in one’s stride.” She got up abruptly and gathered the dishes, taking them quickly to the sink with the iron pump attached. She pumped it to get water into a pan and then poured water into the kettle and set it on the wood stove to boil.
“The stove sure does make it uncomfortable in the summer, doesn’t it, Mr. Vance?” Teddy asked.
Thorn had smothered a grin at Trilby’s last riposte. “You get used to things when you have to, Ted,” Thorn said.
Trilby felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He’d lost his wife, and he had probably cared about her a great deal. He couldn’t help being rough and uncivilized. He hadn’t had the advantages of an Eastern man.
“That was good pie,” Thorn said directly, and sounded surprised.
“Thank you,” she said. “Grandmother taught me how to cook when I was just a little girl.”
“You’re not a little girl now, are you?” Vance asked curtly.
“That’s right,” Teddy agreed, not realizing that the question was more mockery than query. “Trilby’s old. She’s twenty-four.”
Trilby could have gone right through the floor. “Ted!”
Thorn stared at her for a long moment. “I thought you were much younger.”
She flushed. “How you do go on, Mr. Vance,” she said stiffly. “Speaking of going on…”
Vance smiled at her. It changed his face, made it less formidable, charming as his black eyes sparkled. “Yes?” he prodded.
“How old are you, Mr. Vance?” Teddy interrupted.
“I’m thirty-two,” he told the boy. “I suppose that puts me in the class with your grandparents?”
Teddy laughed. “Right into the rocking chair.”
Vance laughed, too. He got up from the table and pulled his pocket watch out of the slit above the pocket of his jeans. He opened it and grimaced. “I’ve got an Eastern visitor arriving on the train this afternoon. I must go.”
“Come again,” Teddy invited.
“I will, when your father’s home.” He glanced atTrilby speculatively. “I’m having a party Friday evening, a get-together for my Eastern visitor. He was a relation of my wife’s, and he’s somewhat famous in academic circles. He’s an anthropologist. I’d like you all to come.”
“Me, too?” Teddy asked excitedly.
Vance nodded. “There’ll be other youngsters around. And Curt will be there, with his wife,” he added, with a pointed glance at Trilby.
Trilby didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t attended an evening party since they’d been in Arizona, although they’d been invited to several. Her mother didn’t like social gatherings. She might agree to this one, because it wouldn’t do to offend someone as wealthy and powerful as Thornton Vance, even if he did look and act like some sort of desperado.
“I’ll mention it to Mama and Papa,” she told him.
“You do that.” He took his hat in hand and walked with easy strides to the front door with Trilby and Teddy behind him.
It was tilted at the usual rakish angle when he swung lazily into the saddle. “Thanks for the pie,” he told Trilby.
She tilted her chin at just the right angle and smiled at him coldly. “Oh, it was no trouble at all. I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you some cream with it.”
“Had you lapped it up already?” he tormented.
She glared at him. “No. I expect you curdled it.”
He chuckled with reluctant pleasure. He tipped his hat, wheeled the horse gently, and eased him into a nice trot. Trilby and Teddy watched him until he was out of sight.
“He likes you,” he teased her.
She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not at all the kind of woman he’d be interested in.”
“Why not?”
She glared at Thorn’s back with mingled excitement and resentment. “I expect he likes his women with their necks on the ground under his boot.”
“Oh, Trilby, you’re silly! Do you like Mr. Vance?” he persisted.
“No, I do not,” she said tersely, and turned back into the house. “I have a lot of things to do, Teddy.”
“If that’s a hint, sis, I’ll go