by Diana Palmer
He noticed her sudden color and caught her gaze. She couldn’t seem to look away, and he didn’t even try to. For a space of seconds, they were fused in some sort of bond, prisoners of a sensual connection that made Kasie’s full lips part abruptly. His gaze fell to them and lingered with unexpected hunger.
Kasie dropped her fork onto her plate and jumped at the noise. “Sorry!” she said huskily as she fumbled with the fork.
“Didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” John asked with a smile. “Neither did any of us. About midnight, I thought seriously about giving up cattle ranching and becoming a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman.”
“I felt the same way,” Gil confessed. “We’re going to have to put a small line cabin out at the holding pens and keep a man there on stormy nights.”
“As long as I’m not on your list of candidates,” John told his brother.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Bess, don’t play with your food, please,” he added to the little girl, who was finished with her cereal and was now smearing eggs around the rim of her plate.
“I don’t like eggs, Daddy,” she muttered. “Do I gotta eat ’em?”
“Of course you do, young lady!” Miss Parsons said curtly. “Every last morsel.”
Bess looked tortured.
“Miss Parsons, could you ask Mrs. Charters to see me before she plans the supper menu, please?” Gil asked.
Miss Parsons got up. “I will. Eat those eggs, Bess.”
She left. Gil gave his oldest daughter a sign by placing his forefinger across his mouth. He lifted Bess’s plate, scraped the eggs onto his, and finished them off before Miss Parsons returned.
“Very good,” she said, nodding approvingly at Bess’s plate. “I told you that you’d grow accustomed to a balanced breakfast. We must keep our bodies healthy. Come on, now, girls. We’ll have a nice nap until your father’s ready to go to the movies.”
Bess grimaced, but she didn’t protest. She got up with Jenny and was shepherded out by the governess.
“Marshmallow,” John chided the older man, poking the air with his fork. “You should have made her eat them herself.”
“When you start eating liver and onions voluntarily, I’ll make Bess eat eggs,” Gil promised. “Want to come with us to the movies?” He named the picture they were going to see.
“Not me,” John said pleasantly. “I’m going to Billings to see a man about some more acreage.” He glanced at Kasie speculatively. “Want to tag along, Kasie?”
The question surprised her. While she was trying to think of a polite way to say she didn’t, Gil answered for her.
“Kasie’s going with us to the movies,” he replied, and his pale eyes dared her to argue. “The girls will have conniptions if we leave her behind. Besides, she likes cartoons. Don’t you, Kasie?”
“I’m just crazy about them, Mr. Callister,” she agreed with a tight smile, angry because he’d more or less forced her into agreeing to go.
“Mr. Callister was our father,” Gil said firmly. “Don’t use it with us.”
She grimaced. “I work for you. It doesn’t seem right.”
John was gaping at her. “You’re kidding.”
“No, she isn’t,” Gil assured him. “When you have a free minute, get her to tell you why she braids her hair. It’s a hoot.”
She glared at Gil. “You cut that out.”
He wiped his mouth with a white linen napkin and got to his feet. “I’ve got some phone calls to make before we go. We’ll leave at one, Kasie.”
“Phone calls on Sunday?” she asked John when his brother had left them alone.
“It’s yesterday in some parts of the world, and tomorrow in some other parts,” he reminded her. “You know how he is about business.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“What amazes me,” he mused, watching her, “is how much he grumbles about you. He loves women, as a rule. He’s always doing little things to make the job easier for Mrs. Charters. He lets Pauline get away with only working three days of the week, when he needs a full-time secretary worse than I do. But he’s hard on you.”
“He doesn’t like me,” she said quietly. “He can’t help it.”
“You don’t like him, either.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I can’t help it, either.” She picked up on something he’d said earlier. “How can Pauline make ends meet with only a part-time job?” she asked curiously.
“She’s independently wealthy,” John told her. “She doesn’t need a job at all, but she caught Gil at a weak moment. He doesn’t have many of them, believe me. I think she attracted him at first. Now things have cooled and he’s stuck with her. She’s tenacious.”
“Why would she need to work?” she wondered aloud.
“Because Gil needed a secretary, of course. She hasn’t had any business training, and I don’t doubt that the files are in a hellacious mess.”
“Couldn’t he get somebody else?”
“He tried to. Pauline cried all over him and he gave up.”
“He doesn’t look like a man who’d even notice tears,” she said absently.
“Appearances are deceptive. You saw how he was when the dog threatened the girls,” he reminded her. “He’s not immune to tears.”
“I’d need convincing,” she said and grinned wickedly.
He leaned back in his chair with his coffee cup in his hand and studied her. “You’re good with the kids,” he said. “You must have spent a lot of time around children.”
She lowered her eyes to her empty plate. “I did. I’m not formally taught or anything, but I do know a few things.”
“It shows. I’ve never seen Bess respond to any of her various governesses. She liked you on sight.”
“How many governesses has she had?” she asked curiously.
“Four. This year,” he amended.
