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  The rumbling sound of Randall’s hearty laughter reached her ears. “You’ll never believe what the missus said to me this morning,” he relayed to John, one of the hands. “She says…” The tweeting of a bird nearby drowned out the rest of Randall’s story, but Elsie heard him laugh with John over whatever it was that his wife had said.

  She felt an ache in her chest. Her activities over the last year had prevented her from engaging in the more pleasurable activities of life, such as courting and attending social events. Whenever she heard people talking about their families fondly, it would serve as a painful reminder of what she’d given up in order to get her revenge on the Xaviers. Of all the people in the world, she’d only ever loved her ma and pa, and now that they were gone, the feeling of being loved and loving in return was but a memory, and in its place was loneliness.

  Randall mounted his horse and cantered up to where Elsie was sitting on her horse observing them.

  “Everything going all right?” Elsie asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah, we’re just about done. When’s the next roundup?”

  Elsie considered it. Planning the times when they would sneak onto the Xaviers’ property was simultaneously thrilling and guilt-inducing for her. Randall used her silence as an opportunity to once again make a case for her to stop.

  “Maybe this should be our last one,” he suggested. “I saw Xavier at the blacksmith’s shop yesterday. He’s spitting mad about your success. As I told you before, success is the best revenge, and you’ve achieved that tenfold, plus you’ve hurt his ranch in the process.”

  “Good,” Elsie said, satisfaction washing over her.

  “Trouble is, I think he suspects something,” Randall continued. “He was asking me questions about you and how many cattle—”

  “It doesn’t matter what he suspects,” Elsie cut in. “He has no proof of anything, so let him think whatever he wants. I hope he drives himself mad trying to figure out what’s happening to his cattle.”

  Randall let out a sigh of frustration. “You know what you need, Elsie Fin? A darn good spanking. The rebranding has gone on long enough. Why not quit while we’re ahead and before we get caught?”

  Elsie glared at him. Randall was her closest ally, but he was also her employee. “You forget yourself,” she said tersely. “I’m not a child. In fact, I’m your boss.”

  He matched her glare. “That may be the case, but it won’t stop me from speaking my mind. You’re out-and-out selfish, you know that? You don’t think about what will happen to us if we’re caught. We’ll go to prison, and you might not care about that, but me and the hands… we’ve got families who will suffer.”

  His words felt like a stab to her heart. She clenched her jaw, making an effort not to allow tears to fall after his harsh statement. It was true; she wasn’t thinking about anyone but herself and how to continue feeding her revenge. Still, her hands benefited from the arrangement, and Randall was the only one who had expressed any kind of reservation to her.

  “Do the other hands feel the same way about it, or are you putting words in their mouths?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Like you, they’re young and reckless. They’re thinking about making money now, not about what could happen in the future. It’s your job to take care of them. Your pa wouldn’t have put them in this kind of danger, Elsie.”

  Randall must have noticed the hurt in her eyes, for his expression softened. “You know I’ll help you with whatever you decide. But think it over, all right? We should quit sooner rather than later. The noose is tightening as we speak.” He nudged the horse forward with his heels and rejoined the men in rebranding the last bull.

  A lump grew in Elsie’s throat as she sorted through the feelings Randall’s admonishment had stirred in her. A part of her felt outraged that he would speak to her in such a way, but a bigger part of her felt a longing for someone in her life strong enough to take responsibility away from her. Her vengeance was out of control. She knew she was doing wrong and there was no reason to continue other than to feed the monster of hatred in her heart, but she also knew she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

  Elsie rode back to the barn deep in thought. What she needed, she realized, was a good husband, a man who would be loyal to her like Randall was, but who also was strong enough like her pa to rein her in. Finding such a man in town seemed an impossibility. How could she locate a man who was strong and good and who wouldn’t turn her into the law?

  Upon arriving at her barn and unsaddling her horse, she ran the brush across his lean body absently. She cleaned out his hooves by habit, all the while thinking about how to go about finding a husband.

