Gift of Gold

thought for the hundredth time. She had no business judging him. A man was free to scatter his talent and ambition to the winds if that’s what he chose to do. She had better things to do than try to save him from a wasted future. He wouldn’t thank her for the effort, anyway. He had made that perfectly clear.
    Just as her father had made it clear that he wanted to be footloose and fancy free to squander his literary talent on throwaway paperbacks with titles such as
Lone Star Ranger
and
Trouble at Silver Creek.
    Verity knew her father well enough to know that he had no real concept of home, at least not in the sense that she had always understood the term. She would save herself a lot of energy and grief if she accepted right from the beginning the fact that Jonas Quarrel was out of the same mold.
    She watched the lights in Jonas’s cabin as her thoughts drifted back over the evening spent with Caitlin Evanger. There was something fascinating about that woman. Verity had never met anyone quite like her.
    Caitlin was a woman to be admired. Strong, courageous, brilliant, hardworking, and successful. It was obvious that Caitlin had no particular use for men in her life. A good role model all the way around, Verity thought wryly. Verity was willing to bet that if Caitlin ever took lovers, she didn’t allow herself to get tangled up in the webs men liked to weave. Caitlin would laugh at male promises and masculine persuasion. She would always keep her priorities straight.
    Verity knew that she owed it to herself to take a leaf out of Caitlin’s book. For the past twenty-eight years she’d done a fairly good job of keeping her own priorities straight. If she was wise, she would not let one Jonas Quarrel, dishwasher and Ph.D., distract her.
    But there was something infinitely compelling about this particular dishwasher. Too compelling by far.
    A shadow moved behind the curtain in Jonas’s window. He was going into the kitchen. Verity hesitated a moment longer, thinking, then she made up her mind. She went to the closet and pulled out a long wool coat that came to her knees. Belting it on over her flannel nightgown, she reached for a pair of loafers.
    There were ghosts in Jonas’s soul. She had known that from the moment she had first set eyes on him. She’d had no right to taunt those specters tonight, regardless of her feelings on the subject of shiftless, footloose males. Her employee deserved an apology.
    A few minutes later Verity stood on Jonas’s front step, the chilled breeze whipping the hem of her nightgown beneath her coat. She raised her hand, hesitated, then knocked tentatively.
    The door opened a few seconds later. Jonas stood silhouetted in the light, a glass in his hand. For an instant he just stared down at her, an unreadable expression flickering over his hard face. Then his gaze turned sardonic. He gave her a skewed smile and took a long swallow of his drink.
    “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ll bet you’re not here to throw me down onto the bed and make wild, passionate love to me, right?”
    Verity felt most of her good intentions hardening into irritated resolve. “I came to apologize,” she got out between set teeth.
    He blinked, his dark lashes concealing the look in his eyes. “No kidding? Hold on while I switch on a tape-recorder. I want to make sure I get this down for the benefit of future historians. Tyrants almost never apologize.”
    “Look, if you’re unable to be civilized about this, I’ll just skip the whole thing and go back to bed.”
    He stepped back and held open the door. “Better come in and say hello to your father, first. We were just about to flip a coin to see who gets the bed.”
    Verity nearly tripped over the threshold. “My father! He’s here?”
    “In the flesh, Red.” Emerson Ames appeared behind Jonas, a lot of teeth showing between his mustache and beard. He held open his arms. “How’s business, kid?”
    “Dad, for crying out loud. I thought you were in Brazil.” Verity laughed and stepped into her father’s bear hug of an embrace. “Where have you been? I went down to Mexico two months ago to spend some time with you and no one knew where you were. I searched for you for three days, you big idiot, before someone finally said he thought you had gone to Rio. Why did you invite me to Puerto Vallerta if you had plans to leave town before I got there?”
    “Something came up, Red. A trifling misunderstanding concerning money. You know how it