Forbidden by Susan Johnson (best feel good books txt) 📗

"Perhaps he feels confident with Wainwright's support."

The white ribbons trailing down the back of Daisy's straw boater fluttered from left to right as her head swiveled from her father to her brother—both tall, powerful men of action. "I don't want anyone taking on anyone over Nott's rudeness." Her classic chin came up in rebellious defiance. "I don't have to be defended. In a way, your interference is as gender-prejudicial as Nott's allusions to 'women's role.' I don't need male protection."

His protection wasn't gender-based. Hazard protected any in his clan regardless of sex, but admitting that might give notice of his intentions, so he said instead, "I was speaking in general terms. You know Nott's expecting a federal appointment with support from Wainwright's money."

"While you and Wainwright are mortal enemies over grazing land." Daisy's voice was without inflection.

"Nothing so melodramatic. I just don't like him taking down our fences and killing our horses." Hazard's voice, like his daughter's, was mild.4

More mild, Trey thought, than it had been a month ago when he and his father had stood toe-to-toe with Wainwright and his men up near Cottonwood Creek, Hazard's rifle barrel pressed into Wainwright's paunchy stomach. "Take another step on my land."

Hazard had said then, his voice cold as the grave, his dark eyes ablaze with fury, "and you've solved my problem." Both Hazard and Trey could outshoot any man in the territory—a well-known fact—which allowed them the leverage they needed, along with Wainwright's quaking, ashen-faced fear, to see Wainwright's score of hired hands ride away. They'd taken Wainwright with them for a mile or so before releasing him, the Absarokee rules of warfare and taking coup precluding them from killing him in cold blood. "A damn impediment at times," Hazard had muttered afterward with a grin, "having been raised with honor."

"Wainwright seems to have reconsidered lately," Trey declared, soft-spoken as a choirboy, his pale eyes gazing down at Daisy, as innocent. "He hasn't touched any of our fences in a month."

"The injunction worked, then," said Daisy, an advocate of legal remedies for settling disputes. "At least as a first step."

"It looks as though it may have," Hazard politely replied.

Along with a lethal threat to his life, Trey refrained from adding.

"Hanna Mining is going to lose too," Daisy said, her thoroughness in presenting proof of each incursion into Braddock-Black mining territory impossible to defend against. "The judgment against them should be considerable. I'm guessing well get our full five million." Daisy was in good spirits regardless of Judge Nott's resentment of her presence in his courtroom. She'd met with enmity before. It only served to toughen her up and improve her edge. Preparation of a case and competence in court were the only two qualities needed to win. Well… advocacy too, and she believed in their litigation. The jury was well-selected and fair, their claims were legitimate, and Hanna Mining had been bluffing from day one. Tomorrow, she'd begin her summation. "I don't expect the jury to deliberate more than a few hours. Where do you want the check mailed?" Her cheerful smile was as confident as her voice.

When Daisy Black walked into her office overlooking the Montana Club facade a few minutes later, she came to a sudden stop just inside the threshold, mild surprise evident in the partial lift of her brows. Lounging on her black leather couch was Martin Soderberg, his long legs sprawled out before him, one arm loosely disposed on the tufted curve of the sofa back, his sandy hair tousled as though he'd ridden through a windstorm, his range-clothes in contrast, newly pressed.

"What do you want?" she asked of the man she'd once considered marrying, before he'd precipitously married someone else two weeks ago.

"I want to be friends."

She paused for a moment, considering the complexities. "Fine," she said, civil and collected. '"We're friends."

"You shafted Ryan nicely today in court."

"Thank you. I didn't see you there."

"I came in late, just prior," he said with a boyish grin she'd always considered his best feature, "to your pointed remarks on marriage in Montana."

"Give my regards to Sally, by the way," Daisy said. "She must be pleased."

"I will and yes, she is," he replied with honesty. They both knew Sally Newcomb was plain enough she would have married anyone. Instead her father had captured Helena's handsome young sheriff for her for the price of the Treasurer's office.

"I'm assuming this isn't purely a social call," Daisy said, removing her straw hat, advancing into the large sunny room. Martin must be looking for political support, mending fences prior to the fall campaign, she thought, placing her ribbon-bedecked hat on a polished tabletop. While Sally's father could promise him the Treasurer's office, nothing was entirely guaranteed in the rough-and-tumble world of Montana politics.

Moving for the first time since she'd entered the office, Martin slid upward off the base of his spine, straightened his long lean frame into a sitting position, and looked down at his worn boots for a moment in what may or may not have been awkward ingenuousness. Martin was a political animal, however, which fact, Daisy thought, generally precluded ingenuousness. Raising his gaze to Daisy's, he quietly said, "No, not purely social. You're looking as beautiful as ever, Daisy," he added with straightforward simplicity. "Even in those clothes." His smile was lazy and warm.

Daisy's clothes—tailored black silk suit and white high-necked blouse—were devoid of ornament or color save for the brilliant sparkle of an elaborate topaz brooch pinned at her throat. "I thought about wearing something more suitable for my 'gentler sex,'" she answered with a smile. "Red satin, perhaps, like the young girl Nott patronizes at Ruby's. But I didn't know how that would play to the jury."

"Extremely well, I'd say." Martin's low voice held suggestive memory beneath the light teasing.

She didn't want to be reminded of their common memories now that he was married; she preferred finding out what he wanted without lengthy preamble or any allusions to intimacies they'd shared in the