The Gentleman Rancher. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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СКАЧАТЬ nodded. She and Jeremy didn’t agree on much but they did agree on this. She turned to face their mutual friend. “Why didn’t you tell me Jeremy was already bunking here?”

      Paige shrugged. “Because it shouldn’t make any difference. The ranch is plenty big enough for the three of us. Especially since Jeremy and I both will be working at the hospital the majority of the time. Furthermore, I don’t have any problem saying I am getting pretty tired of being in the middle of your quarrel.”

      “Hey,” Jeremy interrupted with a scowl, “we never asked you to take sides.”

      “Right,” Paige drawled. “You just stopped speaking to each other and forbid me to speak about either of you to the other. Not cool.”

      Taylor glared at Jeremy.

      Jeremy glared back.

      “It’s time the two of you made up so the three of us can be friends again, the way we used to be.” Paige munched on a potato chip. “I miss the fun we used to have, you know?”

      Taylor slid the patties into a sizzling skillet and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Even if we bury the hatchet, it is never going to be the same. You two are still in medicine. I’m not.”

      “You could be again if you wanted to be.” Jeremy rummaged through the fridge.

      Paige looked reprovingly at Jeremy, as if to say, “Not that old argument again!”

      “My sentiments exactly,” Taylor said.

      Jeremy tossed them a look over his shoulder. He set pickles, mustard, ketchup and mayo on the counter. “I can’t help feeling the way I do.” He straightened and shut the door.

      “Yes,” Paige countered, stepping past him to get the lettuce, tomato and cheese, “but you can certainly help saying it.”

      Jeremy harrumphed at Taylor. “You were the most talented student in our class.”

      Taylor flipped the burgers. “Grades aren’t everything, Carrigan.”

      He lounged against the counter opposite her, arms folded across his chest. “You had a way with patients.”

      Trying not to think what his steady appraisal and deep voice did to her, Taylor appraised him right back. “There are many professions that require good people skills.”

      Cynicism lifted one corner of his mouth. “You shouldn’t have quit just because your parents expected you to be a doctor.”

      With effort, Taylor tamped down her rising temper. “I quit because I wanted to write.”

      “You could write and still be a doctor.”

      Taylor looked at Paige. “Make him shut up or I’m going to deck him.”

      Paige layered sliced tomatoes on the platter, next to the lettuce and onions. “You heard the woman.” She sent Jeremy a debilitating look. “Shut. Up.”

      Jeremy moved so he could see around Paige. “Go ahead and punch me,” he dared Taylor. “I’m just saying what has to be said.”

      “No.” Taylor closed the distance between them in three quick strides. She tapped his chest. “You’re saying what you feel. Your emotions have nothing to do with what I want or need.”

      “Probably not,” he acknowledged. “I just think it’s a shame. The world needs more doctors like you—”

      Paige put two fingers between her teeth and whistled loud enough to stop traffic on Times Square. “Enough!” She waved her arms like a referee breaking up a fight. “Both of you—apologize—now!”

      “For what?” Jeremy and Taylor said in unison.

      Rolling her eyes, Paige touched her fingers to her forehead. “I give up. I’m going to the guesthouse.”

      “Don’t you want your burger?” Taylor slid the sizzling meat onto an open bun.

      “Don’t mind if I do.” In stormy silence, Paige added condiments to her sandwich and a handful of chips. She took her plate and bottle of beer with her, calling over her shoulder, “Good night!”

      Silence fell.

      Taylor added the works to her burger, too. “I think I’ll eat in my room.”

      Jeremy clamped a hand on her shoulder, delaying her exit with a sincere look. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Again.”

      His apology seemed genuine enough, Taylor noted grudgingly. She set her plate on the kitchen table, next to her beverage, and took a seat. She spread her napkin over her lap. “The real question is, are you going to bring it up again?”

      “No.” Jeremy garnished his burger, then sat at the other end of the table. He sat down and dug in. “Especially since it’s obvious I’d be wasting my breath.”

      They ate in silence for several minutes.

      Aware she had waited years for the chance to go toe-to-toe with him over this very subject, she said, “It’s not as if I never sold a book, you know. I’m a published novelist and a screenwriter.” She didn’t know why she felt she had to keep saying that. If she’d been a doctor, she wouldn’t have been forced to defend the value of her profession. Of course, if she’d been a doctor, people wouldn’t have questioned the value of her job.

      He polished off one burger, got up to get another. “Got any copies of your book with you?”

      Her defenses snapped back into place. “No.”

      He grabbed another handful of chips, too. “I’d like to read it.”

      Was this a trick? Another way to continue his crusade to get her back into medicine? It didn’t appear so. More like a way to assuage his guilt. She didn’t need penance from him, either. She made no effort to hide her irritation. “You don’t have to do that.”

      “Why don’t you want me to?” he asked, even more curious. He kicked back in his chair and polished off his beer. “I thought all authors wanted to have their stuff read. Isn’t that the point of being a novelist? To be popular? To have your voice heard and all that?”

      Maybe for some. She wrote because she had to, because she had something to say, stories to tell that wouldn’t get out of her head until they were written down. Taylor’d been a storyteller as far back as she could remember, always drifting off into daydreams and conjuring up movies in her head. It was a heaven-sent gift that was as much a part of her as her straight black hair, and just as impossible to explain.

      She sighed and looked Jeremy in the eye. “The only reason I would want you to read my book is because you enjoy that type of story. Since I can’t really see you ever picking up a chick lit novel by anyone else—to read for pleasure—then the answer is a resounding no. Do not do me any favors!”

      Merriment crept into his dark brown eyes. “I could broaden my horizons.”

      Taylor snorted and kicked back in her chair, too. “I’m not saying you don’t need СКАЧАТЬ