Free Sailing to Capri by Elizabeth Adler Page A

hands. I felt that little flutter again in regions I didn’t even want to think about. He looked so incredibly masculine in my very feminine silk-curtained boudoir.
    “My father was a harsh man,” he said. “He rarely spoke, exceptto give orders. He rode out with the cowboys and was gone sometimes for weeks on end, leaving me alone with the old man who was supposed to keep house. But when Pop was away, the old man drank and I was left to fend for myself. All I had was my horse. I loved that mare. Believe it or not I rode her twenty miles to school every morning, and twenty miles back again, that’s how remote we were. I’d hitch her to the post, give her a feed bag and go inside that little country schoolhouse. Just one room and seven reluctant kids, all of different ages, all showing up to get some learning. But learn we did—I could conjugate verbs in Latin before I ever learned how to do it properly in English.”
    I took a sip of my tea, temporarily forgetting about Bob.
    Montana’s charcoal eyes searched my face. “You’re looking a bit better,” he said. “There’s color in your cheeks now.”
    Embarrassed, I tucked my feet under me. In my old pink robe and giant fluffy slippers, I felt like an overgrown junior high school kid at a sleepover. The dog sneaked a second cookie and crunched it loudly, dropping crumbs all over the carpet. I didn’t care.
    “I think you should read this.” I handed him Bob’s letter.
    I was very aware of our fingers touching as he took it. I also noticed he was still wearing the American Indian–style turquoise bracelet. I guessed he never removed it.
    He read the letter carefully, studying every word as though he could find double meanings or hidden references I had missed. I doubted there were any, because Bob always said exactly what he meant. He glanced up.
    “Do you believe him?” he asked.
    “Bob never lied.”
    “So, do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill him?”
    “No one I can think of.”
    Montana folded the letter and handed it back to me. “Remember your Bible? The Ten Commandments handed down by Moses?”
    I did remember. “Thou shalt not commit adultery,” I said. “Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is thy neighbor’s.”
    “Put it in context,” Montana said, “and what have you got? Sex, money, jealousy, envy. Enough to kill for.”
    “But Bob was a good man. He would never knowingly hurt anyone. I told you earlier, he always helped people.”
    “Hardwick was a hardheaded businessman in a tough dog-eat-dog world. How do you think he got this successful? This rich? He did what he had to and he was as ruthless as anybody else when he had to be.”
    I said nothing but I knew in my gut Montana was right.
    Montana got to his feet and began to pace. “Money, power. That’s motive number one.” He turned to look out of the window again. His back to me, he said, “Then there’s motive number two. Passion. Sex.”
    “I know nothing about that part of Bob’s life,” I said stiffly, because I knew Montana was wondering if Bob and I were lovers.
    He swung around and looked me in the eyes. “Why not?”
    “Bob told me he didn’t want me,” I said, regretting the words almost before they were out of my mouth.
    Montana’s brows rose. “Well now,” he said, half-smiling. “You
have
surprised me.”
    “He didn’t mean it like that,” I said defensively. “We’d just met, he offered me a job and I thought he was propositioning me. He told me in no uncertain terms that he could have any woman he wanted, and that he certainly didn’t want me. He didn’t mean it as an insult,” I added, “it was just that he wanted me to get it straight in my head that all he was offering me was a job.”
    “And quite a job for a woman with few or no