their direction.
âWhoâs that with her?â
âSam Dakota.â Monroe snickered softly, disliking the protective stance the foreman took with the woman. He could see the lay of the land with those two. Sam wanted her for himself, but Monroe wasnât going to let that happen. Dakota was a jailbird and once old man Wheaton found out, heâd send the foreman packing. Right quick, too, if he knew Walt Wheaton.
âWill he make trouble?â
âUnlikely.â Dakota wouldnât know the meaning of the word âtroubleâ until he tangled with the Loyalists. The foreman was admittedly a problem, but Monroe didnât expect Sam to stay around much longer.
âI thought you said weâd have the Wheaton land soon,â Lance grumbled.
Monroe frowned. âTakes time.â
âYouâre sure the old man doesnât know?â
âIâm sure.â Monroeâs patience was growing thin. It wasnât the younger manâs place to question him, and he let it be known he didnât appreciate it by glaring at him fiercely.
âI could convince him to sell in a week if youâd let me,â Lance muttered.
âWeâll do this my way,â Monroe said from between clenched teeth. The necessity of maintaining a low profile was key to the groupâs survival. The government, especially the FBI, would go to great lengths to stop the militia movement. All you had to do was look at Ruby Ridge and Waco and youâd realize just how corrupt the feds had become. Well, that was all about to change.
âIâm not going to do anything stupid,â Lance assured him.
âGood.â Against his better judgment, Monroe found himself staring at Molly Cogan again. Her jeans stretched nicely across her butt. Not so tight as to invite a look and not so loose that they disguised the fact she was a woman. And just the way she walked proved she was a Wheaton, all right. Proud as the day was long, and if she was anything like her grandfather, stubborn, too.
âSheâs pretty, Iâll say that for her.â
âDonât get any ideas,â Monroe said, struggling to hold on to his temper. âWeâve already got more complications than we need.â
âAll right, all right, but let me visit one of the girls soon. Iâm a growing boy, if you catch my drift.â
The kid might think he was clever, but Monroe failed to be amused. A large part of the Loyalistsâ financial support came from a prostitution ring that covered the entire state. The money they brought in was the lifeblood of the organization, but there wouldnât be enough with young bucks like Lance and his friend Travis helping themselves to the goods. He was guilty of taking advantage himself, but then he considered Pearl and a couple of the others his fringe benefits. He figured he was a hell of a lot more entitled to them than Lance.
âStay out of town unless I tell you different,â Monroe instructed the other man.
Lance frowned.
âYou heard what I said, didnât you?â He knew Lance had been sneaking into town behind his back. That boy better realize he had ways of learning about whatever went on here.
âI said I would,â Lance mumbled.
âGood.â Monroe sent Lance off and waited long enough to be sure heâd taken the road out of Sweetgrass. Then he climbed into his car; it was as hot as a brick oven. He was hot in other ways, too, and blamed the Wheaton woman for that. It was time to pay Pearl a visitâsheâd probably missed him. He drove down several streets and stopped next to the community park. No need to announce where he was headed by leaving his car in front of her house.
He cut through the alley and walked across Pearlâs backyard, then let himself in by the door off the kitchen. He didnât bother to knock.
Still in her housecoat, Pearl stepped out of the hallway. She looked shocked to see him.
âWhoâs that with her?â
âSam Dakota.â Monroe snickered softly, disliking the protective stance the foreman took with the woman. He could see the lay of the land with those two. Sam wanted her for himself, but Monroe wasnât going to let that happen. Dakota was a jailbird and once old man Wheaton found out, heâd send the foreman packing. Right quick, too, if he knew Walt Wheaton.
âWill he make trouble?â
âUnlikely.â Dakota wouldnât know the meaning of the word âtroubleâ until he tangled with the Loyalists. The foreman was admittedly a problem, but Monroe didnât expect Sam to stay around much longer.
âI thought you said weâd have the Wheaton land soon,â Lance grumbled.
Monroe frowned. âTakes time.â
âYouâre sure the old man doesnât know?â
âIâm sure.â Monroeâs patience was growing thin. It wasnât the younger manâs place to question him, and he let it be known he didnât appreciate it by glaring at him fiercely.
âI could convince him to sell in a week if youâd let me,â Lance muttered.
âWeâll do this my way,â Monroe said from between clenched teeth. The necessity of maintaining a low profile was key to the groupâs survival. The government, especially the FBI, would go to great lengths to stop the militia movement. All you had to do was look at Ruby Ridge and Waco and youâd realize just how corrupt the feds had become. Well, that was all about to change.
âIâm not going to do anything stupid,â Lance assured him.
âGood.â Against his better judgment, Monroe found himself staring at Molly Cogan again. Her jeans stretched nicely across her butt. Not so tight as to invite a look and not so loose that they disguised the fact she was a woman. And just the way she walked proved she was a Wheaton, all right. Proud as the day was long, and if she was anything like her grandfather, stubborn, too.
âSheâs pretty, Iâll say that for her.â
âDonât get any ideas,â Monroe said, struggling to hold on to his temper. âWeâve already got more complications than we need.â
âAll right, all right, but let me visit one of the girls soon. Iâm a growing boy, if you catch my drift.â
The kid might think he was clever, but Monroe failed to be amused. A large part of the Loyalistsâ financial support came from a prostitution ring that covered the entire state. The money they brought in was the lifeblood of the organization, but there wouldnât be enough with young bucks like Lance and his friend Travis helping themselves to the goods. He was guilty of taking advantage himself, but then he considered Pearl and a couple of the others his fringe benefits. He figured he was a hell of a lot more entitled to them than Lance.
âStay out of town unless I tell you different,â Monroe instructed the other man.
Lance frowned.
âYou heard what I said, didnât you?â He knew Lance had been sneaking into town behind his back. That boy better realize he had ways of learning about whatever went on here.
âI said I would,â Lance mumbled.
âGood.â Monroe sent Lance off and waited long enough to be sure heâd taken the road out of Sweetgrass. Then he climbed into his car; it was as hot as a brick oven. He was hot in other ways, too, and blamed the Wheaton woman for that. It was time to pay Pearl a visitâsheâd probably missed him. He drove down several streets and stopped next to the community park. No need to announce where he was headed by leaving his car in front of her house.
He cut through the alley and walked across Pearlâs backyard, then let himself in by the door off the kitchen. He didnât bother to knock.
Still in her housecoat, Pearl stepped out of the hallway. She looked shocked to see him.
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