lay back, her smile
almost gleeful. Resetting her alarm for a more reasonable hour,
Kalli blissfully fell asleep.
She drove into Jackson later that morning.
First stop was the attorney who had handled her uncle's will. He
had mentioned bank accounts and statements the day she'd met him.
But now she wanted to get everything cleared and established so she
could write checks on the account.
Richard Strominger happened to be free when
she arrived unannounced, and he saw her right away.
"How are things going, Miss Bonotelli?" He
was an older man, easy going and relaxed. His casual Western attire
added to her concept of the Old West aspect still prevalent in
Wyoming. She grinned as she shook his hand and sat gingerly in the
chair opposite his desk.
"Great. The Triple T's the most wonderful
place. I'm so pleased with the way everything is going," she
replied.
"Still planning to stay?" He watched her over
steepled fingers.
She nodded, wondering why every male out here
thought she shouldn't. Was it some sort of Western macho thing?
"You've got a good offer from the Flying
Cloud Ranch. Wouldn't you like to at least consider it? I don't
know how long it will stay open," Richard advised her.
"No. I've already told Trace my answer. I'm
not selling. I'm learning all I can to run the place myself," she
said.
"I see. Very well, I'll send a formal
refusal."
She signed the necessary papers to complete
the transfer of all titles into her name. Then Richard personally
walked her over to the bank, introduced her to the bank president
and helped smooth the transition there.
"Glad to have you as a client. Triple T's
been with us since the beginning. Though I heard there was an offer
to buy you out by Flying Cloud," the bank president said as they
sat waiting for a handful of new checks to be printed.
"I'm not selling," she said quietly.
Was this the small town grapevine at work?
Somehow she didn't think Richard Strominger would be telling
everyone his clients' business. And she certainly couldn't picture
Trace doing so.
"I see. Well, good. It's our gain." He smiled
genially and asked her about Boston and how she compared the two
places.
Kalli was struck by the friendliness of
everyone she met. Even at the supermarket, the cashier and clerk
had been welcoming, though they, too, had mentioned Trace's offer.
Kalli shook her head, amazed. Would everyone in town now be
commiserating with him on the lost sale? He'd love that.
She forgot about it as she hurried home. With
any luck she'd have a chance for another soak to ease her aching
muscles before starting dinner.
Conscious of wanting to prove something to
Trace, she prepared veal scallopini. It was her mother's special
recipe and she hoped he and his daughter liked it. For a moment she
hesitated. Would they like Italian food?
Nonsense, everyone did.
While Kalli loved the West and dressing like
a cowboy in jeans and cotton shirts, she decided to dress up a
little for the first dinner guests in her new home. She donned a
dusky rose skirt with a matching scooped-neck top that buttoned
down the front, then French braided her hair to keep it neat. She
didn't want to be worried about it while she cooked. She used a
light touch of makeup and sprayed perfume on sparingly.
When Trace drove into the yard, she was
ready. A final check of the table revealed everything set
perfectly. She wished she could have used the dining room, but the
kitchen would have to do. She didn't want to make too big a deal
over dinner. And there were still boxes piled everywhere. She had
dragged them from the living room, in expectation of visiting with
her guests later. When would she have time to unpack and get
settled?
Trace walked in as if he owned the place. His
daughter followed, peering around her tall father to stare at
Kalli.
"Hello. Welcome. Are you Becky? I'm Kalli."
She offered her hand to the girl, who was as tall as she. When
Becky was full grown, she'd probably be almost as tall as her
daddy, and
almost gleeful. Resetting her alarm for a more reasonable hour,
Kalli blissfully fell asleep.
She drove into Jackson later that morning.
First stop was the attorney who had handled her uncle's will. He
had mentioned bank accounts and statements the day she'd met him.
But now she wanted to get everything cleared and established so she
could write checks on the account.
Richard Strominger happened to be free when
she arrived unannounced, and he saw her right away.
"How are things going, Miss Bonotelli?" He
was an older man, easy going and relaxed. His casual Western attire
added to her concept of the Old West aspect still prevalent in
Wyoming. She grinned as she shook his hand and sat gingerly in the
chair opposite his desk.
"Great. The Triple T's the most wonderful
place. I'm so pleased with the way everything is going," she
replied.
"Still planning to stay?" He watched her over
steepled fingers.
She nodded, wondering why every male out here
thought she shouldn't. Was it some sort of Western macho thing?
"You've got a good offer from the Flying
Cloud Ranch. Wouldn't you like to at least consider it? I don't
know how long it will stay open," Richard advised her.
"No. I've already told Trace my answer. I'm
not selling. I'm learning all I can to run the place myself," she
said.
"I see. Very well, I'll send a formal
refusal."
She signed the necessary papers to complete
the transfer of all titles into her name. Then Richard personally
walked her over to the bank, introduced her to the bank president
and helped smooth the transition there.
"Glad to have you as a client. Triple T's
been with us since the beginning. Though I heard there was an offer
to buy you out by Flying Cloud," the bank president said as they
sat waiting for a handful of new checks to be printed.
"I'm not selling," she said quietly.
Was this the small town grapevine at work?
Somehow she didn't think Richard Strominger would be telling
everyone his clients' business. And she certainly couldn't picture
Trace doing so.
"I see. Well, good. It's our gain." He smiled
genially and asked her about Boston and how she compared the two
places.
Kalli was struck by the friendliness of
everyone she met. Even at the supermarket, the cashier and clerk
had been welcoming, though they, too, had mentioned Trace's offer.
Kalli shook her head, amazed. Would everyone in town now be
commiserating with him on the lost sale? He'd love that.
She forgot about it as she hurried home. With
any luck she'd have a chance for another soak to ease her aching
muscles before starting dinner.
Conscious of wanting to prove something to
Trace, she prepared veal scallopini. It was her mother's special
recipe and she hoped he and his daughter liked it. For a moment she
hesitated. Would they like Italian food?
Nonsense, everyone did.
While Kalli loved the West and dressing like
a cowboy in jeans and cotton shirts, she decided to dress up a
little for the first dinner guests in her new home. She donned a
dusky rose skirt with a matching scooped-neck top that buttoned
down the front, then French braided her hair to keep it neat. She
didn't want to be worried about it while she cooked. She used a
light touch of makeup and sprayed perfume on sparingly.
When Trace drove into the yard, she was
ready. A final check of the table revealed everything set
perfectly. She wished she could have used the dining room, but the
kitchen would have to do. She didn't want to make too big a deal
over dinner. And there were still boxes piled everywhere. She had
dragged them from the living room, in expectation of visiting with
her guests later. When would she have time to unpack and get
settled?
Trace walked in as if he owned the place. His
daughter followed, peering around her tall father to stare at
Kalli.
"Hello. Welcome. Are you Becky? I'm Kalli."
She offered her hand to the girl, who was as tall as she. When
Becky was full grown, she'd probably be almost as tall as her
daddy, and
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