The Cowboy

worked things out."
    "I wasn't wrong. I did what I had to do. If you'd had the decency not to use me in your campaign to beat Moorcroft to Spencer in the first place, the entire situation would never have developed."
    Rafe swore softly and then straightened away from the wall as Tom approached with the luggage. "Go say hello to your father, Maggie."
    Feeling a little more cheerful because it seemed like she'd just won that round, Maggie crossed the living room and opened one of the glass doors. Her father looked up as she stepped onto the patio.
    "Maggie, my girl, you're here. It's about time. Come on over and have some tea. Bev and I've been waitin' for you to come rescue me from Cassidy's clutches. Good to see you, girl, good to see you. Been a while since we talked."
    "We could have had a nice long talk if you'd bothered to answer the phone when I called down here to see what was going on."
    "Now, Maggie, girl, don't go gettin' on your high horse. I only did what I thought was best. You know that."
    It was impossible to hold on to her anger when her father looked at her with such delight. Margaret saw the relaxed good humor in his eyes and she sighed inwardly. No question about it, her father was here of his own free will.
    Connor Lark was a big man, almost as big as Rafe, and he was built like a mountain. There was a hint of a belly cantilevered out over the waistband of his swimming trunks, but he still looked very solid. His black hair had long since turned silver and his aqua eyes, so like her own, were as lively as ever.
    Margaret's mother had always claimed he was a diamond in the rough whom she'd had to spend a great deal of time polishing. Connor always claimed she'd enjoyed every minute of the task and Margaret knew she had. From a desperately poor background as a rancher, Connor had risen to become a self-made entrepreneur who had built Lark Engineering into a thriving modern business.
    "Well, Dad. Looks like you're enjoying the process of selling out." Margaret smiled affectionately at her father and then turned a slightly wary smile on the attractive woman who sat on the other side of the table. "Hello, Bev. Nice to see you again."
    Rafe's mother was a trim, energetic-looking woman who was approximately the same age as Connor, although she looked younger. Her short, well-styled hair was the color of fine champagne. She was wearing a black-and-white swimsuit cover-up and a pair of leather sandals that projected an image of subtle elegance, even though they constituted sportswear. Bev's expression was gracious but her pale gray eyes held the same hint of wariness Margaret knew were in her own.
    "Hello, Margaret. I'm pleased to see you again."
    Margaret leaned down to kiss her father's cheek, thinking that she and Bev were both good at social lies. She was well aware she had not made a particularly good impression on Beverly Cassidy on the one occasion they had met last year. There was an excellent reason for that. Bev Cassidy had not considered Margaret a good candidate as a wife for her one and only son. Margaret tended to agree with her.
    "Do sit down, Margaret," Bev said, reaching for the pitcher of iced tea and pouring her guest a glass. "You must be exhausted from your trip. Your father and I just finished a swim. After you've said hello you must go and put on your suit. I'm sure a dip in the pool will feel good." She turned her welcoming smile on her son as Rafe came through the glass doors and followed Margaret to the shaded loungers. "Oh, there you are, Rafe. Iced tea?"
    "Thanks."
    He held out his hand for the glass as he sat down beside Margaret on one of the loungers. His powerfully muscled thigh brushed her leg and Margaret promptly shifted to put a few more inches between them. He ignored the small retreat.
    Margaret took a long, fortifying sip of iced tea and studied the three people who surrounded her. Her father and Bev appeared to be waiting for her to make the next move. Rafe didn't look particularly concerned one way or the other. To look at him one would have thought this was a perfectly normal family gathering. Margaret frowned over her glass.
    "Why don't we all stop playing games," she suggested in a voice that she hoped hid her own inner tension. "We all know this isn't a happy little poolside party."
    "Speak for yourself," Connor suggested easily. "I'm happy." He reached across the table and caught Bev's hand, smiling at the older woman. "And I think Bev is, too. Did Rafe tell you