"Good. I hope Margo gets him pregnant."
"Stop that!" He leaned forward and picked up a notepad, whipping off a sheet. "Well I can solve your problems for a day or so. Take this."
"What is it?" she murmured, reading a street address.
"Emmett's address. Get on the next flight to San Antonio and follow these directions. They should lead you right to Tansy Dev-erell."
"Hallelujah! I'll kidnap her and send Logan a ransom note...."
"Not while you're on my payroll, please."
"It was just a thought." She folded the note. "I'm sorry about losing the lady I was trailing for you."
"That was hardly your fault. It's okay."
She shrugged, fingering the note. "I seem to get in deeper all the time. I had a neighbor who Betsy Corley took for everything he had." She looked up. "She'll do that to Logan, you know. He's so besotted he won't believe a bad thing about her. She'll lead him right to the slaughter and make him think he's heaven-bound. Just like she did poor old Bill."
"You don't give Logan credit for having much sense, do you?" he asked gently.
She shrugged. “How can I? After all, he sacrificed three years of loyal, slavish devotion and adoration over a cup of spilled coffee, didn't he?"
"He was an idiot there," Dane had to agree. "I'm sorry you've had such a rough deal. Maybe this job will open new doors for you."
She smiled. "Maybe it will. Do you know any more about this address besides its location?"
"Just that Tansy's nephew is something of a hell-raiser. He and Tansy should get along just fine."
"Another Chris," she said, shaking her head.
"Well...not exactly," he replied slowly. "Never mind, just go out there and find out. And, if you get in trouble or have any problems, any at all, just phone here and I'll demand that you come right home to work on another case. Okay?"
That sounded very much as if he were keeping something from her. She wondered what. Her eyebrows lifted. "Now I'm intrigued."
"You will be. That's a promise." He chuckled. "From what we ferreted out, intrigued is an understatement for what most people think when they meet Emmett"
She put a hand on her hip. "Emmett?"
"Well, most people don't call him that if they want to stay out of emergency rooms. Better make it Mr. Deverell until you know him."
"Should I invest in one of those electrical devices...?"
"Doris will have your ticket."
"Yes, sir." She saluted and walked out. Sure enough, Doris was waving it at her when she approached. Adams was nearby, grinning.
"Don't get involved with the natives," Doris told her. "Those San Antonio men are tornadoes when you get them wound up."
"I'll try to remember that. See you when I can. Goodbye, Adams," she added, waving at him and smiling.
Adams seemed to gain height and masculine beauty as he grinned back.
"Hands off," Doris whispered. "He's all mine."
She said it just loud enough that Adams could hear it, which made his smile even broader. "Good luck," she whispered back to Doris. And with a wave of her hand, she went to get the necessary things out of her desk before she left for her trip.
San Antonio was big. It boasted a million in population and some of the most interesting things to see and do in the country, including the Alamo and the Paseo Del Rio.
Before she went searching for the address and directions in her purse, she checked into the nearest hotel and took time to get a bite of lunch and rest.
Then she got into her rental car and set out for the address Dane had given her.
It was on the southeastern side of town, and not in a subdivision. In fact, the address was something of a ranch, complete with oil wells pumping in the pastures and white fences all around. Red-coated cattle grazed in thickets of mesquite, past flatland that had patches of prickly pear cactus to hallmark it.
She looked at the address a second time to be sure, but there it was. No one had ever said that the Deverells had a cattle-raising relative out here in Texas.
As she drove across the cattle grate and down the long, winding dirt driveway to the elegant two-story Victorian house in the distance, she was suddenly assailed by three war-painted buckskin-clad midgets with bows and arrows and chicken-feather warbonnets.
“Hold it right there, palefacette," one of them drawled "You're our captive."
She shouldn't have stopped, she supposed, but they'd looked so cute! Now they looked menacing and ferocious—if you could call grammar school kids dangerous.
They all looked like boys, but one of them turned out to be a girl. They piled into the back seat and commanded Kit to drive.
"We're the Deverell gang," the spokesperson said. "I'm Guy. That's Polk. She's Amy."
