“I…ah, the coins. I, ah…” Hank stammered, then gave her a weak smile.
“It is time for luncheon,” she said firmly and turned sideways to get past him. She halted on the stairs and put her hand to her breast and willed her heart to stop pounding. Was this man insane or just very eccentric? He didn’t look like a college professor. In fact, he didn’t act as if he had a brain in his head. She had left the bathroom and there he had stood, staring at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. Amanda had looked down to see if perhaps she had forgotten some important article of clothing. Then he’d thrown coins on the floor and floundered about, nearly knocking over furniture as he tried to retrieve them.
What he had been doing when she opened her door and nearly walked into his hand, she didn’t like to think about. She continued down the stairs.
“Amanda, you are late,” Taylor said sternly.
“I…I met Dr. Montgomery.”
Taylor was watching her. “He is younger than we anticipated and therefore more dangerous. He must be kept occupied. Have you studied the topics for today’s discussion?”
“Yes,” she said in a faraway voice. She couldn’t possibly voice her complaints to Taylor. She couldn’t say that she didn’t like Dr. Montgomery, or that she was even a little afraid of him. Taylor wanted her to spend time with him and she had to do it—for Taylor.
Dr. Montgomery sauntered down to the dining room at five minutes after one. At least this time he was fully dressed. Even though Taylor had lived in the same house with Amanda for eight years, had shared the same bathroom, she had never seen him in his shirt sleeves as Dr. Montgomery had first appeared to her.
Now he wore a simple, rather too casual tan suit and he had a way of sitting in his chair that was not quite proper.
“Was I late?” he asked. “Sorry. It took me a while to find all the coins. I can’t afford to lose anything, not on my salary,” he said, smiling at Amanda as if they shared some private joke.
Amanda did not return his smile. “I wonder, Dr. Montgomery, if we might discuss s
ome of the issues of your book.”
Hank was looking down at his plate in astonishment. No bowls or platters of food were served, just individual platefuls of what looked to be invalid food: a pale, soggy fish, about six green beans, three slices of tomato. He was hungry and this wasn’t going to fill a hole in a sock, much less the hole in his belly. He looked at the identical plates of Taylor and Amanda—except Amanda had even less on her plate. He’d have to get something to eat later.
“Dr. Montgomery?” Taylor said.
Hank looked at him, at the way he sat, shoulders back, neck stiff, and thought he took a lot on himself. He was just a fiancé yet he sat at the head of another man’s table. And why was he waiting to marry Amanda?
“Oh yes, issues,” Hank said and took a bite of his fish. It was as flavorful as eating a spongy piece of air. “I guess the real issue is, Who owns the land? Does the rich rancher or the worker? Does the rancher have the right to treat the worker as he wants or was slavery abolished? When are you two getting married?”
Amanda was speechless at the man’s presumption and rudeness, but Taylor was very smooth. He acted as if he hadn’t heard the last question.
“I believe it is the rancher’s land. The workers are not slaves, they can leave when they want,” Taylor said.
“And let their wives and kids starve?” Hank answered. “Look, maybe we better not get into this yet.”
“Of course, you’re right. This afternoon Amanda will take you on a tour of the ranch and you can see how a ranch of this size operates.”
Hank looked across the table at Amanda and thought it would be better not to be alone with her. He wondered how long her hair was when it was down. He’d already finished his meager meal, so he watched Amanda and Taylor eat their tasteless food ever so slowly. They seemed so prim and proper, yet they were in love and about to be married. Did they kiss passionately beneath the palm trees? Did Amanda slip into Taylor’s room at night?
“If it’s all the same to you, I thought I’d find a hammock and doze for the afternoon,” Hank said, then saw the two of them gaping at him. Now what did I say? he thought.
Taylor recovered first. “It has been arranged and there is no hammock,” he said, as if he expected no further change of his plans. Hank wanted to defy the arrogant bastard, but if Taylor was forcing the lovely Amanda on him, why should Hank fight him? Besides, they could go into town and get something to eat.
Amanda had hoped Taylor would allow the man to waste the afternoon lying about in a hammock, but he hadn’t, and Amanda knew he must have his reasons. She added laziness to the list of Dr. Montgomery’s attributes. She already had clumsy, poor table manners, aggressive, slovenly dresser. How many others would she discover this afternoon?
At the end of luncheon, Amanda said, “I will meet you at 2:15, Dr. Montgomery, in the north vestibule.”
His eyes twinkled. “Which end of the vestibule?”
“I beg your pardon?”
He smiled at her. “I will be there precisely at 2:15, not thirty seconds later.”
When she turned away from him she was frowning. For some reason she seemed to amuse him. She went upstairs to get ready, and when she came down he was waiting for her, leaning against the wall as if he were too tired to stand up straight. “Shall we go?”
“Your wish is my command.”