Secondhand Bride by Linda Lael Miller Page A

in front of God and everybody. I spent the night in some cheap boardinghouse and steered clear of her until Kade showed up a week later and talked me into coming back here.”
    Now it was Angus who spat. “I don’t reckon I need to tell you what I think of the way you treated her,” he said.
    Jeb picked up the shovel, jammed it into the hole, and flung out a spray of dirt. “No,” he agreed, “you don’t. But you probably will, anyhow. And what about the way she treated me?”
    Angus didn’t move, and he let the question pass unanswered. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeb could see that the old coot had his arms folded again, and the brim of his weather-beaten hat shadowed his face. “Chloe seemed pretty sure she was your wife,” he said, “not that other fella’s.”
    “She’s a good liar and an even better actress.” Jeb hit a rock with the end of the shovel, and the impact reverberated up both his arms to ache in his shoulders.
    “One way or the other,” Angus persisted quietly, “this isn’t something you can run away from. You need to settle it, boy. For your own sake, and for hers.”
    Jeb gripped the shovel handle in both his blistered hands and sent it flying back over his head. It landed beyond the barbed-wire fence, on Circle C property, with a resounding clank. “I’m not running away!” he yelled.
    “That isn’t the way I heard it,” Angus said.
    Rafe and Kade. Damn them. They’d probably had a good time telling the old man how Chloe Wakefield chased their little brother all the way from town and finally cornered him behind the bunkhouse.
    “Go and talk to her,” Angus said.
    “It’s no damn use!” Jeb raged. “Chloe and I don’t talk , we yell at each other!”
    Angus smiled as he turned away. “That’s encouraging,” he said. “And fetch back that shovel before you head for town. Contrary to common opinion around this place, I’m not made of money.”

8
     
     
    G et back to the ranch. Go to town. Jeb wished Rafe and Angus would get together and agree on what the hell he was supposed to do. If this was a taste of what it was going to be like when either Rafe or Kade took full control of the ranch, he might as well shoot himself.
    Angrily, he collected his tools, including the shovel, and threw them into the bed of the buckboard. After shrugging back into his shirt, he climbed up, took the reins, released the brake lever, and drove the horses hard for home. Mandy was in the barn when he got there, brushing down a fine pinto gelding—she’d made Kade give her fifty head of good horseflesh and most of the money in his bank account after they were married, because of some agreement between them—and for the first time in recent memory, Jeb got some sympathy.
    Mandy smiled. “Aren’t you in a state?” she asked lightly, coming out of the stall to talk. She was wearing pants, boots, and a chambray shirt from the trunks of outgrown clothes Concepcion kept in the springhouse.
    “I’ve been in better moods,” Jeb admitted.
    She laughed. “It’s Chloe, I suppose.”
    “Chloe, and Rafe, and my bullheaded old polecat of a father—”
    “Poor Jeb,” Mandy said, but her eyes were dancing. She looked him over thoughtfully. “If you’re going to pay a call on Chloe, you’d better clean up first. You’re a sight.” She waved him in the direction of the house. “Go on,” she shooed. “I’ll unhitch the wagon and put the team away.”
    “There’ll be no end to the grief if Kade finds out I let you do a man’s work,” Jeb said. He wanted a bath and a shave, though, now that she’d brought the possibilities to mind. He felt like he was wearing half the territory on his hide.
    “I’ll handle Kade,” Mandy said, with well-founded confidence. Every cowhand on the ranch jumped when Kade whistled, but with Mandy, he was a different man.
    Jeb hesitated another moment, then shrugged, left the team to Mandy, and made for the house. After a session with the razor, one of