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  HALF-MOON RANCH: HUNTER'S MOON

  "Bobbi Smith is a terrific storyteller whose wonderful characters, good dialogue and compelling plot will keep you up all night."

  FORE VER AUTUMN

  "Forever Autumn is a fast-paced, delightful story."

  LONE WARRIOR

  "Fast paced, swift moving and filled with strong, well-crafted characters."

  EDEN

  "The very talented Bobbi Smith has written another winner. Eden is filled with adventure, danger, sentimentality and romance."

  THE HALF-BREED (SECRET FIRES)

  "Witty, tender, strong characters and plenty of action, as well as superb storytelling, make this a keeper."

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: JENNY

  "Bobbi Smith has another winner. This third installment is warm and tender as only Ms. Smith can do.... Ms. Smith's fans will not be disappointed."

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: TESSA

  "Another wonderful read by consummate storyteller Bobbi Smith.... filled with adventure and romance, more than one couple winds up happily-ever-after in this gem."

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: ELISE

  "There's plenty of action, danger and heated romance as the pages fly by. This is exactly what fans expect from Bobbi Smith."

  WESTON'S LADY

  "Bobbi Smith has penned another winner."

  HALF-BREED'S LADY

  "A fast-paced, frying-pan-into-the-fire adventure that runs the gamut of emotions, from laughter to tears. A must-read for Ms. Smith's fans, and a definite keeper."

  OUTLAW'S LADY

  "Bobbi Smith is an author of many talents, one of them being able to weave more than one story.... Ms. Smith creates characters that one will remember for some time."

  THE LADY & THETEXAN

  "An action-packed read with roller-coaster adventures that keep you turning the pages. The Lady & the Texan is just plain enjoyable."

  RENEGADE'S LADY

  "A wonderfully delicious `Perils of Pauline' style romance. With dashes of humor, passion, adventure and romance, Ms. Smith creates another winner that only she could write!"

  A sense of power filled Casey as she watched Michael Donovan standing waist deep in the water. She had him right where she wanted him. His pa acted like he owned the whole country, and it felt good to have the upper hand for a change.

  "So, how's the water?" she asked.

  "The water's fine."

  "I was thinking as I rode up here that cooling off in the river probably would feel real good today, so there's no reason why you shouldn't just enjoy yourself a while longer. I'll be going now...."

  "Good."

  "Yeah, I've got to get on back...." Casey urged her mount across the low-running river.

  "Why are you heading for Donovan land? I told you there weren't any strays around here."

  Casey didn't answer. She just rode to the tree where his clothes were hanging, yanked them down and held them up for him to see. "I didn't find any strays, but I found these. I think I'll take them with me...."

  "You can't take my clothes!"

  "Oh yes, I can. You said I needed new ones when you were making fun of me in town, so I'll just take yours!"

  "You do, and you'll regret it!"

  BAYOU BRIDE

  HUNTER'S MOON (HALF-MOON RANCH)

  FOREVER AUTUMN

  LONE WARRIOR

  EDEN

  WANTON SPLENDOR

  SWEET SILKEN BONDAGE

  THE HALF-BREED (SECRET FIRES)

  WESTON'S LADY

  HALF-BREED'S LADY

  OUTLAW'S LADY

  FORBIDDEN FIRES

  RAPTURE'S RAGE

  THE LADY & THE TEXAN

  RENEGADE'S LADY

  THE LADY'S HAND

  LADY DECEPTION

  The Brides of Durango series by Bobbi Smith:

  ELISE

  TESSA

  JENNY

  BOBBI SMITH

  This book is dedicated to all my friends in the Heartland Writers Guild in Sikeston, Missouri. You're wonderful!

  And to Lynn Oris, the manager at Barnes & Noble in Crestwood, MO, and Connie Jeffries and Deborah Baldini at the University of' Missouri, St. Louis. You re wonderful, too!

  This title was previously published by Dorchester Publishing; this version has been reproduced from the Dorchester book archive files.

