Something To Talk About. Laurie Paige

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СКАЧАТЬ and their grandfather had had a stroke immediately after the funeral, the three cousins, the last of their family, had banded together and determined to keep the ranch going. It hadn’t been easy.

      Megan shook her head, her bright coppery curls bouncing with each movement. “I’m fine. With the policeman there, you’ll have income from the apartment. That will help you out.”

      Kate realized she’d forgotten to mention rent to her new tenant. She wondered how much he could afford. “Yes. Every dollar counts, since the price of beef dropped.”

      “Wouldn’t it be nice if he spent the summer? Then you can get another teacher in there when school starts.”

      “He’s only going to stay a few days, a month at the most.”

      “That’s too bad.”

      Kate wasn’t sure about that. “I have to run. I’m helping Rory set up his bookkeeping system.”

      “Have fun.” Megan wrinkled her nose.

      Bookkeeping was not Kate’s cousin’s idea of entertainment, but Kate liked it. She liked the order of numbers and the certainty of the balance sheet. She wondered if she liked those things because life had never seemed to add up, not to her. For instance, when did the good balance the bad? Shaking off the useless nostalgia, she stood. “Thanks again for the gifts.”

      Kate stored her presents in the car, then drove over to the offices of Dr. Rory Daniels. Kate had known Rory all her life. After finishing veterinarian training, he had gone into partnership with Doc Bloom. He was an excellent vet and an expert on horses, advising Megan on the ranch breeding program.

      Tall, racehorse trim, a year behind her in age, he had coal-black hair and light-blue eyes. While she explained the bookkeeping entries on the new computer system to him and his secretary, she noticed how handsome he was…but she kept seeing Jess Fargo….

      When Kate returned home in the late afternoon, she found the coffee mug and milk pitcher on her back steps, along with a check for a month’s rent for the same amount she’d charged the teacher. He must have asked Shannon the rental price.

      From her upstairs bedroom she could see Jeremy at the lake, sitting on the pier and staring into the water, looking forlorn. After changing clothes, she dug up some fishing worms and headed for the path to the lake with two poles.

      “Hi,” she called out before stepping on the rough planks.

      The boy’s head snapped around. For a moment she saw his misery, then the shy grin appeared. Her heart clenched in pity. Kids were hurt the most when a marriage failed.

      He probably felt left out now that his mom had decided to remarry and had packed him off to his father.

      “You from Houston, too?” she asked.

      “Yeah.”

      “Going to be a cop?”

      He cast her a startled glance, then shrugged.

      “I thought my cousin was loony when she went into police work, but she seems to like it and she’s good. The world needs people like that. Is your dad a good cop?”

      Jeremy appeared shocked that she would ask. “The best,” he told her. “He got a medal from the mayor for saving a woman’s life even after he was shot.”

      She nodded. The son’s pride in his dad and his admiration for the man were obvious. There was respect, too. That was good, but the youngster was lonely. His eyes, the same shadowy green as his father’s held emotion too deep for one so young. He’d seen a lot of life, this kid who tugged at her heart. She sighed and looked away.

      The relationship between the father and son was none of her business, she reminded herself. Stay out of it.

      But there was one other thing she wanted to say to her young guest. “My mother died when I was a senior in high school. When my dad remarried a couple of years later, I resented it. I thought it was somehow a betrayal of my mother, but I realized that life goes on, you know?”

      Jeremy ducked his head and studied the water lapping against the posts of the pier. He nodded jerkily.

      “I felt left out of their happiness. It was kind of hard until I got used to the idea. I was sort of lost and lonely.”

      “My mom’s boyfriend doesn’t want me around,” he blurted out, his voice breaking on an upward note of distress.

      “Hmm.” She waited a long minute. “He probably thinks the same about you—that you don’t want him around. Maybe he’s worried that she loves you more than she loves him. People are like that, you know, sort of insecure about things.”

      A frown, very like his father’s, appeared on the smooth brow of the youngster. She figured she had given him enough to digest for now. Besides, she didn’t want to get involved with anyone else’s problems, especially those of a hardheaded detective who would be out of her life in a few weeks.

      “I dug up some worms,” she mentioned casually, picking up one of the rods. “I have an extra spinning outfit.”

      She put a worm on the hook and cast into the lake. Hardly a minute went by before she had a bite. “Bluegills. They get hungry about this time of day.”

      Jeremy watched her catch a fish before he picked up the rod and tried his luck. He lost a half dozen worms before he caught on. When he brought his first fish in and removed it from the hook, she saw a different person, one who was laughing and excited and happy, the way a youngster his age should be.

      “Hey, that’s a big one, a seven- or eight-incher. I think we’ll have fresh fish for supper tonight.”

      The sober expression returned. “I don’t know if my dad knows how to cook fish.”

      “No reason for him to have to. A person should be able to cook his own catch, my dad always said. We’ll fry ’em up at my place and invite your father to join us. Okay?”

      His grin was huge. She saw the father reflected in the son, when Jess Fargo had been young and idealistic and enthusiastic about life. A sense of sorrow overcame her. She shook it off. Jess Fargo wasn’t her problem.

      “Yes, ma’am,” Jeremy said. “Yeah, that would be great.”

      “I’m Kate to my friends.”

      No matter what she told herself for the next hour, she knew she was being pulled in like the fish on the end of her line. But there was a kid involved, and where kids were concerned, well, she couldn’t help but worry. So maybe she and Jeremy could be friends while he was there.

      She counted the fish on their stringer. “We have enough. Let’s clean them.”

      The boy followed as she led the way back to the garden and the compost heap. She removed a knife from her pocket and, on a big flat rock, cleaned her share of the catch, tossing the fish heads into a hole she dug at the edge of the compost. When she handed the knife to him, he followed her example.

      At the house she dipped her fish into egg beaten with milk, then into cornmeal. While he got his share ready, she fried her catch in oil, then let him do the same.

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