  “I’ve got it!” she exclaimed out loud to her horse. His ears perked up and he nickered at her, which made her smile. “I’ll get me a mail-order husband.”

  This was a perfect solution. It had worked for Susannah Harrington and Betsy Mason. When no man in Virginia City had lived up to their expectations, they’d expanded their search to the rest of the country by writing advertisements with very specific criteria for a husband. There was no reason why this couldn’t work out similarly well for Elsie.

  A stranger to town wouldn’t know the marshal or the Xaviers, and she could ensure he was loyal to her before telling him about the rebranding operations. Furthermore, she wouldn’t feel so alone. Even if she never grew to love her mail-order groom, at least she would have a life partner—someone who could share in the heavy burden of responsibility that had befallen her since her pa’s death.

  The next day, with excitement carrying her steps, she walked to the telegraph office to submit a mail-order groom advertisement in the New York paper.

  Woman, age 18, owner of profitable cattle ranch, seeks a loyal man, age 18 to 25, for marriage. Should be of sound mind and good character. Means unimportant. Send replies to Elsie Fin of the Infinity Ranch, Virginia City, Nevada.

  Chapter Four

  The marshal swore Wyatt in as a proper Virginia City lawman. Deputy Parker then tucked his new badge into his saddlebag and rode out to the Infinity Ranch. He didn’t want to be a cowboy anymore, but as far as undercover missions went, he reckoned this was one of the easier ones. He didn’t even have to pretend to be anything he wasn’t. In fact, he felt more like he was playing make-believe deputy than make-believe ranch hand.

  The one complication was his arm injury. He would need to hide that long enough to carry out his undercover task. The injury would be discovered eventually if he participated in any labor, but he didn’t believe it would take long for him to gain Miss Fin’s trust and become acquainted with the inner workings of the business.

  On the way to the Infinity Ranch, he rode past the Xaviers’ vast range. The land he saw was rich and fertile, not to mention large, and there must have been at least a thousand head of cattle spread out as far as the eye could see. He knew there wasn’t good reasoning for it, but he felt an instant strong dislike for the Xaviers. They were wealthy in a big way, just like his boss who’d ditched him without so much as batting an eye.

  He tethered his horse outside the Fins’ cabin, which looked to be in a general state of disrepair. Cracks streaked the clouded windows like jagged lightning. One of the porch steps was rotted clear through, so he had to step over it when he climbed to the door. He knocked and called out. “Hullo, the house! Anyone there?”

  While he waited for an answer, he rehearsed in his head what he would say in order to get himself the job. All he had to do was convince the lady that he would work hard in exchange for room and board. He wouldn’t ask for a salary. The only reason he could think of that she might say no to such an offer would be if she suspected he was there as a lawman. He doubted that would happen, so long as he kept his wits about him. He was a cowboy after all. He just had to be himself.

  When nobody came to the door, Wyatt wandered to the barn about fifty paces south. The barn was in better shape than the cabin and looked to be freshly painted. He knew he was right when he got closer and
smelled the paint. A bright orange color, it gave the modest ranch an appearance of warmth and prosperity that felt absent at the house.

  He strode in and looked around for someone to chat to. A cow was mooing on the far side of the barn, so he walked in that direction, thinking someone might be over there fetching a fresh bucket of milk.

  “Hold it right there, mister!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed, startling Wyatt and causing him to halt his steps. “Get your hands in the air!”

  As Wyatt did as instructed—an incredibly painful endeavor for his injured right arm—he pivoted slowly to look at where the voice was coming from. The light in the barn was not as bright as outside, but it was enough for him to make out a girl with brunette pigtails wearing boy’s britches and a button-up flannel shirt. There was also plenty of light for him to see the hollow depth of a Smith & Wesson barrel, aimed right between his eyes.

