don’t guess she could type with her toes?” she murmured absently.
There was an odd sound, but when she looked up, Gil’s hard face was impassive. “How long will it take?” he persisted.
She looked at the pages. They weren’t data, as she’d first thought, but letters to various stock producers. They all had different headings, but the same basic body. “Is this all?” she asked with cool politeness.
He glowered at her. “There are fifty of them. They’ll have to be done individually…”
“No, they won’t,” she said gently. “All you have to do—” she opened a new file, selected the option she needed and began typing “—is type the body of the letter once and then just type the various addresses and combine them. An hour’s work.”
He looked as if he’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”
“This word processor does all that for you,” she explained. “It’s very simple, really.”
He looked angry. “I thought you had to type all fifty individually.”
“Only if you’re using a prehistoric typewriter and carbon system,” she pointed out.
He was really angry now. “An hour?” he repeated.
She nodded. “Maybe less. I’ll get right on it,” she added quickly, hoping to appease him. Heaven only knew what had set him off, but she recognized that glitter in his eyes.
He left her and went to make some phone calls. When he came back, Kasie was printing the letters out, having just finished the mailing labels. There was a folding machine that made short work of folding the letters. Then all she had to do was stuff, lick, stamp and mail the envelopes.
Gil put on the stamps for her. He watched her curiously. Once, when she looked up into his eyes, it was like an electric shock. Surprised, she dropped her gaze and blushed. Really, she thought, he had a strange effect on her.
“How do you like your job so far?” he asked.
“Very much,” she said. “Except for the taxes.”
“You’ll get used to doing them,” he assured her.
“I suppose so.”
“Can you manage John’s load and mine as well, or do you want me to get a temporary to help you?”
“There isn’t a lot,” she pointed out. “If I get overwhelmed, I’ll say so.”
He finished stamping the envelopes and stacked them neatly to one side. “You’re very honest. It’s unusual in most people.” He touched a stamp with a floral motif. “My wife was like that.” He smiled. “She said that lies were a waste of time, since they got found out anyway.” His eyes were far away. “We were in grammar school together. We always knew that we’d marry one day.” The smile faded into misery. “She was a wonderful rider. She rode in the rodeo when she was younger. But a gentle horse ran away with her and a low-lying limb ended her life. Jenny was only 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 Two
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