A Spear of Summer Grass - By Deanna Raybourn Page 0,64
do it.”
“Fine. Then you will do it.”
He blinked rapidly. “I don’t think so, Miss Drummond.”
“You just said—”
He held up a meaty hand. “I said it was easier for a white man to do it. But not this white man. I’m a farm manager, not a hunter. It’s not in my job description. Now, I’ve been accommodating since you arrived, Miss Drummond, very accommodating, and I’ve done many things that weren’t strictly speaking my responsibility. But I draw the line here, I do draw it here. I am a family man. What would become of my family if I died trying to kill a lion that wasn’t my place to kill?”
He was sweating, but his expression was smug. He had me. I couldn’t force him to risk his life to kill a man-eating lion. But I knew exactly who would do the job.
I said whatever words of comfort I could manage in Swahili and the Kikuyu accepted my promise that the lion would be dealt with. Dora turned away as they gathered up the blanket with its small, broken burden. I watched them leave then turned to Gates.
“You’re entirely correct, Mr. Gates. You are a farmer. So get back to your plow and I’ll talk to you when this is over.”
He slunk away and I headed into the house to dress. By the time I finished, Dora had seen to breakfast and I choked down a piece of toast and a cup of tea before I stood up.
“Wrap a few sandwiches for me, Do. I’ve got to find Ryder and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
She opened her mouth then clamped it shut again as the man himself stepped onto the veranda.
“Didn’t I tell you not to go looking for me?” he asked, his mouth quirked up. “You don’t listen very well.”
“Oh, thank God you’re here.”
He raised his brows. “That’s a greeting a man could get used to,” he said, settling himself at the table.
“May I offer you some breakfast?” Dora asked kindly. “There are plenty of eggs and we’ve toast and tea and some lovely preserves.”
She loaded a plate for him while I stewed. “This isn’t going to be a social call, Ryder. I need you to go kill a lion.”
He held up a hand. “I know all about your lion. That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, we ought to discuss terms.”
Dora rose and murmured something about making more tea as Ryder fixed me with an amused look. “Terms?”
“Yes, the terms of your employment.”
He laughed aloud. “Princess, you can’t afford me, so let’s just dismiss that idea right now.”
“How do you know what I can afford?”
He smiled, the lines at his eyes and mouth crinkling gently. “Because I know what I charge and it’s generally only royalty and Rockefellers who can match my prices.”
“Name it,” I challenged.
He did and I stared at him as he loaded a second plate with eggs from the chafing dish.
“Jesus Jiminy Christ, Ryder, if that’s how much you make you ought to be feeding me breakfast.”
He grinned. “Told you.”
“How on earth do you get away with charging that much?”
He shrugged. “People are always willing to pay for the best.”
I snorted. “I see modesty doesn’t number among your virtues.”
“No, but honesty does. I am a damned good hunter, princess, but I hate guiding for other people. I figured if I charged outrageous prices people would stop hiring me and I could do whatever I liked, but it hasn’t turned out that way.”
“No?”
He forked in a bit of egg and followed it with half a piece of toast. “It turns out that charging astronomical prices only makes people want you all the more. Apparently it offers cachet,” he said, tipping his head to the side.
“Cachet aside, you’re right. I can’t afford that. I could buy a flat in Paris for that kind of money.”
“So I’ll do it for free,” he finished.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”
He sat back and folded his arms. “What’s the matter? Don’t like the idea of being beholden to me?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
“Then come with me. I charge half as much to get rid of man-eaters if someone else takes the shot. You’ll only be half-beholden to me then.”
I hesitated for all the right reasons. And I accepted for all the wrong ones.
“Fine,” I said, putting out my hand.
He took it in his and shook it slowly. He was still holding on to it when Dora appeared with a fresh pot of tea. I jerked