Whispers of the Heart (3 page)

“Then ride your horse around here. Good gracious, Dalian! You have two hundred acres if you need to clear your head. Riding through the mountains at this time of year is foolish, at best. It’ll take you a good month just to get there. And let’s say that you do manage to make it to Montana without injury to you or your horse, what good is it going to do you if your mother
does
refuse to see you? You’ll be stuck out there with your horse and no way to get home. Why don’t you at least buy a ticket and that way if things go sour, you’ll have a way back.”

“Why don’t I just book a hotel room, and then if my mother refuses to see me, I can just hang out...never mind.” Dalian sighed, “Okay, Harvey. I’ll ride into town today to purchase passage for me and Swift – just in case.”

Harvey smiled, “Smart decision. I’ll hold things together here, until you get back.”

“I know you will. It should be easy enough since we don’t open the dude ranch until spring. The biggest concern you’ll face is getting the cattle to market. Placing that burden solely on your shoulders does give me a pang of guilt.” Dalian grinned.

“Oh, I’ll just bet it does,” Harvey quipped. “Still, we have enough hands to see them safely there, and I’d say our timing is decent too. Checked the price per head this morning and it’s on the upswing.”

“What’s our estimate?”

“$215 per head.”

“Decent, but prices sure haven’t gone up much over the last few decades. Twenty years ago it was sitting around $184 a head.”

“Yeah, well it’s better than a poke in the eye.”

“True.” Dalian handed the requisitions across the desk. Harvey took them, and stood to leave. Dalian noticed a renewed hesitation and spoke before Harvey could. “My mother never had a choice but to let me go. You know that.”

“Do
you
know that?” Harvey countered, took his hat and jammed it on his head, then left the house.

“She didn’t have a choice,” Dalian repeated to the empty room. “I only wish I knew
why
she didn’t have a choice.”

“Dalian! Wait!”

Dalian pulled Swift to a halt and turned the reins back toward the house. He sought out and found the person calling him, and then wished he hadn’t. Marsha Canton was running down the drive toward him. When she reached his side, her breathing was exaggeratedly shallow. He sighed. He knew it was an act, for she was in top physical shape. He also knew why she pretended exhaustion, for the heavy breathing drew his attention to her well-endowed assets; assets that would topple from her low-cut t-shirt if she bent too far over. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, she supposed that drawing attention to her physical attributes would impress him. It didn’t. He liked his women to be confident, intelligent,
over
twenty, and beautiful – foremost on the inside. Like Carolyn had been.

“I’m glad I caught you,” Martha huffed, placing her hand on her chest, another ploy to divert his gaze. He kept his gaze firmly on hers.

“Marsha,” Dalian said, tipping his hat respectfully. “What can I do for you?”

“I came over to see if Mrs. Guthrie could use a hand with the cooking and cleaning,” she said, smiling shyly, “and saw you leaving.”

“Doesn’t your father give you enough chores to occupy your time, Marsha?”

“Oh, but we have plenty of help to take care of things over at our place, and poor Mrs. Guthrie is all alone here.”

Dalian sighed again. Would she never stop trying to make him feel discomfited for evidently understaffing his household? Well, he certainly wasn’t going to offer her employment, or worse, propose marriage to her. If Mrs. Guthrie felt overwhelmed, she’d say something and he’d hire on additional help, as he did when the dude ranch opened to visitors in the spring. “So why are you glad you caught me, if you came here to see Mrs. Guthrie?”

“Well, I ran into Harvey and he said you were going on vacation.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to say goodbye and let you know I’ll miss you.”

Dalian arched his brow.
Now that was blunt,
he thought. Prior to now, she’d only hinted at her affections. “I’m sure I’ll see you when I get back, Marsha.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely be here. Of course, if you think you’ll miss having company, I can always ask my dad to let me go with you.”

Uh-oh, more directness. Something is up, and I bet it has to do with her father.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he said yes,” he muttered.

“Does that mean?”

“No, it doesn’t mean. Go on home, Marsha. I’m sure Mrs. Guthrie has everything under control at the house and since I’ll be gone for several months...”

“Several months!”

“Yes, several months. Maybe by then your father will find you a decent-aged fellow and you’ll be happily wed before I get back.”

“That’s not funny, Dalian. You know I only have eyes for you.”

Oh, Lord. She’s really going for broke today.
“Listening to your
Greatest Hits of the Eighties
CD again?”

“You shouldn’t make fun of me, Dalian. It isn’t right.” She placed a faux pout on her too-thin lips, “Especially when you know how I feel about you.”

Well, she finally spoke what I always suspected aloud. Her father must be getting desperate.
“Listen, Marsha. You may
think
you know how you feel, but there is a huge difference between lust and love; although I highly doubt you feel either one for me. However, once you’ve found the right man, you’ll see that what you think you felt for me was nothing more than hormones run amok.”

“That isn’t true. I know what love is.”

“All teenagers think they know what love is, but they don’t. Not really.”

“How can you say that, Dalian? You know I’d do anything for you.”

“That isn’t love, Marsha.”

“What makes you think I don’t love you, Dalian? You can’t see inside my heart.”

“Because of how hard you try to get my attention.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And I don’t have the time to explain it to you. I need to get going, but do us both a favor, will you?”

“What’s that?” Marsha huffed, the exaggerated pout more pronounced.

“Go back to your dad and tell him he’ll have to find another way of laying claim to my land and to stop wasting his time, and yours, on trying to snare me. I’m not on the market and neither is my property.”

