Cowboy For Hire by Alice Duncan Read Free Book Online

her attention to her
sandwich.
    “Thanks,” Charlie said at her side. “I don’t
suppose I can have another one?” He grinned up at the girl who was
handing out sandwiches. She grinned back and threw another sandwich
onto the table in front of him.
    Shocked out of contemplating her own
sandwich, which looked large enough to feed a battalion or two, Amy
turned to stare at Charlie, flabbergasted. “You’re going to eat two of these things?” Good heavens, Amy was sure she’d never
plow her way through even one of the enormous concoctions presently
being flung hither and yon.
    Charlie squinted down at her, and she wished
she’d kept her mouth shut. “You got something against a feller
eating a hearty meal, Miss Wilkes?”
    “Of course not.” Her voice, she noticed,
sounded stifled. She felt stifled.
    “I reckon,” Charlie continued, “that you’re
not used to folks who toil for a livin’, but some of us have to use
our muscles and such, and we work up quite an appetite.”
    Indignation swelled in Amy’s breast. Why did
this man seem so all-fired eager to make fun of her? She resented
it every bit as much as she deplored her own ignorance of the
world. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Fox. I didn’t mean to upset
you.”
    “Hell, ma’am,” Charlie said, “you didn’t
upset me.”
    He laughed. Amy noticed that Martin rolled
his eyes. He, too, had a couple of sandwiches sitting in front of
him.
    Martin said, “Let’s dig in, folks. I
understand the roast beef sandwiches these folks prepare are quite
good.”
    Fearing she would only put her foot in her
mouth again if she tried to speak, Amy slowly unwrapped her
sandwich. She was pretty sure she could get through a quarter of it
if she tried hard. A thick ceramic mug of coffee appeared as if my
magic in front of her, and she jumped again. Drat! Although she
hated admitting it to herself, she guessed her nerves were somewhat
rattled. Shooting a sideways glance at Charlie, she noticed him
eyeing her with distaste. She lifted her chin, picked up her coffee
mug, and sipped.
    An involuntary shudder ran through her from
tip to toe and she set her mug down with a jerk, slopping the
horrible-tasting beverage on the table. Good heavens, how did
people drink this stuff? More to the point, why did they
drink it? Amy had never tasted anything so vile in her life.
    “You got something against coffee, too, Miss
Wilkes?” Charlie’s voice had taken on a sugary quality.
    Swallowing convulsively, trying to get the
bitter taste out of her mouth, Amy couldn’t answer at first. When
at last she managed to get her tongue uncurled, she said, “I’m
unused to coffee, Mr. Fox.” Then she braced herself, wondering what
unkind thing he’d say now.
    “I imagine you’re more accustomed to drinking
orange juice,” Martin said with one of his friendly chuckles.
    Silently blessing him as a saint, Amy said,
“Yes, I am, Mr. Tafft. I—I’ve never tasted coffee before.” What was
more, if she could help it, she’d never taste it again.
    “Orange juice?” Charlie stopped chewing and
lifted an eyebrow. He had lovely eyes, Amy noticed with some
dismay. They were ever so much prettier than Vernon’s, which were
rather squinty and small.
    She nodded. “My uncle has a health resort in
Pasadena where orange juice is served daily.”
    Amy’s heart gave an enormous tug of
nostalgia, and all at once she felt like crying. This was so
foreign to her. She wanted her aunt and uncle here. She wanted
Vernon. She wanted an orange. If she had to exist on huge meat
sandwiches and coffee for as long as it took to finish this movie,
she wasn’t sure she could do it. She, who was accustomed to eating
delicate meals replete with vegetables, fruit, and milk, and to
drinking pure, sweet-tasting, unadulterated orange juice. Oh,
dear.
    “I’m sure we can get something else for you
to drink,” said Martin.
    Amy silently blessed him again. She’d have
thanked him, but feared for the steadiness of her