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she said, “If need be, I can face my career ending. What I can’t bear is being cloistered. Ever.”
    He held his palms up as if to say he wasn’t going to argue with her. “You want to be reckless, go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”
    Reckless . Anna wished for once she could let herself really go. Right at the moment she’d take immense pleasure in slapping Miguel Chavez’s jaw. “But you’d like to stop me,” she said crisply.
    He let out a rough sigh. To deal with a precocious woman on today of all days was the last thing Miguel needed. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is your ranch. I’m sure you’re going to do what pleases you, and to hell with my wishes.”
    Anna gasped and was totally unaware that her fists had become planted on both her hips. “This isn’t my ranch, either! It belongs to my parents and my aunts and uncles.”
    He glanced pointedly away from her, and Anna realized he was annoyed that she was wasting his time with trivial facts. Well, wasn’t that too bad, she thought. He was the one who’d started all this nonsense in the first place.
    â€œIsn’t that all the same?” he asked.
    â€œNo! And I don’t like the impression I’m getting from you.”
    His dark brows lifted skeptically. “What impression?”
    â€œThat you think I’m—some sort of little princess that has to be condescended to.”
    His nostrils flared, and something dark and dangerous flickered in his hazel eyes. “If you think you can make me believe for one minute that you’ve ever had to suffer and struggle to make ends meet, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m not a fool, Anna. You were born into wealth, and you wouldn’t know what it was like to be without it.”
    He was so wrong that she didn’t even want to try to correct his thinking. And where was his thinking coming from? It didn’t matter, she told herself fiercely. What Miguel Chavez thought of her was his own problem.
    â€œMy mother said you were a good man. Obviously she doesn’t know you.”
    Anna turned and stomped away from him. She went straight to the branding pen, climbed the metal fence and jumped to the ground inside. Let Miguel be put out with her, she thought angrily. She was home on vacation. If she wanted to help with roundup, she would.
    An hour later sweat was pouring down her face, tracking the fine dust coating her skin. She’d long ago shed her jean jacket, and manure now stained the front of her pink cotton shirt and splotched her chaps. But none of those discomforts bothered Anna nearly as much as Miguel’s earlier remarks had. She was still seething over his attitude, and though he’d been working only a few steps away from her, she’d done little more than grunt in his direction.
    â€œYou better watch out, Anna. This one is a strong cuss,” the cowhand warned as he bulldogged the half-grown calf to the ground.
    Someone appeared with a branding iron just as she managed to grab the calf’s two back legs. “I’m watching,” Anna assured him, “just hurry and—”
    Anna’s next word never got past her lips. The next thing she knew the ground slammed against her back and bright white lights were floating in front of her eyes.
    â€œAnna! Anna, can you hear me?”
    The deep male voice persisted, demanding she wake up and open her eyes. Anna struggled to see through the cobwebs floating around in her head.
    â€œMiguel? Is that you?” she asked weakly.
    Cool, rough fingers touched her temple, and she realized something was wrong with her head. Pain was zinging through it like bolts of lightning.
    â€œYes. It’s Miguel,” the male voice answered.
    A strong arm slid beneath her shoulders and pillowed her upper body in a half-sitting position. “What...happened?” she asked.
    â€œYou’ve been kicked,” he said