Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

That seemed to make Drew even angrier.

  He bustled his in-laws out the door and gave Kitty a glare that would have stopped traf­fic.

  "How very odd," Nurse Turner remarked as they were closing up the office for the weekend. "Goodness, he hasn't had them here for five years or more. I know he spends Christmas Day with them, but mostly he stays in a hotel and watches television to make everyone think he's enjoying himself. He doesn't have anything in common with them except Eve and fishing." She shook her head. "He's acting very oddly," she murmured, glancing at her co-worker. "I thought I was going to need an ambulance for him the morn­ing he walked in and saw you on the floor. My goodness, normally nothing shakes him. Noth­ing at all."

  "Maybe he has a terror of asthma attacks," she murmured self-consciously.

  "Not him. I just don't understand him at all." She glanced again at Kitty. "Maybe he's in love."

  "If he is, I feel sorry for her," Kitty said curtly. "She'll never be able to compete with his beautiful ghost."

  "I wonder," Nurse Turner said, but she smiled and went home.

  Kitty was invited to have Sunday dinner with Drew and his in-laws, whom he brought to church with him. But Kitty made sure she had other plans. She refused on the grounds that she'd accepted an invitation from Guy Fenton to go to a movie with him. She'd agreed to the date against her better judgment. He promised not to take up with another girl in the middle of the show, though, and it was a movie that she very much wanted to see. Drew's reaction to the news made her a little uneasy. He was furious and unable to hide it.

  She settled into her seat at the theater, and Guy draped a gentle arm around her.

  "I was surprised that you agreed," he com­mented quietly. "I wasn't very kind to you last time."

  "I wanted to see this movie," she replied, smiling.

  "I like science fiction, too," he agreed, smiling back.

  It was a good movie, but her heart wasn't in it. She was remembering how hard Drew was trying to make her see her lack of impor­tance in his life. If he was willing to have hisr in-laws practically live with him to keep her at bay, he must be serious about trying to keep her at arm's length. It made her sad to think how little she mattered. As long as she lived, she was going to hear him calling Eve's name on the banks of the river.

  Guy took her home and kissed her gently, but he knew at once that she felt nothing for him.

  He touched her nose gently. "Any time you're at a loose end, we can go to a movie. I'm not in the market for a wife or a steady girl, but I like you."

  "Thanks," she said. "I like you, too."

  "Don't grieve too much over the doctor," he advised quietly, and the familiar smile was temporarily in eclipse. "It wouldn't have worked. Everyone knows how he loved his wife. You just can't compete with a perfect memory."

  "I know that"

  "Of course you do. You're no dummy." He kissed her cheek. "Good night, pal."

  "Thanks for the movie."

  "You're welcome. Next time, we'll have pizza and then go to a movie."

  She grinned. "I'd really like that."

  "Me, too. I'll phone you."

  He waved and made his way down the stairs. Watching his back, Kitty thought that he'd been a constant surprise. She wished she could have given her heart to somebody like Guy or Matt—someone who might want it.

  She went into her apartment and sat down on the sofa. Alone, all the misery of the past week came back to haunt her. She was going to have to do something. She couldn't go on like this, seeing Drew every day and knowing that he didn't want her.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Drew was eloquent about his visitors and how much he'd enjoyed his company. Nobody knew that he was lying through his teeth. Especially not Kitty.

  Surprising everyone, mostly herself, she typed out her resignation and put it on Drew's desk. He glanced at her curiously before he read it.

  "You want to leave?" he asked.

  There was nothing in his face or voice to indicate that he gave a damn, so she said, "Yes, I do."

  "All right," he replied. “I’ll phone the agency right now and see when you can be replaced. If they have someone free, you can leave tomorrow. I'll write you a good refer­ence and give you two weeks' severance pay.”

  She didn't argue. She was tired of the con­tinual misery. "Thank you," she said, and walked out.

  Drew stared at the closed door. He should have felt relief. His memories of Eve were safe now. He could live in the past, continue to be in love with his sweet ghost. Kitty, that pain in his heart, was about to depart forever. Why, oh, why, didn't he feel relief? He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. If he felt anything, he had to admit in the privacy of his mind, it was grief. But this time, it wasn't for his ghost.

