Heartbreaker Read Free

now, and no longer dreaded waking up each day.
    She trudged around the ranch doing the chores, putting her mind in neutral gear and simply letting her body go through the motions. It was easier that way; she could pay attention to her aches and bruises when all the chores were finished, but the best way to get them done was to ignore the protests of her muscles and the nicks and bruises she acquired. None of her old friends would ever have believed that Michelle Cabot was capable of turning her dainty hands to rough, physical chores. Sometimes it amused her to imagine what their reactions would be, another mind game that she played with herself to pass the time. Michelle Cabot had always been ready for a party, or shopping, or a trip to St. Moritz, or a cruise on someone’s yacht. Michelle Cabot had always been laughing, making wisecracks with the best of them; she’d looked perfectly right with a glass of champagne in her hand and diamonds in her ears. The ultimate Golden Girl, that was her.
    Well, the ultimate Golden Girl had cattle to feed, hay to cut, fences that needed repair, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. She needed to dip the cattle, but that was something else she hadn’t figured out how to manage by herself. There was branding, castrating, breeding… . When she allowed herself to think of everything that needed doing, she was swamped by hopelessness, so she usually didn’t dwell on it. She just took each day as it came, slogging along, doing what she could. It was survival, and she’d become good at it.
    By ten o’clock that night, when Rafferty hadn’t called, Michelle braced herself and called him again. Again the housekeeper answered; Michelle stifled a sigh, wondering if Rafferty ever spent a night at home. “This is Michelle Cabot. I’d like to speak to Rafferty, please. Is he home?”
    â€œYes, he’s down at the barn. I’ll switch your call to him.”
    So he had a telephone in the barn. For a moment she thought enviously of the operation he had as she listened to the clicks the receiver made in her ear. Thinking about his ranch took her mind off her suddenly galloping pulse and stifled breathing.
    â€œRafferty.” His deep, impatient voice barked the word in her ear, and she jumped, her hand tightening on the receiver as her eyes closed.
    â€œThis is Michelle Cabot.” She kept her tone as remote as possible as she identified herself. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”
    â€œRight now I’m damned short of time. I’ve got a mare in foal, so spit it out and make it fast.”
    â€œIt’ll take more time than that. I’d like to make an appointment, then. Would it be convenient for me to come over tomorrow morning?”
    He laughed, a short, humorless bark. “This is a working ranch, sugar, not a social event. I don’t have time for you tomorrow morning. Time’s up.”
    â€œThen when?”
    He muttered an impatient curse. “Look, I don’t have time for you now . I’ll drop by tomorrow afternoon on my way to town. About six.” He hung up before she could agree or disagree, but as she hung up, too, she thought ruefully that he was calling the shots, so it didn’t really matter if she liked the time or not. At least she had the telephone call behind her now, and there were almost twenty hours in which to brace herself for actually seeing him. She would stop work tomorrow in time to shower and wash her hair, and she’d do the whole routine with makeup and perfume, wear her white linen trousers and white silk shirt. Looking at her, Rafferty would never suspect that she was anything other than what he’d always thought her to be, pampered and useless.
    I T W A S L A T E in the afternoon, the broiling sun had pushed the temperature to a hundred degrees, and the cattle were skittish. Rafferty was hot, sweaty, dusty and ill-tempered, and so were his men.