Darling Jenny Read Online Free Page B

old man snorted. 'S'pose that's an invitation to eat with me. Get yourselves over by the fire, and I'll go carve us up some steaks. Name's Carmichael,' he stated, thrusting a gnarled hand reluctantly towards Logan. 'She cook?' At the amused expression on Logan's face as he glanced towards Jennifer, the man shuffled over to the rack beside the door where his coat hung. 'Only two things I can't abide,' he said, 'a woman that can cook and one that can't.'
    Logan walked over to the fire and extended his hands to the flames as Jennifer joined him. He smiled down at her reassuringly.
    'He's quite a cantankerous old man, isn't he?' he said, glancing down at the shimmering copper highlights in her hair. She nodded agreement as he turned back to the fire. 'You'll want to change into some warmer clothes. I'll go back and get your cases.'
    'You really don't need to,' Jennifer protested. 'I can get by in what I'm wearing.'
    'Nonsense,' Logan retorted firmly. He stepped away from the fireplace to draw up a cane-backed rocker. Taking Jennifer's hand, he led her to the chair and sat her down. 'You wait here. I'll only be gone a minute.'
    'At least wait until you've warmed up some more.'
    'No. It's almost dusk now. If I wait any longer I'll be fumbling around in the dark.'
    Jennifer watched reluctantly as he buttoned up his coat and pulled on his gloves. With a cheery salute, he opened the door and went outside.
    He was being awfully kind, Jennifer thought, leaning back in the rocker to rest her feet on the hearth and wriggle her toes in the warmth from the fire. Of course, that was his nature, to be charming. Still, he could be a lot of fun just as long as you didn't take him too seriously. But what about Sheila? At this point in time, she probably would be terribly susceptible to Logan's type of man. And men like him had an uncanny knack of appearing to be what a woman wanted most in a man. Luckily, Brad Stevenson had taught Jennifer that lesson. Now she could look at Logan and see the amber caution light flashing its 'beware' sign.
    A whoosh of snow and wind announced the return of the grizzled old man as he stomped in through the door. He dropped his loosely wrapped package on the counter with a thud, ignoring Jennifer's smile of welcome.
    'Would you like me to help you with something?' she offered as he busied himself at the old range.
    'Nope, can't stand women in my kitchen.'
    At that moment Logan came hurrying in the door.
    'Brrr! I think it's getting worse out there,' he shuddered, knocking the snow off his trousers and boots as he set the cases down before walking over to warm himself by the fireplace.
    'Most likely is,' the old man remarked. 'One thing about Wyoming weather in the winter—you can be sure it's going to be one of three things: It's gonna snow until you swear the mountains got a bad case of dandruff; or it's gonna be colder than your wife's feet on a winter night, or the wind's gonna blow until your teeth chatter right out of your mouth. It's really hell when it does all three!'
    The rich, deep chuckle from Logan brought Jennifer's laughing eyes around to him.
    'Mr. Carmichael is right. You don't know what winter is until you've spent it in the Tetons, Jenny,' Logan smiled down at her warmly. 'Is there a place for her to change clothes?'
    'There's the privy. That door there on the left of the fireplace.' The old man nodded his head at the place. 'Promised Margaret forty years ago I'd get her indoor plumbing, but she up and died before I got it all put in. Those frozen pipes are a damned nuisance.'
    It was an extremely small room, as Jennifer found out. The large, four-legged, cast-iron bathtub took up most of the room, leaving her only about two feet of clear space for maneuvering. But she finally succeeded in getting the olive green slacks and sweater on without seriously banging herself into the wall.
    Later Jennifer was inspecting the wide selection of books in the makeshift bookcase sitting in the far corner of