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day.”
    Adrianna frowned curiously. “You didn’t mention where you and Lucas are living. In the apartment upstairs or at the ranch?”
    â€œBoth places, depending on our workload,” Rosa explained. “If you want to stay the night in our apartment while we are at the ranch, overseeing the construction of our new home, you are always welcome to use it.”
    â€œThank you. And, Rosa?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI’m ever so glad to be here with you.”
    Rosa grinned over her shoulder. “Me, too, Cuz. Texas is perfect for you. You’ll see.”
    Adrianna followed Rosa into the workroom to make her first official acquaintance in Ca-Cross. Meeting Quin didn’t count because she didn’t consider that aggravating rascal a potential friend. And just wait until he found out what she had in store for him.
    Call her Boston, would he? Dismiss her as an ineffective ranch manager? Ha! He would rue the day he belittled her when she was hell-bent on making a fresh new start. She had yet to begin to put Quin Cahill in his place!
    Â 
    Quin was dead tired. He’d spent the past week riding the range, sorting out the calves he planned to take on the spring cattle drive to Dodge City. Although the railroad had finally reached Ca-Cross, the cattle buyers from Chicago meatpacking companies sent their agentsto Dodge, so Dodge was where Quin headed each spring and fall.
    He breathed a sigh of relief when he glanced down the rolling hill to see his house, bunkhouse, barns and sheds. As soon as he and his cowhands corralled the cattle he’d brought in for branding, he planned to soak in the bathtub for at least an hour. Maybe more. Then he planned to prop up his aching legs and catch a nap. After that, he’d amble down to the bunkhouse to see what the chuckwagon cook had stirred up for supper.
    Once his men penned up the special group of calves that represented the 4C’s finest beef stock, Quin glanced around the area and frowned. “Where’s Rocky Rhodes?” he asked the men that had remained behind to tend daily ranch chores.
    The cowboys glanced away and tried to look exceptionally busy. Unease trickled down Quin’s spine. “Damnation, is Rock hurt? Or did he receive word that his family in Missouri needed him?”
    Quin always counted on Rock, his efficient foreman. Rock had a good rapport with the cowboys and he was an expert on cattle. Quin never worried when he left for a trail drive because Rock was in charge.
    â€œWell? Where is he?” Quin demanded impatiently.
    Skeeter Gregory, the leather-faced, wiry cowboy who was Rock’s right-hand man, glanced down at the toes of his boots, as if they suddenly demanded his absolute attention. He dragged in a breath, then said, “Rock ain’t here no more. He quit four days ago and he left me in charge.”
    â€œHe quit?” Quin roared in disbelief. “What the hell for?”
    A strange silence descended on the group of cowboys. Even the bawling calves that had been weaned from their mamas piped down for a moment.
    Skeeter squinted up at him. “He got a better job offer and he told me to tell you no hard feelings.”
    â€œA better job?” Hell’s jingling bells! No one paid better wages than 4C. That’s how Quin had kept the top hands after his family of traitors had ridden off to make new lives for themselves and left him short-handed.
    Quin bounded from the saddle and stalked up to Skeeter, who still seemed exceptionally fascinated with the scuffed toes of his high-heel boots. “What the hell is really going on?” Quin demanded sharply.
    â€œYou ain’t gonna like this, boss,” Skeeter mumbled.
    â€œI already don’t like it. Where is Rock’s new job?”
    Finally, Skeeter’s hazel-eyed gaze lifted to face Quin’s annoyed frown. “That pretty Miz McKnight came over to hire him to run her spread.”
    â€œWhat!” Quin