Free Diamond Spur by Diana Palmer Page A

it that she felt defensive about Jason. Despite her proud defense, she liked a few of his old-fashioned attitudes. In the modern world, where rough language and frank discussions were a matter of course, it was sometimes refreshing to be treated like a lady. Not that Jason cared much who was around when he lost his temper, she mused, but he'd never let Kate near his cows and heifers at breeding time or expose her to cattle that were being put down because of illness. Apparently he thought women were too delicate for that kind of thing.
    She'd asked him once why he didn't want her around the breeding stock, just in passing. He'd said something that had puzzled her at the time—that he didn't want her to get the wrong idea about it because the cows would sound as if they were in pain and he didn't want her to be frightened of a natural process. Now that she was older, and had been exposed to at least one racy motion picture, she began to understand what he'd meant. Passion was violent, if what she'd seen was any indication, and on the screen at least, women looked and sounded as if they were being killed. Kate had wondered a time or two if she'd ever sound like that, but she'd never felt passion with the few hometown boys who'd taken her out. She'd only felt that kind of fiery heat with Jason, the day before, and it was still new and a little unnerving.
    "Jay just rattled the windows in the front room slamming out the door," Gene remarked as he rejoined them with another saucer of cobbler. He grinned knowingly at Cherry as she guiltily gulped down the last bite of his after having finished her own.
    "It was my fault, I guess," Kate confessed. "I got a little overheated about his opinion of a woman's place. Honest to goodness, I think sometimes that he doesn't know what century this is."
    "You know why, though," Gene said gently. "You of all people know why."
    Kate sighed. "Yes. But I was so excited about my break," she smiled. "I wanted to share it"
    "He'll storm around the barn for a while and then he'll be all right," Gene assured her. "Just drink your coffee, Kate, and remember that even the nastiest storm rains out eventually." "After it gets through rumbling," she agreed, and sipped her coffee. She stayed a few minutes longer, telling them about the new chores she had at the plant and
    what she was going to work around in her designs. Then, depressed by Jason's sustained absence, she told them good-bye, waved to Sheila, and went out the front door to go home.
    It was a glorious spring night. The sky was clear and the breeze was warm, and the stars looked close enough to touch. There was a whisper of jasmine in the air from the thick bushes at the front steps and at the corner of the house, lilac was just blooming. Kate sighed, smelling it, her eyes on the long horizon. Somewhere cattle were lowing softly, and she thought about the trail drives of the last century, when cowboys would sing to the cattle to calm them.
    "Leaving already?"
    She stiffened at the unexpected sound of Jason's voice from the porch. She turned to find him sitting in the porch swing, barely silhouetted in the light from the nearby window. The orange tip of a smoking cigarette waved in his hand as he pushed the swing into motion. Its soft creaking sound was oddly comforting, but Jason's presence made Kate feel nervous.
    She lifted her chin. "Are we still speaking?"
    "If you're through reading me sermons on the modern woman, we are," he said shortly.
    "I might as well be, for all the good it's done me," she sighed, and smiled at him, because it was hard to fight with Jason. She understood him all too well, most of the time. He got out of the swing lazily and strode toward her. Seconds later, he towered over her. The soft light coming out of the window lay on the floor in abstract patterns at her feet.
    "I hate fighting with you," she remarked to break the silence.
    "Then don't do it," he said lazily, and managed to smile.
    But as he smiled, he stared.