  The agency came through. A new recep­tionist would be in the office the next morning. Kitty emptied her desk that afternoon and was ready to leave at the end of the day.

  Nurse Turner was sorry to see her go, but too shrewd not to guess why she was going.

  "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you," she said. "I'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you, too." She picked up her sweater. "He won't eat breakfast. But maybe my replacement could bring him a roll or a bagel occasionally. He'll eat it if it's put in front of him with coffee."

  "I noticed," Nurse Turner said dryly.

  "It was just a thought."

  She hugged Kitty. "Where will you go?"

  "There are always jobs for a good typist," Kitty said simply. "I'll find something."

  Nurse Turner hesitated. "Aren't you going to tell him goodbye?" she asked, nodding to­ward the back of the office.

  Kitty hesitated, but only for a minute. "No," she said rawly. She left the office with­out another word.

  Two weeks later, she was enjoying a snatched cup of coffee when her new boss, Matt Caldwell, peered around the door.

  "Got that disk copied yet?" he asked.

  She grinned and held it up, in its jacket.

  "Good thing for me you were tired of being a receptionist just when my secretary went into labor. You've saved my life. These are herd records for that group I've got at the Balleng-er's feedlot. I want to show the birth weight ratios to a prospective buyer." He stuck the computer disk in its case into his pocket. "You're a jewel, girl. Don't know what I'd do without you."

  She chuckled. "I doubt that. Probably half the women in Jacobsville would have come running if you'd advertised."

  "That's why I didn't," he murmured. "I'm quite a catch, didn't you know? Handsome, rich, sophisticated and charming, and modest to a fault." He took a bow.

  She burst out laughing. "I noticed the mod­esty right away."

  He opened the door. "Go home early if you like. I'll be out for the rest of the day."

  "I'll stick around to answer the phone."

  "Where do you go from here?" he asked, scowling. "I could make a job for you quite easily..."

  She shook her head. "I've got two inter­views in Victoria."

  He grimaced. "Listen, child, you don't have to leave the county just because Drew Morris can't live in the present."

  "Yes, I do," she replied firmly. "I'm not going to sit around here eating my heart out every time I see him. I'll be happy in Victoria. I'll find another man and marry him and have five kids."

  "You could marry me," Matt suggested. "I'm not interested in anyone seriously these days. And at least I'd be sure you weren't mar­rying me for my money."

  She smiled warmly. "Thanks, Matt, but I don't think either of us could settle for a love­less marriage."

  He shrugged and sighed. "I could." She knew his past, and she doubted it, but she didn't say so. "I appreciate the offer," she told him sincerely. "I'll remember it and gloat every time a local belle swoons over you."

  He threw her a wicked glance. "Likely story."

  After he left, she organized the filing and then just sat staring at the blank computer monitor. She was totally miserable. She hadn't really expec
ted Drew to call, and he hadn't, but she'd hoped that he might miss her. That was wishful thinking, nothing else. He was probably happy that he didn't have her to di­vert him from his memories.

  She was briefly ashamed of herself for be­ing like that, when he'd loved his wife so much. She'd never be loved as Eve had, de­spite the feelings she harbored for Drew. Love that was unreturned was a bitter thing indeed.

  As she filed the new jackets, she wondered how she'd ever come to this incredible low in her life. Not even the loss of her father had left her so depressed and miserable. If only she could work up just a spark of enthusiasm for a new job. Perhaps she'd find something in Victoria that would heal her wounds.

  The worst thing about being in Jacobsville was that from time to time, she ran into Drew. It wasn't a tiny little town, but there were only two banks, and she and Drew both banked at the same one. She saw him there soon after she'd quit working for him. He was polite, but he acted as if he barely knew her. The next time they met, in the grocery store, he pre­tended not to see her. Her heart was breaking in two. The only thing for it was to get out of town as soon as possible, no matter what sort of work she got to do.

