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same one O’Rourke had taken with his cattle. The small rancher’s passing was plainly marked by the trampled grass, slowly straightening. As they neared the fording place of the river, Webb Calder slowed his horse to a canter, then a walk, his gaze running to the opposite bank.
    â€œWhen the branding’s done, I want you to leave aman behind to check O’Rourke’s fence line, Nate,” he ordered.
    â€œPlanned on it,” the foreman nodded. “I thought a few too many of his cows had strayed for it to be an accident.”
    The comment strummed a chord in Chase’s memory, taking him back to a time when he’d been twelve or thirteen. He had accompanied his father on a fall roundup. On that occasion, a different rancher had more than a hundred cattle “stray” onto the Calder range. There had been a heated and bitter argument between the rancher and his father, the rancher claiming there was more than enough graze for both of them and that his father should share it. His father had ordered the man and his cattle off Calder land and swore he’d shoot the next animal that strayed onto it.
    At the time, it had seemed the man had a valid point. There was enough for all. Later when he’d questioned his father about it, Webb had explained that if he let one small rancher bring his cattle onto the Calder range, he’d set a precedent to admit all the others into his boundaries. Then it wouldn’t be his land anymore. Once a line was drawn, never step back from it to draw a new one. A man had to take a stand or forever retreat.
    Passing the point where the cattle tracks turned down the gently sloped bank to the river, they continued in a straight line to the east gate. The river made a sweeping bend, curving itself closer to their path. When his horse turned its head toward the river, pricking its ears in interest, Chase looked in the same direction to see what had attracted his mount’s attention.
    Through a gap in the trees, he saw a saddle horse tied to a log on the opposite bank. A quick eye caught the Shamrock brand on its hip and Chase reined in sharply. A frown creased his forehead as he searched for thehorses of the other two riders and the reason why the O’Rourke clan had stopped there. Instead, his gaze found clothes hanging from a dead limb of the fallen log, and a second later, he saw the flash of a white body in the river. The figure surfaced and Chase saw the long black hair, wet and shining sleek in the sunlight. A cold smile touched his mouth, a glint of revenge flaring in his dark eyes.
    Nate Moore was the first to notice Chase wasn’t behind them. Checking his horse to a slower walk, he turned in the saddle to look across the several yards that stretched between them. “Boy, you coming?”
    â€œGo on ahead. I’ll catch up with you.” Chase absently waved them forward as he watched the nude girl in the water.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Webb stopped his horse when Chase started to turn back the way they’d come.
    Chase paused long enough to answer. “To settle some unfinished business and even the score.” The faint smile spread into a reckless grin as he finished turning his horse and spurred it into a canter toward the river crossing.
    The sharp-eyed Nate had already spotted the reason. “The O’Rourke girl is skinny-dipping in the river.”
    Webb sighed in faint disgust. “Stealing somebody’s clothes is a boy’s prank. I thought he’d outgrown such things by now.”
    But Nate was less critical. “That girl stung his pride when she made him look silly in front of the boys. If I was him, I might be wanting to get my own back.”
    By his silence, Webb conceded there was some justification for his son’s actions. He pointed his horse toward the east gate again and let it settle into its reaching walk.
    Crossing the river at the ford, Chase turned his horse and followed the