Part 3 (1/2)

”My family does not drink alcohol,” she said. ”This is for sale.” She turned away from him and continued telling him the facts about the winery.

”You're a regular little encyclopedia, aren't you?” he said as they got back into the car.

Amanda, under other circ.u.mstances, might have thought his words were a compliment, but somehow his tone was not that of a compliment. She didn't know what to reply to him.

At 3:51, as Taylor's schedule said, she had the chauffeur return them to the ranch house so that they arrived back at precisely four p.m. Amanda suggested that Dr. Montgomery make use of their library, but he had given her an odd look, said he could take care of himself and had left the house. Later, Amanda had seen his little two-seater, topless car speed down the road toward town.

She sat down at her desk and tried to study her French textbook, but her hands were shaking. He was a very unsettling man. She had never been very good with strangers, but this man made her feel awkward and strange and, well, she didn't like to think this, but he somehow, well, made her feel angry. He didn't exactly sneer, he didn't ridicule, but somehow, she felt disapproval coming from him. Not disapproval of the ranch-at times he'd shown some interest in things, such as listening for the rustling sound a hop made when it was ripe-but she felt he disapproved of her.

She left her desk and went to the small mirror over the dresser. What was it about her that he disapproved of? Did he find her physically repulsive? Stupid? She had tried to be as accurate a guide as possible and had spent several days memorizing Taylor's facts about the ranch, but she felt she had failed. Were Dr. Montgomery's female students so much more erudite than she that by comparison she was a moron?

Again, she had that feeling of anger but she pushed it down and returned to her desk. Tomorrow she was scheduled to take him to a museum in Kingman and she had to tell him about Digger Indians, the Donner Party and early mining in the area. She had better review her facts.

Hank sat on a bar stool eating a three-inch-thick corned-beef sandwich and drinking a beer-his third.

What a little prig she was, he thought. What a self-righteous, know-it-all, fact-spouting little prig! She lectured him as if he were an elementary school student. She was the lady of the manor and she had been given the onerous task of entertaining the town blacksmith, an uneducated lout who didn't know a knife from a fork. He'd seen the way she looked down her little nose at him while they were eating that tasteless meal.

No doubt she thought of him the way her father thought of the laborers, that they should be grateful to get to work for so ill.u.s.trious a family as the Cauldens and how dare they ask for decent wages? Why, it should be enough that he allowed them to bask in his suns.h.i.+ne, to touch his crops. She, that sanctimonious little Miss Amanda, probably thought he was thrilled to get to stay in a house like theirs. Tomorrow she'll probably ask if I've ever seen a flush toilet before, he thought, slugging down the rest of his beer.

He wasn't sure what he should do. His instinct was to leave the Caulden house immediately, but he felt an obligation to the governor and, most of all, to the unionists. Maybe his presence could prevent trouble. Maybe he could watch out for the laborers' rights better if he were inside the Caulden house. Just being there, he might be able to stop something before it started. Logically, he knew he should stay. Emotionally, he wanted to get away from the cold little Amanda and her even colder fiance. And to think that when he'd first seen her he'd- He didn't know what it was that he'd felt, but she'd snowed on it and killed the seed.

He left the cool, dark bar and stepped into the bright sunlight, thrust his hands into his pockets and went to his car. It was about time for dinner at the Cauldens'. Wonder what they were having? Boiled chicken and boiled rice and boiled potatoes?

Amanda had never seen Taylor so angry.

”That is not the dress I told you to wear to dinner,” he said under his breath.

Amanda tried to keep her back straight and not cry. Taylor hated tears. ”I forgot. Dr. Montgomery upset me and-”

”Upset you how?” If possible, Taylor made himself taller. ”Was he forward with you?”

”No, he doesn't... I mean, I think he dislikes me.”

”Dislikes you?” Taylor was aghast. ”Amanda, I am surprised at you. I thought you above these female vapors. Did you follow the schedule? Did you explain to him each part of the ranch?”

”Yes, I did it exactly, to the minute as your schedule said.”

