The Heart Won't Lie. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      She gestured toward the leather chairs positioned in front of the fireplace. “Let’s sit. It’s too warm for a fire, but we tend to gather here and stare at the cold grate, anyway. Habit, I guess.” She settled into one of the leather armchairs.

      Michael took the one next to her. “Great chair.”

      “Thanks.”

      “And even without a fire, the stonework is worth looking at.”

      “My father-in-law was a talented man.” She turned to Michael. “I’m curious. What prompted you to ask for riding and roping lessons?”

      Michael decided to give her the same answer he’d given Keri. It was the truth, so far as it went. “Like a lot of guys, I’ve always wanted to be a cowboy.”

      She studied him for a moment. “It’s not as glamorous as it looks from the outside.”

      “I’m sure it’s not, which is why I don’t plan to actually be one. But learning some of the skills will be…interesting.”

      She smiled. “I notice you didn’t say it would be fun.”

      “Yeah, well, I don’t know if it will be or not, but I have to try.”

      “I think it will be fun for you. I hope so, because you’re obviously interested in giving it a shot. But Jack’s a taskmaster.”

      “I’m not surprised to hear that.” Michael took another taste of his Scotch, which was excellent.

      “I think we have some liniment upstairs, and probably Epsom salts, too. Have Keri find those for you.”

      “Okay.” He decided that was as good an opening as any. “If I’m being too nosy, just say so, but why are you so sure Keri will leave? What is her background?”

      “She didn’t tell you?”

      “No, just that she’s from Baltimore.”

      Sarah hesitated. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that I think she’ll leave. I’ll blame being distracted by the wedding for letting that comment slip out. But since I did mention it, I can understand why you’d be curious. So I’ll just say that she comes from a very privileged background.” She glanced at him. “Probably much like yours, in fact.”

      “Yet she’s working as a housekeeper.”

      “Yes, and her reasons are hers to tell.”

      “I don’t think she will tell me.”

      Sarah met his gaze. “That’s up to her, then.”

      Michael had no choice but to drop the subject. He asked about her grandchildren, a topic she clearly loved, and Keri wasn’t mentioned again. Later on, Sarah’s fiancé arrived, followed by Jack and his wife, Josie.

      During their meal in the smaller dining room adjacent to the larger one used for lunch, Michael thought he did a pretty decent job of focusing on his four dinner partners. Pete Beckett, Sarah’s fiancé, was tall, lean and had a great sense of humor. Josie, an attractive blonde, dressed like a cowgirl and wore her long hair in a braid down her back. Jack obviously needed a strong woman to balance his tendency to take charge, and Josie seemed to fit the bill. Michael liked them all, but his thoughts stayed with Keri.

      The ranch cook, a middle-aged woman named Mary Lou, served the meal. But Michael knew that Keri had helped prepare it, and he kept hoping she’d show up at some point. She didn’t, but he could hear the faint sounds of feminine laughter coming from the kitchen, along with a man’s voice.

      Michael wondered who was in that kitchen with Mary Lou and Keri. For all he knew, Keri was involved with one of the ranch hands. It shouldn’t matter to him. Unfortunately for his peace of mind, it did.

      THE DINERS HAD LEFT, the dining table had been cleared and Keri sat with Mary Lou in the kitchen. They’d been joined by Watkins, a ranch hand who was also Mary Lou’s husband as of the previous summer. All three of them were enjoying a leisurely moment over dessert and coffee.

      “Mary Lou, nobody can make a chocolate cake like you can.” Keri pushed back her chair. “I’m having a second piece.”

      “Believe I’ll have a second piece of that cake, myself.” Watkins rose from his chair.

      “Hold on there, cowboy.” Mary Lou caught his arm and pulled him back down. “Your jeans are getting a might snug.”

      Watkins sighed and resumed his seat. “That’s a fact, but it ain’t fair.” He used a napkin to wipe cake crumbs off his handlebar mustache. “Keri eats and eats, and she doesn’t gain a pound. I just look at a second piece of cake and I have to let out my belt another hole.”

      “That’s because Keri is twenty-seven and you’re fifty-four,” Mary Lou said. “Your metabolism is slower.”

      “That may be, Lou-Lou, but the rest of me hasn’t lost a step.” He winked at Mary Lou. Although they’d only been married a year, he’d been after her for a long time before that, and his delight at finally getting her was obvious.

      Mary Lou rolled her eyes. “There you go again, bragging on yourself.” But she said it with a smile. Then she glanced at Keri. “I thought you were getting more cake?”

      “I don’t really need it.”

      “Don’t give it up just because Watkins will stare at you mournfully while you eat it. Be strong. Claim your cake.”

      “I will stare at her mournfully, too,” Watkins said. “That is the best damn cake in the world.”

      “Oh, for crying out loud!” Mary Lou picked up his plate and hers. “I’ll cut you a tiny slice, you whiny baby. You can eat it slow. And I’ll have some more, while I’m at it. Give me your plate, Keri. Might as well cut them all at once.”

      Keri grinned and handed over her plate. “Thanks, Mary Lou. Make it this big.” She held her thumb and forefinger about two inches apart.

      Watkins shook his head. “I don’t know where you put it all, girl.”

      “It’s the grave digging,” Mary Lou said as she uncovered the cake and started slicing. “Keeps a person slim and trim.”

      “I guess I’ll never live that down, will I?” Keri didn’t mind the teasing, though. Mary Lou only teased the people she liked.

      “You not only buried him, you erected a monument.” Mary Lou set a good-size piece of cake in front of Keri, a medium-size one for herself and a sliver in front of Watkins, who made a face.

      Keri picked up her fork. “Jack asked me to make sure the dogs couldn’t dig it up.”

      Watkins laughed. “They sure as hell won’t after you piled about twenty-five rocks on it. You’d need a backhoe to get that varmint out of the ground, now.”

      “But at least we know where She buried the little bugger,” Mary Lou said. “I won’t get a nasty surprise next summer when I plant my petunias.” СКАЧАТЬ