by Lori Wick
In truth, Kyle's estimation of her rose slightly when she didn't start to babble or try to offer excuses. He stared at her for a moment longer, thinking she was too young to be working for anyone, and then dropped his eyes to her resume. He read in silence until he got to her age.
"Is this correct? It says you're32."He said the number with such disbelief that Shasta blushed.
"Yes, sir," she managed, all the while thinking that staying in Australia and facing the happily married Frank and DeeDee would have been preferable to this.
Kyle's cobalt blue eyes studied her from under slightly bushy brows. More silence followed as Kyle's eyes dropped to the papers and skimmed the sheets, not really reading the dates until another number jumped out at him.
"It says here that you've worked on a sheep ranch for 11 years."
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"Yes sir,"
"In the office?"
Shasta blinked and said softly, "No, sir. I'm sorry, but I don't know a thing about office work. Morgan said you needed ajackeroo."
"A what?" It was Kyle's turn to blink.
"Oh, uhm, a.jackeroo, a ranch hand."
Kyle nodded slowly. Outside of a brief conversation a few weeks ago, it had been years since he'd talked to Morgan Clark, and he'd completely forgotten the little differences in their speech. He had to say one thing concerning Miss Shasta McGregor--
that accent of hers was real easy on the ears.
"Why this ranch?"
"I beg your pardon?" Shasta was not prepared for the change in subject.
"What brings you to Harrington?"
"Oh, well," she stumbled slightly, her face paling some. "I was talking with Morgan, and he said you hired extra help in the summer. I thought I might enjoy the change."
Kyle could tell that there was more to this than what she'd just revealed and could only pray that this young woman was not in trouble with the law or in some other hairy situation. He did not take note of the fact that she had only just arrived in the United States before reading on.
"It says here that you rope and train."
"Yes, sir."
Again the eyes studied her; Shasta knew she was being weighed. "I'll give you a try, Miss McGregor. When can you start?"
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Shasta took a deep breath. The last days were beginning to tell on her, and she knew she had to be honest.
"It'stempting to tell you that I can start right now, but in truth I need some rest. I didn't have breakfast, and my night was rough. iF i could have some food and a place to bunk down, I can give you 100 percent of myself in the morning, or even later on this afternoon, but right now I wouldn't be much use to anyone."
Again Kyle's opinion of her rose. The ranch was in a rather remote area, and he could well guess in what type of place she must have stayed.
"All right," he said and rose. "I'll have Jean show you to your cabin and then the kitchen. I'll expect you
on the job tomorrow morning at seven sharp." "Thankyou,Mr. Harrington."
He nodded, showed her to the door, told Jean what he needed, and disappeared back inside.
"Here," Jean offered immediately. "Let me carry your bag. You look all in."
"It was a long night," Shasta admitted as she lifted her saddle.
"Well, we'll get you all set in no time. I have some papers for you to fill out, but they can wait."
Her kindness was like a balm, and in little time Shasta had been shown her cabin and then taken to the kitchen for some food. Marcy, the camp cook, seemed to sense that she was too weary to converse and was silent while Shasta inhaled a plateful of food. She then made her way back to the cabin, ignoring the bathroom with its pristine shower stall, and collapsed onto her bed.
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"Okay, we've got strays to round up," Brian said to the group the afternoon of the next day. "Cal and Bennett can ride together, and Peter and Lloyd can go as a team. You'll ride with me, Shasta, and Lex, you can go with Scott."
"I thought Kyle wanted to go with us." This came from Scott, who was a regular at the ranch.
"Oh." Brian had not been aware of this. "I'll check with him."
"Did you want Shasta to go with us.'' Lex asked a little too eagerly, and Brian worked at hiding a smile. Like Shasta and some of the others, Lex was there for the tourist season.
"No," he said kindly, "she can ride with me." Scott was married, and Brian was engaged, but they understood Lex's interest in their new hand and exchanged smiles as only longtime friends could do. Lex, young and very single, missed the exchange, and Shasta, the object of nearly all the male eyes in the group, was working on a stirrup and missed the whole thing.
