Page 28 of Fool's Gold

They both stood, and she turned to walk to the house when Rafe's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

She looked up at him, annoyed. "Now what?"

His eyes narrowed, and he held out his open hand. "Give me your keys, Sarah."

Her mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious." The determined look in his brown eyes rocked her back on her heels.

A nerve pulsed in his jaw. "I'm dead serious, wife. I'm holding you to your part of the bargain."

Her heart twisted. Her word wasn't good enough.

She clenched the keys tightly, then tossed them at him. "Here they are, husband. I hope you choke on them."

She stomped off toward the ranch house, never looking back.

"So, what goes on at these meetings?" Sarah asked tightly.

Her interest encouraged Rafe, even though he knew she was madder than a wet hen right now. And she had cause because he'd acted like an ass. He'd panicked when he'd come home to find her gone. It was a replay of the night she'd run out on him.

"Any concerns or disputes between ranchers are worked out here. Also, if there are any problems with the local or federal government, they're brought up."

"What's on the agenda for the evening?" She glanced at him as they walked into the grange hall.

"I'm not sure. I've been too busy to go to many meetings lately." His eyes narrowed as he watched Blackthorn and Bob Wilson, the local US Game and Wildlife official, walk toward the platform.

Something must be up, he mused. It was unusual to see Bob at the meetings. He'd wondered what was on Blackthorn's mind since his visit the other day.

Nevell Blackthorn walked up to the podium. He glanced around the room, then his gaze settled on Rafe and Sarah. He smiled a self-satisfied smirk.

Rafe met Blackthorn's gaze and held it steady. He had never been able to beat Rafe in a fair fight, and he backed down now by looking away.

Rafe grew tense. He probably shouldn't have brought Sarah, but the opportunity to show her around town on his arm had been too tempting to resist.

He led her to a row of folding chairs and sat next to the Barclays.

"Hi there," June said.

"Hello," Sarah replied.

Blackthorn cleared his throat. "Settle down, people. I want to call this meeting to order." The room quieted. Blackthorn turned to the man seated on the platform. "Bob Wilson of the US Game and Wildlife service is here to address a grave concern that's recently come to my attention."

Bob Wilson, a short, dark-haired man, stood and walked to the podium. Rafe knew him as a fair guy, but a warden that went by the book. If there was a problem, he'd usually bring it up with the individual concerned rather than address them in a public forum. Just what was Blackthorn up to?

Suddenly, Rafe didn't want to know. Realizing Blackthorn was about to pull a fast one, Rafe grabbed Sarah's hand.

She turned to look at him. "What is it?"

He leaned toward her. "Come on, we're getting out of here."

She frowned and pulled her hand away. "But you're the one who insisted we come tonight."

"Well, now I want to leave."

She sat back in her seat. "Shh, the meetings already started."

Rafe grimaced. He gave Blackthorn a stern look as Wilson cleared his throat.

Wilson adjusted the microphone several inches lower and peered at the audience. "I'm here to talk about a problem I’ve discovered. The killing of wolves recently returned to the wild. Could I have the lights dimmed? I have some slides to show."

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