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Lacey could hear the ominous sound of Slade's boots hitting the dirt as he dismounted. The canvas draping was yanked open with force. The silence that followed was punctuated only by the occasional nicker of a horse.

"Show yourself, Duchess," Slade said very matter-of-factly.

Lacey considered ignoring him but was actually relieved to have an opportunity to leave her cramped hiding spot. Tunneling through the supplies, she crawled on her hands and knees to the rear of the wagon. Sitting back, she swung her legs over the edge. She remembered one important thing as she jumped to the ground. Both her legs were completely numb. As she landed, on what she was pretty sure were her feet, she collapsed like a soufflé and landed right in Slade's arms.

"Oops." She giggled nervously.

"You mean, oops, I fell out of the wagon, or oops, I accidentally came along on the round-up?" She looked up into his ice-blue eyes and felt even giddier than before.

"Well, yes then--very good--I mean--yes well. How the devil did I get here?"

"I don't suppose you were sleepwalking, Duchess?"

"I like that--I mean, yes, indeed. I must have traveled out to the wagon in my sleep."

"Uh huh. Well, let's see if we can't get you on a horse and back home before you wake up."

Lacey could hear the rest of the men trot up beside them.

"Well, look who's here." Dix laughed.

She turned around and gave a polite little wave to the men. "Hello, fellows. Good to see everyone." She noticed several particularly grungy looking hired hands she'd never seen before.

She shyly turned back to the intense blue gaze that she knew was waiting for her. Realizing she was gripping his vest so tightly that her knuckles were white, she released her grasp and tried to take a step back. Unfortunately, there was one small impediment. Slade still had a vise-like grip on her arms. She thought she spied a slight twinkle in his eye. Maybe, she reasoned, he wasn't completely sorry to see her. She quickly dismissed the notion as ridiculous. The result of a mind made dizzy by vinegar fumes.

"I really wish you'd consider letting me stay on. I promise not to be a nuisance." This statement elicited a snicker from the onlookers.

"I'm sending you home with Tait," Slade said.

"What! Why me? I don't want to head back."

Lacey stepped in closer to Slade so she could bring her voice to a mere whisper. She could see the stubble on his strong jaw and fought the urge to touch it.

"Please, Slade. I don't want Tait to resent me. If you let me stay, I'll care for the horses and help Blue with meals. And you needn't worry about Dora. I left a note in the coffee sack. She's surely discovered it by now." She gave him the smile that had persuaded her father, on more than one occasion, to let her go on a notorious outing. For good measure, she fluttered her lashes.

With the rough pad of his forefinger, he wiped what she presumed was a streak of flour from the tip of her nose. "I s'pose it isn't fair to make Tait go back. And I certainly can't let you go alone--so I guess we're stuck with you."

"I don't know if stuck is the appropriate word." Lacey dropped her gaze and kicked at a small rock on the ground. "Perhaps, you might have thought of a kinder way to put it."

Slade cleared his throat so loudly, she looked up with a start. One of his dark brows was raised in admonishment.

"Well, I guess you are indeed stuck with me," she agreed.

"This ought to be real interestin'. Yep, mighty interestin'," Dix said as he wheeled his horse around and urged it to a trot. Thankfully, the sniggering cowhands followed him down the rocky path, leaving them without an audience.

Lacey eyed the two riderless horses that were tied behind the wagon. "You know, I think I'll just hop on one of these horses and--"

"Oh no you don't." Slade caught her by the wrist and pointed toward the wagon. "Back on the wagon with Blue. While I'll admit that you're a pretty darn good rider, you are not ready for this rough terrain."

Judging by his tone, she didn't think this was the appropriate time to remind him that he'd had no qualms about sending her home on a horse.

"Fine." She managed a weak smile. Deep down she was thoroughly disappointed. Dejectedly, she clambered aboard the wagon to sit on the bench beside Blue.

"And Duchess?"

She peered down at him. The ice had returned to his eyes.

"If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will personally tan your hide."

She'd never heard that expression before, but she had a pretty fair idea what it meant. "You intend to put me over your knee, Mr. Dalton?" she asked coyly.

"Damn right," he said before heading to his horse.

