Amanda proffered an expression of bland curiosity. “He mad at Zeke or something? I thought they were all close.”
Betty turned on Amanda with that look of the old hand about to break the greenhorn in. “Last time Jake Kendall left this place, he darn near busted his bank balance to get back. He’d rather be in traction with a back brace on than leave this ranch.”
Amanda leaned her elbows back on the island counter and settled in, a look of amusement replacing the curiosity. “You’re kidding. Why?”
Betty shrugged. “It’s just Jake’s way. He’s got no desire to see anything but the Wyoming mountains, got no reason to ride anything but a horse and maybe, on occasion, a pickup truck.”
Which wouldn’t explain the long article on the gondolas of Venice that had looked so well perused.
Why?
Amanda couldn’t imagine. Clovis, she might suspect of hyperbole. Betty, on the other hand, had to have information dragged out of her, and an adjective was almost beyond her scope of information.
Amanda shook her head, still sipping her coffee, her eyes more on questions than the scene in front of her. “I can’t imagine he wouldn’t even visit his family. I mean, they’re all so faraway.”
It didn’t seem to bother Betty any. She poured the first cup of coffee from the new pot and stirred in about a half cup of milk. “They know Jake well enough to visit here, if they need.
“And it’s not like none of ‘em can afford to come home. Jake does well enough to get ‘em here if they can’t do it themselves, though now that Zeke and Gen are out of school, they’re doin’ fine by themselves. Those children just aren’t tied to this piece of land, like Jake is.”
“That seems to be a Kendall trait,” Amanda offered.
Betty nodded. “As long as anybody can remember, there’s been a Kendall here. One of the most beautiful spots on earth, and one of the hardest to turn into anything. But that’s always been the Kendalls for you. Just hardheaded enough not to listen to anybody but themselves.”
Amanda couldn’t help laughing. “Well, now, that’s a trait I’ve certainly seen in the last twenty-four hours. I guess Jake never considered turning the place into a dude ranch? There are so many nearby.”
The shake of Betty’s head was definite. “He’s got no patience for that kind of thing. Didn’t want to tie the children down to helpin’ run it if it came to that. Besides, his real calling has always been horses. That’s what he’s good at, and that’s what he does.”
Clovis tried his best not to make any noise sneaking in the back door, but he didn’t do very well.
“Boss awake yet, Betty?”
Betty turned on him like a mother hen. “You’re not going to bother that boy when he’s still laid up from that beast. Now, you just get back outta here.”
Clovis’s features crumpled into misery. “Oh, I wouldn’t, you know that. Not normally. Not till he came stompin’ out with you chasin’ him, I wouldn’t. But it’s Alabaster.”
“What about Alabaster?”
All three turned to find Jake in the kitchen door, struggling to get his arm into his shirt.
Betty went right on the offensive. “Don’t you dare go out of this house, Jake Kendall. You just busted your ribs and stove in your head.”
“Betty,” he said, calming her with more patience than Amanda gave him credit for, especially considering the color of his skin and the lines of pain and weariness etched on his face. “Hush. What’s wrong with Alabaster, Clovis?”
Clovis actually pulled off his hat and wrung it in his hands. “He’s down, Jake. I think it’s colic.”
“Well, get him up,” Jake barked, right back in command. “I’ll be right out.”
“You will not!” Betty protested, even though by now Amanda could tell that the woman knew it was useless.
Jake turned on her with calm consideration. “I’m not gonna feel any better in here,” he told her, his breathing a little strained. His jeans were on, and his feet had socks on them. Amanda couldn’t imagine what it had taken to get his undershirt on. “It’s my horse. Now, help me with this sleeve.”
He never even acknowledged that Amanda was in the room. Betty slammed down her coffee cup and walked over to him, easing his shirt around for him so that he didn’t have to reach much with his ribs.
“I’ll call the vet,” she bit off, pulling the front closed with a tug so he could button it.
He smiled that crooked little-boy smile that made Amanda’s knees weak and bent over to kiss the top of Betty’s head. “Thanks,” was all he said before he turned back to his room.
It took Amanda a minute to recover her senses.
