Wyoming Winter. Diana Palmer
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thought she was perfect. I fell head over heels in love the first night. She could turn me inside out. She was like a drug, an addiction. I’d never known so much pleasure.”
She was jealous, but she didn’t let on. She just listened.
He was lost in the past, drowning in misery. “We went around together for weeks. I took her to the opera, the theater, to symphony concerts. Even to a rock concert. I bought her designer clothing and diamonds. She really seemed to love me. I certainly loved her.”
His fingers were hurting, but she didn’t move, didn’t speak.
“It was her birthday. I’d bought her a sapphire necklace she’d admired at a high-end jewelry store and I went to her apartment to give it to her. The door was open. She was talking to a male friend who was with her. She was talking about me, about how stupid and gullible I was, about how she’d scammed me into buying her all sorts of expensive presents. She thought it was hilarious. I didn’t even have enough sophistication to realize that she was a call girl, that she sold her body for money.”
“What a miserable human being,” she said quietly.
He laughed. It had a hollow sound. “She was right. I was naive. But I grew up very suddenly. I opened the door and walked in. She was wearing a negligee, almost transparent, and her companion had on nothing except his underwear. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me and realized what I’d overheard. I didn’t say a word. I turned around and walked out.”
“Did she try to call you?” she wondered.
“She asked one of my friends to tell me she was sorry and that she’d like to start over. I told him where she could go, and how fast. I never saw her again.”
“I really do live a sheltered life,” she remarked after a minute. “I didn’t know there were people like that in the world. I don’t really understand greed. I’ve never felt it.”
“I noticed that about you.”
She smiled. “I like simple things. Flower gardens. Kittens. Just walking in the woods. Stuff like that. I’ve never liked diamonds or fancy jewelry, or fancy clothes. It’s not me.”
He loosened the tight grip of his fingers. They became caressing. “You’re nothing like her.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated. “I think.”
He laughed. “It was a compliment.”
“Okay.”
He glanced at her curiously. “I’ve never talked about her. Or about my parents.”
“I never repeat anything I’m told. I work as a legal administrative assistant,” she added. “Even though I just basically answer the phone and take dictation, I’ve been trained to keep my mouth shut. I guess it carries over to my private life.”
“I guess.” He smiled. “You’re a good listener.”
“Sometimes people just need to talk. That’s what Daddy says. He went to see a man who was suicidal. The man put down the gun he was holding and walked out of the room with Daddy. The place was surrounded with police, even a SWAT team. They all just gawked. They asked Daddy how he talked the man out of it, and he said he didn’t say a word. He just listened. That was all the poor soul needed, somebody to just listen. He’d lost his wife and child in a wreck and he didn’t think he could go on. He had nobody to talk to. So Daddy just listened.”
“You listen, too, Colie. It’s a bigger help than you realize.” His mouth pulled to one side. “I don’t have anyone of my own,” he added quietly.
“Yes, you do,” she said boldly, and curled her fingers around his, without looking at him.
He couldn’t have imagined anyone getting a hold on his heart this quickly, but she’d managed it. She’d become the color in his life, in a space of only weeks. For her own sake, he should let her go. But he couldn’t.
* * *
HE WALKED HER to her door. The porch light was on. There was still a light burning in her father’s study. He’d be working on Sunday’s sermon, she knew. He spent days putting just the right words together.
“Your dad’s waiting up for you,” he mused.
She laughed. “Not really. He works on his Sunday sermon a little every night, until he has it the way he wants it.”
“He looks out for you, too, though.” He touched her short, wavy hair. “I’ll bet he’s never taken a drink in his life,” he said, with more bitterness than he realized.
“No,” she agreed. “He doesn’t drink or smoke. He says addictions are much too dangerous. It’s better not to acquire them.”
“He has a point.” He bent and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t drink or smoke, either. Well, I have a beer occasionally. Never any hard liquor.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted liquor,” she confessed.
“Just as well.” He bent and brushed his mouth gently over hers. “I enjoyed tonight.”
“I did, too.”
He drew back all too soon. He put his hands on her shoulders and just looked at her. “I’m going to be out of town for several days.” His mouth pulled to one side. “Ren signed me up for a gadget convention—new toys for ranch security. I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Just Denver,” he said. “Not too far away. Stay out of trouble until I get back.”
She laughed. Her eyes lit up when she did that. “Okay.”
“Not that you ever get in trouble in the first place,” he mused.
“I wouldn’t dare,” she said in a stage whisper, indicating the house behind her.
He smiled. “We might see a movie when I come back.”
“There’s that new science fiction one opening next week,” she pointed out. They’d discussed it on the way to Lander.
“We’ll go, then. See you.”
“See you.”
He walked away. She noticed that he never looked back. She wondered why. It seemed to be a long-standing habit.
She went inside and put up her coat and purse. She tapped on the door of her father’s study and opened it.
He looked up from his notes. He smiled. “Did you have a good time?”
“I did. I won enough to catch up the bills.” She grinned at his expression. “I know, it’s sinful money. But it will be very useful for the electric bill.” She struck a pose. “If it wasn’t meant to happen, I’d have lost every penny.”
He laughed. “All right. I won’t say anything.” He was looking at her intently. After a minute he turned his attention back to his notes. “Sleep good.”
“You, too. Night.”
She closed the door.
Her father was wise enough to notice that she hadn’t indulged in any heavy petting with J.C. Such signs were quite visible. It gave him a little hope. J.C. might not turn out to be as bad an influence as he’d feared.
* * *
THE WEEK DRAGGED BY. Colie typed up briefs, printed them out, took dictation, scheduled clients, helped open mail and generally buried herself in work to keep J.C. out of her mind.
“You’re daydreaming, girl,” Lucy, her coworker teased. “It’s that handsome man from the Yukon, isn’t it?”
She didn’t deny it. “Small towns,” she laughed, shaking her head.
“Well, my cousin runs the filling station where J.C. buys gas and he mentioned