Rough Diamonds: Wyoming Tough / Diamond in the Rough

Mallory, standing in the doorway, was shocked speechless. Tank, closer, smiled as he sank into an easy chair. A minute later, Cane heard the exquisite score and came into the room, as well, perching on the sofa.

Lost in the music, Morie played with utter joy. It had been weeks since she’d had access to a piano, and this one was top quality. It had been tuned recently, as well. The sounds that came from it were as exquisite as the score she was playing with such expression.

When the final, poignant crescendo was reached and she played the last notes, there was an utter stillness in the room and, then, exuberant applause.

She got up, embarrassed and flushed. “I only play a little,” she protested. “Thanks.”

Mallory was staring at her through narrowed eyes. “Aren’t you full of surprises, for a poor cowgirl,” he remarked with faint suspicion.

She bit her lower lip, hard. “All of us have natural talent of some sort. I always knew how to play. I played by ear for a long time, then this nice lady took me in and tutored me where I worked last.” Actually, it had been Heather Everett, who played as well as she sang.

“And where was that, did you say?” Mallory persisted.

But this time he didn’t catch her out. “The Story Ranch outside Billings.” She happened to know that the ranch had been sold after the owner’s death. There was nobody who could deny her story. And she could always give him the phone number of the housekeeper who’d promised to cover her allegations.

Mallory actually looked disappointed. “I see.”

“He was a grand old fellow to work for,” she elaborated. “He had a piano and he let me practice on it. I was heartbroken when he died.” She was certain that she would have been, if she’d known him. Her father spoke of the old gentleman with great affection. He knew him from cattlemen’s conventions.

“You have a real talent,” Cane remarked. “Have you thought about a career using it?”

“Shut up,” Mallory said at once, glaring at his brother. “I’m not looking for a new hire to look after my prize heifers because she—” he indicated her “—wants to go off looking for a recording contract!”

“She should use her talent,” Cane argued hotly. “She’s wasting her life working for pennies, using up her health lifting heavy limbs off fences! Down the road, she’ll pay for all this physical labor. She’s too slightly built to even be doing it!”

Mallory knew that, but it irritated him that his brother had pointed it out to him. “She asked for the job and was willing to do whatever it involved!” he shot back.

Cane stood up, dark eyes glittering. “And you’re taking advantage of it!”

“You could send somebody with her to ride fences,” Tank interjected, stepping between the brothers. He smiled at Morie, who was looking with stifled horror at the confrontation she’d provoked so innocently. “In fact, I could ride them with her. I’ve got enough time free.”

“Or I could,” Cane said shortly. “You need to work on marketing for the production sale. I’m the one with the most free time.”

“She works for me, damn it!” Mallory ground out. “I tell her what to do. You don’t hire and fire! Either of you! Personnel problems are my business!”

“I am not a problem!” Morie said, and stomped her foot at the three brothers. “Listen, I don’t mind doing whatever my job calls for, honest I don’t. I really appreciate your kindness. But I just work here. I’m a hired hand.”

They stared at her.

“Your hands are precious,” Cane said gently, and with feeling, because he only had one left and he knew better than any of the other brothers how precious they truly were. “You mustn’t risk them on physical labor.”

“I’ll buy her a pair of damned gloves, then!” Mallory snapped. “Want me to hire a companion for her, to do the hard jobs, while I’m at it?”

Morie felt sick. She lowered her eyes and moved away. “I’ll get back to work,” she said in a faint tone. “I never meant to cause trouble. I’m really sorry.”

She went out the door before they could stop her.

“Oh, you’re a real prince,” Cane shot at his older brother. “Now she’s upset!”

“I should go after her,” Tank agreed.

“I’ll go after her,” Cane replied curtly, starting for the door.

“What the hell is the matter with you two?” Mallory demanded hotly. “She’s an employee! She’s a hire!”

They glared at him.

“You’ve already forgotten Vanessa, have you?” he asked with a cold smile.

They sobered at once.

“She was handing our family heirlooms out the window to her lover, when we caught her,” he reminded them. “She was sweet and caring, and the best cook in two counties. She pampered us. Brought hot chocolate and cookies out to the barn in the snow when we couldn’t leave sick bulls. Made soup for us when we had to take turns staying in the line cabins, before market prices shot up. Treated us like princes. And all the while, she was pricing the stuff in the cabinets, the paintings, the silver services, the china, the crystal that was in our family for a hundred years.”

They looked shamefaced.

“She came with excellent references, too,” Mal-lory continued. “Except when I finally got around to checking them out, they were bogus. She lied even when we caught her red-handed. Her lover had made her do it. She was innocent. She loved working for us. She’d do anything if we’d forgive her and let her come back. She’d testify against her lover, even.”

“But she had a record as long as my leg,” Tank put in quietly.

“And a real talent for lying.” Cane nodded.

“And we almost lost the ranch because she sued us for defamation of character and sexual harassment, of which we were totally innocent.”

“Good thing the jury believed us,” Cane replied.

“Good thing we had the best damned attorney in Wyoming,” Mallory agreed. “We can’t afford to trust people we don’t know. Gelly is already suspicious of Morie, and she’s come to me twice with stories that Morie denies and makes light of.” He shifted. “I don’t trust her.” He didn’t add that his own great physical attraction to her was one of his biggest issues. It made him vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to trust his instincts, when they might be leading him down a dark road. “She knows how to make canapés and plan society dos, and play the piano like a professional. It doesn’t jibe with her job description.”