LITMIR.BIZ

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glad you know procedure, but so do I,” Stuart replied. “I phoned Lou before I gave it to her.” He glanced toward the clock on the bedside table. “It should be taking effect very soon.”

      It was. Ivy could hardly keep her eyes open. “I’m very sleepy,” she murmured, amazed at the sudden easing of the pain that had been so horrific at first.

      “Good. When you wake up, your head will feel normal again,” Stuart told her.

      “Thanks, Stuart,” she said, the words slurring as the powerful medication did its job.

      “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I know a thing or two about migraines.”

      “And she taught you a thing or two about seeing the doctor for medicine that actually helped them,” Merrie couldn’t resist saying.

      He didn’t reply. His eyes were on Ivy’s face as she went to sleep. He lifted the washcloth and took it away. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing regulated. He was glad that the cover was up to her chin, so that he didn’t have to see that perfect body again and lie awake all night remembering it.

      He got up from the bed, gently so as not to awaken her, the washcloth still clutched in his hand.

      “That was nice of you, to get her something to take,” Merrie said as they left Ivy’s room.

      He shrugged. “I know how it feels.”

      “How did you come out in Oklahoma?” she asked.

      “Everything’s ready for the auction,” he replied. “I still can’t believe they let me down like that at the Jacobsville sales barn.”

      “They don’t have a history of messing up the different lots of cattle they sell,” she said in their defense.

      “One mistake that big can be expensive,” he reminded her. “In this economic climate, even we have to be careful. Losing the Japanese franchise hurt us.”

      “It hurt the Harts and the Dunns worse,” she replied. “They’d invested a lot in organic beef to send over there. They were sitting in clover when the ban hit.”

      “But they recovered quickly, and so did we, by opening up domestic markets for our organic beef. This organic route is very profitable, and it’s going to be even more profitable when people realize how much it contributes to good health.”

      “Our signature brand sells out quickly enough in local markets,” she agreed.

      “And even better in big city markets,” he replied. “How’s school?”

      She grinned. “I’m passing everything. In two years, I’ll be working in a ward.”

      “You could come home and go to morning coffees and do volunteer work,” he reminded her with a smile.

      She shook her head, returning the smile. “I’m not cut out for an easy, cushy life. Neither are you. We come from hardworking stock.”

      “We do.” He bent and brushed his mouth over her cheek. “Sleep tight.”

      “Are you home for the weekend?”

      He glanced at her. “Are you wearing body armor?”

      “You and Ivy could get along for two days,” she pointed out.

      “Only if you blindfold me and gag her.”

      She blinked. “Excuse me?”

      “It’s an in-joke,” he said. “I have to fly to Denver tomorrow to give a speech at the agriculture seminar on the subject of genetically engineered grain,” he added.

      She grimaced. “Don’t come home with a bloody nose this time, will you?”

      He shrugged. “I’m only playing devil’s advocate,” he told her. “We can’t make it too easy on people who want to combine animal cells and vegetable cells and call it progress.” His pale eyes began to glitter. “One day, down the road, we’ll pay for this noble meddling.”

      She reached up and touched his face. “Okay, go slug it out with the progressives, if you must. I’ll treat Ivy to the new Imax movie about Mars.”

      “Mars?”

      “She loves Mars,” Merrie told him.

      “I’d love to send her there,” he replied thoughtfully. “We could strap her to a rocket...”

      “Stop that. She’s my best friend.”

      He shook his head. “The things I do for you,” he protested. “Okay, I’ll settle for sending her to the moon.”

      “She’s only just lost her father, her house and she’ll soon lose her inheritance as well,” she said solemnly. “I could strangle Rachel for what she’s done.”

      He could have strangled Rachel himself, for the lies she’d fed him about Ivy. He should have known better. She’d never been forward with men, to his knowledge. He was certain now that she wasn’t. But he wondered why Rachel would make a point of downgrading her to him. Perhaps it was as Ivy said—her sister wanted him to stay out of the probate of her father’s will. Poor Ivy. She’d never get a penny if Rachel had her way.

      “You look very somber,” Merrie observed.

      “Ivy should have had the house, at least,” he said, betraying the line of his thoughts.

      “She couldn’t have lived there, even if she’d inherited it,” she told him. “There’s no money for utilities or upkeep. She can barely keep herself in school and pay her rent.”

      His eyes narrowed. “We could pay it for her.”

      “I tried,” Merrie replied. “Ivy’s proud. She won’t accept what she thinks of as charity.”

      “So she works nights and weekends to supplement that pitiful amount of money her aunt left her,” he grumbled. “At least one of those mechanics she keeps books for is married and loves to run around with young women.”

      “He did ask Ivy out,” Merrie replied.

      He looked even angrier. “And?”

      “She accidentally dropped a hammer on his foot,” Merrie chuckled. “He limped for a week, but he never asked Ivy out again. The other men had a lot of fun at his expense.”

      He felt a reluctant admiration for their houseguest. If she’d been older, his interest might have taken a different form. But he had to remember her age.

      “Rachel called her today harping about the probate,” she said slowly. “I expect that’s why she had the migraine. Rachel worries her to death.”

      “She needs to learn to stand up to her sister.”

      “Ivy isn’t like that. She loves Rachel, in spite of the way she’s been treated by her. She doesn’t have any other relatives left. It must be lonely for her.”

      “She’ll toughen up. She’ll have to.” He stretched. “I’m going to bed. I probably won’t see you before I leave. I’ll be back sometime Monday. You can reach me on my cell phone if anything important comes up.”

      “Chayce handles the ranch very well. I expect we’ll cope,” she said, smiling. “Have fun.”

      “In between fistfights, I might,” he teased. “See you.”

      “See you.”

      He went back to his room and closed the door. He had to put Ivy out of his mind and never let history repeat itself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have himself photographed with some pretty socialite. He didn’t like publicity, but he couldn’t take the chance that Ivy might warm up to him.

      He recalled reluctantly the dossier a private detective had assembled on Ivy’s father. The man had been a closet alcoholic and abusive to his late

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