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depth of her love for him, she dreaded its physical expression.
Well, she thought, that was a bridge she'd cross when she had to. Meanwhile,
going home had a delight all its own. She was getting tired of the high life.
     
    Chapter Three
     
    Katy Whitehall opened her eyes to a blinding
whiteness. She groaned and turned over, shielding her eyelids from the sunlight
coming in through the white curtains.
    Her long dark hair lay in tangles around a white
face, and huge green eyes opened, wincing. She tried to lift her head, groaned
again, and fell back onto the pillows with a resigned sigh.
    The door opened and Cassie came in, shaking her
gray head, glowering down at the young woman as she put a cup of hot tea on the
bedside table.
    "Told you, I did," she said in her
deepest drawl, her black eyes accusing. "Told you that firewater would
give you the devil's own headache. Shameful, that's what it is, coming in here
in the wee hours of the morning. Mr. Cole would horsewhip you, was he here to
see!"
    "Well, he isn't. He's in San Antonio,
selling cattle." Katy dragged her slender body into a sitting position,
her small breasts outlined under the pale fabric of her gown. She pushed back
the weight of her hair and reached for the tea.
    "Maybe he's gone to see Miss Lacy, as
well," Cassie ventured, her hands on her broad hips.
    Katy eyed her carefully. "Think so?"
"Well, miracles happen, don't they?"
    Katy forced a smile as she sipped the sweet tea.
"So they say. Ben shouldn't have done that to them," she murmured.
    "One joke too many," Cassie agreed.
"Left alone, they might have come to marriage all by themselves, for the
right reasons." Her dark face puckered as she pursed her lips. "He
used to watch her, when she first came to live here," she reminded Katy.
"My man Jack Henry said he'd be mechanicing and he'd see Mr. Cole watching
her like a chicken hawk, them dark eyes just fiery and full of longing."
    "You read too many of those outrageous
novels," Katy chided, giggling as the old woman shifted uncomfortably and
averted her eyes. "You know very well that Cole's immune to women. If he
wasn't, he'd have married long ago. He never was around girls very much. It was
always business."
    "Had to be, didn't it?" Cassie
defended him. "After Mr. Bart died, weren't nobody else to take care of
his place. Ben were too young, and Miss Marion never had no business
head."
    "Thank God Cole did, or we'd all be out
looking for work." Katy stretched, shuddering as the movement hurt her
head. "I never should have had that third drink," she moaned, holding
her forehead in both hands.
    "Mr. Turk had words with that young man who
brung you home last night," Cassie volunteered suddenly.
    Katy's heart jumped, but she didn't look up
immediately. Her big green eyes widened. "Turk did?"
    Cassie smiled. Katy was only twenty-one; every
single emotion showed on her face. Cassie had always known how she felt about
Turk, but it wouldn't do to encourage her. Cole wouldn't stand for it. He'd
already made that clear.
    "Mr. Cole told him to watch out for
you," the old woman said.
    Katy glowered. "I don't need
watching."
    "Yes, ma'am, you do," came the hot
reply. "Carousing all hours, drinking in public, cussing like a sailor...
You're shaming us all! Your poor mama won't even go to her bridge club because
she's so afraid somebody will say something about you to her!"
    The younger woman sat up straighter. "Well,
Danny Marlone doesn't think I shame him," she replied, hiding her sudden
vulnerability to her mother's pride in blustering.
    "He's a gangster!" Cassie was off and
running now, her eyes huge in her face. "Yes, he is— One of them Chicago mobsters, right down to that striped suit he wears and them fancy cigars he smokes
and that big fedora! He's not the man for you! He's leading you off into hell!"
    Katy sighed wearily. "Danny's a nice man.
He's just a northerner, and that's why you don't like him. I like him a lot.
He's good to me. He buys me things," she added,