Heart of Winter by Diana Palmer Page B

movies.”
    â€œWith screaming and lots of victims,” Nicole chided.
    Mary stared at her, stone-faced. “Beats all those noisy machines.”
    Nicole laughed delightfully. “I guess so. How did Mrs. Todd do tonight?”
    â€œDone fine. We had pudding. I like pudding.”
    â€œSo do I,” Nicole said, smiling. “It was a good party. Winthrop and I started the dancing.”
    Mary’s eyes widened. “Winthrop was dancing?”
    â€œYes. He does it very well.”
    â€œHe used to,” Mary agreed. “But I have not seen him dance since the accident. How did you manage it?”
    Nicole chewed her lip a little and peeked at Mary. “I stood in front of him on the dance floor and wouldn’t move.”
    Mary laughed. She did it seldom, but when she did, it was wholeheartedly. “Good medicine,” she told the younger woman. “We should bottle you.”
    â€œI’d most likely ferment and become illegal. There’s Gerald.”
    He joined them, looking a bit hot under the collar and flustered. He grinned. “Ready to go?”
    â€œBeen ready quite some time,” Mary said. “Long past my bedtime.”
    â€œThere, there, too much sleep can kill a good woman,” Gerald said soothingly. “Think of how I’m saving you from certain death.”
    â€œSaving me from much needed rest,” Mary countered, climbing into the pickup between him and Nicole. “Winthrop danced, she tell you?”
    â€œShe didn’t have to. I saw it with my own eyes,” he volunteered, grinning past her at Nicole. “I wish I could have taken a picture. Nobody will believe it.”
    â€œIsn’t it cloudy tonight?” Nicole was trying to change the subject, but it really did look cloudy, and it was getting colder.
    â€œSnow clouds,” Mary said. “We get buried in snow pretty soon.”
    â€œNot in November,” Nicole said.
    â€œThis is Montana. Snow comes early and late—you can’t predict mountain weather. And snow in November is pretty routine,” her boss informed her. “Lord, I hope we don’t get shut up with that horsey set from back East. They’ll be here tomorrow.” He glanced at Nicole. “By the way, one of Winthrop’s guests is from Kentucky, an expert on thoroughbreds. Winthrop wants him to take a look at the colt and give him an opinion. He wouldn’t be able to race it for a couple of years, of course, but he’s thinking along those lines.”
    Nicole knew a number of people in the horsey set. She was afraid of meeting someone from her old life, someone who knew her father, who might tell him where she was and what she was doing now. She didn’t want him to know anything about her new life. There were deep scars from those young years. She wanted nothing to do with the man who’d driven her mother into a succession of lovers, followed by a fatal accident. Nothing at all.
    â€œDid he tell you the man’s name?” Nicole asked quietly.
    Gerald glanced at her. “As a matter of fact he did,” he replied. He grinned ruefully. “But I was on the phone at the time and I didn’t catch it. There’s a Murdock woman, and a couple of brothers named Harris. But I don’t think the Harrises know much about horses.”
    Nicole consoled herself with the thought that there must be hundreds of horsey sportsmen in the world besides her father. She only nodded, closing her eyes as they went back to the Christopher ranch.
    The house was quiet when they got there. If Nicole had hoped to see Winthrop again, she was disappointed. He was nowhere in sight. She said good-night to Mary and Gerald and went reluctantly to her room.
    She didn’t sleep. She lay awake staring at the ceiling for what seemed hours. Finally she got up and decided to make herself a cup of hot chocolate. Perhaps that would do the trick; she really couldn’t stay awake all