Page 32 of Wyoming Tough

They looked shamefaced.

“She came with excellent references, too,” Mallory continued. “Except when I finally got around to checking them out, they were bogus. She lied even when we caught her red-handed. Her lover had made her do it. She was innocent. She loved working for us. She’d do anything if we’d forgive her and let her come back. She’d testify against her lover, even.”

“But she had a record as long as my leg,” Tank put in quietly.

“And a real talent for lying.” Cane nodded.

“And we almost lost the ranch because she sued us for defamation of character and sexual harassment, of which we were totally innocent.”

“Good thing the jury believed us,” Cane replied.

“Good thing we had the best damned attorney in Wyoming,” Mallory agreed. “We can’t afford to trust people we don’t know. Gelly is already suspicious of Morie, and she’s come to me twice with stories that Morie denies and makes light of.” He shifted. “I don’t trust her.” He didn’t add that his own great physical attraction to her was one of his biggest issues. It made him vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to trust his instincts, when they might be leading him down a dark road. “She knows how to make canapés and plan society dos, and play the piano like a professional. It doesn’t jibe with her job description.”

“Then what do you think is her real background?” Cane asked curtly.

“Think about it,” Mallory replied. “A woman who wanted to insinuate herself into a rich household, without drawing attention to her background, would pretend to know nothing about wealthy people. But underneath, she’d be clued in about how they lived, what they did. She’d know their habits and their tastes. She’d have to, to play up to them. Then she’d bring out those talents, a little at a time, to deepen the mystery and make herself acceptable.”

“You’re reaching,” Tank said shortly. “Gelly’s poisoned you against Morie.”

“I was already headed in that direction,” Mallory replied. “She isn’t telling us the truth about her background. I’m sure of it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s a shady background,” Cane replied. “Vanessa poisoned all of us against women for a while. It’s why we hired Mavie, who isn’t young or beautiful or interested in us. But Morie might be the genuine article.”

“And she might not be,” Mallory said grimly. “I just think we need to keep an eye on her and not trust her too far. Just like any other new hire.”

They had to agree. They’d gone in headfirst, because she seemed sweet and helpful and kind. But it could be an act. They knew from experience how gullible all three of them could be.

“I guess you’re right,” Cane said solemnly.

“I’m always right,” Mallory said, tongue-in-cheek. “I’m the eldest.”

Tank glared at him. “Only by two years. Don’t get conceited.”

Mallory chuckled. “Better get back to work.”

MORIE WAS DISCONCERTEDby the argument. She was preoccupied when she went to the tack room to get her bridle and saddle to ride fence. There was a lot of fence on the ranch. She’d never seen so many acres, except on her father’s spread. This was a huge tract of land that made up the ranch property, and it was cross-fenced for miles and miles and miles.

Darby glanced at her as she came out. “Trouble?” he asked gently.

She hesitated. She nodded.

“Mallory again?”

“I started a fight. I didn’t mean to. I was just playing the piano.”

His eyebrows arched. “That was you?” he exclaimed. “I thought it was a record they’d put on!”

She looked down shyly. “I took piano for almost ten years,” she said. “I love to play. Tank, I mean Mr. Kirk, had the score from that movie,August Rush,and when he knew I could play, he asked me to show him. So I did. But then the brothers said I shouldn’t be risking my hands doing manual labor and Mallory, I mean Mr. Kirk, got mad and said I was hired to do ranch work….”

“I see where this is going,” Darby replied quietly. “It must have been difficult.”

She nodded again and drew in a long breath. “I didn’t mean to start trouble. It was so wonderful to have a piano to play on.” She smiled. “I’ve loved music all my life. I can play classical guitar, too, and I used to carry a guitar with me wherever I went. But you can’t pack a piano around, so I sort of got out of the habit of playing.” She closed her eyes. “I can hear sonatas in my mind, when I go to bed. I never met a classical score that I didn’t love. Especially Debussy…”

“Am I paying you for musical commentary now?” Mallory asked coldly from the doorway.

She started, and almost dropped the saddle. “Sorry, boss. Sorry.” She rushed out the door with the saddle over her shoulder, almost tripped and fell down the steps in her rush.

Darby put out a hand and pulled Mallory around. His blue eyes were blazing. “Lay off,” he said in a menacing tone. “The girl’s had enough for one day.”

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