“That’s just plain wrong, Dalian.” Marsha stomped her tennis shoe lightly on the ground and Dalian shook his head in wonder.

She’s such a child,
he thought, but refrained from speaking it aloud. He wasn’t in the habit of deliberately hurting children. Instead, he just shrugged
.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll make a deal with you, Marsha. Come see me in ten years. If you still feel the same way after growing up a bit, I’ll give you a second look.”

“You don’t really think I’m going to wait ten years for you, do you, Dalian Rivers? Well, I’m not. In ten years, you’ll be kicking yourself in the ass for not catching
me
when you could. You know what? Go on your stupid vacation, and I hope you never come back. I don’t care if I never see your ugly mug again,” Marsha huffed, turning and heading back toward the house.

“I only wished it was that easy to get rid of you, Marsha,” Dalian whispered to her retreating back, “but something tells me you’ll be back the very day I return. Unfortunately, your dad wants my land too much to quit that easily.

March 2061

Covington, Georgia

“The book signing is set for next week,” Janet said, settling in across from Kathryn. “Honestly, Kat, I think this is one of your best yet. It’s only been out for a month, and already it’s receiving rave reviews. Good work!”

“Hello to you too, Janet,” Kathryn said. “I’m glad that the book is being well-received.” She pulled out her pocket calendar from her purse and flipped it open. “Days and times on the book signing?”

“Next Tuesday through Thursday at the Reader’s Nook bookstore around the corner,” Janet said, consulting her own calendar. “Two o’clock to four o’clock each day. I’ll have information on your book tour later this afternoon. I’m just waiting to hear back from
Covington
Today
.”

“Okay,” Kathryn said, slipping her calendar back into her handbag. “Perhaps one day though, you’ll see fit to ask me
before
actually scheduling anything. Just in case.”

“Why? It’s not as if you ever do anything, anyway. Except write, that is.”

“Funny.”

“True.”

“Well, I may have been that way once, but no longer,” Kathryn said. “In fact, I’ll be leaving week-after-next on an extended vacation.”

“Knowing you, you’ll take your laptop and continue pounding away on whatever idea you come up with while you’re away.”

“Possibly, or maybe I’ll actually put writing behind me for a change and take an honest to goodness holiday,” Kathryn quipped.

“Doubt it! Now, when did you say this so-called vacation of yours was going to take place?” Janet asked, pulling her electronic organizer from her briefcase.

“Week after next,” Kat said.

“Oh, that’s just great! I was hoping to get you on the
Covington Today
show week-after-next. Perhaps you need to be filling me in on your forays before
I
start scheduling things. Maybe I can get in touch with Tara. See if she can’t squeeze you in next week, or maybe we can do it after you get back. How long will you be gone?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks! Where are you going? An African safari? Now I’ll definitely have to schedule a bulk of your promotional tours next week, so you better prepare to stay busy.”

“I will, Janet. I promise.”

“Where exactly are you going that has to take eight weeks, anyway?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Now, that’s an odd thing to say.”

“You will.”

“Well, fine! Tell me, I’ll laugh, and then we can finish our conversation like the grown-ups we pretend to be.”

“Cute.”

“Yes, I know. Peter told me how cute I was last week, but I won’t go into details.”

“A dude ranch, okay?” Kat blurted out.

“A dude what?”

“There’s a ranch out west that caters to extended vacations for people wanting to get away from city-life; to experience the life of a cowhand.”

“Out west. Cowhand.” Janet shook her head as if it would help the information fall into the correct mental location and thus make sense to her. It wasn’t working. Instead, she pinned a Kat with perplexed stare.

“Oh, stop looking at me like I’m the one with no brain. It’s just a dude ranch.”

“A dude ranch.”

“Yes, a dude ranch,” Kat sighed, wondering why she’d even bothered telling her friend, especially when that friend also happened to be her publisher. She should have known that Janet would receive her announcement with sarcasm. “I figure the fresh air and sunshine will do me good.”

“I thought you were over your loss, Kat,” Janet said, leaning back in her chair and eyeing her friend with concern. “Are you saying now that you aren’t? I mean, the man that killed your family is serving twenty-five years for vehicular manslaughter, his trucking company paid you a bundle in restitution...”

“And your point is?”

“My point is that all of that, plus time, was supposed to bring you closure. And now you’re telling me that you need to get away for, not a normal two-week excursion, but eight, whole, freaking weeks.”

“Why is it that you sound upset, Janet? I mean, the last I looked this was still my life, you know.”

“Yes, well, when you write a potential best-seller, it becomes
my
life. At least until I get your book mentioned on every airwave, flying off virtual bookshelves, and as the subject of conversation around every water cooler in every office in America. But I can’t very well do that if you aren’t here to cooperate with my efforts.”

“Wow, Janet,” Kat said in exaggerated awe, “that would sound extremely egocentric if I didn’t know you so well.”

“It’s not being egotistical to want to see you become the successful writer I know you can be. Now if I added that the more successful
you
are, then the richer
I
become,
then
you could accuse me of being self-centered, selfishly motivated...”

“Oh! Do stop being so melodramatic, Janet, I’ve been writing nearly non-stop for the last two years. I’m ready for a break,
okay? And you’re probably right about my taking my computer, so you know that it will in all probability be a working vacation...”

“Are you sleeping well?”

“Of course I am!”

“Then your desire to get away...”