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KatebyPatricia ArmstrongKATETORONTO NEW YORK LONDONAMSTERDAM PARIS SYDNEY HAMBURGSTOCKHOLM ATHENS TOKYO MILANMADRID WARSAW BUDAPEST AUCKLANDIf you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware thatthis book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold anddestroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisherhas received any payment for this "stripped book."ISBN 0~373-70665-0Copyright 1995 by Patricia Armstrong.All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction orutilization of this work in whole or In part in any form by anyelectronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented,including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any informationstorage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the writtenpermission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 DuncanMill Road,Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.All characters In this book have the author and have no relationwhatsoever to anyone beating the; name or names. They are not evendistantly inspired b known or unknown to the author, and all incidentsareThis edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks are registered inthe United States Patent and Trademark OfficeCanadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.Printed In U.S.A.To Michael, who's managed to roll with more punches than any husbandshould have to, with spatial thanks to Capt. W'dliam Frauldia, L.A.County Arson Investigator, andDr. CJu'istiI-Ire'mann, Jr." wizard.CHAPTER ONECONSUEL WAS NOWHERE in sight.Kate shifted the box perched on her hip and stepped wearily into thecluttered loft. Never mind the racket; how would she ever learn tolive with the greasy smells coming from the motorcycle-repair shopbelow?She held her head a little higher and tightened her vocal cords soshe'd be sure to sound cheerful. Her friend Consuela might beoblivious t the practicalities of life, but she never missed aninnuendo. If she knew how much Kate dreaded moving in with her, she'dbe devastated."Hello!" Kate called out. "It's me. Ah--ah--" Wiggling her noseagainst an impending sneeze, she lurched forward to add her last box tothe pile of packing crates on the dusty floor and whipped the foamcervical collar off her neck." Ah-choo."She pushed out her lower lip and blew hard to free a strand of hairstuck to her forehead. The Southern California heat could beoverwhelming in late August.There was a soft scuffle as her dearest friend in the world--whom Katealways thought of as a voluptuous, grown-up version of ShirleyTemple--appearedfrom behind a mound of linens. The softness of Consuela blond curlsand her rich purple caftan contrasted with the rough earthiness of theold loft."Bless you," Consuela said absently and dumped an armload of bathtowels on the floor. "Bruno hasn't called. It's been two wholedays!"Kate stared down at the towels. Sometimes Consuela sloppiness wasdazzling."Haven't you two made up yet?" she said, tossing her cervical collaraside."Don't I wish! Behold, for before you stands the very personificationof tragedy." Consuela hung her head and sighed melodramatically, thenbeamed her usual dimpled grin. "How about you, Katie? How're youholding up?"Barely, Kate thought. Those stairs were going to kill her."I'm doing fine," she said. She straightened her shoulders. "But it'safter three o'clock and hot as blazes in here. How about some icedtea?""No ice. The freezer doesn't work." Consuela bent over one of Kate'sboxes and started rooting around like a puppy. "Ooh, goodie--shampooand conditioner!"So much for privacy, Kate thought, and stepped around some clayflowerpots to make her way into the kitchen. She was happily surprisedby the sight of a clean teapot.She moved a box of soup cans filled with cuttings from her favoriterosebushes' onto the floor; she'd grown the roses with great success inher sunny, but now former, apartment. As she pulled two herbal teabags from her work shirt pocket, her fingers brushed the pink envelopeshe'd found stuffed in her old letter box.Feeling little-girl shy, she turned her back to Consuela and, for thefourth time in the past hour, pried the envelope open and peekedinside.The faded pink pipe cleaner was still there. A small square greetingcard featured a bubble-cheeked duck carrying a red umbrella and a signthat said, "To the Birthday Girl." As she touched the signature, thesound of a motorcycle's backfire exploded through the floorboards,followed by shouts of "Blow that