  Wyatt wasn’t a stranger to guns—he’d even had one pointed at him a time or two—but being held at gunpoint for no apparent reason got him feeling tetchy. Having a gun pointed at him by a little girl who might accidentally shoot him, irritated him further. His hands still in the air, he growled, “You’d better holster that weapon, young lady. I come meanin’ no harm, and I don’t take kindly to being on the wrong side of your daddy’s gun.”

  The girl bared her teeth in a snarl. “This is my gun, mister. You need to tell me what in the tarnation you’re doing here, right quick.”

  “And you need a darn good walloping for having such bad manners,” he shot back. “I’ll say it again. Holster that weapon. We can talk about why I’m here when I’m not in fear of my life.”

  Her eyes narrowed, studying him carefully, and then the expression on her face relaxed. She slowly uncocked her revolver and buried it in the holster attached to her hip. “My apologies. I thought you were one of the Xavier boys. The light isn’t all that good in here.”

  Wyatt put his hands down, the movement once again causing him pain, and glared at her. “You’re gonna end up killing someone if you’re not a little more discerning. Now, how about you tell me where the lady of the ranch is, and then you can tell me where your pa is. I’ll be having a word with him about his daughter, who doesn’t have a lick of sense, far as I can tell. I have a mind to spank some sense into you myself!”

  The girl’s lips curled into a grin.

  His eyes now adjusted to the dim light, Wyatt noticed that she had freckles across her button nose, giving her a mischievous, youthful appearance, but he also noticed the swell of her breasts underneath her shirt, indicating she was a bit older than he’d thought at first.

  “You’re looking at the lady of the ranch, mister, and if you want to talk with my pa, you’ll have to die and go to heaven first. I’d be happy to arrange that if you try and lay a finger on me.”

  Wyatt scowled at her. “You look very young to be in charge here.”

  “I’m eighteen years old. My name is Elsie Fin, and this is my ranch, the whole kit and caboodle.” An amused glint lit her eyes.

  Wyatt could tell she was enjoying setting him straight. He groaned and rolled his eyes. The marshal should have thought to tell him Miss Fin looked as young as she did, and he shouldn’t have assumed Elsie Fin to be older. He hoped he hadn’t gone and already ruined his chance at getting a job.

  Irritated with her, the marshal, and himself, he asked in an annoyed voice, “You pull a gun on every cowboy who comes here looking for a job, Miss Fin?”

  “Only the handsome ones,” she quipped, and giggled like a schoolgirl would. Her cheeks reddened, and she looked down at the ground, appearing embarrassed by what she’d just confessed.

  Wyatt felt his eyebrows head north with surprise. He knew he wasn’t a bad-looking man, but a woman had never so openly and awkwardly called him handsome before. He studied her with interest. He found it hard to believe she was the mastermind behind a cattle-rustling operation, which was a serious crime punishable by a long prison term. The girl standing in front of him had just given him a glimpse into her innocence. Her attempt to flirt with him had obviously caused her much embarrassment, so he doubted she’d ever even shared a bed with a man. Was he truly to believe she was directing men to steal and rebrand cattle?

  There was only one way to find out. When she finally lifted her eyes to look at him, he cleared his throat and returned to the matter at hand. “Like I was saying, I’m here lookin’ for work. I’m a little down on my luck, and I ask for nothing but room and board in exchange for my labor.”

  She sobered, suddenly appearing more like a woman and less like a schoolgirl. Frowning thoughtfully, she said, “I have enough hands, Mister…”

  “Parker,” he supplied, and took off his hat. “Mr. Wyatt Parker, at your service. I hope you won’t mind me being so bold as to say it, but I think you could use another hand, if not on the range, then right here fixing up your cabin. Seems it could use a few new boards and a nail or two, and I’m good with a hammer and saw.”

  “Yeah, the house could use some work,” she agreed. She looked down at the ground again, appearing to be deep in thought, and said after a short spell, “There’s an extra bunk in the bunkhouse, and I can provide three square meals a day, but I can’t afford to pay you anything.”

  He felt a small thrill of victory. “That’s just fine, Miss Fin. Like I said, I’m only looking for room and board at the moment.”

