Читать книгу Diamond Spur - Diana Palmer - Страница 11

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FIRST TWO outfits that Kate designed had been cut, and sewn, and Dessie Cagle had them sitting on a mannequin the next day in the sample room when Kate got to work.

Dessie beamed at her, and the designer, Sandy, laughed at the expression on her face.

“There you go,” Sandy mused, one hand on her ample hip. Her salt-and-pepper hair was elegantly coiffed, and she wore a simple blue pantsuit. “What do you think? The first samples with the Kathryn of Texas label.”

“Almost,” Dessie added. “The labels were supposed to come by UPS, but they’re late.”

Kate sighed over the sky blue and cream combinations, a heavy silver-toned concho belt linking the bottom to its blouson top. “Imagine,” she shook her head, astonished. “That’s all mine.”

“Well, not quite,” Sandy said slowly. “Kate, there are a couple of changes in the darts, because of production time. I hope you don’t mind,” she added, and she showed Kate the minor alterations.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Kate said, and meant it. “Mr. Rogers had said already that there might have to be a change here and there. We learned compromise in design school,” she grinned. “I don’t do these in concrete.”

“Thank God, she’s not going to be a prima donna,” Sandy gushed, dancing Dessie around the room. She glanced at Kate with a rueful smile. “Our last new designer lasted one week. She’d designed us a skirt with eight set-in pockets and sixteen belt loops. We had to alter the design, and we even tried to compromise because it would have cost more to make it than we could have sold it for. Our little designer raised the roof, threatened to sue us individually and collectively, and in her fury overturned a buggy of scraps on one of the quality control ladies.” She shook her head. “I don’t guess you heard about it out on the floor?”

Kate pursed her lips. “Actually, we all knew about it, and I decided then and there that if I ever sold a design I’d bite off my tongue before I’d argue about production changes. Am I still loved?”

Sandy hugged her warmly. “Of course you are! Now. How are you coming with that new slant bodice on your blouson...?”

Kate pulled out her sketchbook and laid it on the desk to show her boss. But while she was talking, her eyes kept darting to the outfit on the mannequin. Kathryn of Texas. Now she had a label. And she was going to make it one to be proud of.

Mary had lunch with her in the canteen, and spent most of the half hour groaning over the repairs they had to get through. Some of the cuts were farmed out to a division of the company in the Caribbean, where labor was less expensive. But when they came back in, some of them didn’t make it through quality control and had to be taken through the sewing line again.

“Those repairs are never going to stop,” Mary sighed as she finished her ham sandwich and washed it down with a swallow of canteen coffee in a Styrofoam cup. She rested her tired arms on the polished yellow finish of the long table they were sharing with a few other scattered sewing hands. “I think my body is growing to my machine.”

“God forbid,” Kate laughed. “There, there, I’ll get rich and support you.”

“Promises, promises.” Mary stretched, looking older than ever in the orange slacks and patterned matching top she’d made. Orange really wasn’t her mother’s color, but Kate hadn’t been able to talk her out of the fabric she’d made them from.

“You’d look good in white,” Kate told her mother.

“Sure. Covered with lint in camouflage and khaki shades and smeared with machine oil,” her mother agreed dryly. “Any other helpful comments you care to make?”

“Why don’t you make eyes at that new mechanic,” came the quick comment. “He’s about your age and dashing....”

“And the only thing he’s ever said to me was, ‘Hand me my screwdriver.’ No, thanks. He’s got a wart on his nose.”

“Maybe he was a frog and somebody kissed him,” Kate suggested.

Mary gave her a hard glare. “I have to work over today,” she said. “Do you want to wait for me or get a ride home?”

“I want to wait until the truck comes in from Dallas and see if it’s got my buttons and lace,” Kate told her. “They’re a day late already. I need to check them against the fabric and make sure they look the way I want them to.”

“You picky designers,” Mary chided as she got up. “You’ll be standing in a retail store, complaining about the way they stick on the price tags.”

“Oh, to design clothes so fancy that they wouldn’t have price tags,” Kate sighed.

Mary just grimaced and left her there. Kate sipped her coffee, her eyes going blankly out the window at the blue skies. She wondered if Jason was still out with the men, and decided that probably he was. Roundup seemed to go on forever. Tempers got worse as it went along and she didn’t imagine that she was going to see him for several days. That was vaguely worrying, because he’d be going to Montana next week, and it was already Thursday. Her mind went back to the way he’d kissed her. She smiled, going off into a daydream where she was a famous designer and Jason was her husband, and he was accompanying her to a grand show in New York during one of the market weeks. She’d glitter, and he’d be so proud of her. She’d be hailed on the street in her famous finery, and Jason would accompany her to parties....

She blinked. Jason wouldn’t be at any of those parties for the simple reason that he didn’t approve of her designing aspirations. He still thought a woman belonged in the bedroom or the kitchen, and he wasn’t likely to change overnight.

