Suppose the damned watcher had seen her leave alone? Heart pounding, Brendan leaned over Harry’s neck and urged him on. He found himself praying Avery was so enamored of Helena he wouldn’t think to throw suspicion off him by seeing her come to harm. Brendan had hoped all along she’d be safer not suspecting her supposed friend, but jealousy still ate at him.

Jealousy he knew he had no right to feel.

He didn’t know how to act when he found them having their little tête-à-tête. He’d better be deciding right quick. She was his wife, after all, and he’d already let it be known he was home to stay. So how should he approach the situation in town, with everyone watching?

No doubt Helena would act like the fine lady she was, lest she be seen in a poor light. He didn’t want to lend fodder to the gossip, either, so he’d keep his own temper under wraps no matter how much he loathed that murdering bastard Avery.

It wasn’t till Brendan found her gig in front of the hotel that he decided what he’d do. He climbed down, tied Harry to the rear of the conveyance, pulled off his saddle and tossed it into the back. He rubbed Harry down a bit with his blanket before tossing it next to the saddle. All that was left was to climb up, settle back in the fine leather seat and wait.

* * *

Lucien Avery was a patient man. More than one fellow who’d crossed him had found that out the hard way. But his adversary this time was a lady of some fortune. Winning this kind of battle took care. And planning. It had been moving forward perfectly until Kane decided to take an interest in Shamrock.

Avery had waited nearly two years for Helena Kane to have her fill of her husband’s desertion and fall in line with Avery’s plans. By his calculation, she’d been mere weeks from being able to divorce the fool. It was a bit risky to murder a Texas Ranger, but with Kane having moved to Shamrock, it had begun to look like the only option.

Today alone, while acting the perfect gentleman with her, Avery had suffered through talk of the Varga women leaving town. Somehow he’d managed not to show how angry he was with their refusal to sell him Belleza.

The don had disinherited his son, so it was the women’s to dispose of. But neither would speak of selling, or cutting Dylan Varga out of the property. They preferred to take time and consider their options. Avery would have to set his men loose on the son’s place again. When the damned Varga women learned the Comanche had killed Dylan and his little wife, they’d sell both places rather than return where so much tragedy had befallen their family.

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