Читать книгу The Rancher - Diana Palmer - Страница 9

Chapter Three

Maddie couldn’t help but stare at Cort as he leaned over the desk to read the last page of her father’s breeding journal. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And that physique! He was long and lean, but also muscular. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and in the opening of his chambray shirt, thick curling black hair peeked out.

She’d never been overly interested in intimacy. Never having indulged, she had no idea how it felt, although she’d been reading romance novels since her early teens. She did know how things worked between men and women from health class. What she didn’t know was why women gave in to men. She supposed it came naturally.

Cort felt her eyes on him and turned, so that he was looking directly into her wide, shocked gray eyes. His own dark ones narrowed. He knew that look, that expression. She was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t fooled.

“Take a picture,” he drawled, because her interest irritated him. She wasn’t his type. Not at all.

Her reaction shamed him. She looked away, cleared her throat and went beet-red. “Sorry,” she choked. “I was just thinking. You were sort of in the way. I was thinking about my fairies...”

He felt guilty. That made him even more irritable. “What fairies?”

She stumbled and had to catch herself as she went past him. She was so embarrassed she could hardly even walk.

She went to the shelf where she’d put the newest one. Taking it down very carefully, she carried it to the desk and put it in front of him.

He caught his breath. He picked it up, delicately for a man with such large, strong hands, and held it up to his eyes. He turned it. He was smiling. “This is really beautiful,” he said, as if it surprised him. He glanced at her. “You did this by yourself?”

She moved uneasily. “Yes,” she muttered. What did he think—that she had somebody come in and do the work so she could claim credit for it?

“I didn’t mean it like that, Maddie,” he said gently. The sound of her name on his lips made her tingle. She didn’t dare look up, because her attraction to him would surely show. He knew a lot more about women than she knew about men. He could probably tell already that she liked him. It had made him mad. So she’d have to hide it.

“Okay,” she said. But she still wouldn’t look up.

He gave the beautiful little statuette another look before he put it down very gently on the desk. “You should be marketing those,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen things half as lovely sell for thousands of dollars.”

“Thousands?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. Sometimes five figures. I was staying at a hotel in Arizona during a cattlemen’s conference and a doll show was exhibiting at the same hotel. I talked to some of the artists.” He shook his head. “It’s amazing how much collectors will pay for stuff like that.” He indicated the fairy with his head. “You should look into it.”

She was stunned. “I never dreamed people would pay so much for a little sculpture.”

“Your paintings are nice, too,” he admitted. “My mother loves the drawing you did. She bought it at that art show last year. She said you should be selling the sculptures, too.”

“I would. It’s just that they’re like my children,” she confessed, and flushed because that sounded nutty. “I mean...well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Each one is unique and you put a lot of yourself into it,” he guessed. “So it would be hard to sell one.”

“Yes.” She did look up then, surprised that he was so perceptive.

“You have the talent. All you need is the drive.”

“Drive.” She sighed. She smiled faintly. “How about imminent starvation? Does that work for drive?”

He laughed. “We wouldn’t let you starve. Your bull calves are too valuable to us,” he added, just when she thought he might actually care.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. “In that journal of Dad’s—” she changed the subject “—he talks about heritability traits for lean meat with marbling to produce cuts that health-conscious consumers will buy. Can you explain to me how I go about producing herd sires that carry the traits we breed for?”

He smiled. “It’s complicated. Want to take notes?”

She sighed. “Just like going back to school.” Then she remembered school, and the agonies she went through in her junior and senior years because of Odalie Everett, and her face clenched.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

She swallowed. She almost said what was wrong. But she’d been down that road with him already, making comments she shouldn’t have made about Odalie. She wasn’t going to make him mad. Not now, when he was being pleasant and helpful.

“Nothing. Just a stray thought.” She smiled. “I’ll get some paper and a pencil.”

* * *

After a half hour she put down the pencil. “It’s got to be like learning to speak Martian,” she muttered.

He laughed out loud. “Listen, I didn’t come into the world knowing how this stuff worked, either. I had to learn it, and if my dad hadn’t been a patient man, I’d have jumped off a cliff.”

“Your dad is patient?” she asked, and couldn’t help sounding surprised.

“I know he’s got a reputation for being just the opposite. But he really is patient. I had a hard time with algebra in high school. He’d take me into the office every night and go over problems with me until I understood how to do them. He never fussed, or yelled, or raised his voice. And I was a problem child.” He shook his head. “I’m amazed I got through my childhood in one piece. I’ve broken half the bones in my body at some point, and I know my mother’s gray hairs are all because of me. Morie was a little lady. She never caused anybody any trouble.”

“I remember,” Maddie said with a smile. “She was always kind to me. She was a couple of years ahead of me, but she was never snobby.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “There’s a hidden comment in there.”

She flushed. “I didn’t mention anybody else.”

“You meant Odalie,” he said. “She can’t help being beautiful and rich and talented,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t her fault that her parents put her in public school instead of private school, where she might have been better treated.”

“Better treated.” She glared at him. “Not one teacher or administrator ever had a bad word to say about her, even though she bullied younger girls mercilessly and spent most of her time bad-mouthing people she didn’t like. One year she had a party for our whole class, at the ranch. She invited every single girl in the class—except me.”

Cort’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”

“My father went to see her father, that’s how unintentional it was,” she replied quietly. “When Cole Everett knew what she’d done to me, he grounded her for a month and took away her end-of-school trip as punishment.”

