Circle Of Gold. Diana Palmer

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Circle Of Gold - Diana Palmer


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a year old when Darlene died. Bess was two. I thought my life was over, too.”

      Kasie didn’t know what to say. It shocked her that a man like Gil would even discuss something so personal with a stranger. Of course, a lot of people discussed even more personal things with Kasie. Maybe she had that sort of face that attracted confidences.

      “Do the girls look like her?” she asked daringly.

      “Bess does. She was blond and blue-eyed. She wasn’t beautiful, but her smile was.” His eyes narrowed in painful memory. “They had to sedate me to make me let go of her. I wouldn’t believe them, even when they swore to me that no means on earth could save her…” His fingers clenched on top of the envelope and he moved his hand away at once and stood up. “Thanks, Kasie,” he said curtly, turning away, as if it embarrassed him to have spoken of his wife at all.

      “Mr. Callister,” she said softly, waiting until he turned to continue. “I lost…some people three months ago. I understand grief.”

      He hesitated. “How did they die?”

      Her face closed up. “It was…an accident. They were only in their twenties. I thought they had years left.”

      “Life is unpredictable,” he told her. “Sometimes unbearable. But everything passes. Even bad times.”

      “Yes, that’s what everyone says,” she agreed.

      They shared a long, quiet, puzzling exchange of sorrow before he shrugged and turned away, leaving her to her work.

      Chapter 2

      Kasie was almost tearing her hair out by the next afternoon. John’s mail was straightforward, mostly about show dates and cancellations, transportation for the animals and personal correspondence. Gil’s was something else.

      Gil not only ran the ranch, but he dealt with the majority of the support companies that were its satellites. He knew all the managers by first names, he often spoke with state and federal officials, including well-known senators, on legislation affecting beef production. Besides that, he was involved in the scientific study of new grasses and earth-friendly pesticides and fertilizers. He worked with resource and conservation groups, even an animal rights group; since he didn’t run slaughter cattle and was rabidly proconservation, at least one group was happy to have his name on its board of directors. He was a powerhouse of energy, working from dawn until well after dark. The problem was, every single task he undertook was accompanied by a ton of paperwork. And his part-time secretary, Pauline Raines, was the most disorganized human being Kasie had ever encountered.

      John came home late on Friday evening, and was surprised to find Kasie still at work in the study.

      He scowled as he tossed his Stetson onto a rack. “What are you doing in here? It’s almost ten o’clock! Does Gil know you’re working this much overtime?”

      She glanced up from the second page of ten that she was trying to type into the computer. None of Pauline’s paperwork had ever been keyed in.

      She held up the sheaf of paperwork in six files with a sigh. “I think of it as job security,” she offered.

      He moved around beside the desk and looked over what she was doing. “Good God, he’s not sane!” he muttered. “No one secretary could handle this load in a week! Is he trying to kill you?”

      “Pauline hurt her thumb,” she said miserably. “I get to do her work, too, except that she never put any of the records into the computer. It’s got to be done. I don’t see how your brother ever found anything in here!”

      “He didn’t,” John said dryly, his pale eyes twinkling. “Pauline made sure of it. She’s indispensable, I hear.”

      Kasie’s eyes narrowed. “She won’t be for long, when I get this stuff keyed in,” she assured him.

      “Don’t tell her that unless you pay up your life insurance first. Pauline is a girl who carries grudges, and she’s stuck on Gil.”

      “I noticed.”

      “Not that he cares,” John added slowly. “He never got over losing his wife. I’m not sure that he’ll ever remarry.”

      “He told me.”

      He glanced down at her. “Excuse me?”

      “He told me specifically that he didn’t want a mother for the girls or a new wife, and not to get my hopes up.” She chuckled. “Good Lord, he must be all of thirty-two. I’m barely twenty-two. I don’t want a man I’ll have to push around in a wheelchair one day!”

      “And I don’t rob cradles,” came a harsh, angry voice from the doorway.

      They both jumped as they looked up to see Gil just coming in from the barn. He was still in work clothes, chaps and boots and a sweaty shirt, with a disreputable old black Stetson cocked over one eye.

      “Are you trying to make Kasie quit, by any chance?” John challenged. “Good God, man, it’ll take her a week just to get a fraction of the information in these spreadsheets into the computer!”

      Gil frowned. He pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair. “I didn’t actually look at it,” he confessed. “I’ve been too busy with the new bulls.”

      “Well, you’d better look,” John said curtly.

      Gil moved to the desk, aware of Kasie’s hostile glare. He peered over her shoulder and cursed sharply. “Where did all this come from?” he asked.

      “Pauline brought it to me and said you wanted it converted to disk,” she replied flatly.

      His eyes began to glitter. “I never told her to land you with all this!”

      “It needs doing,” she confessed. “There’s no way you can do an accurate spreadsheet without the comparisons you could use in a computer program. I’ve reworked this spreadsheet program,” she said, indicating the screen, “and made an application that will work for cattle weight gain ratios and daily weighing, as well as diet and health and so forth.”

      “I’m impressed,” Gil said honestly.

      “It’s what I’m used to doing. Taxes aren’t,” she added sheepishly.

      “Don’t look at me,” John said. “I hate taxes. I’m not learning them, either,” he added belligerently. “Half this ranch is mine, and on my half, we don’t do tax work.” He nodded curtly and walked out.

      “Come back here, you coward!” Gil muttered. “How the hell am I supposed to cope with taxes and all the other routine headaches that you don’t have, because you’re off somewhere showing cattle!”

      John just waved his hand and kept walking.

      “Miss Parsons knows taxes inside out,” Kasie ventured. “She told me she used to be an accountant.”

      He glared at her. “Miss Parsons was hired to take care of my daughters.” He kept looking at Kasie, and not in any friendly way. It was almost as if he knew…

      She flushed. “They couldn’t get the little paper ship to float on the fish pond,” she murmured uneasily, not looking at him. “I only helped.”

      “And fell in the pond.”

      She grimaced. “I tripped. Anybody can trip!” she added in a challenging tone, her gray eyes flashing at him.

      “Over their own feet?” he mused.

      Actually it had been over Bess’s stuffed gorilla. The thing was almost her size and Kasie hadn’t realized it was there. The girls had laughed and then wailed, thinking she’d be angry at them. Miss Parsons had fussed for hours when Bess got dirt on her pretty yellow dress. But Kasie didn’t scold. She laughed, and the girls were so relieved, she could have cried. They really didn’t like Miss Parsons.

      He put both hands


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