay on, but they grumbled about working alongside a half-breed just the same.
    It took several weeks for Rafe’s ribs to heal. In that time, he did little more than rest in the shade. He was unfailingly polite to Caitlyn and her father, though he spoke little unless spoken to.
    Mealtimes were filled with tension. Seated at the far end of the table opposite her father, Caitlyn was ever aware of the animosity that stretched like an invisible wire between Rafe and Abner. It was evident that Rafe had not forgotten Abner’s eagerness to string him up, nor had he forgotten Abner’s derogatory remarks, or the fact that Abner had kicked him while he was down.
    Abner was outspoken, blunt to the point of rudeness. The first night he sat at the table and learned that Rafe would be joining them, he had made several nasty remarks about heathen Indians, and it was only when Brenden had told Abner in words direct and to the point that Gallegher was riding for the brand that Abner curbed his tongue. Brenden also remarked that anyone who wasn’t happy with the seating arrangements could take their meals outside.
    Later, Caitlyn had told her father that she feared there would be trouble between the two men if Abner didn’t learn to keep his mouth shut in Rafe’s presence.
    Brenden had laughed heartily. “You can bet your bottom dollar there’s going to be trouble,” he had agreed. “It’s only a matter of time.”
    Caitlyn was pondering her father’s words several days later when Rafe entered the kitchen where she was crimping the edge of a pie crust.
    Caitlyn nodded in his direction. “Mr. Gallegher.”
    “Miss