sheâd done it all by herself. Damn him! Damn his interference! Damn the man for being such a damn good kisser!
If Nathan Hazard knew what was good for him, he wouldnât show his face around here anytime soon.
Chapter 4
What do you do when people drop by to visit and they havenât been invited?
Answer: Serve them coffee.
H arry was standing in the pigpen, slopping the hogs and thinking about Nathan, when she spied a pickup bumping down the dirt road that led to her place. At first she feared it was her nemesis and began tensing for another battle with Nathan. But the battered truck wasnât rusted in the right places to be Nathanâs. After two months of being left so completely alone, Harry was surprised to have visitors. She couldnât help wondering who had come to see her, and why.
The man who stepped out of the driverâs side of the beat-up vehicle was a stranger. Harry stood staring as a beautiful woman dressed in form-fitting jeans and a fleece-lined denim jacket shoved open the passenger door of the truck. The couple exchanged a glance that led Harry to believe they must be married, probably some of her neighbors, finally come to call.
The slight blonde woman approached her and said, âHello, Iâm Abigail Dayton. Fish and Wildlife Service.â
Harry was dumbfounded. The woman was a government official! What on earth was someone from the Fish and Wildlife Service doing here? Her heart caught in her throat, keeping her from responding. Her mind searched furiously for the reason for such a visit. Had she done something wrong? Broken some law? Forgotten to fill out some form? Had she let too many lambs die? Was there a penalty for that?
Harry recognized the instinct to flee and fought it. She had come west to start over, to confront her problems and deal with them. She would have to face this woman and find out what she wanted. Only first she had to get out of the pigpen, which wasnât as easy as it sounded.
Harry finally resorted to climbing over the top of the pen instead of going through the gate, which was wired shut. She heard a rip when heroveralls caught on a stray barb but ignored it as she extended her hand to the Fish and Wildlife agent. When the woman didnât take her hand immediately, Harry realized she was still wearing her work gloves, tore them off and tried again. âIâm Harriet Alistair. People mostly call me Harry.â
âItâs nice to meet you, Harry,â Abigail said. She shook Harryâs hand once, then let it go.
Harry turned and looked steadily at the tall, dark-haired, gray-eyed man standing beside Abigail Dayton, until he finally held out a callused hand and said, âIâm Luke Granger, your neighbor to the south. Sorry I havenât been over to see you sooner.â
Harry was so glad Luke Granger was just a neighbor and not another government official that she smiled, exposing the tiny space between her teeth, and said, âIâve been pretty busy myself. Itâs good to meet you.â
So, one agent, one neighbor. Not related. But still no explanation as to why theyâd come.
Harry felt a growing discomfort as she watched Luke and Abigail survey her property. It wasnât that they openly displayed disgust or disbelief at what they saw; in fact, they were both careful to keep their expressions neutral. But a tightening of Lukeâs jaw and a clenching of Abigailâs hand made their feelings plain.
Harry wasnât exactly ashamed of her place.After all, she was hardly responsible for the sad state of repairs. But her stomach turned over when Abigail narrowed her green-eyed gaze on the stack of dead lambs beside the barn that were only partially covered by a black plastic tarp. Harry waited for the official condemnation that was sure to come.
âHave you seen any wolves around here?â Abigail asked.
âWolves?â That wasnât at all what Harry had been expecting the Fish and
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