When Lex, Scott, and the others moved away, Brian turned to the newest member of Harrington Cattle Company.
"I've got to run to the office, Shasta. I'll be right back."
"All right," she replied, only glancing at him before going back to the work in her hands.
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Brian left his horse at the fence and covered the ground with long strides. The door was open to Kyle's office, so he stepped right in.
"We're headed out for strays. Scotty mentioned that you wanted to go."
"Yes, I do," Kyle told him, feeling a need to be away from his desk. "Is it-just the two of us.''
"No, we've got Shasta. I sent Lex with Scotty. I think he'll do better if Shasta is not around."
Kyle looked at him for a moment. "Like that, is it.'' Brian nodded. "Not that she's encouraged it," he was swift to add, "but he seems rather taken, as do some of the others."
Kyle's brows rose. "To each his own."
As the older man reached for his hat, Brian frowned at him in puzzlement but didn't speak. What in the world could he object to in Shasta's looks. Ah,
well, it was not his place to question.
"Let's go," Kyle said.
The men, alike in height if not in build, walked side by side to the horses. Shasta had just swung onto her mount, Daisy, and didn't notice their approach, or she would have seen the check in Kyle's stride when he spotted her.
Kyle had not known what to expect where Shasta McGregor was concerned, but even before he saw her face, he could tell there was a change. The fatigue was gone--she had literally been drooping in the office chair the day before--and he could also tell in an instant that she'd spent many hours in a saddle. When she finally turned to face him, he was in for more of a surprise.
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Makeup! Who in the world would wear makeup to work
on a ranch?he asked himself, his brow drawn into a frown as he remembered that JoAnn had. Kyle was not happy with this thought.
Shasta, who didn't own makeup of any type, watched the emotions chase across her employer's face and experienced another feeling of dread. She'd eaten with the other hands that morning and done the chores given to her by Brian, but she hadn't given any thought to the reality that she was on trial. Now that fact became glaringly real.
It would be many weeks before Shasta knew what was in Kyle's heart. He was already pleased to see that she seemed to know her way around a ranch, but if she was husband hunting, he thought to himself, she had come to the wrong place.
Two more days passed, and Shasta worked hard. It was not like her to ever sluff off. She was enjoying the work, and as she told Kyle, giving it her all. She hadn't seen that much of him, but somehow thought he might be pleased with her performance. This feeling lasted until Marcy cut her hand while working in the kitchen.
"Isit bad?" Brian asked, a few others, including Shasta, at his side.
"Yes," Kyle told him, his faceconcerned."I'm taking her to the hospital. You're on your own for supper tonight."
Kyle turned away, but Shasta, not having understood what he meant, went after him.
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"Kyle," she began, having been told the first day that they operated on a first-name basis. "What about supper? Would you like me to fix something?"
"The last thing I need is for you to be messing around the kitc
hen," he told her unkindly. "Like I said, you're on your own."
Shasta wasn't particularly hurt--she knew he was worried for Marcy--but she was confused. It was a relief to turn and find Brian standing right behind her. "What does he mean when he says we're on our
own."
"For supper," Brian said and saw that it was still not clear to her. "In other words, we have to find our own supper."
Shasta looked surprised; she'd never heard of such a thing. Seeing her look, Brian hastened to explain.
"There are vending machines here at the rear of the kitchen, but there's also a snack bar at the hotel. None of us likes to dress up for the dining room, but you might like it."
"I'm sorry, Brian," Shasta said, her hands raised in defeat. "I've still no idea what you're talking about."
Brian kindly interpreted. "The guests arriving in a few days don't stay here at the ranch. They're guests of the Meadowland Hotel. They come by appointment to the ranch and are delivered by a van."