A part of her mind kept asking why she was mooning over a man who wouldn’t want her the way she wanted to be, and who would expect his wife to stay home, have babies, and help entertain his business guests. She couldn’t face those limits, so she ignored them. At the moment, all she could think about was the sweet savagery of his mouth and the unexpected pleasure of loving him. If the lovely dream only lasted for a few days, until she came to her senses, she was going to enjoy it while it did. He was right. It was better to live for the moment rather than worry about the future. Because for her and Jason there was no future.

She and Mary were getting ready to leave the house the next morning when Jason unexpectedly showed up at the back door with a basket of beans.

“Sheila sent them,” he told Mary, putting them on the counter in their wicker container. “She thought the two of you might like some fresh ones, and she tucked in a bag of frozen ham hocks to cook them with.”

“The darling,” Mary enthused. “Thank her for us. Would you like a biscuit and some coffee?”

“I’d like that, thanks.” He grinned as he glanced toward the doorway where Kate suddenly appeared, breathlessly plaiting her hair with a blue ribbon that complemented her denim skirt and blue dotted Swiss short-sleeved blouse.

“Oh!” Kate exclaimed, stopping short. Her hands froze in midair for a second and her face colored. He was in working gear, jeans and a chambray shirt carelessly unbuttoned at the throat, with a blue bandanna tied at his neck and that battered black Stetson on his head. His spurs jingled on boots too worn to be decent. But he looked very masculine and unbearably handsome to Kate’s adoring eyes. She smiled at him unexpectedly, and he held her eyes until she had to drag them away.

“I’ll get the coffee,” Mary murmured, turning away to get another cup with a knowing smile.

Kate finished tying her braid and sat down at the table where biscuits sat on one platter and bacon and sausage on another. They hadn’t bothered with eggs because neither of them cared for them.

“If you want an egg, I’ll cook you one,” Kate offered as Jason sat down beside her.

“No, thanks, honey, I’ve had breakfast once already, about five this morning.” His leg brushed hers and he smiled at her nervous reaction. “I like the ribbon.”

“Thank you.” She glanced into his dark eyes and shivers of sensation ran through her body. It was exciting to look at him, all of a sudden. She felt the magic like electricity as he searched her soft eyes.

“How’s roundup going?” Mary asked when she came back with the coffee and broke the spell.

“Oh, not so bad,” Jason told her. He took a biscuit and filled it with bacon that was crisp and browned just right. “We had one busted leg, two broken ribs, a crushed foot, and fifteen stitches in a leg. Other than that, I guess it’s going fine.”

Kate grimaced. “Well, at least it wasn’t your fifteen stiches,” she said. She creamed her coffee and offered him the faded little cream pitcher that once had boasted a patch of strawberries on one side. Now there was little more than a faded leaf and a few unrecognizable dots of red where it had been.

Jason’s lean, dark hand took it from hers and didn’t let go for several seconds. Kate could hardly breathe. His touch ignited her like fire. She looked at his somber face, feeling the hunger in him like a living thing because it was echoed in her own body.

She remembered how hungrily they’d kissed two nights ago, and her eyes fell to his hard mouth with frank delight. He saw it, and his lips parted. She looked up again, catching the same need in his dark, narrowing eyes.

Neither of them moved. Life seemed to be locked in slow motion for a space of seconds while their eyes said things their mouths couldn’t. Jason abruptly poured cream in his coffee and asked Mary about selling off a few head of the cattle he oversaw for her on the boundary of his own property.

“Go ahead and do what you think best, Jason,” Mary said without argument. “You know I’ve no head for business. If we sell now, will we get enough to make the next mortgage payment?”

“With some to spare,” he told her. “The market’s up just temporarily. This is a good time to get rid of the culls.”

“Are you selling some of yours?” Kate asked, just to show him that she wasn’t too tongue-tied to talk.

“I’ve got a few dry cows and some open ones I’m going to sell off,” he agreed.

“Pitiful,” Kate murmured over her biscuit. “Getting rid of a poor little cow because she isn’t expecting.”

“I can’t afford to keep poor little cows who aren’t expecting,” he returned with a faint smile. “In a cow-calf operation, calves pay the bills. If mama doesn’t earn her keep, off she goes into somebody’s frying pan.”

“He’s a cannibal,” Kate told Mary with a straight face.

“He’s a businessman,” Mary argued.

“Same difference,” Kate returned, grinning impishly at Jason.

He laughed, the sound deep and pleasant in the silence of the cheerful little kitchen. “It takes a cannibal to make money these days,” he admitted. He ate his biscuit and sipped his black coffee. “Well, Gene’s trying to convince me to back him in an art show. He needs up-front money for supplies. Damn, those paints are expensive!”

“I know,” Kate said gently. “But he’s good, Jason. He’s really good.”

He drained the thick white mug, one of the new ones Kate had bought, and put it down on the red-checkered oilcloth that adorned the table. “Kate, there are a lot of good artists in the world. But it takes a great one to make any money. And most of them,” he added somberly, “die poor. He’s got Cherry to support, and someday there’ll be children. He needs to think about them, not about his own pipe dreams. Dreams won’t put bread on the table, or clothe children. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to support him into old age. He’s going to have to start pulling his weight around the Spur.”

