Read Under the Desert Sky for Free Online Page B

it’s late. You can’t go home now,” Katie said. “Let Trinidad or Cornello take care of your birds. That’s why you pay them.”
    â€œThey’re not there,” Gwen said.
    â€œOh, dear, have you fired them?” Katie asked.
    â€œIt’d be good riddance if you did,” Yhomas said. “If you had somebody who really knew how to handle your flock, you could make a lot more money.”
    â€œYou’re probably right,” Phoebe said.“But, no, I didn’t fire them. Sunday is Independence Day, and I’ve given them the week off.”
    â€œIndependence Day? I thought the American Independence Day is in July,” Christian said.
    â€œIt is, but this is Mexican Independence Day. And I’m afraid the fiestas last a little longer than the Fourth of July picnics and parades,” Phoebe said.
    â€œWell, if they’re not at your place, I’m not going to let you go home by yourself,” Yhomas said. “I’ll saddle my horse.”
    â€œIs it far?” Christian asked.
    â€œNo, it’s about seven or eight miles from here,” Yhomas said.
    â€œThen why don’t I ride back with her?” Christian asked. “If it’s that close, I won’t get lost on the way back, and you can write up the minutes of what went on tonight.”
    â€œWould you mind, Phoebe?” Yhomas asked.
    â€œNo, she doesn’t mind,” Gwen said. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Will, help me make up a package of cookies for you to take. Then, when you get home, you can invite Mr. De Wet in and have cookies and milk before you go to bed.”
    â€œNope. Can’t do that,” Will said.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œWe don’t have any milk.”
    â€œWell, then, girls, you’d better take Will to the summer kitchen and get some milk.”
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    After Christian and the others left the kitchen, Gwen turned to Phoebe.
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    â€œI think you and your daughters are spoiling my son. It’s already past his bedtime, and now he’s going to insist on cookies and milk before bed.”
    Gwen let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What do you think about Mr. De Wet?”
    â€œHe had some very good ideas. If he can put this together, it’ll help all of us.”
    Gwen stomped her foot. “Sometimes you are the densest person I know. What do you think about Christian? Isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? And his English accent—don’t you think that makes him even more mysterious?”
    â€œI will grant you, he is an attractive gentleman, but that’s all I’ll say.”
    â€œI won’t let you stop there. Don’t you think he’d make a good husband?”
    â€œGwen, don’t even think that, let alone say it. If people thought it was above my station when I married a banker, what do you think the talk would be if I went after an international financier?”
    â€œYou don’t know that’s what he is. He’s been here for two weeks, and he’s been one of the most accommodating guests Mr. Prinsen’s ever had. Buck says he and the man he brought with him are willing to help do anything. Just the other day they helped build new plucking boxes. Now, you tell me, would a financier do that?”
    â€œYou heard Mr. Prinsen say he worked for Cecil Rhodes for ten years, and everybody knows Mr. Rhodes is one of the wealthiest men in the world,” Phoebe said. “So, by extrapolation, I would say Mr. De Wet is both well educated and well-off.”
    Gwen shook her head. “Phoebe, don’t sell yourself short. Just because Frank Sloan browbeats you all the time, don’t listen to him. You have a lot to offer a man.”
    â€œThanks, Gwen, you’re a dear friend, but I know who I am. There are days when I’m so weary I want to walk