"Yes, we're the reason our daddy can't get married." Polk piped up. "We're savages, like our lus...illl...us..."
"Illustrious," Amy said for him.
"Thanks! Illustrious ancestors, that is," Polk continued.
"They were Comanches!" Amy whispered.
"One of them, Amy, only one," Polk muttered, "and she was our three-times great-grandmother. For heaven's sake...!"
"You said we were Indians," Amy persisted. "That's why we're wearing these silly costumes!"
"It's Thanksgiving in two days," came the reply from the spokesman, Guy. "And we're in a school play tomorrow, which is Monday, so we're rehearsing."
"We're going to kidnap the principal, Mr. Deere, and hold him for ransom!"
I like these kids, Kit thought. They're my kind of people. I wonder if they know anything about kidnapping financial experts?
"Stop here," Guy said. "And don't try anything funny, pilgrim."
Amy leaned toward him. "Pilgrimette," she corrected.
As John Wayne impersonations went, it left a lot to be desired, but it wasn't too bad, considering. Smothering a laugh, Kit got out of the car and raised her hands as three ferocious Native Americans with bows raised herded her toward the porch and the front door.
"Knock!" Guy said.
She did. There was the muffled, quick and heavy sound of footsteps approaching and a deep voice asking some kind of question. The door opened, and Kit looked up, way up, to a muscular jean-clad body into the palest green eyes in the most unwelcoming darkly tanned face she'd ever seen in her life.
"Well, I'll be damned," he murmured thoughtfully, glancing at his brood. "Another captive! Bring her in, boys, and we'll build a nice warm fire."
The last thing Kit saw before she hit the floor was the surprise that momentarily softened those fierce features.
Chapter Three
Kat opened her eyes and there was that lean, dark face again. White teeth gleamed in it. Green eyes glittered humorously in it.
“Welcome back," a deep voice said.
"You can't burn me at the stake," Kit said in a rush.
"Beg pardon?"
"Move, Emmett," an elderly voice said stridently. "Don't be absurd, Kit," Tansy Deverell chuckled, "of course he isn't going to burn you at the stake. I tell you, Emmett, these children are even worse than you were at their ages! You've got to do something about them!"
"You want us to go away, don't you?" Guy asked belligerently. "Well, we won't! This is our house, and we can stay here if we want. Tell her, Dad."
"I can't argue with the boy. Look, he's armed," Emmett said reasonably, gesturing toward the bow Guy was holding.
"You're his father!" Tansy raged.
Emmett frowned and looked at Guy and then at Polk and finally at Amy. "That's what their mother said." He sighed. "I guess they do look like me. Lady, are you all right?" he asked, remembering Kit, who was sitting up dizzily.
"Yes, I'm just getting over the shock. It isn't every day you get captured by a band of Indians and threatened with the stake."
"Aw, gee, lady, we wouldn't have burned you," Polk said. "It's a lot of work to cut that much wood."
Kit stared at him blankly.
"Why did you faint?"
Tansy asked curtly, her blue eyes somber in a lovely complexion that hadn't aged, with a frame of beautifully groomed silver hair. "Has my son gotten you in trouble?" she added angrily.
"I'm not pregnant," Kit muttered. "And if I was, it would make biological history. Your son is much too busy getting himself married to one of the world's prime gold diggers."
"Yes, I know," Tansy said wistfully. "He wouldn't listen to me, either. I'm sorry he fired you, Kit. He'll be sorry, too."
"No, he won't. He replaced me." She grinned at Tansy. "It only took him three women to do it. One can do payroll and filing, but she carries an electric weapon and smokes like a furnace. One can spell, but she's trying to seduce him. And the third one could do all three if she wasn't scared to death of him. She's nice."
"That would be Melody," Tansy said, and bit her tongue at the quick, almost violent look Emmett gave her.
"Melody?" he asked slowly. "Melody Cartman?"
"Yes, that's her name," Kit said, too shaken to notice the undercurrents. "If the smoke doesn't kill her, she might work out to be his right hand someday."