Kate wanted to argue, but Jason looked dug-in, and she didn’t want to start something else. It was Gene’s problem, after all, not hers. If he wanted to live his own life, he was going to have to fight Jason himself. Kate didn’t envy him that challenge, either. Jason was a formidable enemy.

“How’s your arm?” Kate asked.

He flexed it, rippling the muscle under the nice fit of the fabric. “Fine,” he said. “I haven’t had a problem with it.” He glared at her. “And I would have healed just fine without being dragged to the doctor.”

“I do realize that, Jason,” Kate said sincerely. “And I promise the next time Gabe begs me to look at your torn and bleeding body, I’ll put a sack over my head and hold my ears shut.”

He pursed his lips, and his dark eyes twinkled. “Would you, really?” he asked. His voice had a new softness when he spoke, his face was more relaxed than Kate had ever seen it.

She sighed, studying him. “I guess not, since you’re the only friend I’ve got.”

“I’ll put the dishes in the sink,” Mary murmured, glancing delightedly from one to the other of them. As she puttered around the kitchen, Kate got to her feet. Kate hadn’t expected Jason to stand up at the same time. She overbalanced and he caught her waist to steady her.

Standing so close to him, her nerves were unsettled, and it showed. She had to force her breath in and out, but she couldn’t stop the rustle of it through her lips.

He stared at her mouth until she thought she’d go crazy if he didn’t bend those few inches and take it. She swallowed, her tongue going unsteadily to her dry lips, and he made a sound under his breath and almost pushed her away.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” he said curtly. “I left calves scattered all over hell and gone.”

“Thanks again for the beans,” Mary said. She glanced at him thoughtfully. “Would you like to come over for supper and sample them?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Who’s cooking, you or Kate?”

Mary glared at him. “Why, you horrible man, and I was going to bake you a cake, too.”

He tweaked Mary’s chin and bent to kiss her cheek. “You’re a great cook. I apologize.”

“Kate’s cooking, anyway,” Mary muttered. She shook her head, laughing. “You horrible man,” she said again and started toward the hall. “I’ll get our purses, Kate, you can lock the back door after Jason.”

“Yes, Mama,” Kate agreed.

The silence in the room when she left it was deafening. Jason stared at her with all the barriers down. There was no teasing banter now to disguise the desire in his hard face.

He moved toward her, tucking a hand under her soft chin to lift it. “Do you want my mouth as much as I want yours?” he asked under his breath.

Her lips parted. “Oh, yes...!” she moaned.

He bent and roughly opened her lips with his, teasing them in a silence that vibrated with tension. He lifted his mouth and brushed it lazily back and forth across hers, feeling the trembling start.

He bit her lower lip softly. “Do that to me.”

She did, and both his lean hands came up to frame her face, to hold it steady while his dark eyes blazed into hers for an instant.

“Now let’s stop playing and do it for real,” he whispered gruffly, and bent with fierce purpose in his mouth.

Her heart was going crazy when she felt that tentative searching, but before she had time to react to it, her mother’s footsteps echoed toward the kitchen door.

“Oh, damn,” Kate whimpered under her breath. Jason stood erect on legs that felt weak and looked down at her with black frustration in a face like stone.

“I wanted it, too,” he said quietly. “Tonight, I’ll give you that kiss, Kate. I’ll give it to you with interest...!”

Mary walked in with Kate’s purse. “About six suit you, Jason?” she asked the taciturn man who was already at the back door, with his lean hand on the doorknob.

“Six suits me fine,” he said, and grinned at them.

“See you then,” Kate said lightly.

Neither of them fooled Mary, who saw beneath the teasing tones to the intense tension she’d interrupted. “Don’t fall off your horse,” she told Jason.

“Hold your breath,” he returned. “My God, a man can’t walk in the door around here without getting insulted.”

“We only insult people we like,” Kate assured him. Her eyes traced his face lovingly. She was still shaking with hunger for the kiss she’d wanted so much.

“Good thing I’m not on the bad side of you, then,” he chuckled. He winked at them and went out, leaving Kate to lock it behind him.

“Jason’s a character,” Mary laughed, shaking her head.

“He’s a nice man,” Kate agreed without looking at her mother, and she smiled. “Shall we go?”

Nice, Mary thought as they left the house, was a word no sane woman would use when referring to Jason Donavan. She knew suddenly, and with almost tangible delight, that something was going on between Jason and Kate. Now if she could just help things along, she might not have to worry about Kate’s future after all.

Kate, blissfully unaware of her mother’s plotting, was thinking dreamily of the evening ahead, already tasting Jason’s mouth on her own. She’d put the future out of her mind altogether. All she wanted now was as much of Jason’s company as she could get, and whatever feeling there was in him for her. She was in love with him, and because of that, she decided, she’d give him whatever he asked of her. Even if that meant eventually getting out of his life altogether.