“His name’s Secret.”
“He is your pride and your joy, isn’t he?”
So she wouldn’t realize just how precious Secret was to him, Roman gave his horse a disinterested glance. “He’s just a horse.”
Theodosia disagreed. The stallion was not just a horse. There was something unusual about him, something very special, but she couldn’t understand what it was.
She looked at Roman again. “Why must you buy the land, Mr. Montana? I’ve heard that many men simply work land that is vacant. They make quite a good living without having to purchase the land.”
He sneered. “And what’s going to happen to those men if the owners decide to use the land. Miss Worth? They’ll be run off, that’s what. I’ve made sure every blade of grass on the land I want will really belong to me. It took me a while, but I found Senor Alvaro Madrigal, the man who holds the original Spanish land grant. He lives in Templeton, and when I asked him about the land, he was more than willing to sell it. He has no family to leave it to, and no plans to return to it. Every so often, when I have a fair amount of money, I go give it to him. That’s what I was doing in Templeton when I met Dr. Wallaby. Once Senor Madrigal signs the warranty over to me, no one is ever going to take the land away from me.”
She knew by the way he spoke that his horse ranch was his passion, as going to Brazil was hers. “Do you plan to raise a family as well as horses?”
“No,” came his swift and adamant reply. God, the very idea brought back the desperation and frustration he’d been dealing with for thirteen long years. There was no way in hell he’d go through it again.
He’d been a fool to go through it the first time.
“You don’t want a family,” Theodosia deliberated out loud. “Why?”
“Weren’t we talking about Dr. Wallaby?” he flared.
Evasion, she mused. A sure sign that something about family was highly disturbing to him. “I’m sorry if talking about your future upsets you.”
“My future doesn’t upset me at all, Miss Worth.Youdo. Can we just have a normal conversation without you picking apart every damned word I say?”
“Very well. Dr. Wallaby is not a wealthy man, and that is why he is unable to give you a higher salary. Indeed, his financial straits are the reason for his being in Texas. He is awaiting funds from his benefactors in New England. Once he receives them, he will return to Brazil. And if he finds me suitable to be his assistant, I shall be traveling there with him. Are you familiar with Coleoptera?”
He found it hard to keep up with her and took a moment to ponder all the things she’d just told him. “Cleopatra? Some ancient queen, that one who killed herself by letting a snake bite her. Hell of a way to go.”
Theodosia stared at him for a moment. “I didn’t say Cleopatra, Mr. Montana. I said Coleoptera. That is an order of insects having four wings, of which the outer pair are modified into stiff elytra that protect the inner pair when at rest.”
He barely understood a word she said. “We don’t have those kinds of bugs in Texas,” he snapped.
“Why, certainly you have beetles.”
“Beetles? Why the hell didn’t you justsaybeetles?”
“Do you know what a Pindamonhangaba beetle is?”
“Pinda—I can’t evensayit.”
She clicked her tongue.“Pronounceis a better word choice thansay.You cannotpronounceit. A Pindamonhangaba is a beetle that lives along the banks of the Pindamonhangaba River of Brazil. Dr. Wallaby’s extensive studies of the beetle indicate that its saliva may contain a chemical that will cure alopecia.”
“Alopecia?” He wondered what sort of dreaded disease alopecia was.
“Alopecia is baldness,” Theodosia explained, “and Dr. Wallaby has honored me with his willingness to interview me for the position as his research assistant.”
Roman frowned. “You’re going all the way to Brazil with some old man just to study beetle spit?”
Theodosia licked her finger, then rubbed it over the spot of dust she saw on the top of her hand. “Would you have the same attitude toward Dr. Wallaby’s research if you were bald? I think not. Most of the funding that Dr. Wallaby requires for his studies is given to him by bald sponsors.”
Beetle spit, Roman mused. If he’d heard of anything stranger, he couldn’t remember what it was. Imagine spending good money on something so stupid.
Shaking his head, he watched John the Baptist stick his beak into his water container.
The parrot flung the water every which way. “Dr. Wallaby, it is imperative that I conceive a child,” he screeched. “It would please me enormously if you would consent to be his or her sire.”
At the bird’s statements, Roman sat up straight and stared at Theodosia. “He said—”
