Wyoming Tough by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

policy for people who do. They’re trying to force out all the independent ranchers and farmers, it seems to me.”
    Mallory pulled up a chair and sat down. “Exactly,” he said. “Mavie, can I have coffee, please?”
    â€œSure thing, boss.” She jumped up to make more.
    â€œAnother thing is this biofuel,” Mallory said. “Sure, it’s good tech. It will make the environment better. We’re already using wind and sun for power, even methane from animal waste. But we’re growing so much corn for fuel that we’re risking precious food stores. We’ve gone to natural, native grasses to feed our cattle because corn prices are killing our budget.”
    â€œGrass fed is better,” Morie replied. “Especially for consumers who want lean cuts of beef.”
    He glowered at her. “We don’t run beef cattle.”
    â€œYou run herd bulls,” she pointed out. “Same end result. You want a bull who breeds leaner beef calves.”
    Mallory shifted uncomfortably. “We don’t raise veal.”
    â€œNeither do—” She stopped abruptly. She was about to say “we,” because her father wouldn’t raise it, either. “Neither do a lot of ranchers. You must have a good model for your breeding program.”
    â€œWe do. I studied animal husbandry in school,” he said. “I learned how to tweak the genetics of cattle to breed for certain traits.”
    â€œLike lower birth weight in calves and leaner conformation.”
    â€œYes. And enlarged…” He stopped in midsentence and seemed uncomfortable. “Well, for larger, uh, seed storage in herd bulls.”
    She had to bite her tongue to keep from bursting out laughing. It was a common reference among cattlemen, but he was uncomfortable using the term with her. He was very old-world. She didn’t laugh. He was protecting her, in a sense. She shouldn’t like it. But she did.
    He was studying her with open curiosity. “You know a lot about the cattle business.”
    â€œI pick up a lot, working ranches,” she said. “I always listened when the boss talked about improving his herd.”
    â€œWas he a good boss?”
    â€œOh, yes,” she said. Her dad had a very low turnover in his employees. He was fair to them, made sure they had insurance and every other benefit he could give them.
    â€œWhy did you leave, then?” he asked.
    She shifted. Had to walk a careful line on this one, she thought. “I had a little trouble with an admirer,” she said finally. It was true. The man hadn’t been a ranch hand, but she insinuated that he was.
    Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “That won’t ever happen here. You have problems with any of the cowboys, you just tell me. I’ll handle it.”
    She beamed. “Thanks.”
    â€œNo problem. Thanks, Mavie,” he added whenthe housekeeper put a cup of black coffee with just a little cream at his hand. “You make the best coffee in Wyoming.”
    â€œYou’re only saying that because you want an apple pie for supper.”
    His eyebrows shot up. “Hell, am I that obvious?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” she declared.
    He shrugged. “I love apple pie.”
    â€œI noticed. I suppose I can peel apples and listen while you two talk cattle,” she said, and got up to retrieve fresh apples from the counter along with a big bowl and a paring knife.
    â€œUh, about men,” Morie said, looking for an opening.
    He scowled. “You are having problems here!”
    â€œNo!” She swallowed. “No, I’m not. There’s this nice man in town who wants to go out with me. His father runs the local tractor store—”
    â€œNo!”
    She gaped at him.
    â€œClark Edmondson has a bad reputation locally,” he continued curtly. “He took out one of Jack Corrie’s daughters and deserted her at a country bar when she wouldn’t