“That seems extreme for not inviting someone to a party,” he scoffed.

“I guess that’s because you don’t know about the other things she did to me,” she replied.

“Let me guess—she didn’t send you a Valentine’s Day card, either,” he drawled in a tone that dripped sarcasm.

She looked at him with open sadness. “Sure. That’s it. I held a grudge because she didn’t send me a holiday card and my father went to see the school principal and Odalie’s father because he liked starting trouble.”

Cort remembered her father. He was the mildest, most forgiving man anywhere around Branntville. He’d walk away from a fight if he could. The very fact that he got involved meant that he felt there was more than a slight problem.

But Cort loved Odalie, and here was this bad-

tempered little frump making cracks about her, probably because she was jealous.

“I guess if you don’t have a real talent and you aren’t as pretty, it’s hard to get along with someone who has it all,” he commented.

Her face went beet-red. She stood up, took her father’s journal, closed it and put it back in the desk drawer. She faced him across the width of the desk.

“Thank you for explaining the journal to me,” she said in a formal tone. “I’ll study the notes I took very carefully.”

“Fine.” He started to leave, hesitated. He turned and looked back at her. He could see an unusual brightness in her eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just, well, you don’t know Odalie. She’s sweet and kind, she’d never hurt anybody on purpose.”

“I don’t have any talent, I’m ugly and I lie.” She nodded. “Thanks.”

“Hell, I never said you lied!”

She swallowed. Loud voices and curses made her nervous. She gripped the edge of the desk.

“Now what’s wrong?” he asked angrily.

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said quickly.

He took a sudden, quick step toward her. She backed up, knocked over the desk chair and almost fell again getting it between him and herself. She was white in the face.

He stopped in his tracks. His lips fell open. In all his life, he’d never seen a woman react that way.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, but not in a loud or menacing tone.

She swallowed. “Nothing. Thanks for coming over.”

He scowled. She looked scared to death.

Great-Aunt Sadie had heard a crash in the room. She opened the door gingerly and looked in. She glanced from Maddie’s white face to Cort’s drawn one. “Maddie, you okay?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking back and forth to Cort’s as if she, too, was uneasy.

“I’m fine. I just...knocked the chair over.” She laughed, but it was a nervous, quick laugh. “Cort was just leaving. He gave me lots of information.”

“Nice of him,” Sadie agreed. She moved closer to Maddie, as if prepared to act as a human shield if Cort took another step toward the younger woman. “Good night, Cort.”

He wanted to know what was wrong. It was true he’d said some mean things, but the fear in Maddie’s eyes, and the looks he was getting, really disturbed him. He moved to the door, hesitated. “If you need any more help...” he began.

“I’ll call. Sure. Thanks for offering.” Maddie’s voice sounded tight. She was standing very still. He was reminded forcibly of deer’s eyes in headlights.

“Well, I’ll get on home. Good night.”

“Night,” Maddie choked out.

He glanced from one woman to the other, turned and pulled the door closed behind him.

Maddie almost collapsed into the chair. Tears were running down her cheeks. Great-Aunt Sadie knelt beside the chair and pulled her close, rocking her. “There, there, it’s all right. He’s gone. What happened?”

“I mentioned about Odalie not inviting me to the party and he said I was just jealous of her. I said something, I don’t...remember what, and he started toward me, all mad and impatient...” She closed her eyes, shivering. “I can’t forget. All those years ago, and I still can’t forget!”

“Nobody ever told Cort just what Odalie did to you, did they?”

“Apparently not,” Maddie said heavily. She wiped her eyes. “Her dad made her apologize, but I know she never regretted it.” She drew in a breath. “I told her that one day somebody was going to pay her back for all the mean things she did.” She looked up. “Cort thinks she’s a saint. If he only knew what she’s really like...”

“It wouldn’t matter,” the older woman said sadly. “Men get hooked on a pretty face and they’d believe white was black if the woman told them it was. He’s infatuated, baby. No cure for that but time.”

“I thought he was so sexy.” Maddie laughed. She brushed at her eyes again. “Then he lost his temper like that. He scared me,” she said on a nervous smile.

“It’s all right. Nobody’s going to hurt you here. I promise.”

She hugged the older woman tight. “Thanks.”

“At the time, that boy did apologize, and he meant it,” Sadie reminded her. “He was as much a victim as you were.”

“Yes, but he got in trouble and he should have. No man, even an angry young one with justification, should ever do what he did to a girl. He didn’t have nightmares for a month, either, did he, or carry emotional scars that never go away? Sad thing about him,” she added quietly, “he died overseas when a roadside bomb blew up when he was serving in the Middle East. With a temper like that, I often wondered what he might do to a woman if he got even more upset than he was at me that time.”

“No telling. And just as well we don’t have to find out.” Her face hardened. “But you’re right about that Odalie girl. Got a bad attitude and no compassion for anybody. One of these days, life is going to pay her out in her own coin. She’ll be sorry for the things she’s done, but it will be too late. God forgives,” she added. “But there’s a price.”

“What’s that old saying, ‘God’s mill grinds slowly, but relentlessly’?”

“Something like that. Come on. I’ll make you a nice cup of hot coffee.”

“Make that a nice cup of hot chocolate instead,” Maddie said. “I’ve had a rough day and I want to go to bed.”