Western Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

health—andwomen,” her father answered, “but not necessarily in that order. If they’re married, you can add family to the list. Not a very mysterious list, is it?”
    “No.” Sharon had to laugh at her attempt to make something complicated out of a simple statement.
    As soon as the meal was finished, Scott left the table to ring through to the Latigo ranch. Sharon helped her mother clear the table, stowing the leftovers in the refrigerator and stacking the dishes in the sink to wash.
    “Mom!” Scott called to her from the front room. “Ridge wondered if you would be able to cook for the crew. And he wants to know if Sharon can lend a hand too.”
    “Tell him,” her father inserted before either could answer, “that I don’t know if I like the idea of him hiring away my whole crew.” It was meant as a good-natured gibe between friends.
    There was a moment’s pause while Scott relayed the message, then came back with a reply. “Ridge says that’s the risk you take when you have a good crew willing to work cheap. It isn’t his fault we work for you for nothing.”
    Sharon heard her father’s hearty chuckle and walked to the doorway. “Scott, tell Ridge I can spare two days.” The new horses she was working would probably benefit from a short respite from the training routine. “But—I don’t come cheap. If he wants me, he’ll have to pay top dollar.”
    Scott repeated her answer into the telephone. A grinsplit his face at the response. “I don’t think I’ll tell her the last part.”
    “Tell me what?” she insisted with a wary look.
    He placed a covering hand over the mouthpiece. “Ridge said he doesn’t mind paying you top dollar.” He hesitated, the light in his eyes dancing brighter.
    “Is that all?” Sharon knew it wasn’t.
    “Not quite.” Scott tried to contain his smile. “He said there’s always more than one way to get your money’s worth out of a woman.”
    “Tell him not to worry. I come with a money-back guarantee if not completely satisfied.” This time she was the one with the gleam in her eye and Scott was the one hesitant about passing on the message.
    Her father cleared his throat and reached for his cigar. Her mother had appeared in the doorway behind Sharon and he arched her a considering look. “Might be that you should go along with this young girl of yours, Lena.”
    “My girl?” she countered. “She sounds more like you.” But she glanced at her son. “Tell him I’ll stop over tomorrow and check the camp kitchen and supplies to make sure nothing’s been forgotten.” She didn’t wait to hear Scott relaying her message as she nudged Sharon’s arm. “Do you want to wash or dry the dishes?”
    “I’ll wash.” She turned and followed her mother to the kitchen sink.
    When she turned on the faucets, the noise ofrunning water drowned out the sound of her brother’s telephone conversation in the front room. Mechanically Sharon began washing the glasses first, but her thoughts were turned ahead. She had never worked with Ridge before, so she couldn’t help wondering about tins new kind of experience with him. But she was careful not to start imagining possibilities.
    “I thought you liked Andy,” her mother remarked, interrupting her silent reverie.
    “I do.” Sharon glanced at her in surprise.
    “At the table tonight, you seemed to stress the point that he is just a friend.” She took a great deal of time to wipe one glass when she usually zipped over it with a few efficient swipes of the towel.
    “He is a friend,” Sharon insisted. “If I was trying to make anything clear, it was simply that I’m not on the verge of marrying him—as everybody seems to think.”
    “You mean Scott?”
    “And Ridge, too.”
    The mention of his name by Sharon produced a long, heavy silence. Her mother was completely aware of Sharon’s previous infatuation with Ridge, and how Sharon had loved him with the blind intensity only an adolescent can attain. She