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she said firmly. “No other troubles. So many cattle have been run off that wintering over the rest—after we fulfill the army contract, of course—won’t be a problem.”
    “How many go to the army?”
    “Three hundred is the minimum. We’re their only local source of livestock.”
    “How many head of breeding stock do you have?” Hunter asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Guess.”
    “Fewer than two hundred.”
    Hunter looked at Elyssa, wondering if she knew just how close to the edge the Ladder S was skating.
    “If you have to sell cows instead of steers to meet the army contract,” Hunter said, “you’ll be between arock and a hard place when it comes to increasing your herd. Or can you afford to buy more breeding stock?”
    “If I don’t meet the contract, I’ll have barely enough money to buy supplies for Penny and myself for the winter,” Elyssa admitted.
    Hunter was frowning as he went to work on another of Bugle Boy’s hooves. Lack of breeding stock would doom the Ladder S as surely, if more slowly, than Culpepper raids.
    Not my problem , Hunter told himself curtly. I came here for Culpeppers, not to manage some sassy little flirt’s life. She’ll find some nice, gullible fool of a boy to do that for her .
    Hunter released the hoof and smacked Bugle Boy on the haunch, signaling the end of the grooming. The horse looked up momentarily from eating, snorted, and buried his muzzle deep in the grain again. Hunter checked the bucket hanging over the side of the stall, saw that the water was fresh, and turned to Elyssa.
    “So,” Hunter said. “It’s just Culpeppers troubling you.”
    “Just?” Elyssa made a disgusted sound. “If you say that, you don’t know Culpeppers. Those ruffians are the worst of a bad lot of renegades set on the loose by the end of the war.”
    “So I’ve heard.”
    Without looking at Elyssa, Hunter unlatched the stall door and motioned her through.
    Although the opening was big enough for three men to stand side by side, Elyssa paused before walking past Hunter. He seemed to fill the doorway. She would have to go very close to him to get by.
    The thought made her pulse kick.
    Did he plan it that way ? she asked herself.
    Hunter waited with an air of thinning patience.
    Don’t be silly , Elyssa told herself. Hunter has madeit quite clear that he finds me even less attractive than the English lords did. They, at least, were angling for a mistress .
    All Hunter is angling for is a smack on his unshaven cheek .
    Head high, gripping the silk shawl with one hand and her flimsy silk skirts with the other, Elyssa swept past Hunter.
    There was a distinct ripping sound as her skirt caught on a nail.

3
    E lyssa was jerked to a stop. Instinctively she threw out her hands for balance. The silk shawl slithered off one shoulder as she windmilled her arms, teetering on the edge of falling.
    A hand clad in black leather closed around the colorful shawl, saving it from a descent to the fragrant stall floor. Simultaneously Hunter’s right arm closed around Elyssa’s body just above her waist.
    She made a startled sound as she was lifted off her feet without warning. Her legs started flailing.
    “Hold still before you rip your skirts right off,” Hunter said curtly. “Or was that what you had in mind?”
    Elyssa made another ragged sound.
    The feel of Hunter’s naked right hand just beneath her left breast made Elyssa feel light-headed. The warmth of his hand seeped through the thin layers of silk dress and chemise. Her heart kicked frantically. She dragged at breath but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.
    “Hang on,” Hunter said, backing up a step.
    Abruptly his grip shifted.
    Elyssa forgot about trying to breathe and clung to Hunter. The weight of her breasts was supported on his hard forearm while he bent, still holding her, and eased silk free from the nail.
    The heat of Hunter was like a brand on Elyssa’s soft flesh.
    “Let go,” a deep voice said right next to her