[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Remember how you felt when Mom died?" she added.
He got a faraway look in his eyes. He sighed. "Yes, I can understand that. Your mama was my world.
We were childhood sweethearts and we lived together for twenty-two years. I could never find anyone
to measure up to her, so I never remarried. Maybe he feels like that."
"Maybe he does," she agreed.
He hugged her warmly and let her go. "Try not to brood.
It will all pass over. C.C. will blow off steam and come to terms with it, and you'll get it worked out. I
hope," he mused on a chuckle. "With times as hard as they are, I need to keep C.C.'s mind on business,
with all due respect to you."
"Ever thought of selling shares in the property?" she asked seriously.
"Yes, I have. Or taking on a partner," he added. He glanced at her. "You wouldn't mind if I did that?"
"Of course not. I don't want to lose it, either," she added gently. "You do whatever you have to."
He sighed, looking around the rustic, spacious kitchen.
"Then I think I'll do some discreet advertising. God knows, you can't go much longer without a new
wardrobe," he added with a mischievous wink.
"Forget about my wardrobe," she returned. "I don't care what I wear. Not anymore," she added,
turning back to see about the coffee.
"There's still Hale," he said, trying to comfort her as best he could. Her pain was tangible.
"Yes, there's still Brandon. He's taking me to a cattleman's association dinner next Wednesday night,"
she said. "He's a nice man, don't you think?"
He studied her quietly. "Sure he is. But you don't love him. Don't settle for crumbs, honey. Go for the
whole meal."
She laughed. "Old reprobate," she accused. "You do have a way with words."
"You have a way with food," he countered. "Will you hurry up and get some supper fixed? I'm
starving!"
"Okay." She went back to her pots and pans. From the kitchen window, she couid see the bunkhouse.
C.C. came out suddenly, dressed in, of ail things, a suit. He walked toward the house, big and lean and
elegant, and she washed the same dish four times while she waited for the step at the kitchen door. C.C.
never went to the front. He was too much like family. But right now he was her worst enemy. The suit
bothered her. Was he quitting? She felt her heart stop beating momentarily while she brooded.
Did he hate her that much. . . ?
He came in without knocking, letting in a chilly burst of wind. Penelope shuddered.
"It's getting colder out there," Ben said to ease the sudden tension.
"Colder than you know," C.C. said. He had a smoking cigarette in his hand. He lifted it to his thin lips,
glaring at Pepi. "I'll be away until early next week. I've got some personal business to see to.
Including," he added icily,
"getting an annulment underway, f want that marriage license, Penelope."
She wiped her hands on her apron, not looking at him.
"I'll get it," she said in a subdued tone, and ran for the staircase.
Her hands trembled as she took the piece of paper out of her bureau drawer and looked at it. C. C.
Tremayne. The name on the license said Connal Cade Tremayne. Connal.
She'd never called him anything but C.C. Until that night in Juarez, she didn't know what the initials
stood for. Now she said the name to herself and grieved for the dreams contained in that simple page
of words. If only things had been different, and they'd married because he loved her.
She took one long, last look at the license and carried it back downstairs.
C.C. was waiting for her at the foot of the staircase, alone.
His black eyes bit into her face, but she wouldn't meet them. She held out the paper in trembling, cold
fingers until he took it and then she jerked her hand back before it touched his. She could imagine that
he'd welcome her touch about as much as leprosy right now.
"I'm sorry," she said huskily, staring at her boot-dad feet.
"It was just "
"Just an outsize crush that got out of hand," he returned icily. "Well, it backfired, didn't it? You're
underhanded and scheming and probably a golddigger to boot."
Hot tears stung her eyes. She didn't answer him. She edged past him and went into the kitchen, barely
able to see the floor as she went back to the pots and pans on the stove.
He clenched the license in his lean hand, hating himself, hating her. He was taking the hide off her,
and he knew he was being unreasonable, but she'd tricked him into marriage when he was too drunk
to know what he was doing. He'd thought better of her. She had no right to land him in this
predicament. He'd taken Edie out, he'd. . . And he was married! What if he'd decided to take Edie to a
minister? He'd have been committing unwitting adultery and bigamy all at once!
"She's paying for it," Ben said quietly, joining the younger man in the hall. "Don't make it any worse
on her.
She didn't do it deliberately, regardless of what you think."
"She should have told me," he returned curtly.
"Yes," Ben agreed. "She should have. But she didn't know how. She didn't think it was legal. And to
give her credit, she did call an attorney about a quick, quiet annulment.
But she found out she'd need your signature for that."
"Did you know?" C.C. demanded.
Ben shook his head. "Not until today. I thought she was in some kind of trouble, but I had no idea what
it was."
C.C. stared at the paper in his hand with angry, troubled eyes. Marriage. A wife. He couldn't forget
Marsha, he couldn't forget her determination to go down that river with him. She'd always been [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
Remember how you felt when Mom died?" she added.
