![Adrienne deWolfe - [Wild Texas Nights 03]](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/544306/thumbs/152x264/adrienne-dewolfe-wild-texas-nights-03.jpg)
Hank said. He leveled a baleful look at the sheepherders' side of the room.
"Now, hold on a damned minute." Will Eldridge rose, his short, wiry frame tensing as he confronted Hank. "I'm not sitting on my rear end for two weeks, letting that cougar raid my stock. If he comes to my range, I'm bagging his hide."
Bailey raised her hand, trying to get Zack's attention.
"Then you forfeit the rodeo, Mr. Eldridge," Hank said.
"You aren't in any position to make the rules here, Mr. Rotterdam," Eldridge fired back.
Bailey gave up and simply stood. "For crying out loud, everyone wants that cougar dead. What difference does it make if he's bagged now or two weeks from now? I'll throw in five hundred dollars cash to the man—or woman—who brings me One Toe's pelt. I rather fancy tacking him up beside the female puma hanging over my mantel."
That proposition knocked the wind out of every rancher's sails. She could feel the stunned stares from thirty men drilling into her.
"Five hundred dollars?" Rob Cole repeated in disbelief. He glanced at Mac, as if looking for confirmation. When the Scot made no visible response, the Woolgrowers' vice president raised his troubled gaze to Bailey's. "Why would you want to do that? Your daddy bought his first flock for less than five hundred dollars."
Bailey put on her best business face, but inside, her heart was racing faster than Eldridge's mustang. This is it. The chance I've been waiting for.
"One Toe's been preying on my sheep. He took down a stud ram a couple of weeks ago. I have a stake in that cat's hide just like the rest of you, and I mean to see he's wiped out for good. There's just one condition," she added with masterful aplomb.
Eldridge muttered something about "trouble" and "women."
"Yeah?" Rob demanded suspiciously. "And what condition might that be?"
"I compete on the sheepherder's team."
The Cattlemen's side of the room instantly dissolved into laughter, but Bailey stood her ground. She was counting on pure old-fashioned greed to get the sheepherders to see her way. If they didn't, then she figured the cattlemen would pressure them into it. Even Mac had thought her plan would work, although he hadn't been encouraging. He thought pride was a poor reason to spend five hundred dollars.
"You're out of order, woman," Eldridge barked at her. "Sit down."
"Hey, old man!" Nick started to rise. "You can't talk to her like that!"
Good old Ick, Bailey thought. No one was allowed to mistreat her except him.
Zack, meanwhile, was hammering the table with his gavel. "All right, all right, simmer down, Rotterdam. Miss McShane, you do not have the floor."
"I'd say she just bought the floor, son," Hank drawled, turning to give her a wink. "But seeing as how President Eldridge doesn't want to give the little gal a voice in this discussion, I'd like to know where she plans on getting that five hundred dollars. It seems to me she can't have it handy, since she was complaining to me and my boys only the other night that some lowdown wire cutters cost her that much."
She raised her chin, finding herself in the awkward—not to mention vexing—position of needing Hank's support. She knew Hank would throw his considerable weight behind her only if he saw some personal advantage in it.
"I'm sure my mohair crop will yield at least twice that amount, Hank. But in the less than likely event mohair prices bottom out between now and the fall shearing, I'm sure I can think of a dozen or more ways to raise five hundred dollars." She paused before casually throwing out the bone. "Like leasing my eastern pasture to some drought-stricken cattleman."
A murmur of interest rushed like wildfire along the cattlemen's side of the room. The sheepherders fidgeted, and Rob wore a dire look as he shook his head. Bailey ignored her father's old friend.
"You mean old widow Sherridan's sweet little homestead with the spring-fed stream?" Nat asked, sounding awed. "The very same acreage you outbid Zack
"Now, hold on a damned minute." Will Eldridge rose, his short, wiry frame tensing as he confronted Hank. "I'm not sitting on my rear end for two weeks, letting that cougar raid my stock. If he comes to my range, I'm bagging his hide."
Bailey raised her hand, trying to get Zack's attention.
"Then you forfeit the rodeo, Mr. Eldridge," Hank said.
"You aren't in any position to make the rules here, Mr. Rotterdam," Eldridge fired back.
Bailey gave up and simply stood. "For crying out loud, everyone wants that cougar dead. What difference does it make if he's bagged now or two weeks from now? I'll throw in five hundred dollars cash to the man—or woman—who brings me One Toe's pelt. I rather fancy tacking him up beside the female puma hanging over my mantel."
That proposition knocked the wind out of every rancher's sails. She could feel the stunned stares from thirty men drilling into her.
"Five hundred dollars?" Rob Cole repeated in disbelief. He glanced at Mac, as if looking for confirmation. When the Scot made no visible response, the Woolgrowers' vice president raised his troubled gaze to Bailey's. "Why would you want to do that? Your daddy bought his first flock for less than five hundred dollars."
Bailey put on her best business face, but inside, her heart was racing faster than Eldridge's mustang. This is it. The chance I've been waiting for.
"One Toe's been preying on my sheep. He took down a stud ram a couple of weeks ago. I have a stake in that cat's hide just like the rest of you, and I mean to see he's wiped out for good. There's just one condition," she added with masterful aplomb.
Eldridge muttered something about "trouble" and "women."
"Yeah?" Rob demanded suspiciously. "And what condition might that be?"
"I compete on the sheepherder's team."
The Cattlemen's side of the room instantly dissolved into laughter, but Bailey stood her ground. She was counting on pure old-fashioned greed to get the sheepherders to see her way. If they didn't, then she figured the cattlemen would pressure them into it. Even Mac had thought her plan would work, although he hadn't been encouraging. He thought pride was a poor reason to spend five hundred dollars.
"You're out of order, woman," Eldridge barked at her. "Sit down."
"Hey, old man!" Nick started to rise. "You can't talk to her like that!"
Good old Ick, Bailey thought. No one was allowed to mistreat her except him.
Zack, meanwhile, was hammering the table with his gavel. "All right, all right, simmer down, Rotterdam. Miss McShane, you do not have the floor."
"I'd say she just bought the floor, son," Hank drawled, turning to give her a wink. "But seeing as how President Eldridge doesn't want to give the little gal a voice in this discussion, I'd like to know where she plans on getting that five hundred dollars. It seems to me she can't have it handy, since she was complaining to me and my boys only the other night that some lowdown wire cutters cost her that much."
She raised her chin, finding herself in the awkward—not to mention vexing—position of needing Hank's support. She knew Hank would throw his considerable weight behind her only if he saw some personal advantage in it.
"I'm sure my mohair crop will yield at least twice that amount, Hank. But in the less than likely event mohair prices bottom out between now and the fall shearing, I'm sure I can think of a dozen or more ways to raise five hundred dollars." She paused before casually throwing out the bone. "Like leasing my eastern pasture to some drought-stricken cattleman."
A murmur of interest rushed like wildfire along the cattlemen's side of the room. The sheepherders fidgeted, and Rob wore a dire look as he shook his head. Bailey ignored her father's old friend.
"You mean old widow Sherridan's sweet little homestead with the spring-fed stream?" Nat asked, sounding awed. "The very same acreage you outbid Zack
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