  The Bar T Ranch

  Outside of Hard Luck, Texas

  1874

  It was a hot late August afternoon. Young Casey Turner had been out working with some hands from her family's ranch, checking on strays since early morning. She'd ridden away from the men to look for stock along the river that marked the property line between the Bar T and the Donovan ranch, the Circle D.

  Casey stopped for a minute on the shady bank. She was hot and tired, and the water looked mighty inviting. The notion of taking a break was all too tempting, but she couldn't allow herself the luxury.

  Times were hard on the Bar T.

  Money was tight.

  She had work to do.

  There was no time to relax, no time for play.

  Urging her mount on, Casey followed the river's edge. When she heard splashing from around the bend just up ahead, she expected to find cattle. She quietly rode closer, not wanting to spook the strays, ready to drive them back onto Bar T land.

  Then she rounded the bend.

  Casey's eyes widened in shock and amazement at the scene before her, and she quickly reined in.

  There, standing in the waist-deep water with his back to her was none other than the Donovans' sixteen-yearold son Michael, and he was best she could telskinny-dipping.

  Michael hadn't heard her approach, and she was glad. She'd never seen a naked man before. As embarrassed as she was curious, she took her time looking him over. His shoulders were broad and strongly muscled, and his waist was lean. Casey was really glad he was staying put, though, for she'd seen all of Michael Donovan she wanted to see.

  The Donovans and the Turners had been feuding for years. Frank Donovan, Michael's father, had done everything he could to cause trouble for her and her father. He'd refused to let them join the trail drive to market, which cost them a lot of money, and he'd even accused them of rustling, which wasn't true. Casey knew she and her father had only managed to keep the Bar T in business because they had the best water in the area. She worked hard side by side with her father every day to try to make things better, but there were times when she wondered if they would ever start showing a good profit.

  Suddenly Casey realized this was the perfect time to take a little revenge on Michael. He was pretty much helpless.

  The thought of getting even with him made her smile.

  Just a few weeks before she'd been in town picking up supplies, and Michael had walked into the general store at the same time. When he'd seen her, he'd made fun of the way she was dressed. She always wore boys' clothes because it was easier to get her ranch work done that way. She had one dress for church, but that was all. There was no money for extras like pretty dresses.

  Casey hadn't wanted to admit it at the time, but Michael's comments had hurt her. Arrogant, rich Donovan that he was, he deserved what he was about to get as a payback for being so mean.

  She smiled. Michael was still unaware of her presence. She looked around to make sure he was alone. Her grin broadened when she saw his horse tied up nearby and his clothes hanging over a low tree limb. True, the clothes were on the Donovan side of the river, but that wasn't going to stop her today.

  A wild plan began to form in her mind as she stared at his clothing. He had made fun of her clothes in town; now she had the opportunity to take the perfect revenge. She knew exactly what she had to do.

  Casey drew her rifle, then urged her mount closer to the water's edge. She stayed just far
enough back to be out of Michael's reach in case he tried to come after her.

  "Hey, Donovan!" she called out, enjoying herself tremendously.

  Startled, Michael turned to find himself staring up at Casey Turner.

  "What are you doing here?" he demanded as he moved into deeper water to keep himself shielded from her view.

  "I'm checking for strays all I found was you." She was enjoying his discomfort.

  "Well, just keep on riding," Michael ordered. "There isn't any Bar T stock around here."

  "You sure?"

  "Yes, I'm sure," he ground out as he glared up at her, not appreciating her amusement over his situation. "Go get out of here."

  Michael wanted her gone, the sooner, the better. Everyone knew Casey was trouble. Though she was only twelve, she already had a reputation as a hellion. Her mother had died when she was five, and the lack of any female influence in her life showed. She was as wild and untamed as the land. She dressed like a boy, and acted like one most of the time, too. She kept her dark hair cut short, and the only time he'd ever seen her wear a dress was at church, and even then she'd had her boots on.