"Not an entirely unpleasant notion," she said under her breath. She was shocked to find him stop in his tracks and then swing around to face her. Did the man have preternatural hearing?

His narrowed eyes had a decidedly carnal glitter to them. A facial expression she'd been on the receiving end of, often enough, on her nighttime forays into London. Her friend, Jasper Cantwell, had never failed to point out a lascivious look cast in her direction. Though, at the time, Jasper had professed no interest in pleasures of the flesh, he had described in great detail, a man's erotic yearnings. Her knowledge of men was completely untested. She knew an innocent like herself had no business muttering something so suggestive.

Blushing furiously, she lowered her gaze. Hoping to make less apparent the trembling in her hands, she pressed her sweating palms against her thighs. This was not a good development; imagining oneself draped provocatively over the lap of your soon to be brother-in-law and finding the prospect tantalizing.

The dirt crunched under his boot heels as he neared, and she found herself scrunching the fabric of her trousers.

"Careful woman, someday, someone will call your bluff." He reached up, twirled a strand of her hair around his finger and brushed the ends with his thumb. This inclination of his, to fondle her hair, always sent a shiver of desire through her body. "I'm thinking, I might just be the man to do it. Yeah, just the man to do it," Slade repeated with a hoarse laugh, as he strode away and took the reins of his mount from Tait.

"Who knows, maybe she'll keep him busy chatting, and we won't have to put up with any more of his singing." Tait, no longer worrying about having to return to the Lazy Heart, sounded quite jovial.

"You may have something there, Tait," Slade replied before kicking his horse forward.

# # #

After an hour or so of sitting up front with Blue, Lacey found she could hardly keep her eyes open. She crawled into the back of the wagon to sleep awhile.

When she woke, the sky was dimming. She peeled her cotton shirt away from her sweat-drenched back. The sounds of high-pitched whistles and the loud protests of cows echoed off the canyon walls.

Blue had deserted the wagon. Lacey parted the canvas. She could see Blue on horseback working alongside the others. Lacey climbed out and found a spot in the shade of a cottonwood tree bordering a stream. She cupped her hand in the cold water and splashed her face. She watched in awe as the men spun, pivoted, and raced their horses, kicking up a choking cloud of dust.

Slade skidded his horse from a full gallop to an instantaneous stop. The horse's bottom almost scraped the ground.

"Get a loud of those tracks!" Tait shouted, obviously impressed with his brother's riding talents. He pointed in the direction of the long line of hoof indentations trailing Slade's horse.

Lacey wished she'd hadn't fallen asleep and missed any of this spectacle. She had imagined they would set up camp first, before they started chasing down the cattle.

They spurred their horses into a full-out run. Holding their ropes high or using them to slap their horses' flanks. Dangerous looking longhorns were dashing in all directions. Somehow, the men managed to stay clear of the incredible horns and keep an upperhand in the hunt. The horse and rider worked as one, predicting the moves of the cattle. Knowing exactly which way the wild herd was headed. Slade's riding skills were nothing short of magical. No wonder his men were in such awe of him. He seemed to excel in all things.

She shielded her eyes from the dust, as she watched the men drive the angry cattle into a small gorge bordered on three sides by sheer granite walls. Once the animals were trapped, Tait and Thorpe moved to guard them.

By the time the Colorado sun was waning, they had packed about two hundred longhorns into the three-sided canyon.

Lacey was feeling completely useless. Slade had been casting glances at her in the midst of all the turmoil. She figured, he was just making sure that she stayed out of trouble.

Lacey kept an eye out for Blue, hoping that he'd at least give her a cooking chore.

Slade walked past with an armful of kindling and threw it in the shallow pit the men had been digging. "Do me a favor, darlin'. Collect some small rocks to gird up this firepit."

Lacey didn't even care if he had given her the job out of pity because she looked so bored. She was thrilled to have something to do. Before dropping his lit cheroot atop the wood, his gaze met Lacey's. The little gleam in his eye made her think, maybe, he wasn't so upset about her stowing away after all. For her part, she was thrilled to be out here with him.

