Read Online Thea Devine by Relentless Passion - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Relentless Passion
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counter his smug male assertion.
She stared after him, fuming, for at least five minutes. She didn’t know this Logan Ramsey, she thought. Or she had never been aware of him while he had been lurking there all along, masquerading as her friend and wanting the same thing that all men want.
That was a laugh. Perhaps the truth was that Maggie Colleran’s little devil had been lurking there all along, wanting the same thing that all
women
wanted.
Except, she didn’t want it—not another marriage, another man in her life to tell her what to do and when to do it. No, she could do without that all right. She had had enough of that with Frank. The truth was that Maggie Colleran wanted the same thing that men wanted. What was unpalatable was just how much, and just how easily she could be aroused to reach for it.
A.J. met her at the door. “Oh, Miz Maggie, Harold Danforth is here, checking his article and having a fit.”
She froze. “Send for Dennis; I can’t negotiate with him. He’ll deny he said any of it if I start arguing with him. But he can’t get around my lawyer.”
Here was the last thing she needed, but as she made her way to the back of the office, she saw that Danforth hadindeed settled in at her worktable and was furiously scribbling away.
She sighed and said, “Harold.”
He looked up, his square pudgy face compressed into one round frown. “Oh, there you are, Maggie. This is all wrong. All wrong.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back against her desk. “I believe you and Dennis Coutts agreed on the terms and the wording. And I agreed to print whatever you wrote. I haven’t reneged on
my
part of the agreement, Harold. But I see you are doing a fair job of pulling back on yours.”
“No, no. Just a clarification. You didn’t change anything?” he demanded suspiciously.
“You had a written copy to compare, Harold.
I
don’t go back on my word. That’s not…” she died a little as she said it, “how Frank operated this newspaper. Or me.”
She stared him down, thinking he looked like nothing so much as a stuffed pig with his starched collar and bulging jowls. His suit was a size too tight, but he never would admit that he carried extra weight. The word was; he still rode out with his men, pretending to be the cowboy he never was. All he was, she thought, was lucky. He had bought some land in the right place and now it was the right time to sell up, take the money and run.
“All right, Harold,” she said briskly. “Take your problems, if they are real, to Dennis. He will contact me if I need to do anything. I trust,” she added ominously, “that I won’t. What you don’t have is the right to come in here and take over my office whenever you please. Excuse me now.”
Reluctantly he gave over her chair, and in a huff, snatched up the paper on which he had been writing and made for the door. “This isn’t the end of it, Maggie Colleran. Frank would have sold up, you know. He would have come in with the rest of us and allowed DenverNorth up through the basin. They’re threatening to scale down the payments now because they have to lay more track and grade down the land. You’ll be sorry, Maggie….” His words drifted back from the door, and she sank into her chair and put her head in her hands.
He was so right, she thought. It would be far easier to sell or even lease a right of way than to hold out the way she was. She would have money to invest in the paper or to buy herself a new dress or to do any of a hundred other things … including sending her mother-in-law to perdition. But why, first and foremost, a new dress?
She didn’t like the way her thoughts were heading. She didn’t like anything about this day so far. She felt as though five different people had invaded her privacy and she wanted none of them there. She hated herself for invoking Frank’s name. Maybe she was distressed the most about that. It was too easy, and she was too prone to do it. And
She stared after him, fuming, for at least five minutes. She didn’t know this Logan Ramsey, she thought. Or she had never been aware of him while he had been lurking there all along, masquerading as her friend and wanting the same thing that all men want.
That was a laugh. Perhaps the truth was that Maggie Colleran’s little devil had been lurking there all along, wanting the same thing that all
women
wanted.
Except, she didn’t want it—not another marriage, another man in her life to tell her what to do and when to do it. No, she could do without that all right. She had had enough of that with Frank. The truth was that Maggie Colleran wanted the same thing that men wanted. What was unpalatable was just how much, and just how easily she could be aroused to reach for it.
A.J. met her at the door. “Oh, Miz Maggie, Harold Danforth is here, checking his article and having a fit.”
She froze. “Send for Dennis; I can’t negotiate with him. He’ll deny he said any of it if I start arguing with him. But he can’t get around my lawyer.”
Here was the last thing she needed, but as she made her way to the back of the office, she saw that Danforth hadindeed settled in at her worktable and was furiously scribbling away.
She sighed and said, “Harold.”
He looked up, his square pudgy face compressed into one round frown. “Oh, there you are, Maggie. This is all wrong. All wrong.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back against her desk. “I believe you and Dennis Coutts agreed on the terms and the wording. And I agreed to print whatever you wrote. I haven’t reneged on
my
part of the agreement, Harold. But I see you are doing a fair job of pulling back on yours.”
“No, no. Just a clarification. You didn’t change anything?” he demanded suspiciously.
“You had a written copy to compare, Harold.
I
don’t go back on my word. That’s not…” she died a little as she said it, “how Frank operated this newspaper. Or me.”
She stared him down, thinking he looked like nothing so much as a stuffed pig with his starched collar and bulging jowls. His suit was a size too tight, but he never would admit that he carried extra weight. The word was; he still rode out with his men, pretending to be the cowboy he never was. All he was, she thought, was lucky. He had bought some land in the right place and now it was the right time to sell up, take the money and run.
“All right, Harold,” she said briskly. “Take your problems, if they are real, to Dennis. He will contact me if I need to do anything. I trust,” she added ominously, “that I won’t. What you don’t have is the right to come in here and take over my office whenever you please. Excuse me now.”
Reluctantly he gave over her chair, and in a huff, snatched up the paper on which he had been writing and made for the door. “This isn’t the end of it, Maggie Colleran. Frank would have sold up, you know. He would have come in with the rest of us and allowed DenverNorth up through the basin. They’re threatening to scale down the payments now because they have to lay more track and grade down the land. You’ll be sorry, Maggie….” His words drifted back from the door, and she sank into her chair and put her head in her hands.
He was so right, she thought. It would be far easier to sell or even lease a right of way than to hold out the way she was. She would have money to invest in the paper or to buy herself a new dress or to do any of a hundred other things … including sending her mother-in-law to perdition. But why, first and foremost, a new dress?
She didn’t like the way her thoughts were heading. She didn’t like anything about this day so far. She felt as though five different people had invaded her privacy and she wanted none of them there. She hated herself for invoking Frank’s name. Maybe she was distressed the most about that. It was too easy, and she was too prone to do it. And
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