"Is the hotel a huge white structure to the east?" "Yes," Brian smiled. "That's the one. Marcy keeps the vending machines stocked with sandwiches and fruit for the hands as well as the guests. So tonight with Marcy gone, we can use the machines, go up to the hotel, or even drive into town."
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"I see," she smiled at him. "Thank you for explaining." "What will you do?"
The question stumped her for a moment, and she scrambled for an answer.
"I haven't decided," she managed at last and was thankful Brian didn't press her. She wasn't sure why she felt ashamed, but the thought of telling him that she had no American currency was rather embarrassing to her.
"Well, I'll probably go to the snack bar," he said as he turned away. "If you want a ride, just let me know." "Thank you, Brian."
They went their separate ways then, Shasta to her cabin and Brian to let the others know. Thankful she was rooming alone, Shasta sat on the edge of her bed for a moment and thought about her life in the last week. It seemed impossible that less than a week ago she'd been in the safe comfort of Burbarra.
"If I were to look at just the circumstances, Lord, I would say this has all been a mistake. I feel stranded and more lonely than I've ever been in my life. This is worse than when my folks died or when Frank broke off our engagement."
Thinking of Frank and saying his name out loud when she was finally private enough to give in to her emotions proved too much for Shasta. Tears filled her eyes, and she didn't even try to stem them. They poured down her face, and Shasta's breathing became ragged. Frank's rejection still hurt so much. He had said that he loved her and that he wanted her to be his forever, but she didn't hold a candle to DeeDee. Frank never actually said this, but it was all too clear.
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Suddenly Shasta was very glad that she didn't have to face anyone for supper. She knew she would be hungry by breakfast, but for the time being, supper or no supper, Shasta was glad to have a reason to stay right where she was for the rest of the evening.
It wasn't very late, not quite nine o'clock, but Shasta's lights were out. Kyle hesitated to do it, but he knew he had to knock. As his knuckles wrapped on the door, he wondered what he would do if she was out, but a light came on before he could go anywhere with the thought. A moment later, the door opened a
crack.
"Who is it.''
"I'm sorry, Shasta," Kyle began. "I hate to disturb you, but I need to speak with you."
"All right." She sounded only slightly sleepy. "I'll be out in a shake."
She shut the door and let herself almost silently outside in less than five minutes. Kyle was some yards away, and as Shasta moved to join him, he saw that she'd donned pants, shirt, and boots. He felt bad that he'd disturbed her, but he didn't know what else to do.
"Is Marcy all right?" Shasta asked before Kyle could say a word.
"Yes, but the doctor says she needs to rest for a few days, and that's the reason I've come. First of all I need to apologize for the way I treated you when I left this afternoon. I have no excuse, and I'm truly sorry."
"I appreciate that," Shasta told him, "but I think I understand. Is there anything I can do to help.''
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"As a matter of fact you can. Do you really know how to cook, or were you only trying to help out for tonight."
"Well," Shasta said modestly but with a slight smile in her voice. "I've never cooked for more than 50, but I'll do my best if there are more."
Kyle smiled in her presence for the first time, and Shasta was amazed at the way it transformed his face. She didn't think he could be any more than ten years older than she was, but that smile made him look years younger. And Kyle kept right on smiling. He was swiftly coming to think that Shasta was an angel in blue jeans and dusty boots. Shasta finally smiled in return.
"It will just be for the 15 of us," Kyle told her, "and the food needs to be on the tables by 6:30 tomorrow morning."
"All right. Did you want me to fix anything in particular?"
"No. Cook whatever suits you, just as long as there's plenty and it's filling."
Shasta nodded. "I'm glad Marcy will be all right."
"Yes. She's supposed to lie low, but I doubt if that
will last longer than a day. I'll have to let you know." "That's fine."
"Are you certain.'' he asked, and Shasta frowned at him. "I mean," he continued, his voice now very light, "you did hire on as ajackeroo."
"No worries," Shasta said, smiling, and Kyle grinned in return. There was no one else around, and the temperature had dropped with the sun.
"If that's all, I'll turn in now," Shasta said softly.