When Blue returned, he had her punching out biscuits while he sliced thick slabs of bacon. She tossed biscuit after biscuit onto the smoking griddle. The men just kept coming for more. Dix had added more dry brush to the campfire, and the flames were leaping out at her as she cooked.

"I think I'll have another one of those," Slade said, unnerving her and causing her to tip the pan.

Without thinking, she made a grab for the handle. The pain was so intense, she couldn't even think logically enough to release the scorching metal. With a scream, she jumped and dragged the pan off the fire.

"Christ, Lacey!" Slade dropped his plate and ran for the nearby stream. After dousing his neckerchief in the water, he ran back and wrapped it quickly around her hand. She found it impossible to be stoic. Tears were streaming from her eyes.

Everyone, except the two men left guarding the cattle, had gathered around her. She would have died of embarrassment, if it hadn't been for the excruciating pain.

Slade gingerly removed the wet cloth and turned her hand, palm side up. It was covered in red blisters.

Slade dumped the coffee from the pot. "Fill it with more cold water, Blue. And hurry it up."

"What you need is some lard, Slade. I'll get it," Dix said.

"No, please. Don't make such a fuss. I'm fine." She was sobbing so hard, she was beginning to hiccup. She couldn't even look at Slade, who held the wrist of her injured hand so tenderly, she wanted to cry even more.

"I'm so sorry. I beg of you, go back to your supper. You've worked hard and...." Somehow, she found the strength to run to the stream on unsteady legs. Her hand was throbbing to the point, where she actually felt nauseous. The men probably hated her. She'd promised not to get in the way, and here she was causing trouble. And now, because of her clumsiness, she wouldn't even be able to help much.

She kneeled at the stream, submerging her swollen hand. The cool water relieved her pain somewhat. The men were probably hoping she would fall in, so they'd be rid of her.

"Thought you might be hungry, Duchess." She could not bring herself to look at him and merely shook her head no.

He set the plate, full of food, aside on a rock. "Mind if I take a look at it?" he asked, stooping down so near, she could feel his breath stir her hair.

"I feel like such a fool."

"That burn doesn't make you seem foolish. Now this ... is foolish." He stood and began to unbuckle his belt.

She could feel herself flush as she watched him turn around and expose a naked hip. There, on the tight, smooth skin, was a scar in the shape of a heart.

"Why, that looks like the brand on your cows."

"That's exactly what it is. When I was twelve, I was sure I could brand calves all by myself. I got up early one morning, thinking to surprise my pa. Had one of the calves hog tied and ready to brand, when it started to kick loose. I threw the hot iron down to get a better hold on the animal, and it knocked me right onto my backside. I'm sure, I don't have to tell you, what I landed on."

Lacey, temporarily forgetting her own misery, giggled.

"Yeah, never seen Grady laugh as hard as he did, watching Dora slathering my newly tattooed bottom with butter."

Lacey doubled over with laughter. She could hardly catch her breath.

"Could've been worse, I suppose. I could have landed on my forehead."

Lacey wiped tears from her eyes, this time from laughter. It took her a moment to realize he was staring at her. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're a brave woman, Lacey Jarrell."

She smiled.

"And so damn beautiful, it hurts."

Her heart skipped a beat. Slade Dalton found her beautiful. Even with her face blotchy from crying. She shyly dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry about this. I'll hardly be any use to Blue. And now, I can't even practice my riding." She pulled her hand out of the water, and they both winced at the sight of it. Her palm was covered with blisters. "I shouldn't have come."

"No, you shouldn't have come," he agreed. He nudged her chin up with his fingers and gazed into her eyes. Her heart took up an erratic beat. "But I'm glad you did."

When Lacey returned to camp, she was relieved to find the men clustered around the fire, deep in conversation. They didn't even notice her return. She found a seat atop a boulder, a distance from them.

"As I see it, getting these animals back to the ranch is going to be much harder than rounding 'em up and branding them. They are tough, wiry, old devils. Much faster than the lazy ranch cattle we're used to. Did you get a load of those lobo stripes down their backs? Only wild cattle have them stripes." Dix tossed a twig into the fire.

"I've helped gather up wild cattle before. Meaner and tougher than this bunch," Blue boasted. "Course, we had a little trick for gettin' them to the ranch."