Jenny?' The voice was vaguely familiar.
'Yes.'
'George Carlisle here. I've been out of town on business. Sorry I haven't called lately.'
'George, how nice to hear from you.' Jenny had gone out with him a couple of times since running into him in the early spring. He was older than she, moved in a different circle, but he was a pleasant companion. He took her to different places, always conscious of what might please her.
'I'm giving a barbecue soon, and I wanted to make sure you could come. Probably the Saturday after next.'
'Yes, I'd love to. Can I bring anything?'
'A salad? A cake? Whatever you feel like. There'll be about fifty guests, I expect everyone will bring something. I'm providing the beef and chicken for the barbecue. And the drinks.'
Kyle followed her, stopping to eavesdrop. Reminding her of another question.
'George, one of Johnny's cousins is staying with me. Can I bring him, too?'
'Sure, the more the merrier. I didn't know you had a house guest.'
'Just Kyle. Why don't you come for dinner tomorrow night? You can meet him then.'
'Sounds like a fine idea.'
'Come about seven.'
'Good. See you then.'
Kyle stood and watched as she hung up the phone. She turned a bright face to him.
'There! Your first social occasion, at George Carlisle's. He's one of the ranchers from around here, we saw the entrance to his ranch this morning. He's having a barbecue in a week, and invited us. You can meet lots of people there, establish your background. Maybe Nate and Jim will be there, too.'
'Who's George Carlisle?'
'A rancher—I just said.'
'A special friend?'
'Well,' Jenny was reluctant to admit to that, 'we've gone out a few times since this spring. He's nice.'
***
Kyle turned away and began to climb the stairs. 'Nice is no threat,' he murmured as he went up. 'I'll be down for dinner.'
'Don't you want lunch?'
'No. I want to lie down.' He paused and looked over the banister, down at her. 'Thanks for the lift and the tour.'
Kyle went to the guest room, toed off his shoes and lay down on the bed. It felt like heaven. He was pushing to get better, but his body betrayed him every step. He felt he could sleep the clock around.
Yet his mind churned. There was so much open space surrounding Palmer it could take months or longer to find a field, especially hidden as they were from aerial surveillance. And if he couldn’t even ride around in a car for a few hours, how would he ever hike into the remote areas likely for the plants?
As he drifted to sleep he made a mental note to have Stuart Brownley check out George. He’d do better to not tell Jenny. He already knew she’d blow up if she thought he was checking out her friends. This wasn’t business–strictly personal. He wondered what kind of man she was attracted to. Tomorrow night might give him the answers.
***
As Jenny prepared for bed that night, she remembered the brief conversation that afternoon about the gunshot wounds. She hadn’t let herself dwell on it before, but now she let her imagination have full rein. How awful it must have been! She could envision the shock, the pain Kyle must have felt. Had he received immediate attention? Had he been with a partner or alone with the suspect? She closed her eyes tightly to black out the picture.
She knew how impatient he was with the time it was taking to heal. He was a man of action, wanting to move, react. To wait patiently for a healing process in which he played very little part must be very annoying and taxing. She wondered if there was any permanent damage. Would he be completely well soon?
The next evening Jenny took care to dress up for dinner. It was the first time George had been to her house, and she wanted it to be special, to show her appreciation of the enjoyable evenings they’d spent together over the last few months. She took pains with dinner, freshened the house and put a bouquet of late spring flowers in the dining room. The evenings were cool and pleasant, so they could have