  She gave him a curt, businesslike nod that differed sharply from her scrappy appearance. “Very well. Just so we’re clear, I won’t need to you to work with the cattle, only to fix up the house.”

  Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck and took in the meaning of her words. If she was rustling cattle, it made sense for her not to want him around the operation until she trusted him. That meant she was smart and this mission might take longer than he’d originally expected. No matter, at least he’d be eating and have a roof over his head for some time.

  “I’ll do whatever is needed, Miss Fin.”

  She stepped forward and held out her hand. “You can call me Elsie. Mind if I call you Wyatt?”

  He enclosed her diminutive, warm hand in his. She felt fragile. The smallness of her hand in his, combined with her mischievous appearance, made her seem very much like a little girl to him, one who deserved a good spanking, not life in prison.

  “Yes, please do call me Wyatt, Elsie,” he said, giving her small hand a squeeze.

  Her big, brown eyes twinkled, and her cheeks still appeared vaguely pink. Wyatt wasn’t given to vanity, but he knew a smitten woman when he saw one. She was attracted to him, and she was doing a damn poor job of hiding it. Considering that his mission was to determine whether she was breaking the law, he was less than happy about being on the receiving end of her feminine attention. Entertaining it even for a moment felt like a wretched thing to do, so he made efforts to quell the fire before it blew to life.

  Still holding her hand, he forced a stern look on his face. “One thing you should know, Elsie.”

  Her lips were parted slightly, and her breathing was coming out in short pants, her breasts rising and falling quickly. “Yes, Wyatt?” she said, and batted her eyelashes at him.

  He groaned inwardly. This was one girl who needed to get hitched and rolled around in the hay in a jiffy, or she might very well burst. “You’re going to be my boss, and that’s just fine. I’ll do as you wish and work for my keep. But if you ever pull a gun on me again, I’ll make good on my threat to turn you over my knee.”

  Wyatt thought perhaps this promise might eliminate any budding attraction she was feeling, but it seemed to do just the opposite. Her breath hitched before she grinned.

  “You want to spank me?”

  “I don’t want to,” he said in an exasperated voice, releasing her hand. “But I will. Drawing a gun on a man isn’t somethin’ to do on a lark. It should be a last resort kind of a thing.”

  The little minx continued to grin at him. “I don’t think you will punish me. You wouldn’t da
re, now that you know who I am.”

  This conversation was not playing out at all how he’d intended, and he felt flummoxed. The way she was talking, it was almost as if she wanted him to punish her. “Do you really want to test that, Elsie?”

  “The thing is, I like to know that the men working for me are men of their word,” she said playfully. “And you just made an interesting promise.” Her statement became nothing less than a dare when she reached down for her weapon.

  Quick as a fox, Wyatt’s good hand shot out and took firm hold of her wrist. “Oh, no you don’t,” he growled. He removed her revolver from its holster and stuffed it into the back of his trousers. He stared at her quizzically, not quite believing what had just happened. Her eyes were dancing as she peered back at him. It was clear what she expected him to do and, as ridiculous as it seemed to carry it out, he had made her a promise.

  He strode a couple paces away and sat on a bench, where he tossed his Stetson aside and proceeded to roll up his left shirtsleeve. “Seems to me you’re in need of some discipline, so you can come lay yourself over my lap.”

  Elsie’s face reddened, but it wasn’t from anger. She looked embarrassed, and the naughty glint was still in her eye. She nibbled on her bottom lip and stared at his bent knee, blinking rapidly.

  This had to be the strangest situation Wyatt had ever found himself in. He was about to punish a woman to prove he was a man of his word in order to keep the job she’d given him. It was a preposterous game she was orchestrating, but he was willing to play it, especially since he thought she deserved a good smack or two.

  “What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Come here.”

  She inhaled sharply at his firmly spoken words, and her face reddened even more. Without looking him in the eye, she walked to him. When she was within his reach, he took hold of her arm, maneuvered her to his left side, and bent her over his knees.