Chapter One

 “He’s a grown man, old enough to make his own decisions.” Ryan thrust his fingers through his hair. His father was driving him loco with this vendetta against the
“Your brother has been sniffing around her for years, but lately he’s been talking about courting her.” The veins on the old man’s neck bulged. It wasn’t good for a man with heart problems to get so enraged.
“Becky Tucker hasn’t broken any law that I know of. What in tarnation do you expect me to do, Pa?”
“Goddammit, Ryan, that gal’s no good. You’re the sheriff. Do something about it,” Vaughan Mulligan shouted.
South Dakota, 1870’sTuckergal. “It isn’t her fault that her crooked father swindled you. The mother was a decent Ryan gave an exasperated snort. “Who?” He knew who his father meant. Lucinda Carstairs was a spoilt brat who had taken a fancy to him on one of her intermittent trips home from some exclusive girls’ school in Boston. Hell, she was only nineteen. If he was thinking of getting hitched, which he wasn’t, it certainly wouldn’t be to a gal like her even if she was heir to a
“He needed a mother for Lucinda.” A sudden sly gleam lit up the old man’s eyes. “She’s back you know.”
enough woman or Wes Carstairs wouldn’t have got hitched to her.prosperous ranch, and several businesses in town. He didn’t plan on being a sheriff for the rest of his life. He had dreams of buying his own spread one day, but he wasn’t prepared to wed Lucinda to get it.
His father stomping up and down brought him back to the matter at hand. “I’ll speak to Jase, that’s the best I can do.”
“He won’t listen,” Vaughan snarled. “He’s letting that whore lead him around by what’s between his legs.”
Ryan gritted his teeth to stop an angry retort springing to his lips. Pa always turned crude and nasty after a few drinks, and he’d had more than a few drinks. He reeked of whiskey.
“Go home, Pa.”
He gave a weary sigh. It was hell being an older brother to Jase. Always having to clean up his messes. Lazy, over-indulged, and nowowner of the Mulligan ranch. The unfairness of it all. Bitterness ate into him; raw, ferocious, like a starving dog on a piece of meat.
I ought to leave Blackwood and never return. Even though he had been born here, he had spent so much time on the trail as a bounty hunter and gunslinger, the place meant little to him now. Montana or Wyoming appealed to him. He had only returned here to help his father, naturally expecting to eventually share the ranch with Jase. He would have given his brother a fair price for his share. Ranching held no appeal to Jase, too much like hard work, but while the old man was able to organize the cowhands to keep the place running, Jase didn’t have to worry over much, he just did the bare minimum.
“Are you going to do something?” The old man pushed his face up close and glared at him through blood shot eyes. Had it been anyone else but his father, he would have swung a punch and knocked him to the ground.
“Go home,” Ryan ground the words out. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He watched his father stomp out of the office, banging the door behind him. With a muttered curse, he picked up a bundle of ‘wanted’ posters and flicked through them.