Charlene Sands

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Authors: Taming the Texan
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them off. Now are you gonna quiet down?”
    Her eyes flashed blue lightning. Then she nodded.
    He took his finger away and stared at her. All he could see was the outline of her face and the glow of anger in her eyes. But he could smell the scent of flowers, soft and light, wafting up and chasing away harsh barn odors.
    He braced his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her there until he was sure they were both safe.
    “I heard sounds from the water tower, too,” she whispered.
    “I saw you heading there. Whoever it was is most likely gone by now.”
    Her chest moved up and down and she trembled, but Clint only felt the press of her breasts on him. His groin reacted instantly. Tess Morgan Hayworth was a beautiful woman, and even though they were adversaries, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her.
    He supposed he should back away, but when had he ever intentionally backed away from a pretty woman?
    “Scared?” he asked.
    “Should I be?” she whispered back.
    Clint’s brows rose and he smiled. She clearly hadn’t gotten his true meaning. He looked at her mouth, set in an alluring pout, and considered his options. He should kiss her into oblivion and be done with it. Ease his powerful curiosity some. “I think so.”
    “I’m not afraid of anyone… anymore. ”
    He lowered his head, ready to prove her wrong. She should fear him. She should be wary of his intentions.
    Just as he brought his lips to hers, she shoved at his immovable chest. “No,” she said softly, without much resolve.
    Clint lifted a hand to her delicate throat, caressing the skin there with a finger and wishing he’d taken off his work gloves. “Are you sure about that, Tess?”
    She swallowed, her throat moving up and down, and he caught the hesitation in her eyes. “I’m sure…let me go.”
    He lifted his hands from her and backed up a step. Though she spoke decidedly about not fearing anyone, Clint didn’t believe her. She’d been hurt and she’d been frightened in her life. He admired her struggle for strength, but he hardly believed that she feared no one.
    Those scars didn’t heal easily or quickly.
    Clint knew that for fact. “Go back inside. I’ll check out the water tank.”
    “No,” she said, and he heard the stubborn tone in her voice. “I’m going with you. It’s my ranch, too, Clint. I need to know what’s going on.”
    He shrugged. “Fine by me.” He grabbed the lantern, turned it back on and took her hand, leading her briskly toward the windmill and the tank of water that supplied the house and ranch.
    Even before they arrived there, the damage was clearly apparent as they sidestepped watery puddles forming at their feet. Water had seeped out of the tank by three punctures made in the huge metal barrel. It had taken someone a good deal of effort to etch out a depression and poke the large holes.
    Clint left Tess standing just a few feet away and made a closer inspection, using the lantern to illuminate the area. “Someone knew what they were doing. They poked enough holes to empty the tank in just a few minutes. These metal tanks aren’t easy to repair. It’d take a few months to get a new one from back east. I’ll get the smithy on it first thing in the morning. He’ll patch it, but I don’t know if it’ll hold.”
    “Who would do this?”
    Clint turned to look at her. “My guess is that someone is sabotaging the ranch.”
    “But why?” Then a light flickered in her eyes. “You were the only one out here. And you came upon me so quietly that I never heard you. For all I know, you were the one poking those holes.”
    “And why would I do that?” Clint’s sharp reply only brought on more suspicion.
    She took a step toward him, unmindful of the water spreading out across the yard, muddying the ground and dirtying up her skirt edges and boots. “To wear me down. To make things hard around here. It’s no secret you’re out to ruin the ranch.”
    “I plan to sell off the land, not

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