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"Sure," Kyle agreed, his voice just as hushed.
"Goodnight, Shasta, and thank you."
"You're welcome. Goodnight."
Kyle turned to watch her, telling himself he wanted to be sure she got back inside safely, but at the same time wondering why he was so sorry to see her go at all.
Kyle watched Shasta wipe sweat from her upper lip for the third time and wondered how in the world he could have mistaken her complexion for makeup. Up close he could see that she had skin like a perfectly made-up model.
He'd come in earlier to find her cutting onions and green peppers to go with the potatoes she was frying and asked if he could give a hand. She hadn't started the coffee, so he did that and now watched her turning pancakes with ease.
"Did you cook for Morgan.''
"Off and on. Peg took care of it most of the time, but over the years you pick up things."
"Well, I certainly appreciate your filling in." Shasta smiled but did not answer, and a few moments later the others arrived. She put the food on the table, and sitting down, ate with the other hands graciously accepting everyone's praise over the meal She met Clare Sumner, Jean's sister-in-law, when she arrived to clean and cook until Marcy returned an finally went out with the others to work the range. It looked like it was going to be a long day.
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"You didn't tell me she was pretty," Clare spoke with familiar ease, her arms elbow deep in suds. She'd known Kyle since he was a little boy.
"Who?" Kyle pretended not to know.
"Shasta."
Kyle didn't speak for a moment, his mind on the woman who'd cooked that morning.
"She's a good worker," he finally said, his eyes on some distant spot.
Clare decided not to comment, and a moment later Kyle seemed to shake himself.
"I need to get going. Will you be all right.'' "Yes. How many for lunch.'' "About 20."
"All right. I'll have it ready."
Kyle took his leave then, his heart thoughtful as he thanked God for Clare's willingness to fill in. He also prayed on Marcy's behalf. He knew that the doctors would keep a close watch for infection, but he also knew that she would be chafing to be back in action soon. Moving his mind toward matters of the day, he walked toward the barn.
You didn't tall me she uas pretty. Clare's comment rang in
Kyle's ears a few hours later as he watched Shasta in action and thought how true it was.
Shasta was pretty. She was also bright, fun, positive, encouraging, experienced, and hardworking, but she was not, as he'd originally believed, looking for a man.
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In fact, Shasta McGregor was so unaware of the male attention she often received that she fascinated Kyle. Lex could barely keep his eyes off of her, and Bennett and Peter openly flirted with her on a regular basis. However, anytime the subject ranged to the personal, Shasta would simply smile and not reply. She didn't even acknowledge comments on the way she looked.
He had heard the men tell her that she was beautiful, that her hair was like a streak of sunshine down her back, and that her eyes were the largest and deepest brown they'd ever seen. All of which were offered in sincerity, but Shasta always looked slightly indulgent over these remarks, or at the very least, openly skeptical.
Kyle had never known anyone like her. He was going to be 45 on his next birthday, and for the first time in his life wondered whether they might not have become close, married even, if he'd met Shasta sooner. He knew it was too late now; he was too old to start such a life and change all of his ways, but even having the thought surprised him.
He mentally shook his head. The guests would be arriving even before they were ready, and he had no time for such contemplation. Determined to put his thoughts where they belonged, Kyle went back to work.
The day before the first guests were due, Marcy, who had come back to work in fine form, announced that she would be going into town after lunch to buy
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supplies. In need of some very personal items, Shasta debated what to do. She had yet to see a paycheck from the Harrington Cattle Company, and since she hadn't really become close to anyone at the ranch, she hesitated to ask anyone for money.
Kyle had been especially kind in the last few days, and after some thought, Shasta realized that she should go to him. He was in his office, and when he looked rather pleased to see her, Shasta felt emboldened.
"Kyle," she began. "Marcy is going into town this afternoon, and I wondered if you could spare me for a few hours?"
"Sure. The guests arrive tomorrow, and I won't be able to let you go much after that."