Читать книгу To Wear His Ring: Circle of Gold / Trophy Wives / Dakota Bride - Wendy Warren - Страница 9

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 Webbased 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 book, 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.

He looked down into her wide eyes. “You’re such a child sometimes,” he said softly. “You don’t see ugliness, do you? You go through life looking for rainbows instead of rain.”

“Habit,” she murmured, fascinated by the pale blue lights in his eyes.

“It’s a rather nice habit,” he replied. The look lasted just a few seconds too long to be polite, and Kasie felt her heart begin to race. But then, the line shifted and diverted him. He moved closer to the ticket-taker, keeping the girls ahead carefully in sight while his arm drew Kasie along with him.

She liked the protectiveness of that muscular arm. He didn’t look like a body-builder, all his movements were lithe and graceful. But he worked at physical labor from dawn until dusk most days. She’d seen him throw calves that had to be doctored. She’d seen him throw bulls, too. He was strong. Involuntarily she relaxed against him. It was delicious, the feeling of security it gave her to be close to him, to the warm strength of him.

The soft movement caught him off guard and sent a jolt of sensation through him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked down at her with curious, turbulent eyes that she didn’t see. She was smiling and waving at the girls, who were darting off down into the theater with the little girl and her mother.

“They like you,” he said.

“I like them.”

He handed their tickets to the uniformed girl, who smiled as she handed back the stubs and pointed the way to the theater that was showing the cartoon movie.

Gil caught Kasie’s hand in his and drew her lazily along with him through the crowd of children and parents until they reached the theater. But instead of going down to the front, he drew Kasie to an isolated double-seat in the very back row and sat down beside her. His arm went over the back of the chair as the theater darkened and the previews began showing.

Kasie was electrified by the shift in their relationship. She felt his lean fingers on her shoulder, bringing her closer, and his cheek rested against her temple. She hadn’t ever been to a movie with a man. There had been a blind double date once, and the boy sat on his own side of the seat and looked nervous until they got home again. This was worlds away from that experience.

“Comfortable?” he asked at her ear, and his voice was like velvet.

“Yes,” she said unsteadily.

His chest rose and fell and he found himself paying a lot more attention to the feel of Kasie’s soft hair against his skin than the movie. She smelled of spring roses. Her hair was soft, and had a faint herbal scent of its own. Twenty-two. She was twenty-two. He was thirty-two, and she’d already said that he was too old for her.

He scowled as he thought about that difference. She needed someone as young as she was, with that same vulnerable, kind, generous spirit. He had two little girls and a high-pressure business that gave him little free time. He was still grieving, in a way, for Darlene, whom he’d loved since grammar school. But there was something about Kasie that made him hungry. It wasn’t desire, although he was aware of heady sensations when she was close to him. No, it was the sort of hunger a man got when he was standing outside in the snow with a wet coat and soaked jeans, looking through the window at a warm, glowing fireplace. He couldn’t really explain the feelings. They made him uneasy.

He noticed that she was still a little stiff. He touched a curl at her ear. “Hey,” he whispered.

She turned her head and looked up at him in the semidarkness.

“I’m not hitting on you,” he whispered into her ear. “Okay?”

She relaxed. “Okay.”

The obvious relief in her voice made him feel guilty and offended. He moved his arm back to the chair and forced himself to watch the movie. He had to remember that Kasie worked for him. It wasn’t fair to use her to ward off other women. But…was it really that?

The dinosaur movie was really well-done, Kasie thought as she became involved in the storyline and the wonder of creatures that looked really alive up there on the screen. It was a bittersweet sort of cartoon, though, and she was sorry for the little girls. Because when it was over, Bess and Jenny came to them crying about the dinosaurs that had died in the film.

“Oh, sweetheart, it was only a movie,” Kasie said at once, and bent to pick up Bess, hugging her close. “Just a movie. Okay?”

“But it was so sad, Kasie,” cried the little girl. “Why do things have to die?”

“I don’t know, baby,” she said softly, and her eyes closed for an instant on a wave of remembered pain. She’d lost so many people she loved.

Gil had Jenny up in his arms, and they walked out of the theater carrying the children. Behind them, other mothers were trying to explain about extinction.

“There, there, baby,” he cooed at Jenny and kissed her wet eyes. “It was only make-believe. Dinosaurs don’t really talk, you know, and they had brains the size of peas.” He shifted her and smiled. “Hey, remember what I told you about chickens, about how they’ll walk right up to a rattlesnake and let it strike them? Well, dinosaurs didn’t even have brains that big.”

“They didn’t?” Bess asked from her secure hold on Kasie.

“They didn’t,” Gil said. “If a meteor had struck them, they’d be standing right in its path waiting for it. And they wouldn’t be discussing it, either.”

Kasie laughed as she looked at Gil, delighted at the way he handled the sticky situation. He was, she thought, a marvelous parent.

