Will of Steel by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online Page B

yet.”
    â€œYou mean, get fascinated with microscopes and move to New York City,” she said with a grin.
    He laughed. “Something like that, maybe.”
    â€œI could never see stuff in microscopes in high school,” she recalled. “I was so excited when I finally found what I thought was an organism and the teacher said it was an air bubble. That’s all I ever managed to find.” She grimaced. “I came within two grade points of failing biology. As it was, I had the lowest passing grade in my whole class.”
    â€œBut you can cook like an angel,” he pointed out.
    She frowned. “What does that have to do with microscopes?”
    â€œI’m making an observation,” he replied. “We all have skills. Yours is cooking. Somebody else’s might be science. It would be a pretty boring world if we all were good at the same things.”
    â€œI see.”
    He smiled. “You can crochet, too. My grandmother loved her crafts, like you do. She could make quilts and knit sweaters and crochet afghans. A woman of many talents.”
    â€œThey don’t seem to count for much in the modern world,” she replied.
    â€œHave you ever really looked at the magazine rack, Jake?” he asked, surprised. “There are more magazines on handicrafts than there are on rock stars, and that’s saying something.”
    â€œI hadn’t noticed.” She looked around. They were just coming into Billings. Ahead, she could see the awesome outline of the Rimrocks, where the airport was located, in the distance. “We’re here?” she exclaimed.
    â€œIt’s not so far from home,” he said lazily.
    â€œNot at the speed you go, no,” she said impudently.
    He laughed. “There wasn’t any traffic and we aren’t overly blessed with highway patrols at this hour of the night.”
    â€œYou catch speeders, and you’re local law enforcement,” she pointed out.
    â€œI don’t catch them on the interstate unless they’re driving on it through my town,” he replied. “And it’s not so much the speed that gets them caught, either. It’s the way they’re driving. You can be safe at high speeds and dangerous at low ones. Weaving in and out of traffic, riding people’s bumpers, running stop signs, that sort of thing.”
    â€œI saw this television program where an experienced traffic officer said that what scared him most was to see a driver with both hands white-knuckled and close together on the steering wheel.”
    He nodded. “There are exceptions, but it usually means someone who’s insecure and afraid of the vehicle.”
    â€œYou aren’t.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve been driving since I was twelve. Kids grow up early when they live on ranches. Have to learn how to operate machinery, like tractors and harvesters.”
    â€œOur ranch doesn’t have a harvester.”
    â€œThat’s because our ranch can’t afford one,” he said, smiling. “But we can always borrow one from neighbors.”
    â€œSmall towns are such nice places,” she said dreamily. “I love it that people will loan you a piece of equipment that expensive just because they like you.”
    â€œI imagine there are people in cities who would do the same, Jake, but there’s not much use for them there.”
    She laughed. “No, I guess not.”
    He turned the corner and pulled into a parking lot next to a long, low building. There was a neon sign that said Red’s Tavern.
    â€œIt’s a bar?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s a dance club. They do serve alcohol, but not on the dance floor.”
    â€œTheodore, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a bar in my life.”
    â€œNot to worry, they won’t force you to drink anything alcoholic,” he told her, tongue-in-cheek. “And if they tried, I’d have to call local law and have them arrested.