The Rancher's Mistress. Kay Thorpe

be all they should be, but, the way she so obviously felt about him, she would be devastated if he did up and leave. That surely had to be taken into account.

      Submerged in her thoughts, Alex started when one subject of them dropped into the chair recently vacated.

      ‘Feeling the effects?’ asked Margot sympathetically. ‘I’ve never flown the Atlantic myself, but I can imagine what it’s like to have all those hours’ difference. What time will it be in England now?’

      Glancing at the watch she had altered on the domestic flight from Denver, Alex did a quick calculation. ‘Around five in the morning,’ she hazarded, suddenly aware of it now. ‘I’ve been on the go more than twenty-four hours!’

      ‘Time you got some sleep, then, I’d think.’

      Alex smiled at her. ‘I think you’re right. I want to be fresh for the morning.’

      ‘Greg might not be around until evening, but I’ll be here if you’d like some company.’

      ‘I’d be glad of it. I’ve never been on a working ranch before. I’ve never been on any kind of ranch before, if it comes to that. It’s all quite new to me.’

      ‘You have some big farms in England, though, don’t you? I’d have thought they were much the same kind of thing.’

      ‘The biggest would hardly fill a corner of this spread. They don’t use horses either—not for moving the cattle, at any rate. It’s a whole different world.’ Alex paused a moment, viewing the interest in the youthfully lovely face opposite. ‘Greg must bring you over to visit,’ she said on impulse. ‘My flat isn’t very big but we’d manage.’

      ‘I’d love it!’ Margot sounded genuinely enthusiastic. ‘I always wanted to visit England.’

      If Margot and Greg did come over, it was hardly going to be in the immediate future, Alex told herself. Time enough to get her life back in order first. Not that she imagined either of them would condemn her out of hand even if they did discover her secret. Cal was the only one likely to give no quarter.

      She smothered an involuntary yawn with the back of her hand, aware of weariness infiltrating both body and mind. ‘I’d better go on up before I fall asleep right here.’

      ‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Margot. ‘Nobody keeps late hours. Early morning is the best time of day.’

      Alex could agree with that. She had never been one for sleeping in herself. A few hours’ sleep and she would be ready to tackle anything—including Cal Forrester!

      Others were already drifting away. Engrossed in conversation with one of the guests, Greg spared her the briefest attention when she paused to say goodnight.

      ‘See you in a little while, honey,’ he added to Margot, at her back. ‘Charlie’s giving me the low-down on the insurance business.’

      ‘Good line to be in,’ said Charlie. ‘Sure has been for me, at any rate. Way to go!’

      For him, perhaps, Alex reflected, catching the expression in her brother’s eyes and hoping he wasn’t already contemplating a change of direction. Ranch life may not have turned out to be all he had anticipated, but the Lazy Y was Margot’s home. Two months was hardly a fair trial, in any case.

      She was reading too much into too little again, she chided herself, continuing on her way indoors. After eight years she could hardly hope to know her brother’s mind on any level.

      There was no sign of Cal inside. No sign of anyone, if it came to that. Margot said goodnight at the top of the stairs, looking, Alex thought, a little too determinedly cheerful. How many times, she wondered, had Greg left his wife to come to bed on her own like this?

      ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing more of the ranch tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we could take a ride together. Not too far, though,’ she added laughingly. ‘I need to take it in easy stages.’

      ‘Right after breakfast,’ Margot promised, obviously only too ready to fall in with whatever was proposed. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Alex,’ she added impulsively.

      ‘So am I.’ Alex leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her sister-in-law’s cheek. ‘See you in the morning. Bright and early!’

      The door to Cal’s room was firmly closed. Whether he was in there or not there was no way of knowing. If he was, and asleep already, it was unlikely that any small noise was going to waken him but, nevertheless, Alex found herself tiptoeing around the bedroom as she unpacked.

      Would he sleep in pyjamas? she found herself wondering, and had a sudden vivid impression of that long, lean body minus anything at all, bringing her to an abrupt stop in the act of easing open a drawer to stow away some clothing. She was hardly in the habit of indulging in lewd thoughts about men—for the most part she preferred not to think of them at all these days—but there was something about Cal Forrester that stirred her baser instincts: something that liking had little to do with.

      Dangerous only if she allowed it to be, she told herself hardily, stuffing undies into the half-open drawer, and that she had no intention of doing.

      

      She awoke to daylight and a feeling of well-being that lasted only as long as it took her to register the position of the hands on the bedside clock. Nine-thirty! The day was half over!

      Flinging back the bedclothes, she slid her feet into the neat black mules she used as slippers and reached for the light cotton wrap she had left over the end of the bed. Breakfast would be long over by now, the all-day party miles out on the trail. With any luck, Cal would be off the homestead too. She would hate to face that derisive smile of his when she finally got downstairs.

      Showered, and dressed in jeans and blue chambray shirt, she tied her hair back from her face with a pale blue scarf and applied a hasty smear of lipstick before leaving the room. Better late than never, she told herself, but it wasn’t convincing.

      One of the youngish women who had served supper was crossing the wide hall as Alex descended the stairs. She paused on sight of her.

      ‘Didn’t realise you were up yet,’ she said without censure. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’

      ‘Just coffee will be fine, thanks,’ Alex responded, unwilling to put the woman to any trouble when she must have other things to do. ‘You’re Janet, aren’t you?’

      ‘That’s right. Janet Leeson. You can’t go till lunchtime on just coffee,’ she added. ‘I’ll fetch you some pancakes and syrup.’

      ‘I’d be happier with toast,’ Alex conceded. ‘Quite happy to do it myself too. You don’t have to wait on me.’

      Janet lifted her shoulders in a cheerful shrug. ‘It’s what I’m paid for, honey. Anyway, Buck doesn’t like folk invading his kitchen. You take yourself out on the veranda and I’ll bring it to you. Too good a morning to hang about indoors.’

      And had been for some time, thought Alex , ruefully, moving to obey the injunction as the older woman turned back the way she had come. At least she felt fully rested. After ten full hours’ sleep she should do too!

      There was no sign of Margot when she stepped onto the veranda. The mountains were etched against a sky of cobalt blue, the sun a blazing orb already high overhead. From the step she looked out over the corrals to the rolling grasslands beyond, glimpsing water through the belt of trees a quarter of a mile or so away. Having a river running right through Lazy Y land had to make it a particularly valuable property, she reckoned.

      Life here must be pretty good all round, although the winters would be far more severe than anything she had ever experienced, with snow feet rather than mere inches deep. Even then there would be compensations such as skiing right on the doorstep, for instance. Not that she could ski, but given the incentive...

      ‘So you made it,’ commented a fast becoming familiar voice behind her, making muscle and sinew tense