Song of the West by Nora Roberts Page A

about to make some tea.”
    Sabrina appeared at that moment, and Samantha gladly relinquished the role of hostess and escaped to the kitchen.
    â€œSo, she’s beautiful,” she grumbled to an unconcerned Shylock as she set the kettle on to boil. “So, she’s smooth and sophisticated and makes me feel like a pile of dirty laundry.” Turning, she lowered her face to his and scowled. “Who cares?” Shylock scowled back and went to sleep. Her thoughts wandered on. “I don’t imagine he’s ever laughed at her and patted her head as though she were a slow-witted child,” she muttered as she gathered up the tea tray.
    â€œSabrina, you look wonderful,” Lesley commented sometime later, sipping from a dainty china cup. “I’m sure having your sister with you must be very good for you. I don’t have to tell you how concerned everyone has been.”
    â€œNo, and I appreciate it. Sam’s made everything so easy. I didn’t have anything to do but sit and heal.” She shot her sister an affectionate glance. “I don’t know what we would have done without her these past two months.”
    Lesley followed her gaze. “Jake was telling me that you’re a gym teacher, Samantha,” she purred, managing to make this sound faintly disgusting.
    â€œPhysical education instructor,” Samantha corrected, slipping into a vague southern drawl.
    â€œAnd you were in the Olympics, as well. I’m sure it must have been fascinating. You don’t look the sturdy, athletic type.” The shrug of her shoulders was elegant, as was the small gesture of her hand. “I suppose one can never tell.” Samantha gritted her teeth against a biting retort and was vastly relieved when, glancing at a slender gold watch, Lesley suddenly rose from her chair. “I must run now, Sabrina, I have a dinner engagement.” Turning to Samantha, she offered a small smile. “So happy to have met you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
    She left amid a swirl of fur and the drifting scent of roses. Samantha sat back in the cushioned chair, relaxing for the first time in more than an hour.
    â€œWell, what did you think of Lesley?” Sabrina questioned, shifting into a more comfortable position on the sofa.
    â€œVery sophisticated.”
    â€œCome on, Sam.” Sabrina grinned, her hands folding across the mound of her belly. “This is Bree.”
    â€œI don’t know why I should have to comment, since you seem to be reading me so well. But—” her mouth curved into a rueful smile “—I suppose she’s a bit smooth for my taste, and I didn’t much care for the way she looked down that aristocratic nose at me.”
    â€œActually, you really don’t appear very sturdy.” The observation was made with wide-eyed innocence. Samantha grimaced, pulling pins from her hair with a sharp tug until a cascade of golden brown tumbled in confusion about her shoulders.
    â€œShe’d have gotten her own back on that one if you hadn’t sent me that ‘Don’t make a scene’ look.”
    â€œOh, well, Lesley can be nice enough when it suits her. Her father spoils her dreadfully. Her mother died when she was barely into her teens, and he transferred all his attention to Lesley. An overabundance of clothes, the best horses, and, as she grew older, cars and European tours and so on. Whatever Lesley wants, Lesley gets.”
    â€œPoor thing.” The sarcasm caused her to feel spiteful and unjust. She sighed. “I suppose too much is as bad as too little. It was nice of her to come and see how you were getting along.”
    Sabrina’s laughter floated through the room. “Sam, darling, I’ve never known you to be so slow.” At her sister’s puzzled expression, she continued. “Lesley didn’t come to see me, she came to get a look at you.”
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