A Rich Man for Dry Creek and A Hero For Dry Creek: A Rich Man For Dry Creek / A Hero For Dry Creek

Robert wasn’t about to give up. It wasn’t ideal. But the camera was in place and he was determined to kiss someone. Even if it was Jenny.

He heard her first soft shocked breath as he drew Jenny to him. He was close enough to feel her second indignant breath as he bent his head.

The camera flashed. The talking stopped. A bead rolled.

Robert was triumphant. His big moment was recorded. He could end the kiss. But he didn’t. Something was happening.

The kiss blossomed. Jenny tasted of home. The minute Robert felt her lips tremble beneath his, he was lost. He didn’t want the kiss to end. He felt like he had caught a fragile thread of something precious he didn’t even understand.

“Mmmm, sweet. I like that—I mean you—I like you,” he whispered when he finally drew away.

“Not love?” Bright red dots stood out on both of Jenny’s cheeks. “I thought ‘I love you’ came easy enough to your type.”

Robert felt like he was coming out of a cozy cave and facing the frost of winter.

“My type?” he asked cautiously.

Jenny’s brown eyes had deepened to a snapping black. She bristled.

“The type of man who kisses his employees—whom he likes —even when he says he loves Mrs. Hargrove.”

“I don’t kiss my employ—” Robert stopped. That was no longer true. “I mean, I don’t. Well, I didn’t—”

There was an incessant ringing somewhere and a gnarled old hand reached from behind Robert. Mr. Gossett had pulled the ringing phone out of the coat pocket. “This yours?”

“You want it?” Robert asked Jenny.

Jenny’s cheeks were red still and her breathing quick. She was adorable.

Robert suspected she reached for the phone more for something to do than because she wanted to talk.

“Yes.” Jenny turned her back to him and walked a few feet away.

“You talked to him!” She looked over her shoulder in a betraying move. It was the sister. “So he knows.”

Robert knew he should pick up on the accusation Jenny had left dangling and make some strong sexual harassment statements. Publicly threaten to fire her unless she kissed him again. That would certainly knock him off the bachelor list. Women didn’t tolerate sexual harassment anymore and they shouldn’t.

But Robert didn’t open his mouth. Suddenly the list was not all that important.

He had met the woman the Bob inside him wanted to marry and she was looking at him this very minute like he was some hair ball a very unwelcome stray cat had coughed up.

Considering the set of her jaw as she talked to her sister, Robert figured he had as much chance of ever kissing her again as he had of teaching that stray cat to dance a tango.

Chapter Three

“H e kissed you! You’re telling me he kissed you! Robert Buckwalter the Third kissed you!”

Jenny’s sister was screeching so loudly Jenny had to hold the cell phone away from her ear. She’d slipped outside so that she could finish the phone conversation in private. She shivered from the cold.

“After he kissed Mrs. Hargrove,” Jenny said as she wiped one hand on her chef’s apron. The coarse bleached muslin steadied her. She was a chef. An employee. “He’s my boss. He can’t kiss me. He didn’t even say he loved me.”

“Love! He loves you!” her sister screeched even louder.

“No, he didn’t say that—that’s what I’m saying. He didn’t even attempt to be sincere.”

“But he kissed you.”

The Montana night was lit by some stars and a perfectly round moon. Silver shadows fell on the snow where the reflection of the barn light showed through the barn door and two square side windows. A jumble of cars and trucks were parked in the road leading up to the barn.

“Maybe he did it because I talked to you about him. Maybe there’s some servant’s code I breached when I told secrets about the master. You know, maybe it’s a revenge thing.”

Jenny could hear the pause on the other end of the phone. The silence lasted for a full minute.

Finally her sister spoke. “Have you been taking those vitamins Mom sent you?”

“Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re getting old. First you don’t even wonder about whether or not the man is married and now he kisses you—Robert Buckwalter the Third actually kisses you—and you think it’s for revenge!”

“Well, it could be.”

“Men like him don’t kiss for revenge! They use lawsuits. Or buyouts. Corporate takeovers. They use termination. He could fire you. But not kisses! Kisses are for romance.”

Jenny snorted. “I smell like fish and my hair is flat. No man’s kissing me for romance.”

“You’re in your chef’s apron?” Some of the bubble drained out of her sister’s voice. “With that funny hairnet on?”

“And orthopedic white shoes because I’m standing so much. And no makeup because the steam from the lobster pots would make my mascara run. And I even have a butter stain on my apron—not a big one, but it’s there in the left corner.”

“Then why is he kissing you?” her sister wailed and then caught herself. “Not that—I mean you’re real attractive when you’re…well, you know—”

“Those are my thoughts exactly. I might pass for someone in his social circle when I’m dressed up—heels, makeup, the works.”

“You looked real good in that black dress you wore last New Year’s.”

“But in my working clothes, I’m more likely to attract a raving lunatic than a rich man.”

“Are you sure you don’t have some exotic perfume on? One of those musk oil scents?”

“Not a drop.”

“Well, this isn’t fair, then. A man like this Buckwalter fellow shouldn’t go around kissing women just for kicks. He could hurt their feelings.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s so rich he doesn’t need to worry about anyone’s feelings. Especially the feelings of his employees.”

It was the dumped pet thing all over again. The rich were rich enough to be selfish. They didn’t care about their pets. They didn’t care about other people. That was all there was to it. The normal courtesies of life didn’t apply to people like Robert Buckwalter.

Jenny looked over toward the barn. Mrs. Hargrove stood in the open doorway watching her anxiously. She was motioning for her to come back inside.