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“You’re just a babe in the woods.”
    Her pale green eyes fixed on him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? But, Jim, you can’t possibly think…after all, he’s engaged to Amanda.”
    â€œCurry? Engaged?” Maude broke in. “He must want that redheaded scarecrow pretty bad to marry her.”
    â€œWatch what you say in front of the boy,” Jim growled.
    â€œWhy? He’s almost fourteen,” Maude replied, “and he probably already knows more than you want him to.”
    â€œCurry’s fond of Mandy,” Eleanor said, taking up for the girl.
    â€œBut he doesn’t love her,” Maude came back hotly. “I’ve heard him say a hundred times that he’d never let any woman tangle up his heart the way his mother tangled his father’s. The old mankilled himself when his wife divorced him, you know.”
    Eleanor nodded, sipping at her tea. “It’s something he’s never talked about.”
    â€œProbably because it hurt too bad. No, miss,” Maude said with set lips, “you’ll never see Curry in love with a woman. But if he wanted one bad enough and couldn’t get her any other way, he’d marry her. And don’t you think that redheaded hussy doesn’t know it! She’s got about as much place on a ranch as I have in Saks Fifth Avenue!”
    â€œDoing what, scrubbing floors?” Jim teased. “By the way, did Anderson call me back about that auction over in Alabama?”
    And with the shifting of conversation, Eleanor was able to sit back and relax and stop thinking about her incorrigible boss. For the time being, anyway. And she dreaded going back to the ranch more with every second that passed.

Four
    S he stayed at the ranch with Jim and his family until late, and when Jim suggested that they stop by the local disco for a drink, she was all eagerness.
    The music was loud and throbbing and made her bones go weak. Around them people were laughing and enjoying themselves, and Eleanor felt some of their gaiety chasing her grimness away. She’d never had more than a sherry before, butshe persuaded Jim, against his better judgment, to buy her her first whiskey sour. The strong taste and smell of it was dampening at first but she found that the more she drank of it, the better she liked it. Her face began to brighten up. Her muscles began to feel loose. And all at once, all her cares and worries dissolved into music and laughter.
    By the time they left the bar, Eleanor was singing the “Yellow Rose of Texas” at the top of her lungs.
    She was still going strong when they reached the ranch house. Jim pulled up in front of the two-story white structure, with its lights blazing ominously.
    â€œEleanor, I can’t let you go in there like this,” Jim said grimly.
    â€œSure you can!” she exclaimed with a hiccup and a smile. She struggled with the door handle and spilled out into the night with a little laugh. “Oh, I’m soooo relaxed!” she told him.
    He got out, too, and, taking her arm,escorted her up the steps onto the porch, just as Curry came out the door. His silver eyes were blazing, his hair was rumpled by his restless fingers, his tie was off, his shirt was unbuttoned—he was the picture of impatient waiting.
    â€œIt’s about damned well time you got home,” he growled at Eleanor, who grinned at him.
    â€œShe wanted a whiskey sour,” Jim explained wearily. “I never should have…”
    â€œHell, no, you never should,” Curry cut at him. “Did you bring her straight here?”
    Jim’s lips compressed. “One more remark like that and I’ll deck you!” he said flatly.
    Curry reached out to take Eleanor by the arm. “I’ll have Bessie look after her,” he said. “Don’t let your engine get cold.”
    Jim glared at him. “Lose your shotgun?” he challenged quietly.
    Curry took a deep