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him, I'd keep away from liquor from now on," he added dryly.
She smiled. "I'll try to make sure he does that," she replied gently.
There, she told herself later, it was done. The wheels were in motion. In no time, she'd be plain old
Penelope Mathews again, not Penelope Tremayne. The thought depressed her. She'd wanted so badly
to keep the name, to have the marriage real and wanted. But C.C. had made no secret of his feelings on
the matter, or of his patent disgust with the idea of Pepi as a wife. She wondered if she was ever going
to be able to forget the wounding things he'd said to her.
On an impulse, she stopped by the local department of labor office to see what kinds of jobs were
going for women with minimum typing skills. Fate was kind. There was a receptionist's job open with
a local insurance agency. She went over to inquire about it, and was hired.
She was to start on the following Monday, a week away
on the condition that their valued receptionist, who'd just had a baby, stuck to her decision not to
return. They couldn't refuse her if she wanted her job back, and they promised to call Pepi if she
wasn't needed.
Well, if that didn't work out, she'd find something else, she promised herself. There was just no way
she could stay on the ranch now that this fiasco had occurred. Every time she saw C.C, it would rip
her heart open. And if he made fun of her, or taunted her about the almost-marriage, it would be
unbearable. Probably he still hated her. That might make it easier. Ben needed him, so she couldn't
demand that he be fired. She'd just have to find a graceful way out of the dilemma for all of them.
Despite the hurt, she loved C.C. more than her own life. She could leave the ranch and find a room in
El Paso, and a job. That way her father could have his very necessary foreman and she could have
peace of mind. Besides, Brandon lived in El Paso. He'd look out for her. She might even marry him.
He was kind and he cared about Her. Surely that was better than living alone.
By Wednesday afternoon, C.C. still hadn't come back.
Wednesday night, Brandon took Pepi to a cattleman's association meeting with him. It was a dinner
meeting, and Pepi enjoyed not only the meal but the discussion about range improvement methods
that followed it.
She'd worn a new mustard-colored rayon skirt with her knee-high lace-up Apache moccasins and a
Western-cut patterned blouse. Her reddish-brown hair was around her shoulders for a change, and
she'd put on enough makeup to embellish her face. She looked pretty, and Brandon's interest was
echoed by several single men present.
Her drooping spirits got quite a lift. She smiled and talked and laughed, and by the time they left the
meeting, she was relaxed and happy.
That mood lasted until they got to the front porch and Brandon bent to kiss her good-night. Before he
reached her lips, a coldly unapproachable C.C. sauntered into the light from the darkened corner
where he'd been sitting.
"Oh, hello, C.C," Brandon said hesitantly. He raked a hand through his red hair, glancing worriedly at
Pepi's suddenly white face. "I'll call you in the morning, Pepi.
Good night!"
He darted off the porch. Pepi watched him go so that she wouldn't have to look at C.C. One glimpse
told her that he was wearing a charcoal-gray suit with a pearly Stetson, and that he looked dangerous.
Smoke from the cigarette in his lean fingers drifted past her nose as Brandon waved and drove out of
the yard.
"Where have you been?" he asked, his deep voice accusing.
"I've been to a cattleman's association meeting, C.C," she replied, moving unobtrusively away from
the threat of his powerful body. She turned and went into the house, leaving C.C to close the door
behind them.
"No word of welcome?" he asked sarcastically.
She didn't look at him. She couldn't bear to see the expression in his eyes. She started toward the
staircase, but he reached out to catch her arm.
Her reaction caught him off guard. She jerked her arm away from his lean hand and backed against
the staircase, her wide, dark eyes accusing and frightened.
His thin lips parted on a sharp breath. "My God, you're not afraid of me?" he asked, scowling.
"I'm tired," she said, averting her face. "I just want to go to bed. Mr. Hardy says you can come in and
sign the annulment papers Friday," she added. "I started proceedings and I'll pay for them. You won't
have to be out a penny. Is Dad in his study?"
He frowned as he lifted the cigarette to his lips. "He's over at the bunkhouse, talking to Jed. I don't
want you seeing Hale while you're legally married to me."
She hesitated, but it wasn't really much to ask. And she was too tired to argue with him. "All right,
C.C," she replied dully. "Maybe the annulment won't take too long."
His eyes narrowed to angry slits. "In a hurry to put Hale's ring on your finger?" he asked.
"I don't want to fight with you," she said quietly, meeting his gaze with an effort. It disturbed her, the
way he was looking at her. It made her heart race, her knees tremble under her. "I've got a job," she
told him. "I start Monday.
Then I'll look for a room or something in El Paso. You won't. . . You won't have to worry about
running into me all the time around here."
"Pepi!" he said huskily.
She whirled. "Goodnight, C.C.!"
She ran all the way upstairs and into her room, closing the door with hands that trembled, with tears
running down her pale cheeks. So he was back. Back, and spoiling for trouble. That didn't bode well
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