Pete's attention was darting from one of them to the other. He looked uncomfortable.
"Partly," Bordeaux said. He wouldn't look at her, and that fact confirmed her suspicions.
Pete turned away and his soft footsteps faded into the darkness. Did Pete know? It wasn't merely chance that Bordeaux had found her. He knew exactly where to look. The only way he could have known was by asking Mrs. Hertz.
"Well, you found me," she said coldly. "What did you want to talk about?"
Bordeaux seemed to be at a loss for words. The firelight flickered weakly; creating shadows on his face, making his expression hard to discern. Yet his silence said volumes. She stiffened as he stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on each of her shoulders.
"Cassie," he said in a controlled voice. "I don't know how to tell you without just blurting it out." He sucked in a breath. "Your father asked me to look for you while I was out this way, and bring you home if I could."
She shoved his hands from her shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me that the first day?" When he remained silent, she continued. "That's why you've been helping me, isn't it? Trying to get on my good side."
"No," he answered flatly.
Fury boiled up in her chest and poured from her eyes. He was lying, sure enough. "You're as bad as he is!" She hissed at him.
She turned, running blindly for the privacy of her wagon. It was all a ploy to get the ranch, and Bordeaux was right in the middle. No wonder he had been so elusive. He didn't care about her. All he wanted was the ranch.
By the time she reached the wagon, the desert was bathed in moonlight. Quick steps whispered through the sand behind her. Bordeaux wasn't giving up easily. She grabbed the handle of her whip and whirled to face him.
"Don't you come near me," she said, horrified when the words were torn by a sob.
He glanced at the whip and his jaw muscles worked. "Calm down, Cassie. I just want to talk to you."
She dashed the tears from her eyes with her shirtsleeve. "You've talked enough, now get away from me."
He had used her and she had played right into his hands. She raised the whip, choking out words through a constricted throat. "I said get away from me."
He took a step closer. "Cassie..."
She flicked the whip so that the end of it snapped on his shoulder. A warning, no more.
He winced and then took a determined step in her direction. The look of sheer fury on his face replaced her anger with fear. Again she lashed out with the whip - this time in earnest. But Bordeaux was ready. With lightning speed, he caught the end of the whip in his hand and jerked violently, catching her off balance and pulling her off her feet. She hit the soft sand and he was instantly on top of her, wrestling the whip from her hand.