A Woman's Touch by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

retorted crisply. „I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Kyle. Right now I have no idea what I’m going to do with Harmony Valley.“
    „Becky, you’re a reasonable woman. Most of the time, at any rate. You know damned well there’s nothing else you can do with this place except sell it. I can’t see you living out here alone the way Alice did. You’d go crazy.“
    „Maybe. Maybe not.“ Rebecca opened another drawer in the old desk.
    „Don’t fight me on this, baby,“ Kyle coaxed softly. „Sell me the land and everything will go back to the way it was between us. You’ll see. You were happy with me, Becky. Admit it.“
    „Ten days of living together is hardly long enough to produce an informed opinion on that subject,“ she said.
    „Look, there’s an old book in here.“
    „You only lived with me for ten days, but you’ve worked for me for two months. That time counts, too, Becky. We’
    ve gotten to know each other. We also happen to be wild about each other in bed. We belong together. Once you get over being upset about this business with Harmony Valley, you’ll realize I’m right. Give me a chance, Becky. You owe me that much. Sell me the land and I’ll prove that nothing has changed for us. Our relationship has nothing to do with this valley.“
    „It’s a journal,“ Rebecca said softly. She was paying no attention to Kyle as she turned the old, leather-bound volume over and over in her hands. „Or a diary.“ She opened it. „Seems to be a record of farm business along with a lot of personal notes.“
    „Becky,“ Kyle said deliberately, sensing he had lost her attention again. „Forget that stupid journal. I’m trying to talk to you about the serious situation in which we find ourselves. It’s important for couples to talk.“
    „Is it?“ she asked vaguely, frowning over the journal.
    „Well, of course it is,“ he exploded. „We’re supposed to communicate. Talk out our problems. Every fog-brained shrink who decides to write a book says stuff like that.“
    „I didn’t know you read that kind of stuff.“ Rebecca took one last glance around the small house. „And since when did you decide open communication between a man and a woman was such a hot idea? The only subject you’ve ever really opened up on with me was business.“
    „I like talking business with you,“ he shot back. „We understand each other. No reason we can’t communicate on other subjects, too.“
    „Some other time, perhaps,“ she said politely. „I think I’m finished here for today, Kyle. Please take me back to the motel. I want to think about all this.“
    Kyle recognized a stone wall when he ran straight into one. He backed off and tried another approach. „You can stay at the ranch,“ he said nonchalantly as he walked toward the door. „Plenty of room. I phoned the woman who cleans for me and warned her we’d be there tonight. She promised to stock the refrigerator and change the bed.“
    „I’m staying at the motel, Kyle.“
    He made a grab for his patience. „There are four bedrooms at the Flaming Luck. You can take your pick,“ he said harshly. The thought of her sleeping without him was hard to swallow, but he told himself he had to handle her carefully now.
    „I’m staying at the motel,“ Rebecca repeated. The journal was tucked under her arm as she went outside onto the porch.
    „Becky, it’s not even three o’clock. Come on over to the Flaming Luck with me. I’d like to show you the place.“
    „I can’t fit the tour into my schedule this afternoon, I’m afraid.“
    „What are you going to do? Sit around that dump of a motel all afternoon and evening? You’ll be bored to tears.“
    „No, I won’t. I’m going to read Alice’s journal. Catch up on a little local history.“
    „Alice Cork’s version of history?“
    „Why not?“
    „Don’t you think it will be slightly biased?“ he asked roughly.
    „History is always biased,“ she informed him mildly. „That’s