Tyler. Diana Palmer

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      “Why, Tyler, how nice to see you again,” Marguerite said laughingly, pausing in the doorway.

      “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Regan,” he replied dryly, and there was a world of knowledge in the pale green eyes that swept lazily down her slender body. Marguerite couldn’t take him in with that strategic pose. He knew too much. But it was amusing to watch her try.

      Nell wanted to throw herself down in the dust and cry, but that wouldn’t have done any good. She went back inside, giving up without a struggle.

      Marguerite gave her a curious glance, but Nell didn’t even look at her. If she wanted Tyler, she was welcome to him, Nell thought miserably. After all, she had nothing to give him herself.

      Supper was a quiet affair, except for the boys squabbling over everything from milk to beans.

      “Tyler is taking me riding tomorrow,” Marguerite said, giving Nell an apprehensive glance. “You’ll mind the boys, won’t you?”

      Nell looked up. She felt rebellious. Restless. “As a matter of fact, I can’t,” she said with a faint smile. “Take them with you. Tyler’s already said he wouldn’t mind helping them find arrowheads.”

      “Sure!” Jess burst out. “I’d love to go.”

      “I’ll go, too,” Curt said.

      Marguerite looked annoyed. “I don’t want you along.”

      “You don’t love us,” Jess wailed.

      “You never did,” Curt seconded, and he started to cry.

      Marguerite threw up her hands. “See what you’ve done now!” she accused Nell.

      “I haven’t done anything except refuse to be your doormat.” Nell finished her potatoes. “I don’t remember inviting you here,” she replied coolly. “Don’t expect me to entertain you or baby-sit for you.”

      “You always have before,” Marguerite reminded her.

      “That was before,” Nell replied. “I’m not doing it anymore. You’ll have to take care of yourself.”

      “Who’s been talking to you?” Marguerite asked, fascinated.

      “Nobody has,” Nell replied. “I’m just tired of holding up the world. Why don’t you get a job?”

      Marguerite’s gasp was audible, but Nell had gotten up and left the table before she had time for any outbursts.

      * * *

      Tyler took Marguerite and the boys riding the next morning. Marguerite did look good in a riding habit, Nell had to concede, but the redhead was obviously out of sorts at having the boys along. Tyler hadn’t fussed about taking the boys, either. He liked children. Nell smiled. She liked them, too, but it was Marguerite’s job to be their mother, not Nell’s.

      She wandered out to the kitchen and picked up a biscuit, having refused breakfast because she hadn’t wanted to hear Margie raising cain about the boys going along on her romantic ride.

      “And what’s eating you, as if I didn’t know?” Bella asked.

      Nell laughed. “Nothing at all.”

      “You’ve got Margie running for cover. Imagine, you talking back to her and refusing to be pushed around. Are you sick or something?” she added, her keen old eyes probing.

      Nell bit into the biscuit. “Not at all. I’m just tired of being worked to death, I guess.”

      “And watching Margie flirt with Tyler, I’ve no doubt.”

      Nell glared at the older woman. “Stop that. You know I don’t like him.”

      “You like him. Maybe it’s my fault that things never got going between you,” Bella confessed gently. “I was trying to spare you more heartache, or I’d never have said anything when you put on that pretty dress….”

      Nell turned away. She didn’t like being reminded of that day. “He isn’t my type,” she said gruffly. “He’s Margie’s type.”

      “That’s what you think,” Bella murmured dryly. She put her towel down and stood staring at the other woman. “I’ve wanted to tell you for years that most men are nice critters. Some of them are even domesticated. All men aren’t like Darren McAnders,” she added, watching Nell’s face go pale. “And he wasn’t even that bad except when he was pushed into getting drunk. He loved Margie.”

      “And I loved him,” Nell said coldly. “He flirted with me and teased me, just like Tyler did at first. And then he did…he did that to me, and it wasn’t even because he was attracted to me. It was just to make Margie jealous!”

      “It was despicable,” Bella agreed. “But it was worse for you because you cared about him, and you felt betrayed and used. It was a good thing I happened upstairs when I did.”

      “Yes,” Nell said tautly. The memories hurt.

      “But it wasn’t as bad as you’ve always made it out to be, either,” Bella said firmly, ignoring the shocked look she got from Nell. “It wasn’t,” she added. “If you’d ever gone out with boys or had a date, you’d understand what happened a lot better. You hadn’t even been kissed—”

      “Stop it,” Nell muttered miserably. She stuck her hands in her jeans and shifted. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m plain and countrified and no man is ever going to want me, no matter what I do. And I heard what Tyler said that night,” she added with a cold glare. “I heard every word. He said he didn’t want a ‘lovesick tomboy hanging on to his boots.’”

      Bella sighed. “So you did hear him. I was afraid that’s why he was getting the deep-freeze treatment lately.”

      “It doesn’t matter, you know,” Nell said with deliberate carelessness. “It’s just as well I found out early that I was annoying him. I’ve been careful not to bother him since.”

      Bella started to say something, but obviously thought better of it. “How long is Her Highness here for?”

      “Just until tomorrow afternoon, thank God.” Nell sighed. “I’d better get cracking. We’re going riding, and then this afternoon I’ve got a busload of shoppers to take into town. I thought I’d run them over to the El Con mall. They might like to get some real Western gear at Cooper’s.”

      “The silversmiths are over near San Xavier,” she was reminded. “And they could have some Papago fry bread for refreshments.”

      —Tohono o’odham,“ Nell corrected automatically. “That’s a real Papago word, meaning people of the desert. They changed it because they got tired of being called ’bean people’ in Zuni.”

      “I can’t say that,” Bella muttered.

      “Sure you can. Tohono o’odham. Anyway, the fry bread is a good idea if we have any time left from the shopping.”

      “Are any of the husbands tagging along?” СКАЧАТЬ