The Listening Sky Read Online Free Page B

much about the lumber business,
     but he knew a hell of a lot more about women than Kilkenny did. His friend of many years would not be at all happy to find
     Patrice here in Timbertown. T.C. wasn’t happy about it either, but there was nothing to do now but talk to her, find out why
     she had come, and offer to send her back to the stage station.
    He looked out the front window to see the woman leaving the cookshack. Herb would have told her to come here. T.C. sat down
     behind a square table he used as a desk. It was cluttered with papers and ledgers. He was not only unskilled in handling women,
     he was in desperate need of someone to put all this paperwork in order. Garrick Rowe, the mill owner, had promised to send
     a bookkeeper down from Trinity. If the man didn’t arrive soon his job would become impossible.
    Kilkenny’s house was square, two-storied, with porches on the front and back. The four rooms on the ground floor were divided
     by a central hall running from the front door straight through to the back. The front two rooms were T.C.’s office and his
     bedroom. The back two were the kitchen and the surgery where Dr. Foote reigned—when he was sober. The kitchen was seldom used
     since it was easier to walk across the street to the cookhouse. The three upstairs bedrooms were occupied by the doctor, Herb
     and Colin, when he was there.
    Kilkenny heard the sound of heels on the porch, then the opening of the door. He stood as Herb ushered Patrice Cabeza into
     the office.
    “Good morning, Señora Cabeza.”
    “Good morning, T.C.” Her voice was soft and had the flavor of her Spanish ancestors. “I prefer to be called Patrice Guzman.”
    “Sit down, Señora Guzman.”
    “We’ve known each other a long time,
T.C.
Too long to be so formal.”
    Large dark eyes studied the man behind the desk. As Patrice arranged her colorful shawl about her shoulders, the large silver
     rings in her ears moved against the olive skin of her neck. Hair as black as midnight hung straight and shiny to her waist.
     She was well aware of her beauty.
    “Why have you come here?” T.C. asked bluntly, then added, “I think I know—”
    “—Of course, you do.”
    “Colin isn’t here.”
    “He will be sooner or later. He usually shows up where you are and vice versa.”
    “How is your husband?”
    She shrugged. “Same.”
    “Does he know you’re here?”
    “I hope not. Look at your papers, T.C. You’ll find Bertha Kotch’s application.”
    He snorted. “Bertha Kotch? My, my what an imagination you have.”
    Not a flicker of amusement showed in Patrice’s dark eyes.
    “I have left Ramon.”
    “It doesn’t take a law degree to figure that out. Why? He gave you everything you wanted. You couldn’t see Colin for dirt
     after meeting Ramon.”
    “—What is between me and Colin is none of your business.”
    “This town is my business. I want you to leave. If you stay, you’ll be nothing but trouble.”
    “You need cooks, seamstresses, laundresses”—a faint smile touched her lips—”women for your loggers.”
    “I can’t see you doing any of those things.”
    “Why not? I’ll work until Colin gets here.”
    “And then?”
    “We’ll see.”
    “If I remember right, Señora, you are quite useless at anything other than what will benefit Patrice Guzman Cabeza.”
    “I have a strong sense of self-preservation… as you have.” She lifted her brows and spoke softly. “Can you fault me for that?”
    “Have you ever
not
gotten what you wanted?” His voice was hard and impatient.
    “A few times.”
    “I’ll send you back to the stage station. Get your things—”
    “I’m not going. If you try to make me, I’ll raise such a stink half the
single
women you brought in will go with me. And men, real men, don’t like to see a
lady
abused. You employed me to come here and work. What possible reason can you give for sending me away?”
    “I don’t need to
give
a reason, but if I did it would be that