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the collar of his chambray shirt. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s and often just as cold in a face that had the weathered, craggy good looks of a man comfortable in the out-of-doors. A horizontal scar marred his chin, a souvenir of his youth and a slip of the hand when he’d been playing mumblety-peg with his brother.
    Ben ran his hand over the scar now, an absentminded, habitual gesture. He’d been amused when Nate had first informed him of the will. Now that it was coming into effect, it didn’t seem quite so funny.
    â€œHow’s she taking it?”
    â€œHard.”
    â€œShit. I’m sorry for that. She loved that old bastard, Christ knows why.” He took off his hat, raked his fingers through his hair, adjusted it again. “And it’s got to stick in her craw that it’s me.”
    Nate grinned. “Well, yeah, but I think it’d sit about the same with anybody.”
    No, Ben mused, not quite. He wondered if Willa knew that her father had once offered him ten thousand acres of prime bottomland to marry his daughter. Like some sort of fucking king, Ben thought now, trying to merge kingdoms.
    Mercy would give it away, he thought, squinting into the sun. He’d give it away rather than ease his hold on the reins.
    â€œShe doesn’t need either one of us to run Mercy,” Ben said. “But I’ll do what it says to do. And hell . . .” His grin spread slow, arrogant, and shifted the planes on his face. “It’ll be entertaining to have her butting heads with me every five minutes. What are the other two like?”
    â€œDifferent.” Thoughtful, Nate leaned back on the fender of his Range Rover. “The middle one—that’s Lily—she spooks easy. Looks like she’d jump out of her skin if you made a quick move. Her face was all bruised up.”
    â€œShe have an accident?”
    â€œLooked like she’d accidentally run into somebody’s fists. She’s got an ex-husband. And she’s got a restraining order on him. He’s been yanked in a few times for wife battering.”
    â€œFucker.” If there was one thing worse than a man who abused his horse, it was a man who abused a woman.
    â€œShe jumped on staying,” Nate continued, and in his quiet, methodical way began to roll a cigarette. “I have to figure she’s looking at it as a good place to hide out. The older one, she’s slicker. Hails out of LA, Italian suit, gold watch.” He slipped the pouch of Drum back in his pocket, struck a match. “She writes movies and is royally pissed at the idea of being stuck out in the wilderness for a year. But she wants the money it’ll bring her. She’s on her way back to California to pack up.”
    â€œShe and Will ought to get along like a couple of she-cats.”
    â€œThey’ve already been at each other.” Nate blew out smoke contemplatively. “Have to admit, it was entertaining to watch. Adam simmered them down.”
    â€œHe’s about the only one who can simmer Willa down.” With a creak of leather, Ben shifted in the saddle. Spook was growing restless under him, signaling his wishes to be off with quick head tosses. “I’ll be talking to her. I’ve got to check on a crew we sent up to the high country. We’re getting some storms. Mom’s got coffee on at the main house.”
    â€œThanks, but I’ve got to get back. I’ve got work of my own. See you in a day or two.”
    â€œYeah.” Ben called to his dog, watching as Nate climbed into his Range Rover. “Nate—we’re not going to let her lose that ranch.”
    Nate adjusted his hat, reached for his keys. “No, Ben. We’re not going to let her lose it.”
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    I T WAS A GOOD RIDE ACROSS THE VALLEY AND UP INTO the foothills. Ben took it at an easy pace, scanning the land as he went. The cattle were fat; they’d be cutting out some of