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Authors: Diana Palmer
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won’t get it. But she’ll have you. Drawn and quartered and bled to death, she’ll have you.”
She turned and left the room. The closed expression on Logan’s broad, dark face had told her that he wasn’t buying a word of it. You simply couldn’t talk to a stone wall.
Emmett caught up with her outside a few minutes later. He was smoking a cigarette and looking all around.
“It looks safe enough right here,” he said, shoving his free hand into his jeans pocket. Under the wide brim of his hat, he was smiling as he joined her in the middle of the path that led into the distant pastures. The cool, dull brown horizon stretched out forever, a reminder that winter was almost here. “I have to pick times and places to smoke,” he added ruefully. “Those kids have radar and smoke detectors and water guns in every shape and size. I guess they’re right. I really should quit.” “It doesn’t do your lungs much good, I suppose,” she said.
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“Mine or anyone else’s. I don’t smoke in closed rooms. It’s too dangerous for bystanders.” He flicked off an ash. “Funny, you know, the Indians used tobacco for hundreds of years, but they used it mostly for ceremonial purposes. Same thing with peyote. Mostly those substances weren’t abused because they considered it sacrilege. Our culture abuses damned near everything.”
“Especially natural resources.” She turned and looked up at him. He seemed different when he wasn’t pretending to be something he really wasn’t. He looked somber and quiet and very, very masculine. If it hadn’t been for the way she felt about Logan, she could have found herself falling all over this man.
“Did I put my nose on upside down again?” he asked with a cynically cocked eyebrow.
She laughed. “No. I was just thinking that you’re many-faceted. I don’t think I’ve seen the real you yet.”
He shrugged. “Most people are pretty complex.” He studied her face for a long moment. “You’re without guile, aren’t you? You have an honest, open face. I’ll bet you return quarters you find on restaurant floors and obey parking signs and never tell lies.” “I try not to,” she corrected. “I was raised not to cheat.”
Her face closed up as she got the words out, and he saw her reaction. “You tense when you get close to the subject of your parents.” “Do I? How big is this ranch?”
He hesitated, but only for a minute. He smiled and proceeded to describe the size and operation of the ranch for her, until a perplexed and irritated Logan came out to join them. He’d made all the necessary telephone calls, and he was still seething at Betsy’s spitting fury because he hadn’t phoned her sooner. He didn’t like aggressive, snarling women. He respected intelligence, but Betsy had displayed cold, icy self-interest. Even through his physical infatuation for the woman, he recognized that.
“Do you know where the children are?” Kit asked suddenly. “Should I go look for them?”
“You’ll find them in the barn with the new kittens,” Emmett said. “That’s where they usually are these days. Pretty little things, all different colors and all with long fur and blue eyes. Old Walt
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wanted to get rid of them, but we’ve got mice in the barn, so I figured they might as well stay.”
He had a warmth about him that probably drew women like flies Kit thought. She’d never had warmth from Logan, not even the two or three times she’d had flu or a virus since she’d worked for him It was never “poor Kit.” Rather, it was “when the hell are you coming back?”
“I’ll go with you to look for them,” Logan said, smoothly inter-posing himself between Kit and Emmett. “Sorry you’re too busy to come with us,” he said with a smile at his cousin. “But I know how it is.”
“Not yet, you don’t,” Emmett said enigmatically, with a gleam in his eyes. “But you’ll find out. How
She turned and left the room. The closed expression on Logan’s broad, dark face had told her that he wasn’t buying a word of it. You simply couldn’t talk to a stone wall.
Emmett caught up with her outside a few minutes later. He was smoking a cigarette and looking all around.
“It looks safe enough right here,” he said, shoving his free hand into his jeans pocket. Under the wide brim of his hat, he was smiling as he joined her in the middle of the path that led into the distant pastures. The cool, dull brown horizon stretched out forever, a reminder that winter was almost here. “I have to pick times and places to smoke,” he added ruefully. “Those kids have radar and smoke detectors and water guns in every shape and size. I guess they’re right. I really should quit.” “It doesn’t do your lungs much good, I suppose,” she said.
The Case of the Missing Secretary349
“Mine or anyone else’s. I don’t smoke in closed rooms. It’s too dangerous for bystanders.” He flicked off an ash. “Funny, you know, the Indians used tobacco for hundreds of years, but they used it mostly for ceremonial purposes. Same thing with peyote. Mostly those substances weren’t abused because they considered it sacrilege. Our culture abuses damned near everything.”
“Especially natural resources.” She turned and looked up at him. He seemed different when he wasn’t pretending to be something he really wasn’t. He looked somber and quiet and very, very masculine. If it hadn’t been for the way she felt about Logan, she could have found herself falling all over this man.
“Did I put my nose on upside down again?” he asked with a cynically cocked eyebrow.
She laughed. “No. I was just thinking that you’re many-faceted. I don’t think I’ve seen the real you yet.”
He shrugged. “Most people are pretty complex.” He studied her face for a long moment. “You’re without guile, aren’t you? You have an honest, open face. I’ll bet you return quarters you find on restaurant floors and obey parking signs and never tell lies.” “I try not to,” she corrected. “I was raised not to cheat.”
Her face closed up as she got the words out, and he saw her reaction. “You tense when you get close to the subject of your parents.” “Do I? How big is this ranch?”
He hesitated, but only for a minute. He smiled and proceeded to describe the size and operation of the ranch for her, until a perplexed and irritated Logan came out to join them. He’d made all the necessary telephone calls, and he was still seething at Betsy’s spitting fury because he hadn’t phoned her sooner. He didn’t like aggressive, snarling women. He respected intelligence, but Betsy had displayed cold, icy self-interest. Even through his physical infatuation for the woman, he recognized that.
“Do you know where the children are?” Kit asked suddenly. “Should I go look for them?”
“You’ll find them in the barn with the new kittens,” Emmett said. “That’s where they usually are these days. Pretty little things, all different colors and all with long fur and blue eyes. Old Walt
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Diana Palmer
wanted to get rid of them, but we’ve got mice in the barn, so I figured they might as well stay.”
He had a warmth about him that probably drew women like flies Kit thought. She’d never had warmth from Logan, not even the two or three times she’d had flu or a virus since she’d worked for him It was never “poor Kit.” Rather, it was “when the hell are you coming back?”
“I’ll go with you to look for them,” Logan said, smoothly inter-posing himself between Kit and Emmett. “Sorry you’re too busy to come with us,” he said with a smile at his cousin. “But I know how it is.”
“Not yet, you don’t,” Emmett said enigmatically, with a gleam in his eyes. “But you’ll find out. How
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