sister guaranteed you.”
“Sisters are good for something,” he said, straight-faced.
“Yours seemed like a nice woman. She let me touch her horses.”
He heard the flash of bitterness, because those disconcerting eyes fixed themselves on her face again. “You’re a vet.”
“I’m a woman.”
His gaze flicked downward, then back to her face. “I noticed,” he said in a voice that had roughened just enough to be a compliment.
“Women are apparently competent to treat a five-pound cat. A thousand-pound Jersey cow is another story.”
He frowned. “Guess we’re a little backward in White Horse.”
“Eric—Eric Bergstrom, that is—warned me, but he thought the farmers would get over it. Judging from my first few weeks, they’re not in any hurry to.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Joe said.
She made a face. “Don’t tell me you’re a dairy farmer on the side.”
“Nope. Hardly know one end of a cow from another. But I have friends who are.”
“Ah. You’re going to tell them what a sweet girl I am.”
He apparently didn’t mind her sarcasm, because one corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m going to tell them which end of their cow not to be.”
A cow’s ass. She liked it.
“Might come better from you than me,” she conceded. Her basically cheerful nature triumphed and she laughed. “When can you take out my trees?”
“Next week. Say, Monday.”
Monday was one of her days off. She could watch. She didn’t kid herself about what—or who—she’d be watching.
She smiled and held out her hand. “See you then.”
He glanced down at her hand and seemed to deliberate for a moment before he took it. His grip sent a shiver through her. When he released her, he flexed his fingers before balling them into a fist. Unfortunately his face told her remarkably little.
“Monday,” he repeated, gave a brief nod and headed for his huge shiny blue pickup without a backward glance.
Teresa wandered into the house. Both kids were waiting for her.
“Who,” her daughter demanded, enunciating carefully, “was he?”
“A hunk, wasn’t he?”
Nicole’s lip curled. “He was dirty!”
Teresa was in just the mood to provoke a little outrage. Musingly she said, “There’s something about a sweaty man…a day’s growth of beard…a little dirt under his fingernails…”
“But, Mom!” Mark stared at her as if she’d gone stark-raving mad. “Then how come you won’t let me go to school dirty? How come I have to wash my hands before we eat? How come—?”
“You’re not a man, stupid.” His sister didn’t even glance at him. “You’re a boy. A little kid. A—”
“You think you’re so grown-up? Then how come the men aren’t all lined up outside?”
“There isn’t anyone in this nowhere place I’d want lined up!” Nicole flared. “And can’t you tell when Mom is putting you on?”
“Actually, I wasn’t,” Teresa said calmly. “He’s a very handsome man. Now, can we quit bickering? He’s also a logger who is going to take those wretched trees out for us. Monday.”
“Cool,” Mark declared. “Can I watch?”
“Nope. You’ll be in school by then, remember? Registration tomorrow.”
“School!” Nicole collapsed on a kitchen chair. “Mom, what am I going to wear?”
“How about leggings and a sweater?”
“How about overalls and work boots?” her fifteen-year-old retorted bitterly.
“Seems to me a pair of sacky overalls is one of your standards,” Teresa agreed. “Good idea.”
“Please, please, please, can we go shopping?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” Nicole wailed.
“Because I don’t want to,” Teresa said reasonably. “And you have a perfectly adequate wardrobe. Now, can I turn the oven on?”
“Why didn’t you let me move in with Jayne?” Nicole jumped to her feet. “This place stinks!” She ran from the room and a moment later Teresa heard her feet thundering up the stairs.
She’d probably spend the rest of the evening on the telephone with her friends in Bellevue. The long-distance charges would have to become an issue eventually, but for now Teresa figured they were a small price to pay. She sighed and saw Mark staring after his sister with almost as much bewilderment as his mother felt.
“Like Bellevue was so great.” He stuffed some string cheese in his mouth. “What’s for dinner, Mom?”
Thank God for one cheerful member of her family. “Chicken and artichoke hearts.”
“Cool,” he said again. He even submitted to a hug, though he didn’t have a clue why she felt compelled to give it.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE seen this guy.” Nicole flopped back against her pillow and rolled her eyes, even though Jayne couldn’t see. “I swear he had size-twelve feet, and these clumps of mud were sticking to his boots, and he wore overalls. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been chewing on a piece of straw.”
“He’s your neighbor?” Jayne sounded properly horrified.
“No, he’s some kind of logger. Mom’s having some trees taken out.”
“Well, then, you’ll probably never see him again.”
“Everybody here looks like that,” Nicole said gloomily. “They’re all farmers or loggers or something. I heard these two girls talking the other day, and one of them is competing to become Dairy Princess at the fair next year. Can you imagine? The crown probably has horns on it!”
Nicole wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t tell Jayne her mother had thought the logger was a hunk. No, that wasn’t true; she did know why. She was embarrassed. Her own mother, for crying out loud!
“Listen,” Jayne said, “I gotta go. Maddy and Kelly and I are going to a film festival tonight. They’re running a bunch of foreign films. I don’t like subtitles, but Maddy says some of the guys are going, including—get this—Russell Harlan, so I’m wearing that red dress—you know, that one