“Can we get some ice cream on the way home?” Bess asked then, wiping her tears.

“You bet. We’ll stop by the yogurt place.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Bess cried.

“You’re the nicest daddy,” Jenny murmured against his throat.

“You really are, you know,” Kasie agreed as they strapped the little girls into the back seat.

His eyes met hers across the children. “I’m a veteran daddy,” he told her dryly.

“Is that what it is?” Kasie chuckled.

“You get better with practice, or so they tell me. Do you like frozen yogurt? I get them that instead of ice cream. It’s healthy stuff.”

“I like it, too,” Kasie said as she got into the front seat beside him.

“We’ll get some to take home for Mrs. Charters and Miss Parsons,” he added, “so that we don’t get blamed for ruining their appetites for supper.”

“Now that’s superior thinking,” Kasie had to admit.

He started the engine and eased them out of the crowded parking lot.

The yogurt shop was a few miles from home. They stopped and got the treat in carryout cups, because Gil was expecting a phone call from a buyer out of state.

“I don’t like to work on Sundays,” he remarked as they drove home. “But sometimes it’s unavoidable.”

“Do you ever take the girls to church?”

He hesitated. “Well…no.”

She was watching him with those big, soft gray eyes, in which there wasn’t condemnation or censure. It was almost as if she knew that his faith had suffered since the death of his wife. No, for longer than that. It had suffered since childhood, when his parents had…

“I haven’t gone for several months, myself,” Kasie remarked quietly. She twisted her purse slowly in her hands. “If I…start back, I could take them with me, if you didn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

Her eyes softened and she smiled at him.

He tore his gaze away from that warm affection and forced it back to the road. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. She really was getting to him. He wished he knew some way to head off trouble. He found her far too attractive, and she continued to make her lack of receptiveness known. He didn’t want to do something stupid and send her looking for another job.

“I enjoyed today,” he said after a minute. “But you remember that Miss Parsons is supposed to be responsible for the girls,” he added with a stern glance. “You have enough to do keeping John’s paperwork current. Understand?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll try very hard to stop interfering,” she promised.

“Good. Pauline is out of town for the next week, but she’ll be home in time for the pool party we’re giving next Saturday. She’ll be in the office the following Monday morning. You can give her another computer lesson.”

She grimaced. “She doesn’t like me.”

“I know. Don’t let it worry you. She’s efficient.”

She wasn’t, but apparently she’d managed to conceal it from Gil. Kasie wondered how he’d managed not to notice the work Pauline didn’t do.

“Did John have a secretary before me?” she asked suddenly.

“He did, and she was a terrific one, too. But she quit with only a week’s notice.”

“Did she say why?” she fished with apparent unconcern.

“Something about being worked to death. John didn’t buy it. She didn’t have that much to do.”

She did, if she was doing John’s work and having Gil’s pawned off on her as well. Kasie’s eyes narrowed. Well, she wasn’t going to get away with it now. If Pauline started expecting Kasie to do her job for her, she was in for a surprise.

“Funny,” Gil murmured as he turned onto the black shale ranch road that led to the Double C. “Pauline said she couldn’t use the computer, but she always had my herd records printed out. Even if they weren’t updated properly.”

Kasie didn’t say a word. Surely he’d work it out by himself one day. She glanced back at the girls, who were still contentedly eating frozen yogurt out of little cups. They were so pretty and sweet. Her heart ached just looking at them. Sandy had been just Bess’s age…

She bit down hard on her lip. She mustn’t cry. Tears were no help at all. She had to look ahead, not backward.

Gil pulled up in front of the house and helped Kasie get the girls out.

“Thanks for the movie,” Kasie told him, feeling shy now.

“My pleasure,” he said carelessly. “Come on, girls, let’s get you settled with Miss Parsons. Daddy’s got to play rancher for a while.”

“Can’t we play, too?” Bess asked, clinging to his hand.

“Sure,” he said. “Just as soon as you can compare birth weight ratios and compute projected weaning weight.”

Bess made a face. “Oh, Daddy!”

“I’ll make a rancher out of you one day, young lady,” he said with a grin.

“Billy’s dad said he was sure glad he had a son instead of girls. Daddy, do you ever wish me and Jenny was boys?” she asked.

He stopped, dropped to one knee and hugged the child close. “Daddy loves little girls,” he said softly. “And he wouldn’t trade you and Jenny for all the boys in the world. You tell Billy I said that.”

Bess chuckled. “I will!” She kissed his cheek with a big smack. “I love you, Daddy!”

“I love you, too, little chick.”

Jenny, jealous, had to have a hug, too, and they ended up each clinging to a strong, lean hand as they went into the house.

Kasie watched them, feeling more lost and alone than she had in months. She ached to be part of a family again. Watching Gil with the girls only emphasized what she’d lost.