  She couldn't find a single secretarial or re­ceptionist job going spare in Victoria, but there was an opening at a nice-looking local cafe. In desperation, Kitty applied for it and was hired on the spot.

  She didn't tell Matt what sort of job she had, just that she had one. She thanked him kindly for his temporary employment and packed her bags.

  It was inevitable that Matt would run into Drew one day.

  "You look like hell," Matt remarked bluntly when he saw the drawn, irritable-looking physician.

  "I've been up all night with a patient," Drew muttered. He studied the other man. "I know Kitty's working for you. Are you mak­ing sure she uses her medicines? The pollen count's going to be out of sight this week, with no rain."

  "Kitty's not here," Matt replied, faintly surprised. "She got a job in Victoria last week and moved there."

  "What?"

  The other man's shocked expression said a lot. "I only needed temporary help," Matt ex­plained. "I have to have someone permanent, and Kitty didn't want to stay in Jacobsville."

  "Why not?" Drew asked belligerently. "She was born here."

  "Beats me. She couldn't wait to leave," Matt said with a shrewd idea of why Drew looked so bad. "She's a nice girl. I asked her to marry me."

  Drew lost color again. His eyes widened, darkened. "What did she say?" he asked, well aware of Matt's worth on the matrimonial market.

  "She said no," Matt mused. "I guess I'm not as hot a marriage prospect as I thought."

  Drew relaxed visibly. He stuck his hands into his pockets. "She doesn't know anyone in Victoria, does she? No family there, cer­tainly."

  "She didn't say," Matt said honestly. His eyes narrowed as he summed up the expres­sion on Drew's face. "She's the kind of girl who's going to be snapped up soon, by some lucky man. She'll make a wonderful wife and a great mother. I'm sorry it won't be me."

  Drew didn't look at him. He was so jealous he could hardly bear it. The last weeks had been endless, a nightmare of tortured thoughts and misery. Everywhere he looked there were memories of Kitty. He couldn't even bear to speak to her in the grocery store when he'd seen her there, for fear of choking up, of showing how much he missed her.

  "For God's sake, are you going to let her go?" Matt demanded belligerently.

  "Why shouldn't I?" came the terse reply.

  "Because you love her," Matt replied with dead certainty.

  Drew didn't seem to breathe for a minute. He searched Matt's eyes as if he sought an­swers he didn't have.

  "Didn't you know?" Matt persisted gently.

  Drew didn't speak. He turned on his heel and walked away in a daze. Loved her. He...loved her. His eyes closed as he reached his car. Good God, of course he loved her! Why else would he worry himself sick over her, making sure she used her medicines, wore warm things in winter, kept dry in the rain. He leaned against the hood of the car. He'd loved her for a long time, but he couldn't admit it, because it was disloyal to Eve. He'd loved Eve, too. But she was dead. And it occurred to him that she'd never have wanted him to end up like this, alone and bitter, living in the past, in a world that didn't exist anymore.

  Eve had been tenderhearted, compassionate. She'd never have asked him to be faithful unto death. But he'd tried. He lifted his head and looked around him. Children were playing in the park across the street. He watched them hungrily. He remembered Kitty with his little patients on her lap, remembered her face as she looked at them. Kitty loved children.

  He smoothed his hand over a spot on his hood. Kitty loved him, too. He'd seen it, felt it, knew it right inside his soul. But he didn't want to know, so he'd pretended not to see it. Now, it mattered more than anything else ever had. Kitty loved him. He loved her.

  Then what in God's name was he doing standing here?

  He got into the car and paused just long enough to phone his office and tell his new receptionist that he had an emergency out of town and wouldn't be back that day. She'd have to make new appointments for everyone, it couldn't be helped. He hung up and turned the car toward Victoria.

  It took him several hours to track her down. Victoria was a good-sized little city and it had a surprising number of job agencies, none of whom had Kitty on their books. He found her accidentally, when his tired feet forced him into a cafe for a cup of coffee.

  The first thing he saw was Kitty, standing at a table with a platter of chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy in her hands.

  Without missing a step, Drew went right to her, and got down on one knee right there.

