It wasn’t just guilt, either. He may think you’re too young, Keely, but he seems to have come to grips with your age.”
Keely smiled. “I’m old for my age,” she said drily.
“And I’ll say amen to that!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BOONE CAME HOME dusty and worn-out, having helped move steers from summer pasture into the holding pens nearby, where they’d be held until they could be shipped to a feedlot for finishing as yearlings.
It was a long, arduous process, and somebody always got hurt. Fortunately, Keely noted, it wasn’t Boone.
“You pay your foreman a fortune to do that job, and then you go out and work like you’re him,” Winnie fussed as he came into Keely’s bedroom after he’d showered.
“I’m not cut out for the life of a gentleman of leisure,” he pointed out, smiling. “How’re you doing, sprout?” he asked Keely.
“Much better,” she assured him. “Have you heard anything from Hayes Carson?”
He shook his head. “He’ll get back in touch with us when he’s got something to say. Meanwhile, stop worrying. You’re safe here.”
She smiled. “I know. It wasn’t that. I just wondered.”
“I’m starved,” he told Winnie. “When are we eating?”
“Mrs. Johnston’s outdone herself,” Winnie replied with a grin. “Beef stew and Mexican corn bread.”
“Worth working all day for,” he said. “I’ll bring yours up,” he told Keely.
“I could come downstairs,” she began.
“Not until Coltrain says you can,” he replied firmly. “We don’t want a relapse, now, do we?”
“I guess not. My arm’s better, though,” she said, moving it gingerly. “The swelling’s gone down a lot.”
“Damned snake,” he muttered.
“That’s exactly what I said when it happened,” Keely assured him.
He grinned. “You do look better.” His eyes slid over the flowered gown. They were bold and possessive.
* * *
THE MEMORY OF that look kept her occupied all through supper. He’d brought it himself, on a tray, to the amusement of Winnie, Clark and Mrs. Johnston, who added a flower in a vase to the tray.
After supper, Winnie went straight to her bedroom to change clothes. Clark went out. Boone changed into pajamas and a robe and came walking into Keely’s bedroom with a file folder in his hand, reading glasses on and a pencil over one ear. He piled into bed with Keely, propping himself up on two of the mound of pillows Mrs. Johnston had brought her. He proceeded to open the folder and read.
Keely was fascinated. “What are you doing?”
“Working on printouts of the breeding program that our cow-and-calf foreman brought me,” he told her. “We breed for certain traits, like low birth weight and lean conformation, and we use computers to make projections for us.” He showed her the information on the pages.
“No. I mean…I mean, what are you doing in here, like that?” She indicated his pajamas and robe.
He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I’m sleeping with you.”
“You are not!” she gasped. “In the first place, I can’t—”
“Sleeping,” he emphasized. “You close your eyes and the next thing you know, it’s morning.”
She relaxed a little, but she was still wary.
“All the doors are open,” he pointed out, nodding toward the hall. “They’ll stay open. Nobody will notice that I’m in here.”
Winnie walked past the doorway and smiled. She stopped suddenly, turned and stared.
Boone glowered at her. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked his sister. “Haven’t you ever seen a man in pajamas and a robe before?”
“You’re in bed with Keely,” she stated. “She’s still fragile,” she added worriedly.
“That’s true, but her father’s friend is something of an escape artist,” he agreed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn-looking Smith & Wesson .38 caliber police special. He put it up again. “Nobody’s getting past me.”
Winnie stopped looking shocked and began to grin. “I get it.”
“Good. While you’re getting things, how about getting Bailey and his bed out of my room and bringing them both in here?” he added. “He’ll start howling if the light goes off and he’s alone in there.”
“He really does,” Winnie told Keely. “He thinks Boone will die if he isn’t there to protect him.”
Keely smiled. “He’s a sweet old boy.”
“Who, me?” Boone drawled, peering at her wickedly over his reading glasses.
“The dog!” she emphasized.
“Oh.” He went back to his spreadsheets, oblivious to the world.
Winnie chuckled. “I’ll get Bailey.”
* * *
SHE DID. SHE also got Clark and Mrs. Johnston. They all peered in from the hall, fascinated. Boone had never even brought a woman upstairs in living memory, and here he was in bed, in his pajamas, with Keely.
Clark started to speak. Boone