Texas Proud and Circle of Gold (Long, Tall Texans #52) - Diana Palmer Page 0,92
worked at the ranch office near the front of the house three days a week, and Kasie had already inherited a good deal of her work. Pauline spent her time by the pool when Gil wasn’t watching. Now, Kasie thought miserably, she was going to end up doing not only John’s paperwork, including the unbelievably complex taxes that she was still struggling to understand, but Gil’s as well.
“I don’t guess she could type with her toes?” she murmured absently.
There was an odd sound, but when she looked up, Gil’s hard face was impassive. “How long will it take?” he persisted.
She looked at the pages. They weren’t data, as she’d first thought, but letters to various stock producers. They all had different headings, but the same basic body. “Is this all?” she asked with cool politeness.
He glowered at her. “There are fifty of them. They’ll have to be done individually...”
“No, they won’t,” she said gently. “All you have to do—” she opened a new file, selected the option she needed and began typing “—is type the body of the letter once and then just type the various addresses and combine them. An hour’s work.”
He looked as if he’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”
“This word processor does all that for you,” she explained. “It’s very simple, really.”
He looked angry. “I thought you had to type all fifty individually.”
“Only if you’re using a prehistoric typewriter and carbon system,” she pointed out.
He was really angry now. “An hour?” he repeated.
She nodded. “Maybe less. I’ll get right on it,” she added quickly, hoping to appease him. Heaven only knew what had set him off, but she recognized that glitter in his eyes.
He left her and went to make some phone calls. When he came back, Kasie was printing the letters out, having just finished the mailing labels. There was a folding machine that made short work of folding the letters. Then all she had to do was stuff, lick, stamp and mail the envelopes.
Gil put on the stamps for her. He watched her curiously. Once, when she looked up into his eyes, it was like an electric shock. Surprised, she dropped her gaze and blushed. Really, she thought, he had a strange effect on her.
“How do you like your job so far?” he asked.
“Very much,” she said. “Except for the taxes.”
“You’ll get used to doing them,” he assured her.
“I suppose so.”
“Can you manage John’s load and mine as well, or do you want me to get a temporary to help you?”
“There isn’t a lot,” she pointed out. “If I get overwhelmed, I’ll say so.”
He finished stamping the envelopes and stacked them neatly to one side. “You’re very honest. It’s unusual in most people.” He touched a stamp with a floral motif. “My wife was like that.” He smiled. “She said that lies were a waste of time, since they got found out anyway.” His eyes were far away. “We were in grammar school together. We always knew that we’d marry one day.” The smile faded into misery. “She was a wonderful rider. She rode in the rodeo when she was younger. But a gentle horse ran away with her and a low-lying limb ended her life. Jenny was only a year old when Darlene died. Bess was two. I thought my life was over, too.”
Kasie didn’t know what to say. It shocked her that a man like Gil would even discuss something so personal with a stranger. Of course, a lot of people discussed even more personal things with Kasie. Maybe she had that sort of face that attracted confidences.
“Do the girls look like her?” she asked daringly.
“Bess does. She was blond and blue-eyed. She wasn’t beautiful, but her smile was.” His eyes narrowed in painful memory. “They had to sedate me to make me let go of her. I wouldn’t believe them, even when they swore to me that no means on earth could save her...” His fingers clenched on top of the envelope and he moved his hand away at once and stood up. “Thanks, Kasie,” he said curtly, turning away, as if it embarrassed him to have spoken of his wife at all.
“Mr. Callister,” she said softly, waiting until he turned to continue. “I lost...some people three months ago. I understand grief.”
He hesitated. “How did they die?”
Her face closed up. “It was...an accident. They were only in their twenties. I thought they had years left.”
“Life is unpredictable,” he told her. “Sometimes unbearable. But everything passes. Even bad times.”