The Cattle Baron

“Not in cozying up to them. I’m a working girl, after all.” She paused. “Do you think you might listen to what I have to say?”

“Regarding what?” He flicked her a brief daunting glance.

“I’ve heard you’re difficult.” She made it sound like a little grumble.

“Really? I don’t hear that too often. Most people up here think I’m very reasonable.”

“Just being a Banfield might account for that. Listen, I’m not a crank.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he said dryly.

“If you know about me, you must know about Dr. Marley.”

“Aren’t you clever?” he mocked. “Marley’s the boyfriend, isn’t he? Hasn’t he got a wife?”

“He’s not the boyfriend!” Rosie burst out as though he’d offered her an insult. “And not that it’s any of your business his wife recently left him.”

“Oh, nice!” He nodded in cynical fashion. “That gives you a bit more leverage. I guess she wants to live a little, not fade away in Marley’s shadow.”

Exactly Rosie’s reflection. “You know her?” she asked in surprise.

“I once saw a photograph of her and Marley in the paper. A few years back. She seemed a repressed little soul. Too sheltered.”

Rosie had no words to deny it. “Right! But Dr. Marley is very highly regarded in his field. You know about his finding and dating of the Winjarra paintings?”

He looked at her hard. “I don’t spend all my life on a horse.”

“I love horses,” Rosie breathed, getting an instant mental picture of Chase Banfield as Alexander the Great.

“Is that so? How are you feeling now?” he added, shocked that he’d almost forgotten what she had endured.

“Light-headed.”

“When we reach town, you can get a good meal into you.”

“I could go for that,” she said, leaning her head back. “A nice dinner…”

“With Marley?” He couldn’t resist it.

Her eyes flew open. “I told you I’m not involved with him in any way other than professionally.”

“Okay.” His voice soothed. “So why are you tagging along with him?”

“I should have told you. Dr. Marley thinks highly of my persuasive powers.”

He gave a brief laugh that made her squirm. “Don’t kid yourself.”

“You’re not being very complimentary. You know what my accident means, don’t you? The fates have chosen to throw us together. I doubt if I’d have got back up the hill without you.”

“You’re dead right,” he said, sounding pretty final.

“Of course, I could have screamed for help.”

“Why do I have the feeling no one would have heard you? Though I suppose Marley would have noticed when you didn’t show up.”

She wished he’d accept that the situation with Marley was not as it obviously seemed. “Can’t we forget Dr. Marley for a minute?” Rosie asked wearily.

“No.” His answer was flat. “I had one conversation with the man. It could last me all my life.”

“Is there a reason you’re not being cooperative?” Rosie complained. “What I need from you—”

He chopped her off. “Do you honestly believe Three Moons was the site of an ancient Egyptian village?” he asked, exasperation in his tone.

Rosie had learned a long time ago to tell the truth. “I honestly don’t, but it would be one heck of a discovery if it was. As I see it, Marley’s not a fool. He’s a brilliant scholar, a renowned archaeologist. And he has something in his possession I think you should see.”

“Don’t tell me, a mummy.” A mocking smile touched his face.

Rosie shuddered. “I wouldn’t be too happy about a mummy. No, this is a scarab.”

His look clearly conveyed I could have told you that. “So where did he get it? One of his mates in Cairo?”

“Are you willing to be open-minded?” she implored.

“No.” He shook his head. “Plain enough, Rosie?”

“Something tells me you haven’t lost the spirit of inquiry, of adventure.” She turned to him earnestly. “Despite your stubbornness.”

“The answer is still no.”

Now she clicked her tongue, folded her arms across her chest. “You’re letting your dislike of the man overrule your intelligence.”

At that he laughed spontaneously. “You know I’m intelligent, do you?”

She patted his arm encouragingly. “I’m not one of those who thinks brawn can’t be matched by brain. Let him talk to you. No more than an hour. There’s only one pub in town, unless you’re staying with a friend. You have to have dinner. We’ll throw in dinner.”

His amusement was still evident. “That’s mighty generous of you, Miss Summers. I take it this dinner will be with Dr. Marley and you?”

She nodded. “And what you see might surprise you,” she said in warm inviting tones.

“What I’d like to see, Rosie, is you dressed up to dine. Not that you wouldn’t be eye-catching at any time.”

“Well, I couldn’t be beautiful, so I went for offbeat.”

“I think you managed a bit of both.”

“You’re being kind,” she said lightly, not considering her appearance a big issue.

“I hate women who push for compliments,” he teased.