Donavan

She forced a smile. “You needn’t worry. I wasn’t planning to follow you around with a wedding band on a hook or anything. I just wanted to thank you for what you did.”

“You’ve done that. So?”

“I…have a lot of work to get through. I’m only temporary,” she added quickly. “Just until Nita comes back. When I get my legacy, I’ll be on the first plane back to Georgia. Honest.”

His dark eyebrows plunged above the straight bridge of his nose. “I don’t remember asking for any explanations.”

“Excuse me, then.” She turned her attention back to her keyboard; her hands were cold and numb. She forced them to work. She didn’t look up, either. He’d made her feel like what came out of a sausage grinder.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t linger, either. His measured footsteps went out the door immediately, leaving the pungent scent of cigar smoke in their wake.

Calhoun came back out five minutes later, checking his watch. “I have to be out of the office for an hour or so. Tell Justin when he comes back, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling.

He hesitated, his narrowed eyes registering the hurt on her face that she couldn’t hide. “Listen, Fay, don’t let him upset you,” he added quietly. “He doesn’t really mean things as personally as they sound, but he rubs everybody the wrong way except Justin.”

“He saved me from a bad situation,” she began. “I only wanted to thank him, but he seemed to think I had designs on him or something. My goodness, he thought I came to work here because he did business with you!”

He laughed. “Can’t blame him. Several have, and no, I’m not kidding. The more he snarls, the harder some women chase him. He’s a catch, too. He makes good money with Mesa Blanco, and his own ranch is nothing to laugh at.”

“Mesa…Blanco?” she stammered, as puzzle pieces began to make a pattern in her mind.

“Sure. Didn’t he introduce himself before?” He smiled ruefully. “I guess not. Well, that was J. D. Langley.”

Chapter 3

Fay got through the rest of the day without showing too much of her heartache. She’d had hopes that Donavan might have felt something for her, but he’d dashed those very efficiently. He couldn’t have made it more obvious that he wanted no part of her or her monied background. He wouldn’t believe that she had to work. Well, of course, she didn’t, really. But he might have given her the benefit of the doubt.

It hadn’t been a terrible shock to learn that he was J. D. Langley. He did live down to his publicity. Later, she’d found out that Donavan was his middle name and what he was called locally, except by people who did business with him. She certainly understood why the Ballengers hated to see him coming.

She was sorry about his hostility, because the first time she’d ever seen him, there had been a tenderness between them that she’d never experienced. It must have all been on one side, though, she decided miserably.

Well, she told herself as she lay trying to sleep that night, she’d do better to stop brooding and concentrate on her own problems. She had enough, without adding the formidable Mr. Langley to them.

But fate was conspiring against her. The next day, she tried a new cafeteria in Jacobsville and came face-to-face with J. D. Langley as she sat down with her tray.

He gave her a glare that would have stopped traffic. He’d obviously just finished his meal. He was draining his coffee cup. Fay turned her chair so that she wasn’t looking directly at him and, with unsteady hands, took her food off the tray.

“I told you yesterday,” Donavan said at her shoulder, “that I don’t like being chased. Didn’t you listen?”

The whip of his voice cut. Not only that, it was loud enough to attract attention from other diners in the crowded room.

Fay’s face went red as she glanced at him apprehensively, her green eyes huge as they met the fierce silvery glitter of his.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here…” she began uneasily.

“No?” he challenged, his smile an insult in itself. “You didn’t recognize my car sitting in the parking lot? Give it up, debutante. I don’t like bored little rich girls, so stop following me around. Got that?”

He turned and left the cafeteria. Fay was too humiliated by the unwanted attention to enjoy much of her meal. She left quickly and went back to work.

Following him around, indeed, she muttered to herself while she fed data into her computer. She didn’t know what kind of car he drove. The only vehicle she’d seen him in was a battered gray pickup truck, had he forgotten? Perhaps he thought she’d seen his car when he’d come to the feedlot, but she hadn’t. The more she saw of him the less she liked him, and she’d hardly been hounding him. She certainly wouldn’t again, he could bank on that!

Abby came in the next afternoon with an invitation. “Calhoun and I have to go to a charity ball tonight. I know it’s spur-of-the-moment, but would you like to come?”

“Will my uncle be there, do you think?” Fay asked.

“I hardly think so.” Abby grinned. “Come on. You’ve been moping around here for two days, it will be good for you. You can ride with us, and there’s a very nice man I want to introduce you to when we get there. He’s unattached, personable and rich enough not to mind that you are.”

“Uh, Mr. Langley…?”

“I heard what happened in Cole’s Café.” Abby grimaced. “J.D. doesn’t go to charity balls, so you aren’t likely to run into him there.”

“Thank God. He was so kind to me the night I met him, but he’s been terrible to me ever since. I only wanted to thank him. He thinks I have designs on him.” She shuddered. “As if I’d ever chased a man in my life…!”

“You’re not J.D.’s kind of woman, Fay,” the older woman said gently. “Your wealth alone would keep him at bay, without the difference in your ages. J.D.’s in his early thirties, and he doesn’t like younger women.”

“I don’t think he likes any women,” Fay replied with a sigh. “Especially me. But I wasn’t chasing him, honestly!”

“Don’t let it worry you.”

“You’re sure he won’t be there tonight?”

“Absolutely positive,” Abby assured her.

Prophetic words. Abby and Calhoun picked Fay up at her apartment house, and drove her to the elegant Whitman estate where the charity ball was already in progress. Fay was wearing a long, white silk dress with one shoulder bare and her hair in a very elegant braided bun atop her head. She looked young and fragile…and very rich.

They went through the receiving line and Fay moved ahead of Calhoun and Abby to the refreshment table while they spoke to an acquaintance. She bumped into someone and turned to apologize.

“Again?” J. D. Langley asked with a vicious scowl. “My God, do you have radar?”

Fay didn’t say a word. She turned and went back toward Abby and Calhoun, her heart pounding in her chest.

Abby spotted J.D. and grimaced. “I didn’t know,” she told a shattered Fay. “I swear I didn’t. Here, you stick close to us. He won’t bother you. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Bart and that will solve all your problems. I’m sorry, Fay.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s fate, I guess,” she said dryly, although her eyes were troubled.

“Arrogant beast,” Abby muttered, sparing the tall, elegant man in the dinner jacket a speaking glance. “If he were a little less conceited, you wouldn’t have this problem.” She drew Fay forward. “Here he is. Bart!”

A thin, lazy-looking man with wavy blond hair and mischievous blue eyes turned as his name was called. He greeted Abby warmly and glanced at Fay with open curiosity and delight.

“Well, well, Greek goddesses are back in style again, I see. Do favor me with a waltz before you set off for Mount Olympus, fair damsel.”

“This is our newest employee, Fay York,” she introduced them. “Fay, this is Bartlett Markham. He’s president of the local cattlemen’s association.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. “Do you know cattle?”

“I grew up on a ranch. I work for a firm of accountants now, but my family still has a pretty formidable Santa Gertrudis purebred operation.”