"I hate cigarettes," Tansy said with a pointed look at Emmett.
"Cigarettes are a curse," he agreed. Then he shrugged off his bad mood, grinned, pulled one out of his pocket and lit it, daring the onlookers to say a word.
“Okay, Dad. You asked for it," Guy muttered. He whipped around to his back, pulled a water pistol, and quickly extinguished the glowing tip.
Emmett stared at it with a forlorn sigh and dropped it. "Damn. That was my last one."
"And don't try that again, partner," Guy said firmly, twirling the water pistol back into his pocket while his siblings applauded loudly. He grinned at Kit. "Hey, lady, want to come hunting rabbits with us?"
"No, thanks, I feel a bit endangered right now."
"We wouldn't have a post to tie you to out in the brush,"
"But there's the brush itself," Amy mused. "It's very dry, and I got one of Emmett's old lighters..."
"Will you stop calling me Emmett?" he muttered at his child. "I'm your father. Show a little respect."
"Yes, Emmett," Amy said politely, pulling the lighter out of her pocket.
She flashed it and Emmett grabbed it. "Not anymore, you don't," he said. "Scat, you varmints! And don't bring back any rattlers this time!"
They scampered out, giggling and murmuring among themselves while Kit caught her breath.
“Nobody in the family ever comes here,” Tansy said as she and Emmett helped Kit up. "Can you guess why?" she added with a pointed glare at Emmett.
“I could probably make a stab at it,” Kit mused.
"He's spoiled them rotten. They don't do anything they don't want to. The only exception he made was school. He insisted that they get educated."
"So I won't have to support them for the rest of my life,” Emmett explained. He looked down at Kit and measured her with his glittering green eyes. "How do you feel about brief engagements? We could get married right after lunch."
Kit stared at him. "What?"
"I guess you're one of those girls who believe in long engagements, aren't you? Okay. We can wait until tomorrow to get married, then."
"He does this all the time," Tansy said sadly, shaking her head. "Pay him no attention."
"That's the trouble, nobody does!" Emmett said in exasperation, throwing up his hands. "I've been turned down five times in one month." He narrowed one eye, and glanced at Kit. "Maybe my luck's changing, though. You're not bad on the eyes and you can type. You could handle those kids and help me out in the office, too. We could be a ranching family. Think of it," he said with a gleam in his eyes, "we could found a dynasty here. Several more kids and a few good bulls..."
"Wait a minute, please," Kit said, putting out a hand. "I have just avoided becoming a human sacrifice once today. You really will have to seek a soul mate elsewhere. I have it in mind to become the female Charlie Chan."
"Another private eye." He shook his head. "What is it with you women and trench coats? We had a female private eye down here just a couple of months ago, looking for a missing woman." He glanced toward the door. “Those kids again. They nabbed her at a rest stop and tied her to a tree. Good thing the fire attracted attention from the highway."
Kit didn't dare ask any more. She simply stood and stared at him as if she doubted his sanity and her own. “Do you often send your children out to hijack prospective brides, Mr. Deverell?"
'They won't go at all if I don't pay them, the mercenary little devils," he told her outrageously. "They say I'm too cheap to get a really good woman. I don't know, though, you're pretty easy on the eyes. How about it? I've got all my own teeth." He grinned to show them.
"Thank you, but I don't want to marry you."
"Of course not. You don't know me yet. I'll court you over barbecued ribs." He frowned. "You do like barbecue? I simply couldn't marry a woman who didn't."
She chuckled at the sheer absurdity of it. "Yes, I like barbecue."
"You can't marry her," Tansy said firmly. "I've got her all staked out for my son."
"I don't like Chris that much," Kit said demurely.
"You know I wasn't talking about Chris," Tansy murmured.
"He likes the beauteous Betsy," came the terse reply.
"Excuse me, but the two of you are talking about Cousin Logan, aren't you?" Emmett asked. "What's he gotten himself into this time?"
Tansy told him while Kit listened.
Emmett shook his head. "It runs in the family. All us Deverells are fools when it comes to women. Look at me. My ex-wife couldn't wait to marry me so we could have kids. But when we started having them, she got tired of it, so she ran off with a damned mechanic." His eyes narrowed with feeling. "Go figure."
