The Cowboy

times."
    "Unfortunately I can't forget it." Moorcroft leaned forward intently. "I can't forget it because Cassidy hasn't forgotten it. He's after me."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "This isn't just a business rivalry between that damned cowboy and me any longer. Because of you it's turned into some kind of personal vendetta for him. A hundred years ago he would have challenged me to a showdown at high noon or some such nonsense. But we live in a civilized age now, don't we? Cassidy's going to be a bit more subtle about his vengeance."
    Margaret stared at him. "What in the world are you talking about, Jack?"
    Moorcroft sat hunched over his latte, his hazel eyes intent. "He's up to something, Margaret. My sources tell me he's got a deal going, a deal that could directly affect Moorcroft Industries. I need to find out what's going on before it's too late. I need inside information."
    "Sound like you've already got information."
    "Some. I don't know how much I can trust it."
    "That's your problem, Jack."
    "Look, Cassidy always plays his cards close to his chest but after what happened with you last year, he's more cautious than ever. Whatever he's working on is being kept under very tight security. I have to find out what he's up to, Margaret, before it's too late."
    "Why are you coming to me about this? I don't work for you any longer, remember? I don't work for anyone except myself now. And I like it that way, Jack. I like it very much."
    Moorcroft smiled. "Yes, I can see that. You look good, Margaret. Very good. I know you're out of the scene and you want to keep it that way, but I'm desperate and I need help. That business between me and Cassidy last year?"
    "What about it?"
    "That's all it was until you got involved. Business as usual. Cassidy and I have tangled before. Bound to happen. We're natural competitors. But after you came into the picture all that changed. Cassidy's out for blood now. Lately I've had the feeling I'm being hunted and I don't like it. I'm asking you to help me."
    "You're out of your mind. I can't help you. I wouldn't even if I were in a position to do so. As you said, I'm out of this."
    Moorcroft shook his head. "It's not your fault, Margaret, but the truth is, unwittingly or not, you started it. And now Cassidy is involving you again."
    Margaret sat very still in her chair. "What makes you say that?"
    "He's invited you down to that spread of his in Arizona, hasn't he?"
    "How do you know that?"
    Moorcroft sighed. "I told you, I don't have totally reliable inside information, but I have some. I've also heard your father has been seeing Beverly Cassidy."
    Margaret grimaced. "Your information is better than mine, Jack. I didn't know that myself until Thursday night. My own father. I didn't even believe it at first. How could Dad…" She bit her lip. "Never mind."
    She had spent most of Thursday night trying to convince herself that Rafe had lied to her. But several phone calls on Friday had failed to elicit any response from her father's home in California. His housekeeper had told her he had gone to Arizona.
    When Margaret had angrily dialed the Cassidy ranch she had been told by another housekeeper that her father was unable to come to the phone but was looking forward to seeing her on Monday.
    The unfortunate reality was that Rafe Cassidy rarely bluffed—so rarely, in fact, that when he did, he usually got away with it. Connor Lark probably was involved with Mrs. Cassidy and if that much was true, the part about selling Lark Engineering to Rafe was probably also true.
    That knowledge gave Margaret a sick feeling. What was Rafe up to? she wondered.
    "We're on the same side this time, Margaret." Jack's tone was soft and cajoling. "We're natural allies. Last time you were caught in the crunch. You were in love with Cassidy but you felt loyal to me. A real mess. But that's not true this time, is it? You don't owe Cassidy anything. It's payback time."
    "What are you talking about? I don't want revenge, I just want out of the whole thing."
    "You can't get out of it. Your father is involved. If he marries Beverly Cassidy, you're going to spend the rest of your life connected by family ties to Rafe Cassidy."
    "That notion is certainly enough to kill what's left of my appetite," Margaret said morosely. The thought of being related by marriage to Rafe was mind-boggling.
    Moorcroft picked up his latte and took a swallow. "You'll be going to Arizona, won't you?"
    She groaned. "Probably." She had been