He got a faraway look in his eyes. He sighed. "Yes, I can understand that. Your mama was my world.
We were childhood sweethearts and we lived together for twenty-two years. I could never find anyone
to measure up to her, so I never remarried. Maybe he feels like that."
"Maybe he does," she agreed.
He hugged her warmly and let her go. "Try not to brood.
It will all pass over. C.C. will blow off steam and come to terms with it, and you'll get it worked out. I
hope," he mused on a chuckle. "With times as hard as they are, I need to keep C.C.'s mind on business,
with all due respect to you."
"Ever thought of selling shares in the property?" she asked seriously.
"Yes, I have. Or taking on a partner," he added. He glanced at her. "You wouldn't mind if I did that?"
"Of course not. I don't want to lose it, either," she added gently. "You do whatever you have to."
He sighed, looking around the rustic, spacious kitchen.
"Then I think I'll do some discreet advertising. God knows, you can't go much longer without a new
wardrobe," he added with a mischievous wink.
"Forget about my wardrobe," she returned. "I don't care what I wear. Not anymore," she added,
turning back to see about the coffee.
"There's still Hale," he said, trying to comfort her as best he could. Her pain was tangible.
"Yes, there's still Brandon. He's taking me to a cattleman's association dinner next Wednesday night,"
she said. "He's a nice man, don't you think?"
He studied her quietly. "Sure he is. But you don't love him. Don't settle for crumbs, honey. Go for the
whole meal."
She laughed. "Old reprobate," she accused. "You do have a way with words."
"You have a way with food," he countered. "Will you hurry up and get some supper fixed? I'm
starving!"
"Okay." She went back to her pots and pans. From the kitchen window, she couid see the bunkhouse.
C.C. came out suddenly, dressed in, of ail things, a suit. He walked toward the house, big and lean and
elegant, and she washed the same dish four times while she waited for the step at the kitchen door. C.C.
never went to the front. He was too much like family. But right now he was her worst enemy. The suit
bothered her. Was he quitting? She felt her heart stop beating momentarily while she brooded.
Did he hate her that much. . . ?
He came in without knocking, letting in a chilly burst of wind. Penelope shuddered.
"It's getting colder out there," Ben said to ease the sudden tension.
"Colder than you know," C.C. said. He had a smoking cigarette in his hand. He lifted it to his thin lips,
glaring at Pepi. "I'll be away until early next week. I've got some personal business to see to.
Including," he added icily,
"getting an annulment underway, f want that marriage license, Penelope."
She wiped her hands on her apron, not looking at him.
"I'll get it," she said in a subdued tone, and ran for the staircase.
Her hands trembled as she took the piece of paper out of her bureau drawer and looked at it. C. C.
Tremayne. The name on the license said Connal Cade Tremayne. Connal.
She'd never called him anything but C.C. Until that night in Juarez, she didn't know what the initials
stood for. Now she said the name to herself and grieved for the dreams contained in that simple page
of words. If only things had been different, and they'd married because he loved her.
She took one long, last look at the license and carried it back downstairs.
C.C. was waiting for her at the foot of the staircase, alone.
His black eyes bit into her face, but she wouldn't meet them. She held out the paper in trembling, cold
fingers until he took it and then she jerked her hand back before it touched his. She could imagine that
he'd welcome her touch about as much as leprosy right now.
"I'm sorry," she said huskily, staring at her boot-dad feet.
"It was just "
"Just an outsize crush that got out of hand," he returned icily. "Well, it backfired, didn't it? You're
underhanded and scheming and probably a golddigger to boot."
Hot tears stung her eyes. She didn't answer him. She edged past him and went into the kitchen, barely
able to see the floor as she went back to the pots and pans on the stove.
He clenched the license in his lean hand, hating himself, hating her. He was taking the hide off her,
and he knew he was being unreasonable, but she'd tricked him into marriage when he was too drunk
to know what he was doing. He'd thought better of her. She had no right to land him in this
predicament. He'd taken Edie out, he'd. . . And he was married! What if he'd decided to take Edie to a
minister? He'd have been committing unwitting adultery and bigamy all at once!
"She's paying for it," Ben said quietly, joining the younger man in the hall. "Don't make it any worse
on her.
She didn't do it deliberately, regardless of what you think."
"She should have told me," he returned curtly.
"Yes," Ben agreed. "She should have. But she didn't know how. She didn't think it was legal. And to
give her credit, she did call an attorney about a quick, quiet annulment.
But she found out she'd need your signature for that."
"Did you know?" C.C. demanded.
Ben shook his head. "Not until today. I thought she was in some kind of trouble, but I had no idea what
it was."
C.C. stared at the paper in his hand with angry, troubled eyes. Marriage. A wife. He couldn't forget
Marsha, he couldn't forget her determination to go down that river with him. She'd always been [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]