His Perfect Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 1) by Merry Farmer Read Free Book Online Page A

“And no calves with them?”
    “None.”
    “How many?” Franklin asked.
    “At least half a dozen in the last week,” Jarvis answered.
    Franklin arched an eyebrow. “Has anyone gone to check how many calves Bonneville has in his herd at the moment?”
    At the question, the air in the room went alive with an electric charge. Anxious prickles made their way down Corva’s back. “Are you suggesting Mr. Bonneville might have somehow taken the calves right out of their mothers?” The idea seemed ridiculous and abhorrent to her.
    Jarvis shrugged and grimaced. “Not exactly taking them out, but watching to see as soon as they’re born, then whisking them off and pretending they’re part of his herd.”
    “You see, there’s a lot of open range around here,” Franklin went on to explain. “Everyone brands their cattle so that we can tell them apart, but calves who are born out on the range aren’t branded. If someone were to snatch one and whisk it away, out of sight, they could claim that it was from their herd all along and brand it before anyone can protest.”
    “Isn’t that cheating?” Corva asked.
    It was the wrong thing to say. Franklin flushed and glanced away, almost as if he wished he was somewhere else. Jarvis squirmed as though someone had dropped a worm down the back of his shirt. Both men suddenly looked as though they would rather be on different continents, let alone in the same room.
    One blink, and Corva knew why. The story Franklin had told her about the fence-building competition, about how he had tried to cheat and ended up with crushed legs. She didn’t need to ask to know that Jarvis was involved in that, probably deeply involved.
    She bit her lip, remembering the promise she’d made to herself to be helpful to Franklin instead of causing him more problems. “What do you plan to do? How can you prove what Mr. Bonneville has done, or even that it’s him?”
    Slowly, both men shook themselves out of whatever attack of awkwardness they’d fallen prey to.
    “Bonneville has pulled stunts like this before,” Jarvis explained. “He wants to be at the top of the totem pole in these parts.”
    “A position my father will not let go of lightly,” Franklin added. “He won’t take rustling like this lightly either.”
    “Exactly.” Jarvis nodded. “The problem is, how do we approach Bonneville about the possible thefts without setting him off on another one of his tears?”
    Corva breathed an inner sigh of relief. The two men were back to discussing business.
    Franklin sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We’ve barely settled from the last dust-up.”
    “With Mr. Bonneville?” Corva asked.
    Jarvis grunted. “Rex Bonneville is a thorn in all of our sides. The trouble is, he’s a member of the Wyoming Stock Grower’s Association.”
    “Dad joined too, earlier this year,” Franklin put in.
    “But he doesn’t make the trips out to Cheyenne to socialize with the other ranch owners the way Bonneville does.”
    Franklin grunted. “That’s half the problem right there, if you ask me. Bonneville is more interested in cards and cigars and more with that lot than with overseeing his business.”
    Feeling one step behind, Corva asked, “What’s the Wyoming Stock Grower’s Association?”
    “It’s a group here in Wyoming that oversees standards and practices of Wyoming ranchers and the open range,” Jarvis explained. “It was formed a couple of years ago, but already, its members control just about everything in the state, making the elected government seem like a puppet show.”
    “Dad may control just about every aspect of Haskell as its founder and mayor,” Franklin added, “But Bonneville keeps threatening to call in his big guns to bring him down.”
    “It sounds like a delicate dance,” Corva said.
    “It’s something, all right,” Jarvis grumbled. He took a breath, shifted his weight, and said, “Well, I just wanted to find you to make sure you knew about