Her eyebrows arched. “Why so many?”
“Are you afraid of spiders, garter snakes, or frogs?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Why?”
“Well, the others were. They got downright twitchy about opening drawers or pulling down bedcovers,” he recalled with a chuckle. “Bess likes garter snakes. She shared them with the governesses.”
“Oh, dear,” Kasie said.
“You see the point. That’s why Miss Parsons was hired. She’s the next best thing to a Marine DI, as you may have noticed.”
Her face lightened. “So that’s why he hired her. I did wonder.”
John sighed. “I wish he’d hired her to do the tax work on the payroll instead. She’s a natural, and since she’s a retired accountant that experience would make her an asset. We have a firm of C.P.A.’s to do yearly stuff, but our bookkeeper who did payroll got married and moved to L.A. just before we hired you.”
“And Miss Parsons got hired to look after the girls. She really dislikes children,” she added.
“I know. But Gil refuses to believe it. He’s been lax about work at the ranch for a while. He stayed on the road more and more, avoiding the memories after Darlene died. I felt bad for him, but things were going to pot here. I have to travel to show the bulls,” he added, “because the more competitions we win, the higher the prices we can charge for stud fees or young bulls. The ranch can’t run without anybody overseeing it.” He pursed his lips as he studied her. “I gather that you said something to him about neglecting the girls. I thought so,” he mused when she shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve told him, too, but he didn’t listen to me. Apparently he listens to you.”
“He’s already tried to fire me once,” she pointed out.
“You’re still here,” he replied.
“Yes. But I can’t help but wonder for how much longer,” she murmured, voicing her one real fear. “I could go back and live with my aunt, but it isn’t fair to her. I have to work an
d support myself. This was the only full-time job that I was qualified for. Jobs are thin on the ground, regardless of the reports coming out about how great the economy is.”
“How did you end up in Medicine Ridge in the first place?” he wondered.
“I was living with my aunt in Billings when I saw the ad for this job in the local paper. I’d already been all over Billings hoping for a full-time job and couldn’t find one. This one seemed tailor-made for me.”
“I’m glad you applied for it,” he said. “There were a lot of candidates, but we ruled out most of them in less than five minutes each. You were the only woman out there who could even type.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. They thought I wanted beauty instead of brains. I didn’t.” He smiled. “Not that you’re bad on the eyes, Kasie. But I wasn’t running a pageant.”
“I was surprised that your brother hired me,” she confessed. “He seemed to dislike me on sight. But when he found out how fast I could type, he was a lot less antagonistic.”
He wasn’t going to mention what Gil had said to him after he hired Kasie. It had been against Gil’s better judgment, and he’d picked her appearance and her pert manner to pieces. It was interesting that Gil was antagonistic toward her. Very interesting.
“You’re a whiz at the computer,” John said. “A real asset. I didn’t realize what you could do with a spreadsheet program until you modified ours. You’re gifted.”
“I love computers,” she said with a smile. “Pauline is going to enjoy them, too, when she learns just a little more. Once she discovers the Internet, she’ll be even more efficient. There are all sorts of Web sites dedicated to the cattle industry. It would be great for comparisons—even for buying and selling bulls. You could have your own Web site.”
John let out a low whistle. “Funny, I hadn’t even considered that. Kasie, it might revolutionize the way we do business, not to mention cutting down on the amount of travel we have to do every year.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” she said, smiling at him.
“Mention it to Gil when you go to the movies,” he coaxed. “Let’s see what he thinks.”
“He might like the idea better if it came from you,” she said.
“I think he’ll like it, period. I already do. Can you make a Web site?”
She grimaced. “No, I can’t. But I know a woman who can,” she added. “She works out of Billings. I met her when we were going to secretarial school. She’s really good, and she doesn’t charge an arm and a leg. I can get in touch with her, if you like.”
“Go ahead. We do a lot of communication by e-mail, but neither of us even thought about putting cattle on our own site. It’s a terrific idea!”
“You sound like Bess,” Gil said from the doorway. “What’s terrific?”
“We’re going on the Internet,” John said.
His big brother frowned. “The Internet?”
“Kasie can tell you what she’s proposed. It could open new doors for us in marketing. It’s international.”
Gil was quick. He caught on almost at once. “You mean, get a Web site and use it to buy and sell cattle,” he said.
“It will save you as much time as sending e-mail back and forth between potential buyers and sellers already does,” she added.
“Good idea.” Gil studied her with a curious smile. “Full of surprises aren’t you, Miss Mayfield?”
“She’s gifted,” John said, grinning at his brother. “I told you so. Now maybe you can stop talking about firing her, hmm?”
Gil pressed his lips together and refused to rise to the bait. “It’s almost one o’clock. If we’re going to the movies, let’s go. Kasie, fetch the girls.”
She almost saluted, but he looked vaguely irritated. It looked as though nothing she suggested was ever going to please him. She wondered why she didn’t just walk out and leave him to it. The thought was painful. She went up to get the little girls, more confused than ever.
