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into the cabin. At the last second it whirled toward the water, bellowing and shoving smaller cattle aside. Spring calves frolicked among the older animals, kicking up their heels, turning the rush to water into playtime. The cattle crowded together in the narrow space between the cabin and the pond. One of them kicked and smashed a stretch of the south porch railing.
    A cow shoved against the porch by the herd, leapt up onto it, and faced Aaron. She pawed the wooden floor with her front hooves and lowered her head to present a stretch of sharp horns. For a tense moment Aaron wondered if the cow, which probably weighed a thousand pounds, would charge him. Then the red-and-white beast turned as if remembering the water and jumped through a hole in the railing, taking another chunk out. She disappeared into the herd. They all had a big C branded on their rumps.
    A rider trotted into the clearing, saw him, and pulled his brown thoroughbred to a halt so suddenly it reared. Even in the dimness of the evening, it was the work of seconds to take the newcomer’s measure. No doubt this was the man in charge. Though Aaron had never seen him before, he’d been in Aspen Ridge about ten minutes before he’d heard of him.
    Gage Coulter, owner of the C Bar Ranch.
    Riding the shining stallion he’d brought with him from Texas. It was said he was a man who’d moved here because Texas wasn’t big enough for both him and his pa. He owned five thousand acres and controlled fifty thousand more, and from the coldly stunned look on Coulter’s face, it was more than clear that he thought he controlled this pond, too.
    Coulter dragged his broad-brimmed hat off his head. His overly long brown hair matched his horse so perfectly they seemed to be a pair. Coulter rode straight for the porch while longhorns spread out along the edge of the pond. The first cattle to the water were shoved in with a loud splash that sounded beneath the hooves that near shook the ground.
    Others waded in on their own. The bawling eased as the drinking began. The blue water turned to mud.
    Coulter’s eyes jumped from Aaron to the cabin to the barn and back to Aaron. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
    The words cracked like a whip, but somehow Aaron was tempted to smile. He had a feeling it was a rare thing for Coulter, one of the biggest cattle barons in the state, to be taken by surprise.
    Aaron didn’t know the land all that well yet—he was new to the area still—but he’d bet that pond was a mighty dependable watering hole, and one Coulter used regularly. Especially at the height of summer.
    As the cattle trampled all the things that had made this tidy homestead so pretty, Aaron lost the urge to smile.
    It was clear the man had no idea that someone had homesteaded this little corner of his territory. Aaron holstered his Colt and switched the Sharps to his right hand. Coultermight be a powerful man, even a tyrant, but he was no killer. There was trouble here, yet it wouldn’t come to shooting.
    The door behind him slammed open, and he already knew Kylie well enough to grab her as she charged around him.
    “You get your cattle off my land!” Grabbing her didn’t stop her from talking.
    Glancing down, he saw the real Kylie for the first time. Not soaking wet. Not dressed like a man. He had no time to enjoy the sight, though it was a fine one.
    “ Your land?” Coulter’s light gray eyes—cold as ice—looked at her, then at Aaron, clearly dismissing Kylie’s claim of the land being hers. Coulter would want to deal with the man of the family. “No nester is going to come in here and squat right on top of one of my best water holes.”
    “No cowboy is going to come here and insult me on my own property,” Kylie sassed back.
    Coulter gave Kylie a look of disgust, then hesitated and looked closer. Coulter shook his head fast, and his eyes went to Aaron. “You and your wife have ten minutes to clear out. Eleven minutes from now I’m burning every