  He took her hand in his and looked up into her stunned face. "Kitty Carson, will you marry me?" he asked loudly.

  What happened next was, sadly, predictable. Kitty dropped the platter and his spotless silk jacket was anointed with the thickest, greasiest gravy in east Texas.

  "Oh, Drew," she whispered, and got on her knees, too, in the gravy and mashed potatoes, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him until she had to stop for breath.

  "You look tired. Are you using your medicines?" he asked worriedly. "Are you eating enough? You've gotten very thin."

  "So have you," she whispered brokenly. "And you look so tired, Drew. Oh, darling, you look as if you haven't slept—"

  He kissed her again, hungrily. "I haven't slept since you left. I need you. I love you. I want you for my wife. I want to have children with you..."

  His mouth crushed against hers. They held each other hungrily, oblivious to the ruin in the middle of the floor, to the amused glances of the patron and the owner of the cafe. It was at least a break in the boring routine of the day.

  At last, Drew managed to get up and draw a flushed, radiant Kitty up with him. He glanced at the proprietor with a sheepish grin.

  "Sorry about the mess. I almost let her get away."

  "Shame on you," said Kitty's boss, and chuckled. "Get out of here, both of you, and best wishes! I hope you have ten kids."

  "Oh, so do I," Kitty said fervently, and watched her prospective husband flush with fascinated interest.

  Everybody in Jacobsville turned out for the wedding. It was the major social event of the summer. The bride was radiant in a delicate white lace dress. Drew wore a morning coat and beamed with pride as they exchanged rings and vows.

  Later, as Drew carried his new bride across the threshold, she noticed that the photo of Eve that had always stood on the mantel was gone.

  Drew looked down into Kitty's soft eyes and kissed her. "I won't ever forget the past," he said gently. "But I promise you that I'm not going to live in it ever again. We start together, here, now. You're my wife, and I love you."

  "I love you, too," Kitty whispered tear­fully. She grinned even through the tears. "And now that we've made that clear, would you like to show me how much you love me?"

  He chuckled as he picked her up, gorgeous gown
and all, and carried her toward the bed­room. "I hope you ate a lot of cake," he said with a rakish grin. "Because this is going to take a very long time."

  And it did.

  3 Jobe Dodd

  "'Tis the last rose of summer,

  Left blooming alone;

  All her lovely companions

  Are faded and gone"

  -Thomas Moore Irish Melodies (1807-1834)

  The Last Rose of Summer, st. 1

  Chapter 1

  Sandy noticed that he looked absolutely disgusted. It was hard to get Jobe Dodd to stand still long enough to listen to anything she said. But when she was trying to get him to listen to her about computers, she might as well have saved her breath.

  "It's my brother's ranch," Sandy Regan said hotly, glaring at the tall blond ranch foreman. "He says you're going to modernize the record-keeping, so you're damned well going to modernize it!"

  Narrow gray eyes glittered down at her from an impossible height. Lean hands on lean hips made a visual statement about his opinion of her and her infernal machines without his saying a single word. He might not have a college degree, but he had arrogance down to a science.

  "Did you hear what I said? Ted said we're doing it!" she persisted, pushing back a strand of unruly dark hair. She was recovering at the ranch from a rough bout of influenza, where Ted's wife and Sandy's best friend, Coreen, had been nursing her. She was better. Or she had been, until now.

  "Ted still owns that ranch in Victoria," Jobe said pointedly in his deep, curt drawl, alluding to the ranch where he'd worked before Ted and Sandy had moved back to the old homeplace in Jacobsville. "No reason I couldn't go work up there."

  "Great idea. You can work there until Ted has me convert those records to computer files, too!"

  He gave her a level look guaranteed to provoke a saint. "I'll tell Ted you recommended it."

  Her lips made a thin line. She was furious. It was her long-standing reaction to this man, who had been her nemesis since her fifteenth birthday. He'd started working for Ted just before she went away to college, and the more she studied, the more he provoked her. He had a good sound high school education, followed by some vocational training in animal husbandry, but he knew next to nothing about electronic equipment. She did, and he resented her expertise. Not that he'd have admitted it.