“Didn't your wife ever want to come back?" Kit asked.
He shrugged. "She called a while back, but I lost the telephone number. It's just as well," he added, for an instant, there was something not at all easygoing in the glint of his green eyes. "She got tired of the kids...God!"
"There are women in the world who just aren't cut out for motherhood, Emmett," Tansy said. "There are others who would love your brood. Or at least there would be, if your horrible reputation didn't precede you. Nobody will come near the place because of those kids, and you've encouraged them in a most unfatherly way to be hooligans."
"Straitlaced kids never have any fun, Tansy." He chuckled. "I know. I was raised in a military academy. It took me years to shake off rules and tradition and start having fun." His eyes grew wistful. "Do you know, I've treed more bars locally than the town drunk?"
"Your sins will come back to haunt you," Tansy predicted.
"Not before I get a mother for those kids," he said. "They're going to seed."
"You planted them."
"I have to work, don't I?"
"I wouldn't call riding in every rodeo from Texas to Montana necessity. You're breaking every bone in your body one at a time."
"It takes money to keep this place going. The plumbing's half shot. I'll have to bone up on my calf-roping."
"They'd let you manage old man Ted Regan's place if you'd ask."
"Ted is only five years older than I am. He isn't even middle-aged."
"Everybody calls him old man Regan," Tansy said. "I don't know why, except that he's got prematurely silver hair. Anyway, he'd let you manage his place, but you just won't."
"I don't want to move to Houston."
"Jacobsville," Tansy corrected.
“Not much difference. And old Ted's ranch is so close to Houston that it could be called a suburb. I like San Antonio."
"It would be the best thing in the world for the kids," Tansy coaxed. “Plenty of fresh air, piney woods and green meadows, nice people."
"Girls?" he asked, lifting both eyebrows.
"Nobody is going to marry you until you civilize those children," Tansy warned.
'That's why I've got to get married. A man can't do that kind of job alone," he sa
id plaintively. "I'm only one person, for God's sake! They outnumber me three to one!"
Kit had been listening quietly. This man was a cross between Chris and Logan. She liked him, but there seemed to be a lot more to him under the surface than was visible above it.
"You could hire a companion," she began.
He swept off his white Stetson and held it against his heart, eyes wide and stark. "Lady!" he exclaimed. "I can't bring that kind of woman into my home!"
She burst out laughing. "You're as incorrigible as Chris!"
"He taught me everything I know," he agreed. He perched the Stetson back on his head. "Yes, I suppose I could get a nursemaid for the kids, but they'd torture her to death the first night. She'd find a snake in her bed or a spider in her bath, or something even worse. I can't do that to some poor unsuspecting woman. I do have a housekeeper, though, who is away on sick leave."
"There are women who have had survival training," she said.
"I don't want a drill sergeant."
"Are you sure? Think of all the fun you'd have, watching her bring them into line," Tansy suggested.
He considered that for a minute. "No," he said finally, shaking his head. "It would break their little hearts."
"The way they're heading, they aren't going to have hearts for much longer. You've got to do something, Emmett!" Tansy said.
"Not right now. Tell us why you're here," Emmett said, turning to Kit.
"I've come to find Tansy."
Tansy's eyes widened. "Logan again!"
"He worries."
"He's a damned busybody," Tansy muttered. "My God, I can't go on a little bitty plane ride without him having me followed and reports filled out on my companions. He's terrified that I'll rewrite my will and leave all my money to someone's terrier."
"That's not true." Kit chuckled. "He's afraid you'll end up married to some twenty-year-old gigolo and kill him with sheer exhaustion."
"How flattering," the older woman said delightedly. "Emmett, do you know any twenty-year-old gigolos we could try?"
"Shame on you," he said shortly. "A nice, decent woman like you ought to be ashamed to say a thing like that to me."
"I don't know why not. Last year, you were running around with that rodeo groupie and she was spending you out of bed and board."
Books By Diana Palmer Page 128
