Lord of the High Lonesome by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1979-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

FRANK JARVIS STOOD RIGIDLY before Kit, his slightly paunchy figure unmoving, a pinched whiteness about his sunburned face and a resentful glitter in his eyes despite his silence.

"When I tell you to do something I expect it to be done!" Kit continued her lashing barrage that had begun some minutes ago. "I didn't tell you to do it tomorrow or the day after. I told you I wanted it done this afternoon. Now why isn't it? What possible excuse could you have?"

"Kyle's horse had thrown a shoe," Frank began defensively. Among his other talents, which included cooking, he was also a farrier. "The sorrel had already worn his down to a nub and your bay, Reno, had one loose. And I figured that since we were done with the hayin' for a while, we wouldn't be needin' the mower right away."

"It isn't for you to decide when we need the mower!" Kit retorted. "I told you I wanted it repaired today and that is exactly what I meant!"

She knew she was being unreasonable. Even when the words came out of her mouth she knew she was being unfair. But once started, Kit couldn't seem to stop. Some horrible demon kept driving her on.

And it wasn't easy for Frank to keep taking her abuse. In the first place, like Lew, he was old enough to be her father. And he'd put his years in at the Flying Eagle, enough so that the fact that he was conscientious about his work couldn't be questioned. Worst of all, he was being dressed down by a female. For an old-fashioned type of man like Frank Jarvis, that was hard to swallow.

"It seemed to me like the horses were more important," he defended.

"We have two different ideas about what is important," Kit retaliated. "And mine is the only one that counts!"

"If you don't like the way I do things—"

"I don't like the way you do things!" Kit could have bitten off her tongue for that.

"Careful there, Kitty." A third voice joined them in the interior shadows of the barn. "If you go to firin' the cook—" it was Lew standing just inside the door "—you just might find the rest of us walkin' out."

All the fight seemed to go out of her like the air from a deflating balloon. She turned away from both of them, hiding the sudden wave of vulnerability.

"Fix the mower tomorrow, Frank," Kit asked with a tired and beaten sound to her voice.

There was a long moment of hesitation. "I will," he promised finally.

Without moving she listened to his stilted footsteps as he walked through the scattering of hay on the barn floor and his murmured exchange with Lew at the door. It slid open, then closed. Alone, Kit leaned wearily against the rough boards of an interior barn wall.

What was the matter with her, she wondered. It had been impossible for anyone to live with her this past week, including herself. She had been like this ever since that

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