Wildfire by Roxanne Rustand

the area couldn’t have had any run-ins with Claire over the years.
    The woman drummed her fingertips on the folder. “An extension?”
    Claire’s all-too familiar words from the past filtered into Tessa’s thoughts. Act like you already won hands down—and only a fool will stand in your way.
    Tessa lifted her chin. “That’s right.”
    “On a twelve-thousand dollar loan for…” Ellen flipped the folder open and withdrew a computer printout. “Cattle?”
    “Breeding stock. An infusion of a new genetic line we—”
    The woman waved a hand sharply in dismissal. “I understand you’ve lost cattle to theft recently.”
    Surprised, Tessa settled back in her chair. “We found thirty head, but ten are still missing. Why?”
    “Are any of these missing cattle from this line?”
    “Three.”
    Ellen fixed a narrowed gaze on Tessa’s face. “And what, exactly, have you done about it?”
    Tessa fought back a wave of irritation at the woman’s supercilious tone. “The loss wasn’t carelessness. Someone cut a remote fence line. I reported the loss to the sheriff immediately. Then I faxed detailed descriptions of each missing animal’s color, markings, ear notches and registered brand to sales barns in four states. None of them have been auctioned so far.”
    “So you simply lost them.”
    “They could still be on national forest land or blended into someone else’s herd. Or they could be in someone’s freezer.”
    “And you don’t have insurance on your herd?”
    “You and I both know how expensive it would be for a thousand cattle and a horse herd. It just isn’t feasible, except on our bulls and senior stallion.”
    The faintest of smiles touched the woman’s thin mouth. “Sound business principles would say otherwise, dear.”
    Dear? Tessa narrowed her eyes. This loan officer was probably in her early forties, and her condescension was the last straw. “I think you’d discover that few ranchers in this county agree with you. In an ideal world, maybe, but not in everyday practice. Now, about that loan?”
    The woman made a tsk-tsk sound as she closed the manila folder. “I’m afraid there’s really nothing I can do, because that contract was your legal agreement to pay on time. I did try—but our bank manager said no. He referred to another loan you had…a year ago?”
    Tessa blinked. “We were three weeks late. My mother was hospitalized, and until that time she still insisted on handling all of the business at the ranch. I wasn’t even aware of that due date until the reminder notice came.”
    “I’m sorry.” She stood up in obvious dismissal. “The current note is due the twenty-sixth of June. Is there anything else?”
    Tessa had expected as much, but the situation still rankled. If not for the drought, cattle prices over the past year, and the tractor she’d had to replace, there wouldn’t have been a problem. “You’ll get your money on time.”
    Her fists clenched at her sides, Tessa pasted a cool smile on her face, spun on her heel, and walked out into the lobby of the bank. She was halfway to the entrance when she heard someone call her name.
    “Well, if it isn’t Tessa McAllister.” Arlen Foreman sauntered toward her from his place in line at one of the teller windows. He was tall, elegant, and easily pushing sixty, with neatly trimmed white hair and mustache, and as usual, he was wearing his ever-present Indiana Jones fedora.
    She’d always suspected that he wore it for rakish effect—just another bit of showboating for the customers who used his upscale wilderness outfitting company. “Arlen.”
    “So,” he said, the sharp, assessing glint in his eyes at odds with his overly friendly smile. “I suppose you’re ready for a big season this year?”
    “I hope it’s a good one. High gas prices really hurt us last year.”
    “Really.” He chuckled. “I suppose you have a lot of those lower-end clients out at your place.”
    Tessa bristled at the insult. Yet he was