She went up onto the porch and up the staircase slowly, her hand smoothing over the silky wood of the banister as she tried once again to come to grips with her loss.

She was curled up in her easy chair watching an old movie on television when there was a soft knock at the door just before it opened. Bess and Jenny sneaked in wearing their gowns and bathrobes and slippers, peering cautiously down the hall before they closed the door.

“Hello,” Kasie said with a smile, opening her arms as they clambered up into the big chair with her and cuddled close. “You smell nice.”

“We had baths,” Bess said. “Miss Parsons said we was covered with chocolate sauce.” She giggled. “We splashed her.”

“You bad babies,” she chided softly and kissed little cheeks.

“Could you tell us a story?” they asked.

“Sure. What would you like to hear?”

“The one with the bears.”

“Okay.” She started the story, speaking in all the different parts, while they snuggled close and listened with attention.

Just to see if they were really listening, she added, “And then the wolf huffed and puffed…”

“No, Kasie!” Bess interrupted. “That’s the pig story!”

“Is it?” she exclaimed. “All right, then. Well, the bears came home…”

“Huffing and puffing?” came a deep, amused query from the doorway. The little girls glanced at him, looking guilty and worried. “Miss Parsons is looking for you two fugitives,” he drawled. “If I were you, I’d get into my beds real fast. She’s glowering.”

“Goodness! We got to go, Kasie!” Bess said, and she and Jenny scrambled to their feet and ran past their father down the hall, calling good-nights as they went.

Gil studied Kasie from the doorway. She was wearing her own white gown, with a matching cotton robe this time, and her long hair waved around her shoulders. She looked very young.

“You weren’t reading from a book. What did you do, memorize the story?” he asked curiously.

“I guess so,” she confided, smiling. “I’ve told it so many times, I suppose I do have it down pretty well.”

“Who did you tell it to?” he asked reasonably.

The smile never faded, but she withdrew behind it. “A little girl who stayed with us sometimes,” she replied.

“I see.”

“They came in and asked for a story,” she explained. “I hated telling them to go away…”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“You did,” she reminded him worriedly. “I know that Miss Parsons looks after them. I’m not trying to interfere.”

“I know that. But it’s making things hard for her when they come to you instead,” he said firmly.

She grimaced. “I can’t hurt their feelings.”

“I’ll speak to them.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “I’ll speak to them nicely,” he added. “I won’t make an issue of it.”

She hesitated. “Okay.”

“You have your own duties,” he continued. “It isn’t fair to let you take on two jobs, no matter how you feel about it. I don’t pay Miss Parsons to sit and read tax manuals.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding,” she said, sitting up straight. “She reads tax manuals? What for? Did you ask her?”

“I did. She says she reads them for pleasure,” he said. “Apparently she didn’t really want to retire from the accounting business, but she was faced with a clerical position or retirement,” he added with a droll smile.

“Oh, dear.”

He pushed away from the door facing. “Don’t stay up too late. John needs to get an early start. He’ll be away for a week showing Ebony King on the road.”

“He’s the new young bull,” Kasie recalled. “He eats corn out of my hand,” she added with a smile. “I never thought of bulls as being gentle.”

“They’re a real liability if they’re not,” he pointed out. “A bull that size could trample a man with very little difficulty.”

“I guess he could.” She stood up, with her hands in the pockets of the cotton robe. “I’m sorry about the girls coming in here.”

“Oh, hell, I don’t mind,” he said on a rough breath. “But it isn’t wise to let them get too attached to you, Kasie. You know it, and you know why.”

“They think you’re going to marry Pauline,” she blurted out, and then flushed at having been so personal with him.

“I haven’t thought a lot about remarrying,” he replied quietly. His eyes went over her with a suddenly intent appraisal. “But maybe I should. They’re getting to the age where they’re going to need a woman’s hand in their lives. I love them, but I can’t see things from a female point of view.”

“You’ve done marvelously with them so far,” she told him. “They’re polite and generous and loving.”

“So was their mother,” he remarked and for a few seconds, his face was lined with grief before he got it under control. “She loved them.”

“You said Bess was like her,” she reminded him.

“Yes,” he said at once. “She had long, wavy blond hair, just that same color. Jenny looks more like me. But Bess is more like me.”

She smiled. “I’ve noticed. She has a very hard head when she doesn’t want to do something.”

He shrugged. “Being stubborn isn’t always a bad thing. Persistence is the key to most successes in life.”

“Yes.” She searched his hard face, seeing the years of work and worry. It was a good, strong face, but it wasn’t handsome.

He was looking at her, too, and something stirred inside him, a need that he had to work to put down. He moved out the door. “Sleep well, Kasie,” he said curtly.

“You, too.”

He closed the door behind him, without looking at her again. She went back to her movie, but with much less enthusiasm.