  "I don't have to do anything you tell me to do, Michael Donovan," she shouted back. "I'm on Bar T land. I can stay right here all day if I want to. 1 don't have to go anywhere." She sat there staring down at him, looking quite relaxed in the saddle.

  Michael's scowl deepened. He wasn't sure what she was up to, but he didn't trust her. She was Jack Turner's daughter. That alone gave him reason to worry. He was just about ready to challenge her, to walk right out of the water in front of her. He was almost certain that that would send her off at a dead run; he hesitated only because his mother had taught him to be a gentleman around ladies. Not that Casey was a lady, but...

  A sense of power filled Casey as she watched Michael. She had him right where she wanted him. His pa acted like he owned the whole county, and it felt good to have the upper hand for a change.

  "So, how's the water?"

  "The water's fine."

  "I was thinking as I rode up here that cooling off in the river probably would feel real good today, so there's no reason why you shouldn't just enjoy yourself a while longer. I'll be going now-"

  "Good. Good-bye." Michael wished she'd stop talking and start riding.

  "Yeah, I've got to get on back." Casey urged her mount across the low-running river.

  "Why are you heading for Donovan land? I told you there weren't any strays around here."

  Casey didn't answer. She just rode to the tree where his clothes were hanging, yanked them down and held them up for him to see. "I didn't find any strays, but I found these. I think I'll take them with me-"

  "You can't take my clothes!"

  "Oh, yes, I can. You said I needed new ones when you were making fun of me in town, so I'll just take yours!"

  "You do and you'll regret it!" he threatened.

  "I don't think so. What can you do about it?" Casey laughed out loud at him.

  "You can laugh now, but you'll get yours! I'll see to it!" Michael started to charge through the water toward her, intent on getting his clothes.

  It was then that she lifted her rifle for him to see. "Stay right there, Donovan."

  He stood still, glowering up at her in silence.

  "Enjoy your swim!"

  Casey was still laughing as she rode to where his horse was tied up. She stopped just long enough to free his mount, then slapped it on the rump to chase it off. She crossed back to the Turner side and galloped away. She did not look back.

  Michael climbed out of the water and up the riverbank just as Casey disappeared from sight. He swore loudly in humiliation and frustration. He wanted to chase her down. He wanted to teach her a lesson for doing this to him, but it wasn't going to happen least not right now.

  Silently he vowed that one day Casey Turner would pay for what she'd done.

  But first, he had to figure out how he was going to get home.

  He looked around for something to cover himself with as he tried to figure out what to do. He spotted his boots and was grateful for that much. What he was going to do next, he wasn't sure. He only hoped that his horse would return to him on its own. If not...

  After riding for about half a mile, Casey reined in and glanced over her shoulder toward the river. There was no sign of Michael chasing after her, and she was relieved. His threat of revenge had scared her a little, but she decided the risk had been worth it.

  She dropped Michael's clothes on the ground. If he came that far, he was welcome to them. All that mattered was that she'd gotten them away from him in the first place. She was quite proud of herself.

  Casey was smiling again as she rode off to join up with the ranch hands. She might not have rounded up any strays, but she'd certainly had an adventure. She almost regretted not keeping a piece of Michael's clothing, just to prove to everybody what she'd done.

  Five Years Later

  On the Circle D Ranch

  The gunman smiled to himself when Frank Donovan rode into view. He had been waiting, hidden among the brush and rocks on the hillside with his rifle in hand. The hired gun took careful aim at the lean, powerful, silver-haired rancher, and when he came within range, the killer got off his shot. He watched as Donovan was hit and fell from his horse. The boss had said to make it look like a robbery, so he mounted up and rode down to where the rancher lay unmoving on the ground. He took what money Donovan had on him, then rode away without a backward glance.

  "Mrs. Donovan!!" called out Tom Richards, the foreman on the Circle D, as he led the boss's horse up to the main house.

