provided Elsa Winchester, the cook, liked you. All others had best stay out of her way, for she ran her kitchen with an autocratic hand.
Jeff deliberately hadn’t gone down for the evening meal. The first reason was that Elsa was a terrific cook. Too terrific. He’d had a big breakfast and a mammoth lunch, at Elsa’s insistence, since she remembered him from his earlier visit and still thought of him as a growing boy. If he added a huge dinner, he’d be taking in as many calories as the cowhands who spent twelve or fourteen hours using up energy while he was doing precious little to work off gigantic meals. The last thing he wanted was to balloon up, so he decided to drop by around the time he figured most of the agents would be either finished or having coffee.
The second reason was that he’d mosied over to the tourist quarters and discovered that Tish Buckner wasn’t staying there. Next he’d cornered the clerk at the front desk of the main house for the real lowdown. Naomi Star had red hair, thick glasses, an infectious smile and knew everyone and everything that went on at the ranch. Jeff had turned on the charm and Naomi had revealed that Tish wasn’t married, was a very private person and, that as far as she knew, Tish was at Red Rock on vacation.
Armed with that knowledge, Jeff sauntered into the dining room around seven just as the sun was streaking the sky outside the cathedral-style windows with gold and orange and magenta strokes before it disappeared behind the mountains. He was in luck for Tish was there, seated between Slim Huxley, the ranch manager, and John Winters, a fortyish, dark-haired agent Jeff had only just met yesterday. The three other chairs at the table were vacant. Of the dozen tables in the room, only two others were occupied.
Tish was deep in conversation with Slim and didn’t notice Jeff’s arrival. Jeff walked to the side board, poured himself a cup of steaming coffee and slowly carried it over to Tish’s table.
Slim was the first to spot him and smiled a welcome. “Join us, won’t you, Jeff?” He glanced toward the swinging kitchen doors. “I know Elsa wouldn’t mind getting you something to eat.” Slim was nearly fifty with laugh lines around his eyes permanently etched into his tan face, a tall man with thinning sandy hair who never gained a pound no matter how much he ate.
“Thanks, Slim, but I’m not hungry.” Jeff pulled out a chair, sat down and greeted John before swinging his gaze to Tish. He saw that she looked puzzled and just a little suspicious.
“I don’t know if you’ve met Tish Buckner, Jeff,” Slim continued, “one of our agents who just arrived for a little R and R. Tish, this is Jeff Kirby. Or should I say Dr. Kirby?”
“Hello.” He smiled at Tish, waiting for her reaction.
“We met this afternoon,” Tish began, acknowledging him with a wry smile. “He’s the cowboy I asked to cool down my horse after a run.” The smile spread to her eyes, which were a shade of coffee brown this evening.
So she could laugh at herself, Jeff thought, pleased. By turning the joke on herself, she’d defrayed the embarrassment.
“You’re kidding!” Slim commented, grinning. “You thought he was a ranch hand?” He laughed out loud while John just smiled. “You’ll have to tell that one to East, Jeff.”
Sipping his coffee, Jeff watched her face, could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. She was wearing a yellow silk blouse tucked into khaki slacks tonight and looked better than anything he’d seen on the dessert table.
“You’re related to Easton Kirby?” she asked, curiosity obviously getting the best of her.
“He’s my father,” Jeff said, then watched confusion wrinkle her brow as she did the math. He was aware that he looked older than twenty-four, but even if he hadn’t, it would be unlikely that East fathered him. “My adoptive father.”
Tish nodded. “I met East some years ago at Condor. He’s a wonderful man.”
“Damn right he is,” John Winters added, rising. “Saved my life back when we worked together years ago.” He reached in his shirt pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “’Scuse me, I’m going outside to grab a smoke.”
Was he the only one feeling the vibes across the table? Jeff wondered as he studied Tish. No, he could tell she felt something, too, the way she’d been looking at him from beneath thick lowered lashes. She dropped her gaze and picked up her cup to drink, then noticed it was empty.
“Can I get you a refill?” Jeff asked, pushing his chair back.
“No, thanks.” She rose, smiling at Slim. “I think I’ll turn in. Five o’clock comes around real fast.”
Slim leaned back in his chair. “I told you, Tish, you don’t need to get moving that early.”
“You promised me a ride in your plane tomorrow morning. I’ll be ready.”
“Okay, then,” Slim said. “Meet me at the hangar ’bout six.”
“Will do. Good night.” She stepped aside as Slim got up and walked toward the side door in the direction of his office, then she raised her eyes to Jeff. “Glad to have met you.”
“Same here. I’ll walk you to your room.”
A slight frown came and went on her forehead. “That’s not necessary, but thanks.”
“Sure it is,” he insisted, falling in step with her as she left the dining room. “Don’t you know there are mountain lions in these parts?”
She ignored that and briskly walked to the elevators in an attempt to discourage him, but Jeff’s long strides had no trouble keeping up. The doors of the car closed, locking them into a forced intimacy.
Instead of facing the front, Jeff faced her. “So, where are you from?”
“The East Coast.”
“Where in the East?”
“New York.” It was apparent that his closeness made her feel uncomfortable, as if he were invading her space. When he raised a hand as if to touch her, she swatted it aside, turning to glare at him. “Didn’t you think I meant what I said earlier about that hand of yours?”
Jeff shrugged, then gave her his best boyish grin. “I like to live dangerously.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you. There’s not much call for a one-handed doctor.” The elevator doors slid open and she stepped around him and out, marching to her room.
Jeff followed and almost bumped into her when she stopped abruptly at her door. “Look at that, we’re neighbors. I’m right across the hall.”
“How fortunate for me. If I need a doctor, I’ll be sure to call.” She slid her card key in, pushed open the door. “Good night, Dr. Kirby.”
His hand on her wrist, gentle but firm, stopped her. “Wait just a minute, Tish. Why are you running off like this? It’s only seven-thirty.” He could feel her pulse go into overtime beneath his thumb as he held her loosely, his eyes on hers as he noticed that she didn’t pull away. “Why don’t we go for a walk? The stars in an Arizona sky night are fantastic.”
Tish let out a long sigh. “Look, we should get something said between us right now. I’m not interested and…”
He stepped closer, so close he could inhale her fragrance. She smelled like wildflowers he’d once picked on a hillside. “Do you want me to show you just how interested I think you are?” Before she could respond, he dropped her wrist and reached up to glide two fingers along her cheek and down the silk of her throat, and watched her eyes darken, her breathing go shallow. Having made his point, he stepped back so she wouldn’t feel as if he had her penned in.
She didn’t move, looking as if she were stunned at her own reaction. Finally, she eased inside and, without a word, quietly closed the door.
Jeff knew she was still there, on the other side of the door, probably leaning against it. You’re interested, Tish, and so am I, he thought, then walked to his own room.