Free The Cowboy and the Lady by Diana Palmer Page A

make connections. One silver eyebrow went up in a gesture reminiscent of her eldest son. “Did you and Jace argue yesterday, Amanda?” she asked gently.
    “It’s downright dangerous to have them in the same room together lately,” Duncan teased. “He flies at her and she flies right back. God help anyone who gets between them.”
    “Where’s Terry, I wonder?” Amanda hedged, helping herself to some scrambled eggs and little fat sausages.
    “He and I were up late discussing the campaign,” Duncan explained. “He’s probably overslept. I’ve got to fly to New York today on business.” He sipped his coffee, set the china cup down gently in its saucer, and stared at Amanda. “Jace agreed to talk with Terry tonight.”
    “Did he? That’s nice,” she murmured.
    He studied her downbent head, reading accurately the wan, drawn look about her face, the dark circles under her eyes.
    Marguerite finished her breakfast and crumpled her napkin beside her plate, lifting her coffee cup with a smile. “How lovely to have one uninterrupted meal.” She sighed. “Duncan, breakfast with you is so restful.”
    “I don’t own controlling interest in the properties,” he reminded her.
    The words reminded Amanda of what Jace had said, and she winced unconsciously.
    Marguerite’s dark eyes flashed. “I’d like to get rid of it all,” she grumbled, “except for a little of the ranch. Maybe we weren’t so wealthy in the old days, but at least we could eat a meal without someone being called away on business. And Jace didn’t push himself so hard.”
    “Didn’t he?” Duncan asked gently. “He always has. And we both know why.”
    Marguerite smiled at him wistfully. “And what do you think about the result?”
    “I think there’s a distinct possibility of success,” he said mysteriously, lifting his coffee cup as if in a toast.
    “You people do carry on the strangest conversations,” Amanda remarked between mouthfuls.
    “Sorry, dear,” Marguerite apologized nicely. “Just old suspicions.”
    “Want to come to New York with me?” Duncan asked Amanda suddenly. “I’m just going for the day. We’ll ride the ferry over to Staten Island and make nasty remarks about the traffic.”
    Her eyes lit up. The prospect of being carefree for one whole day was enchanting, especially when she wanted so desperately to keep out of Jace’s way.
    “Could I?” she asked, and her whole face changed, grew younger. “Oh, but Terry…” she murmured, her enthusiasm dampening.
    “He’ll be just fine with me,” Marguerite said cheerfully. “I’ll take care of him for you, and tonight he and Jace will be busy discussing the accounts. So why not go, dear? You look as if you could use a little gaiety.”
    “If you don’t mind…”
    “Go put on a pretty dress,” Duncan told her, grinning. “I’ll give you a whole half hour.”
    “Done!” Amanda said excitedly. She excused herself from the table and darted upstairs. It was like being a child again. She’d forgotten the magic of being wealthy enough to take off and go anywhere, anytime. The Whitehalls took it for granted just as Amanda had once, but those days were long past. Now she had to budget everything, especially groceries. Trips and holidays were something she could no longer afford.
    She changed into a white sundress with yellow daisies on the bodice and a full eyelet skirt, a delightful little frock she’d found on sale at a small boutique last fall. She scooped up her lightweight tan sweater and slipped on her sandals in a rush, barely stopping long enough to check her makeup and add another pin to the hair she had carefully tucked into a neat chignon. She forgot her purse and had to go back for it. Not that there was more than a few dollars in it, but she felt more secure having it.
    She darted downstairs to find that Terry had finally made it to the breakfast table. He looked sleepy and faintly hung over, but he grinned at Amanda pleasantly.
    “Hi!” she