“What were the really important ones?” Karen asked.
“He taught me about self-respect and loyalty, about family and duty.”
She thought she saw where this was going. “Was he the one who taught you to hate the Hansons?”
“Not to hate them,” Grady denied. “My grandfather has never hated anyone. He just made me aware that this land should have belonged to his father, that it should have been Blackhawk land.”
“In other words, he planted a seed in your head, watered it regularly and now it’s grown into this obsession,” she said, derision cutting into the admiration she had begun to feel for Thomas Blackhawk.
“It’s not an obsession, Karen. It’s a commitment. I want my grandfather to stand on this land someday, look around and know that it’s back with its rightful owners, that it’s Blackhawk land again.”
“Would he be happy about that if he knew the price you’d paid?” she asked.
“Dollars aren’t the issue,” he told her.
“No,” she agreed. “And I wasn’t talking about the amount of money you say you’re willing to put on the table. I was talking about the rest, the attempts you’ve made to force Caleb, and now me, to sell.”
He regarded her with obvious impatience. “Dammit, I’ve told you I had nothing to do with trying to sabotage your herd.”
“If not you, who?”
“Both things could have been accidents. Cattle get ill. Pastures catch on fire during a dry summer.”
She regarded him evenly. “Do you honestly believe that’s what happened? Isn’t it a little too coincidental that both the outbreak of disease and the fire happened to our herd and no one else’s?”
“I’ll admit it looks suspicious, but I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“So you say.”
“In a lot of very powerful circles, my word is good enough.”
“All that tells me is that the world is filled with foolish people,” she said, stubbornly clinging to her—no, Caleb’s—conviction that Grady couldn’t be trusted. She needed these reminders from time to time. Otherwise, it would be too easy to start to like him a little too much, to begin to believe the pretty words that tripped so easily off his tongue.
He gave her a steady look, one clearly designed to rattle her. “Can you honestly sit there and look me in the eye and tell me that you think I’m capable of trying to destroy your herd just to get what I want? Have I done anything in the last week that was the least bit underhanded? Have I pressured you in any way?”
“No,” she was forced to admit. Not unless the fact that he was here in the first place counted as a crime. The truth was he’d been helpful and considerate. He’d done everything in his power to ingratiate himself with her, tackling odd jobs too long ignored. The ranch buildings had never been in better condition.
“Well, then, shouldn’t you be starting to trust me just a little?” he asked.
“I do,” she conceded with a sigh, then met his gaze. “A little.”
He grinned. “Another good start, darlin’. We’re making progress.”
Karen wasn’t sure they were making the right kind of progress. She was absolutely certain Caleb wouldn’t approve of it. She pushed away from the table, because it was becoming too tempting to linger, to share a second cup of coffee and a little more conversation each time they were together.
“I’d better get these dishes washed,” she said, turning her back on him.
Grady was on his feet at once. “Let me help.”
“No need,” she insisted. “I’m sure you want to be heading home.”
He grinned at that. “Not especially. The company’s better right here. And it’s Saturday night, a time to settle back and relax a little. I brought a video. I thought maybe we could make some popcorn and watch it together.”
The prospect was more alluring than she cared to admit. “Sorry,” she said edgily. “No popcorn in the house.”
“I brought that, too.”
“You do think of everything, don’t you?” she said in a way not meant to be complimentary.
“I try to,” he agreed, not taking offense. “Shall I get the movie, or are you going to turn me down?”
She hesitated, then asked, “What movie is it?”
“One of Lauren’s,” he said with a smug expression. “It just came out on video.”
She frowned at him. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist that, didn’t you?”
“No, but I was hoping.”
The chances to get to Laramie for a movie had been too few and far between. The one she’d seen a week ago had been the first one since before Caleb’s death. The last one of Lauren’s she’d viewed in a theater had been a year ago. She told herself she was merely eager to catch up on her friend’s career, not for the lingering company of the disconcerting man who’d brought the video.
“Get it,” she told him. “I’ll finish up here.”
Grady grabbed his jacket and opened the back door, allowing a blast of frigid air into the kitchen. When he shut it again without taking a step outside, Karen regarded him with curiosity.
“Anything wrong?” she asked.
“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” he said with a wry note in his voice.
She crossed the room and opened the door to see for herself. Great white flakes of snow were swirling around in blinding sheets. She could barely see the lighted outline of the barn in the distance. The ground had already been blanketed with a layer several inches thick. At this rate, the roads would be impassable in no time, if they weren’t already.
Even as the implications of the blizzard sank in, she couldn’t help being awed by the beauty of the snow-covered landscape. Rugged terrain softened and glistened.
She had learned long ago how to weather a storm. There were supplies on hand, a generator to
