Wyoming Fierce. Diana Palmer
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abused your trust,” he added gently. “Not good policy, to alienate your only caretaker.”
“Tank or Mallory could save bars from you if they had to,” she pointed out.
“Well, yes, but not without some broken teeth. You can do it with fewer bruises.”
“Nice to know I’m useful,” she replied with a smile in her voice.
There was another pause. He didn’t like talking on the telephone. He did it reluctantly at best. “You dating anybody from that college you go to?” he asked suddenly.
Her heart jumped. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
“I’m too busy studying to run around with men,” she muttered. “I wasn’t blessed with the size brain all you Kirk boys have. I have to dig for my grades.”
“We all have degrees,” he admitted. “But we had to dig for ours, too. Well, maybe not Mallory. He’s just smart.”
“He is.”
“When do you go back to school?”
“Tomorrow morning before daylight,” she said heavily. “My first final is after lunch tomorrow. It’s finals all week.”
There was another pause. “You coming back home after you finish those?”
“Yes. I’ll be here until the first of the year, through the holidays. Granddaddy would be all alone without me. We only have each other.”
“And your stepfather,” he said, but without any warmth in his tone.
“Will Jones is not part of my family,” she bit off. “Not at all.”
“Can’t say I blame you for not claiming him,” he admitted. “None of us ever understood what your mother saw in him.”
Not for worlds would Bodie admit what her mother had said, that she knew she was dying and it was worth putting up with her new husband’s quirks because he was well-to-do and was willing to pay her medical bills and take care of Bodie. It had been a little more complicated than that. Bodie had spent the past two years getting undressed in bathrooms and locking her door at night to prevent any unwanted attention from her mother’s husband. Then when her mother died, everything had come to a head just after the funeral and she’d gone to Granddaddy’s home for good.
“There’s no accounting for taste,” Cane said.
“Truly.”
“It was money, wasn’t it?” he asked suddenly. “She was sick for a long time and couldn’t work.”
Bodie’s heart skipped. Her bow lips made a thin line. “Something like that.”
“She was proud,” he said unexpectedly. “Not the sort of person to ever ask for help.”
She didn’t reply.
“All right, I won’t pry,” he said after the silence. “So, I guess I’ll see you when you come home.”
“Yes,” she said, hesitant.
“If I said or did anything to upset you, I’m sorry,” he added. “I wish I could remember, but the whole night’s a blur. Tank said you looked a little ruffled when he drove you home.”
“I should have looked ruffled!” she replied with spirit. “Trying to wrestle a huge, heavy man onto a bed when he’s deadweight would cause most people to look ruffled! And then you passed out…”
“Oh.” He laughed, softly, deeply. “Okay. That’s really what I wanted to know.”
She was blushing. Thank goodness he couldn’t see. “So, you don’t owe me any apologies,” she said.
“I guess not. I had this really crazy dream tonight…but it was just a dream, I guess, after all.” He laughed, while Bodie bit her tongue. “Damned woman hurt my feelings so bad,” he said in a heavy tone. “I take things hard.”
“Women come in all shapes and sizes and dispositions,” she pointed out. “I don’t think women who hang out in bars looking for men are particularly sensitive. Just my two cents.”
“You want to know what they’re looking for, I’ll tell you…”
“Don’t!”
“It’s money,” he said flatly. “It was a five-star hotel, and a lot of rich men have a nightcap. She was waiting for a patsy to show up, and I walked in. If she’d seen an empty sleeve, she probably never would have come near me, with her hang-ups about disability,” he said curtly. “I guess I should toss that damned prosthesis in the trash can. I would, except I could buy a car with what it cost.”
“They’re working on prosthetics that can be directly connected to nerve endings, so they work like real hands,” she told him. “The whole field of prosthetics is very exciting, with all the advances....”
“And why would you be reading up on that?” he asked suddenly.
She hesitated. “Because I have this idiot friend who thinks he’s disabled,” she fired right back.
He burst out laughing. “Are we friends?”
“If we weren’t, why would I be rescuing you from bars and certain arrest?” she wondered out loud.
He sighed. “Yeah,” he replied. “I guess we are friends.” He paused. “You’re barely twenty-two, Bodie,” he said gently. “I’m thirty-four. It’s an odd friendship. And just so you know, I’m not in the market for a child bride.”
“You think I’d want to marry you?” she exclaimed.
There was a hesitation. She could almost feel the outrage. He’d be thinking immediately she didn’t want to marry him because of his arm.
“Just because you know a tibia from a fibula when you dig it up, right?” she continued quickly in a sardonic tone. “And because you know how to pronounce Australopithecus and you know what a foramen magnum is!” she said, referring to the large hole at the base of the skull.
He seemed taken aback. “Well, I do know what it is.”
“You wait,” she said. “When I finish my master’s work and get into the PhD program in anthropology, I’ll give you a run for your money.”
“That’s a long course of study.”
“I know. Years and years. But I don’t have any plans to marry, either,” she added, “and certainly not to a man just because he can tell an atlas from a sacrum. So there.”
He laughed softly. “I used to love to dig.”
“You can get people to dig for you, and still do it,” she suggested. “In fact, when you’re doing the delicate work, it doesn’t really require two hands. Just a toothbrush and a trowel and no aversion to dust and mud.”
“I suppose.”
“You shouldn’t give up something you love.”
“Bones and mud.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “Bones and mud.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.”
“Think about the therapist, too, would you?” she asked. “I’ve already lined up a summer job at a dig in Colorado next year after graduation. I’ll be away for several weeks. Nobody to rescue you from bar brawls,” she added pointedly. “And depending on which specialization I choose, I might go overseas for PhD work, do classical archaeology in the Middle East....”
“No!” he said flatly. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll talk to your grandfather if you even consider it.”
She was surprised and flattered by the protest. She knew he was remembering what had happened to him in Iraq,