  Fifty-year-old Elizabeth Donovan was busy in the kitchen when she heard Tom's call. She knew it had to be important if Tom had come looking for her, so she hurried outside. Elizabeth was surprised to find the foreman waiting for her at the foot of the porch steps with her husband's horse. "What is it, Tom? Where's Frank?" She looked around for her husband.

  "His horse just came back in without him!"

  She went down to check the mount. It was obvious it had been running hard and fast. "You'd better get some men together and ride out to look for him. He said he was going to check stock in the south pasture when he left this morning."

  "We'll head out right away."

  Elizabeth wasn't too worried about her husband as she went back inside. Frank was an excellent horseman. It wasn't often his horse got away from him. She found herself smiling at the thought of Frank being forced to walk home. The hands would find him, but she knew he wasn't going to be a very happy man when he did get back to the ranch.

  A good two hours passed before Elizabeth heard the riders returning. She went outside, expecting to see Frank riding in along with them. Instead, she was shocked to see the men bringing him home on a makeshift travois.

  "Frank!" She ran frantically to her husband's side. He was unconscious, and his shirt was blood-soaked. She looked up at Tom in horrified disbelief. "What happened?"

  "He must have been ambushed. He was shot in the back and robbed," Tom quickly explained as he dismounted and went to her. "I already sent Harry to town for the and the sheriff."

  "Who did it? Did Frank say anything?" Elizabeth asked tearfully, kneeling down and taking her husband's hand. His grip was usually strong and firm, but now his hand was limp in hers.

  "No. He was unconscious when we found him."

  "Let's get him inside," she directed quickly, desperate to do all she could to save him.

  With great care, the men lifted Frank off the travois and carried him inside and upstairs. It wasn't easy, for he was a big man. They laid him carefully on his bed. Tom stayed on to help Elizabeth, while the other hands went back outside.

  Elizabeth stripped off Frank's shirt and removed the makeshift bandage Tom had put on the wound when they'd found him. She cleansed the wound as best she could, but there was little more she could do. The bullet was still in him.

  They waited anxiously for Dr. Murray to arrive.


  "Why would anyone do this?" she whispered to Tom.

  "I don't know, but whoever did do it was a cowardback-shooting him this way," Tom answered solemnly.

  Tom left Elizabeth with Frank then and went downstairs to wait. He had been the foreman on the Circle D for five years, and he admired and respected Frank. If he'd had any idea who'd ambushed his boss, he would have been riding after the culprit to seek revenge, but he had no clue. There had been no talk of trouble in the area or of any outlaw gangs around.

  Tom knew the Donovans had had some run-ins with neighboring rancher Jack Turner over the years. Old man Turner had no use for Frank, and Frank felt the same way about him, but their hatred for each other had never resulted in

  Elizabeth stayed by her husband's side, anxiously awaiting the doctor's arrival. Each minute seemed an eternity as he lay so deathly still before her, his breathing shallow and labored. She desperately offered prayers that the doctor would be able to save him.

  The moment Elizabeth heard the sound of a carriage pulling up, she hurried to the window to look out. When she saw it was the doctor, she rushed from the bedroom to meet him downstairs.

  "Thank God, you're here!" she exclaimed.

  "I came as soon as I got word from Harry." Dr. Murray quickly grabbed his bag and climbed down from the carriage. He could see how distraught the normally dignified, elegant Elizabeth was, and knew Frank's condition had to be as serious as the ranch hand had said. "Harry will be along soon. He was on his way to see Sheriff Montgomery when I left."

  Elizabeth led him inside to the bedroom.

  Her usually vibrant, handsome husband looked so pale when she reentered the room that for an instant Elizabeth feared he'd died in the moments she'd been gone from his side.

  "Is he-T' she asked, terrified.

  Dr. Murray went to examine Frank and quickly reassured her, "No. He's still alive."

  "Thank God."

  "Why don't you wait in the parlor? I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

  Elizabeth left the room and went downstairs to find Harry had returned and was talking quietly with Tom in the front hall.