Montana Sky

Casually, she took her gloves out of her saddlebags. “And see if you can sweet-talk Bess into making some peach ice cream. She’ll do it for you, and I’ve got a yen for some.”
    He wasn’t a fool, knew just what she was doing. “I’m stringing wire here, girl.”
    “No.” She hefted the roll as Billy watched, wide-eyed and fascinated. “I’m stringing wire here. You’re going to take Moon back in, get those stock reports in my office, and see about peach ice cream.”
    He tossed his cup on the ground, planted his feet. “The hell with that. Take her back yourself.”
    She set the roll down. “I run Mercy, Ham, and I’m telling you what I want you to do. You got a problem with that, we’ll take it up later. But now, you ride back and do what I’m telling you.”
    His face was redder now, making her pulse skittish, but she kept her eyes cool and level with his. After ten humming seconds, with the heat crippling both of them, he turned stiffly away and mounted.
    “You think I can’t do the job this half-assed boy can do, then you get my paycheck ready.” He kicked the horse, sent Moon into a surprised rear, then galloped off.
    “Jeez” was all Billy could think of.
    “Damn it, I should have handled that better.” She rubbed her hands over her face.
    “He’ll be all right, Will. He doesn’t mean it. Ham’d never leave you or Mercy.”
    “That’s not what I’m worried about.” She blew out a breath. “Let’s get this damn wire strung.”
     
    S HE WAITED UNTIL NIGHTFALL . CANCELED A DATE WITH Ben, and sat out on the front porch. She heard the thunder, watched lightning flash, but the sky was too clear for rain.
    Despite the heat she had no taste for the ice cream Bess had churned. Even when Tess came out with a bowl heaped full of it, Willa shook her head.
    “You’ve been sulking since you came in today.” Tess leaned against the porch rail and tried to imagine cool ocean breezes. “Want to talk about it?”
    “No. It’s a personal problem.”
    “They’re the most interesting.” Philosophically, Tess spooned up some ice cream and sampled it. “Ben?”
    “No.” Willa gave an irritated shrug. “Why is it people think every personal thought in my head revolves around Ben McKinnon?”
    “Because women usually do their best sulking over a man. You didn’t have a fight with him?”
    “I’m always fighting with him.”
    “I mean a real fight.”
    “No.”
    “Then why did you cancel your date?”
    “Jesus Christ, can’t I choose to stay home on my own porch one night without answering a bunch of questions?”
    “Guess not.” Tess dug out another spoonful. “This is great stuff.” Licked the spoon clean. “Come on, try it.”
    “If it’ll get you off my back.” With little grace, Willa grabbed the bowl and scooped some up. It was sheer heaven. “Bess makes the best peach ice cream in the civilized world.”
    “I tend to agree with you. Want to eat ice cream, get drunk, and take a swim? Sounds like a great way to cool off.”
    Willa’s eyes slitted with suspicion. “Why are you so friendly?”
    “You look really bummed. I guess I’m feeling sorry for you.”
    It should have annoyed her. Instead it touched her. “I had words with Ham today. He was out stringing wire and I got spooked. He looked so old all of a sudden, and it was so blasted hot. I thought he’d have a stroke or something. A heart attack. I made him come back in, and that slapped his pride flat. I just can’t lose anybody else,” she said quietly. “Not right now. Not yet.”
    “His pride will bounce back. Maybe you dented it a little, but he’s too devoted to you to stay mad for long.”
    “I’m counting on it.” Soothed, she handed the bowl back to Tess. “Maybe I’ll come in shortly and take that swim.”
    “All right.” Tess opened the screen, shot back a grin. “But I’m not wearing a suit.”
    Chuckling, Willa eased back in the rocker, let it creak. Thunder rumbled, a little closer now. And she heard thecrunch of boots on stone. She sat up, one hand going under the chair where her rifle rested. She brought it back up, laid it in her lap when Ham stepped into the light.
    “Evening,” she said.
    “Evening. You got my check?”
    Stubborn old goat, she thought, and gestured to the chair beside her. “Would you sit down a minute?”
    “I got packing to do.”
    “Please.”
    Bandy legs stiff as a week-old wishbone, he climbed the steps, lowered himself into the next rocker.