‘Perhaps we could take a ride together. Not too far, though,’ she added laughingly. ‘I need to take it in easy stages.’
‘Right after breakfast,’ Margot promised, obviously only too ready to fall in with whatever was proposed. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Alex,’ she added impulsively.
‘So am I.’ Alex leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her sister-in-law’s cheek. ‘See you in the morning. Bright and early!’
The door to Cal’s room was firmly closed. Whether he was in there or not there was no way of knowing. If he was, and asleep already, it was unlikely that any small noise was going to waken him but, nevertheless, Alex found herself tiptoeing around the bedroom as she unpacked.
Would he sleep in pyjamas? she found herself wondering, and had a sudden vivid impression of that long, lean body minus anything at all, bringing her to an abrupt stop in the act of easing open a drawer to stow away some clothing. She was hardly in the habit of indulging in lewd thoughts about men—for the most part she preferred not to think of them at all these days—but there was something about Cal Forrester that stirred her baser instincts: something that liking had little to do with.
Dangerous only if she allowed it to be, she told herself hardily, stuffing undies into the half-open drawer, and that she had no intention of doing.
She awoke to daylight and a feeling of well-being that lasted only as long as it took her to register the position of the hands on the bedside clock. Nine-thirty! The day was half over!
Flinging back the bedclothes, she slid her feet into the neat black mules she used as slippers and reached for the light cotton wrap she had left over the end of the bed. Breakfast would be long over by now, the all-day party miles out on the trail. With any luck, Cal would be off the homestead too. She would hate to face that derisive smile of his when she finally got downstairs.
Showered, and dressed in jeans and blue chambray shirt, she tied her hair back from her face with a pale blue scarf and applied a hasty smear of lipstick before leaving the room. Better late than never, she told herself, but it wasn’t convincing.
One of the youngish women who had served supper was crossing the wide hall as Alex descended the stairs. She paused on sight of her.
‘Didn’t realise you were up yet,’ she said without censure. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’
‘Just coffee will be fine, thanks,’ Alex responded, unwilling to put the woman to any trouble when she must have other things to do. ‘You’re Janet, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right. Janet Leeson. You can’t go till lunchtime on just coffee,’ she added. ‘I’ll fetch you some pancakes and syrup.’
‘I’d be happier with toast,’ Alex conceded. ‘Quite happy to do it myself too. You don’t have to wait on me.’
Janet lifted her shoulders in a cheerful shrug. ‘It’s what I’m paid for, honey. Anyway, Buck doesn’t like folk invading his kitchen. You take yourself out on the veranda and I’ll bring it to you. Too good a morning to hang about indoors.’
And had been for some time, thought Alex , ruefully, moving to obey the injunction as the older woman turned back the way she had come. At least she felt fully rested. After ten full hours’ sleep she should do too!
There was no sign of Margot when she stepped onto the veranda. The mountains were etched against a sky of cobalt blue, the sun a blazing orb already high overhead. From the step she looked out over the corrals to the rolling grasslands beyond, glimpsing water through the belt of trees a quarter of a mile or so away. Having a river running right through Lazy Y land had to make it a particularly valuable property, she reckoned.
Life here must be pretty good all round, although the winters would be far more severe than anything she had ever experienced, with snow feet rather than mere inches deep. Even then there would be compensations such as skiing right on the doorstep, for instance. Not that she could ski, but given the incentive...
‘So you made it,’ commented a fast becoming familiar voice behind her, making muscle and sinew tense in involuntary response. ‘Sleep well?’
Alex turned about slowly, maintaining a deadpan expression with the utmost difficulty. Dressed once more in jeans and shirt, thumbs hooked casually into his belt, one dark brow lifted in ironical enquiry, Cal leaned against the doorframe. How long had he been standing there watching her? she wondered fleetingly.
‘Very well, thanks,’ she said, determined not to show any discomfiture over her tardiness. ‘I didn’t expect to find you still around at this hour.’
‘I had some paperwork to catch up on. There’s more to raising cattle than riding herd.’
‘I’m sure there is,’ Alex returned smoothly. ‘Just as there’s more to modelling than standing in front of a camera.’
For a brief moment there was genuine humour in the grey eyes, then the mockery was back two-fold. ‘I’ll take your word for it. Have you eaten?’
‘Janet is bringing me some toast and coffee,’ she said, and felt herself moved to add, ‘I’d have got it myself, but I understand your cook doesn’t like strangers wandering about the kitchen.’
‘Buck doesn’t like anybody wandering about the kitchen,’ Cal agreed. ‘Including me.’
Alex lifted a brow in faithful imitation. ‘You allow him to dictate?’
‘Considering the difficulty I’d have in replacing him, I don’t have much alternative.’
‘Oh, well, I don’t imagine you’re all that eager to spend time in the kitchen anyway,’ she said blandly.
‘You could be right about that.’ He came away from the doorjamb to allow Janet through, following her out to indicate the nearest group of chairs with a nod of his head. ‘I’ll join you.’
There were two cups already on the tray, Alex noted. Obviously Janet had anticipated some such move. She was none too keen on the idea herself, but she didn’t have much alternative either.
Cal waited until she was seated before taking a seat himself, lifting both boot-clad feet to rest a heel on the rail with the ease of long custom.
‘I wouldn’t mind a piece of toast to go with it, if there’s any going spare,’ he said when Alex handed him a cup of the hot black coffee. ‘Figuring always did work me up an appetite.’
‘I’m surprised you don’t employ an accountant,’ she commented.
‘I did at one time, until I found he was cheating me blind.’
Blue eyes lifted to regard the strongly carved features, taking in the firm line of his mouth, the hardness of jaw. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He spent some time behind bars.’ The tone was matter-of-fact. ‘He was lucky.’
‘Meaning he might have got worse if he hadn’t been locked up?’
‘Meaning he was out inside a few months. We don’t do any stringin’ up these days.’
It