”Then there can have been nothing wrong. Now go upstairs and change your clothes and do not tell me any more of your fantasies. You are going to make me think that I have chosen the wrong woman to marry.”

”Yes, Taylor,” she whispered and went to her room. Alone in her room, dressing as fast as she could, she felt it again, that little gnawing sense of anger. She hadn't felt anger since Taylor came to live with them. Before he came she often felt anger. She used to get angry at her mother, at her father, at her friends at school.

Then her father had hired Taylor and given him absolute control over Amanda. He had taken her out of school in Kingman and started giving her private lessons. Things had changed then. Amanda soon learned that anger and/or defiance was a useless emotion; Taylor didn't allow either. He had put Amanda on a schedule that didn't allow for anger (4:13 p.m.

temper tantrum). No such thing was permitted. And he had hired Mrs. Gunston to make sure Amanda did what she was told.

Besides the cla.s.ses, Taylor had said Amanda's mother was a bad influence on her. After all, didn't Grace Caulden have a ”past”? J. Harker had agreed, and Grace had been sent to some expensive spas around the world, and when she returned, her daughter had not even been allowed to hug her h.e.l.lo. Grace had retired to a spare bedroom at the back of the top floor and had rarely come out since.

As Amanda started down the stairs again, she vowed she'd try harder to please Dr. Montgomery and therefore please Taylor.

Chapter Four.

Hank was late for dinner and he felt Taylor's cold displeasure as soon as he walked in the door. Was this house run like a military school? Again, J. Harker did not appear and it was just the three of them eating. If you could call what was on the plate eating. He'd been wrong about the menu. It was boiled chicken, boiled rice and boiled beets.

He couldn't keep his mouth shut. ”You feed your hands this well? No wonder unionists are choosing you to picket.”

Taylor gave him a look to freeze. ”It is better for the body to eat lightly. Amanda and I constantly fight gluttony.”

”You've won,” Hank said and pushed his plate away. ”You mind if I'm excused? I have some reading to do.”

”Amanda is finished also,” Taylor said. ”She would like to show you the almond orchard.”

”That's all right. I've seen a lot of the ranch today.” He got out of his chair and started toward the door.

Taylor gave Amanda a glare that let her know she was to follow the professor. With a yearning look toward her half-eaten food, she followed Dr. Montgomery.

Hank stopped when he heard her behind him. ”Afraid I'll see something I shouldn't?”

”I have no idea what you mean, Dr. Montgomery,” she said honestly.

”You wouldn't know where the kitchen was, would you?”

”Through there,” she said, pointing, then followed him. She had not been in the kitchen for years, not since Taylor had found her there one day eating milk and cookies. He had been horrified at her impending obesity.

In the center of the big kitchen was an oak table covered with many dishes: roast beef, gravy, at least five vegetables, yeast rolls, b.u.t.ter, fruit salad, green salad, and on a counter were three kinds of cake. The servants were sitting down to dinner, food halfway to their mouths when they stopped at the sight of Hank and Amanda.

”Miss Amanda!” the cook gasped and sprang to her feet.

Hank just gaped at the food. ”Mind if I join you?”

”No!” Amanda said, knowing that Taylor would be furious with her if she allowed him to sit with the servants. ”I mean-”

The cook, who had been with the family since Amanda was a baby, knew a great deal of what was going on. She also knew what this big, strapping, healthy Dr. Montgomery had been given to eat today. ”I'll fix you a plate,” she said to Hank.

”Yes,” was all he could say, his mouth watering. ”And from now on, I want real meals.”

She smiled at him. ”If Mr. Taylor will allow-”

”I will allow it,” Hank said, taking the heaping platter of food from her.

”Miss Amanda?” the cook said, holding out an empty plate.

Amanda didn't remember having seen so much food in her life and she felt fairly faint for wanting it. But Taylor wouldn't approve; he didn't like plump women. ”No, thank you,” she said at last.

”All right,” Hank said, ”take me to the almond orchard or someplace where I can sit down.”

Amanda went out the back door behind Hank, leaving the delicious smells behind her and following his fragrant plate like a hungry dog.