“If I was I’d have come down to dinner, now, wouldn’t I? What I am is busy. Just stick the food in the fridge like I asked. I’ll eat it later if I get hungry. Now good night.”
He stepped back and slammed the door before she could reply. Astonished, Kate stared at the wooden panel just inches from her face. Before she could moved or even react, the door jerked opened again partway.
A beady eye glared at her through the crack. J.T.’s hand shot out, hooked the Do Not Disturb sign over the outside doorknob, withdrew, and the door snapped shut again.
The sound was followed by the sharp click of the lock.
Kate stared at the swinging sign with disbelief, her temper coming to a boil. Never in her life had anyone slammed a door in her face!
She was so angry she was tempted to haul off and give the door a hard kick. If she hadn’t valued the old paneled walnut—and her toes—she would have.
Teeth clenched, her eyes narrowed into slits, Kate stood there for several seconds, glaring at the intricate grain of the wood and debating with herself about banging on it again and giving him a dressing down that would blister his ears.
Finally, though, she huffed, spun on her heels and stomped back down the stairs. See if she would ever try to be nice to him again. From now on the obnoxious oaf could starve for all she cared.
And to think that she had been worried about falling for him. Ha! Fat chance.
Kate didn’t see J.T. again that evening, nor all the next day, but she would not allow herself to worry about him. He could hole up in his room and rot for all she cared. If she’d known he was a Jekyll and Hyde she would never have agreed to let him stay in the first place.
The second morning after their run-in she entered the kitchen to find dirty dishes in the sink. Kate gave the mess a sour look and loaded it all into the dishwasher, determined not to feel relieved that he’d finally eaten something.
After a solitary breakfast, Kate spent the morning finishing the outside winterizing. Though the sun was shining, the wind had a bitter bite, a reminder that the first storm of the season was bearing down on the mountains. As soon as she went back inside she telephoned Lewis Goodman for the third time in as many days, and got into a heated argument with him over the firewood he had been promising to deliver for over a month.
Lewis, like everyone else in Gold Fever, hated doing business with Kate, but not enough to turn down her money. Particularly since she ordered more firewood than anyone else in town. However, he always made the transaction as difficult for her as he could.
“You’ll get your firewood when I’m ready to deliver it,” he barked.
“Lewis, the weather service is predicting snow by the end of the week. I need that firewood. I’m warning you, if you don’t deliver it soon, I’m going to call a woodcutter in Durango or Ouray.”
He gave a confident snort, and she could almost see his smirk. “You won’t do that. It’ll cost you three times as much if they have to haul the wood all the way up here.”
“It’ll be worth it not to have to put up with your rudeness and game playing!” she snapped, and hung up the telephone before he could argue more.
Between her maddening boarder and Lewis, Kate’s mood was less than serene. Needing an outlet for the fury churning inside her, she attacked her inside chores with a vengeance.
First she gathered all the laundry and lugged it down to the basement—all, that is, except what was in J.T.’s room. Which was just one more thing that was getting under her skin. She would probably have to muck out his room with a shovel if he didn’t surface soon.
When the washing machines were chugging away, she returned to the kitchen, where she cleaned out the refrigerator and scrubbed the oven, stove top and vent hood, but even when the jobs were done she was still simmering.
Hoping to work off the rest of her anger, she spent the entire afternoon cleaning out the kitchen cabinets and putting in new shelf paper. In between chores she made several trips to the basement to transfer washing to the dryers and fold and put away the clean laundry.
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