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repair manual...there’s a home number for one of the service technicians in it. They don’t give you schematics or troubleshooting info, you have to call a service technician! Before long, you’ll have to call a number in Ontario in order to engage the gears of your automobile...don’t keep supper, I’ll be late.” And the door slammed loudly.
    “It’s Saturday night,” Teddi murmured. “Surely to goodness he doesn’t expect a service technician to fly out here on a Saturday night...?”
    Jenna eyed her friend patiently. “Would you say no to him?” she asked.
    There was a brief pause. “I think I’d pack my duffel bag,” she admitted with a grin.
    Mary came through the door just then, her eyes widening at the amount of food on the table. “Gracious, what army are you girls planning to feed tonight?” she gasped, her eyes going from the platter of biscuits Teddi had made to the ham casserole, cottage-fried potatoes, green beans, sliced carrot sticks and celery and tomatoes with a dip, and the enormous banana pudding on the elegant table under the crystal chandelier.
    “It’ll keep until tomorrow,” Jenna promised, winking at Teddi.
    Mary laughed. “What a pity King’s going to miss this,” she murmured as she sat down and unfolded her napkin. “All his favorites. Buttering him up, Jenna?” she mused.
    “Actually, it was Teddi’s idea to do the casserole,” came the dry reply. “I can’t make one, you know. And look at these biscuits!”
    “Never mind, my friend,” Teddi murmured as she spooned the casserole onto her plate. “I love it, too, as it happens.”
    It was late, and the women were watching an old movie on TV in the den when King came in. He looked every year of his age. His thick blond hair was rumpled, and his shirt was open at the throat. His face was hard, but there was a faint satisfaction in it as he went directly to the bar and poured himself a whiskey before he dropped into his armchair with a sheaf of papers in one hand.
    “I see you got the repairman, dear,” Mary remarked.
    “An obliging gentleman,” King agreed, fingering the glass as he scanned an open folder in his lap. “I’m going to cull a few cows, and I needed these records before I made a decision on which ones to sell.”
    “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Mary reminded him.
    “Ummm,” he agreed. “But Jake Harmone is driving over here tomorrow morning before church to make me an offer. Hence the urgency.”
    “Sell Mahitabel and I’ll never speak to you again,” Jenna promised him.
    He looked up with the old, mischievous light in his silvery eyes as he locked glances with his sister. “Mahitabel hasn’t calved in six years,” he reminded her. “She’s eating my grass, drinking my spring water and yielding absolutely nothing.”
    “She’s tough,” Jenna replied.
    “So she is,” King murmured thoughtfully. “But if we parboiled her first...”
    “King!” Jenna positively shrieked. “You can’t, you wouldn’t!”
    He burst out laughing at her horrified expression. “All right, calm down. I’ll put it off another year, as I’ve done for the past six.”
    His sister breathed easier. “What a scare you gave me!”
    “I’ll remind you again that sentimentality and cattle raising don’t mix,” he remarked.
    “As I found out at the tender age of twelve,” Jenna said, pouting, “when my pet bull disappeared.”
    “He was an Angus,” King reminded her.
    “So? What’s wrong with black Angus?” she challenged.
    “Nothing, except that we run Herefords,” he replied. “Your pet got in with my registered cows and they dropped half Angus calves the next spring.”
    “I thought they were cute,” Jenna said defensively. “Little black calves with white faces.”
    “If you had your way, you’d make pets of every calf on the place,” King murmured indulgently. His eyes shifted suddenly and met Teddi’s. Something flashed briefly in the gray depths and burned so brightly that she dropped