Spanking Her Highness by Patricia Green Read Free Book Online Page B

buying supplies and Daddy had to go to Austin this afternoon."
    "Then I'll sit with you until someone comes home."
    She bit her lip uncertainly.
    "I insist."
    Nodding, she gathered her purse up close to her chest and made her way toward the door.
    * * *
    Queenie fumed as she sat in her car, waiting for Will to look through the ranch house and give her the all-clear. It was stupid. The car that had rammed her must have been sent by Harry. It was astonishing to imagine that he'd go so far, but he was the one issuing threats, no one else.
    Of course, Will didn't know that. She hadn't told him. In fact, she hadn't told him much of anything about the situation.
    A tiny little piece of her, somewhere near her heart, was happy that Will was as concerned as he was. And, although his methods were painful and high-handed, he had been effective in calming her down. Her butt was still sore, in fact.
    He approached her car window and she let it down.
    "It's safe. No one in there. Do you always leave your doors unlocked?"
    "Why would we lock them? No one's gonna come all the way out here to steal the silver."
    He looked skeptical and she laughed.
    "You sure are a city fella." The car door creaked slightly as she opened it and got out without waiting for his help.
    He frowned a little, but waved her toward the house. They went inside through the back door, into the home's big kitchen. "You don't have to stay. I'm okay."
    Will shook his head. "I'm staying until someone gets home."
    She sighed. He was so stubborn. It was a little endearing, but she squashed that idea before it could lead somewhere. "Just so you know, I don't like you."
    "Right. Got it."
    "Do you want a soda?"
    He nodded and sat down at the family table. His eyes traveled over the kitchen she took for granted, and a shadow of what might have been envy crossed his features. Looking around, Queenie wondered what her home had that his didn't. There was a family-sized wooden table in a bay window looking out on the vegetable garden in the back yard, and the cool room was decorated with colorful Mexican tiles and maple floors. It was a comfortable space, full of family warmth and togetherness. Queenie had been in Will's ranch house when the Caswells had owned it. It was as big as her family's home, and comfortable, too. But, Will was there alone. Maybe he was lonely. She wondered why he wasn't married with kids. Bachelors—especially those that weren't inclined to be hermits—didn't usually make their lives on big ranches all alone.
    Queenie got them a couple of sodas and put them on the table as she pulled out her phone to call the sheriff. It took about three minutes to find out that he and his deputy were out on a call but would come by when they were done.
    Queenie sat with Will, quietly sipping drinks for a little while.
    "So tell me-" they both began at once. They exchanged a fleeting smile.
    "Ladies first."
    Queenie didn't often think of herself as a "lady" but she didn't mind going first. "I was just gonna ask you why you came to Texas."
    "Ah. Childhood dream."
    "You wanted to be a cowboy?"
    He laughed. It was a dandy laugh, a strong and confident laugh. "You might say that. I loved the old westerns on TV, and it never went away. So, as soon as I thought I could, I bought the Caswell place and got busy trying to learn ranching."
    "What did you do in Hollywood?"
    "Screenwriter."
    "Oh." She knew next to nothing about movie or TV production. Ranching she knew, though. "Do you like bein' on the ranch?"
    "I love it! It's nearly everything I hoped it would be."
    "Nearly?"
    His eyebrows drew down. "Someone is killing my livestock and the sheriff doesn't seem to care."
    That was unpleasant news. The Journeys had plenty of animals. If someone was harming people's critters, the sheriff should have been right on it. Certainly, he would have been on it if it had come from any of the ranchers she knew. She felt guilty thinking of Will as an unwelcome city slicker. He had a right to be