Chapter Four
The girls chattered like birds all the way to town in Gil’s black Jaguar. Kasie sat in front and listened patiently, smiling, while they told her all about the movie they were going to see. They’d seen the previews on television when they watched their Saturday morning cartoons.
It was a warm, pretty day, and trees and shrubs were blooming profusely. It should have been perfect, but Kasie was uneasy. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Web sites, but it seemed an efficient way for Gil and John to move into Web-based commerce.
“You’re brooding,” Gil remarked. “Why?”
“I was wondering if I should have suggested anything about Internet business,” she said.
“Why not? It’s a good idea,” he said, surprising her. “John told me about the Web site designer. Tomorrow, I want you to get in touch with her and get the process started.”
“She’ll need you to tell her what you want on the site.”
“Okay.”
She glanced in the back seat where the girls were sharing a book and enthusing over the pop-up sections.
“I brought it home for them yesterday,” he commented, “and forgot to give it to them. They love books.”
“That’s the first step to getting them to love reading,” she said, smiling at the little heads bowed over the books. “Reading to them at night keeps it going.”
“Did your mother read to you?” he asked curiously.
“She probably did,” she mused, smiling sadly. “But Kantor and I were very young when she and our father...died. Mama Luke read to us, when we were older.”
“I suppose you liked science fiction,” he murmured.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“You love computers,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“I guess they do fit in with science fiction,” she had to admit. She eyed him curiously. “What sort of books did you like to read?”
“Pirate stories, cowboy stories. Stuff like that. Now, it’s genetics textbooks and management theory,” he added wryly. “I hardly ever have time to read just for fun.”
“Do your parents help you with the ranch?”
He seemed to turn to ice. “We don’t talk about our parents,” he said stiffly.
That sounded odd. But she was already in his bad books, so she didn’t pursue it. “It’s nice of you to take the girls to the movies.”
He slowed for a turn, his expression taut. “I don’t spend enough time with them,” he said. “You were right about that. It isn’t a lack of love. It’s a lack of delegation. You’d be amazed how hard it is to find good managers who want to live on a cattle ranch.”
“Maybe you don’t advertise in a wide enough range,” she suggested gently.
“What?”
She plunged ahead. “There are all sorts of trade magazines that carry ads with blind mailboxes,” she said. “You can have replies sent to the newspaper and nobody has to know who you are.”
“How do you know about the trade magazines?” he asked.
She grinned sheepishly. “I read them. Well, I ought to know something about cattle, since I work for a ranch, shouldn’t I?”
He shook his head. “You really are full of surprises, Kasie.”
“Kasie, what’s this big word?” Bess asked, thrusting the book at her. Kasie took it and sounded the word out phonetically, coaching the little girl in its pronunciation. She took the book back and began to teach the word to Jenny.
“You’re patient,” Gil remarked. “I notice that Miss Parsons doesn’t like taking time to teach them words.”
“Miss Parsons likes numbers.”
“Yes. She does.” He pulled into the theater parking lot, which was full of parents and children. He got everyone out and locked the door, grimacing as they walked past several minivans.
“They�
�re handy for little kids,” Kasie said wickedly. “Mothers love them, I’m told.”
“I love my kids, but I’m not driving a damned minivan,” he muttered.
She grinned at his expression. The little girls ran to get in line, and struck up a conversation with a child they knew, whose bored mother perked up when she saw Gil approaching.
“Hi, Gil!” she called cheerily. “We’re going to see the dinosaur movie! Is that why you’re here?”
“That’s the one,” he replied, pulling bills out of his wallet. He gave one to each of the little girls, and they bought their own tickets. Gil bought his and Kasie’s as they came to the window. “Hi, Amie,” he called to the little girl with Bess and Jenny, and he smiled. She smiled back. She was as dark as his children were fair, with black eyes and hair like her mother’s.
“We’re going to sit with Amie, Daddy!” Bess said excitedly, waving her ticket and Jenny’s.
“I guess that leaves me with you and...?” the other woman paused deliberately.
“This is Kasie,” Gil said, and took her unexpectedly by the arm, with a bland smile at Amie’s mom. “You’re welcome to join us, of course, Connie.”
The other woman sighed. “No, I guess I’ll sit with the girls. Nice to have seen you,” she added, and moved ahead with the girls, looking bored all over again.
Gil slid his hand down into Kasie’s. She reacted nervously to the unexpected touch, but his fingers clung, warm and strong against her own. He drew her along to the line already forming alongside the velvet ropes as the ticket takers prepared to let people through to the various theaters.
“Humor me,” he said, and it looked as though he were whispering sweet nothings into her ear. “I’m the entrée, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Kasie glanced around and saw a number of women with little children and no man along, and two of them gave him deliberate, wistful glances and smiled.
“Single moms?” she whispered back, having to go on tiptoe.
He caught her around the waist and held her against his hip. “No. Get the picture?”
Her breath caught. “Oh, dear,” she said heavily.