The Rogue Read Free

attention. “What put that idea in your head?”
    “Guy told me.”
    “The two of you did quite a bit of talking on that short walk.”
    “Enough to know that man is virtually a stranger to him. Guy never saw him until his mother died. He deserted both of them when Guy was just a baby.”
    “It isn’t quite as cut and dried as that, Diana. Guy’s parents were barely sixteen when they married. It was one of those ‘have to’ things. They were simply too young, and like a lot of teen-aged couples, they couldn’t make it work. After they separated, his wife left Arizona with the baby. Holt never heard from her again until her parents notified him of her death. It wasn’t a case of not wanting to see his son. Holt didn’t know where he was.”
    It sounded plausible, but Diana preferred Guy’s version. “I don’t like him,” she stated.
    The Major frowned. “It isn’t like you to make snap judgments.”
    “I don’t like him,” she repeated.
    “You’ll change your mind. He’s excellent with horses and has a working knowledge of cattle. More than that, he has management potential.”
    “Management? Why is that so special?”
    “I’m not getting any younger. In a few years, I’m going to need somebody to run the ranch, take some of the load off my aging shoulders. Holt is going to need a few more years of seasoning. If my instincts haven’t failed me, he’s going to be a good leader someday.”
    Diana made no comment. She knew that if she had been a boy, the Major would have been thinking about turning the ranch operation over to her in a few years instead of to a stranger. The knowledge hurt. The summer ahead didn’t look as pleasant as it had before Holt Mallory arrived.
    Entering the house a step behind her father, she followed him through the living room to the connected dining room. The furnishings in the house were austerely male, arranged in precise order. Everything was comfortable, yet very utilitarian. The table was set for morning coffee, a daily routine in the Somers’ house.
    As the Major pulled out a chair at the head of the table, the housekeeper came from the kitchen carrying a pot of freshly brewed coffee and a plate of homemade doughnuts. Sophie Miller was a gaunt, unprepossessing woman. Although she was only in her late forties, her brown hair was salted with gray and severely styled in a crown of braids atop her head. Widowed for many years and childless, she had lived on the ranch for the last six years as the Major’s housekeeper. She was a drab person, doing her work without ever drawing attention to herself.
    Diana sat in the chair to the right of her father. Ever since she could remember, she had always joined him in this morning break, actually drinking coffee from the time she was eight. Father and daughter shared almost everything together. This was not one of the times that Diana sat back and enjoyed it. She was still disturbed that the Major had failed to inform her that he had hired a new man. She was also bothered by the way he had so casually dismissed her dislike of this Holt Mallory.
    Coffee was steaming from the Major’s cup as Sophie filled the cup in front of Diana. The Major had unfolded his napkin and laid it across his creased trousers. He glanced at the plate of doughnuts and smiled at Diana.
    “Chocolate, your favorite, Diana,” he commented and received a disinterested nod from her. “Sophie made them especially for you.”
    The quietly prompting statement shook Diana out of her silent contemplation. “Thanks, Sophie.” She tossed the words indifferently over her shoulder, and the housekeeper smiled briefly in return, having learned not to expect more from Diana.
    To Diana, Sophie was merely one of a series of housekeepers who had gone in and out of her life. Sophie had simply lasted longer than the others. Most of them hadn’t liked the isolation of the ranch since it prevented them from seeing family and friends. Sophiehad no family and, apparently,