mother!" and a raucous male cackle.Inhaling deeply, she folded the card and slipped the envelope back intoher pocket.Be it ever so humble, this was now her new home--a rent-controlled loftabove "Hawg Heaven, Serving Santa Monica Since 1979," where Consuelacontentedly lived and painted and weathered her many liaisons. That itwas located in an only marginally safe neighborhood and came completewith steep stairs and stinking chemicals mattered less to Kate than thefact that it was cheap, available and filled with Consuela's boundlesslove.Even as her funds had steadily dwindled, never once had Kate consideredmoving in with her parents. Their incessant fussing over her healthwould have driven her crazy. Besides, she'd repeatedly remindedherself, not only did living with Consuela make sense, it would befun.While the water came to a boil, Kate washed her face and pulled herhair into a ponytail. She was cooling her tea with tap water whenConsuela, her voluminous purple car tan billowing, swept out frombehind a paint-stained wooden easel and across the living area.Arms flung wide, she hurled her body backward onto a pile of brightlycolored cushions and landed with a muffled "Oof! Bring on the tea. I'myours." She made a face. "Frankly I'd rather be Bruno's."Kate set a troy with two mugs and some brownies on the floor betweenthem. "Forsake the brute. You were meant for finer things.""Trust me," Consuela said, her gray eyes glazing slightly, "it gets nofiner.""In that case, Bruno can have your body, but I get your brains."Consuela squeaked her approval while Kate leaned back against the stackof boxes, stretching her legs Out in front of her, and gave silentthanks for the relief to her shaky back muscles.She reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out the pink envelope.Consuela regarded it with curiosity."When I picked up the final load," Kate explained, "this was in mymailbox.""Who's it from?""If I tell you, you won't believe me." "Sure, I will. Who's it from?""My grandfather."Consuela looked up sharply. "You need a rest. Your grandfather's beendead for years.""Eighteen, to be exact, but evidently before he died he made out thisbirthday card, complete with instructions that it be delivered to me onmy thirtieth birthday.""Your birthday was three days ago.""The mail takes a little longer from Gracious Boon.""Come on, don't tell me there's actually a place called GraciousBoon.""It's true. It's a tiny town in the hills along the south coast ofOregon. That's where the sawmill s."Consuela bit into a brownie. "Oh, yeah, now I r-member. Yourgrandfather willed a sawmill to you along with some really weirdconditions.""They weren't weird at all. In order to inherit the Double Ready, Ihad to either be thirty years old or married.""L' I said--weird.""Don't knock it, sweetie. If my grandfather were alive today, you'ddrop Bruno in a flash. Even well into his eighties, the old man wasnatural-born Forever Commitment material."Consuela arched her eyebrows and popped the rest of the brownie intoher mouth."He simply assumed if I was thirty and not married, I might appreciatea second source of income, and if I was married I'd probably havebabies. He knew every woman with babies should have some mon inreserve, just in case.""You're the on! woman I know who stuffs her hies in with her taxreturns and then lines them up on the cold bare floor." Consuelanodded toward the row of children's picture books Kate had proppedagainst the wall first thing that morning."Yeah," Kate laughed, "they're my babies, all right. When I think ofall the patience and nurturing that went into bringing them into thisworld... Seven wonderful years as a children's-book editor, only tolose it all when my health caved in.""All you lost was the chance to work your fanny to the bone."I lost a whole lot more than that, Kate thought. Even before thediagnosis of myasthenia gravis, the intermittent weakness in her back,hands and eye muscles had forced her to abandon her career. Theensuing string of part-time secretarial jobs had not filled the gap inher heart any better than they'd paid the rent on her Brentwoodapartment.Effective today, she was living with Consuela and clutter andmotorcycle exhaust, and a disease for which, as yet, there was nocure."Anyway," she said, clearing the tightness from her throat, "I have nowsatisfied my grandfather's first condition. I am thirty Years old and,thanks to Charles, very unmarried.""Do I offer congratulations or condolences?""Just drink your tea. Up till now, living alone has suited me justfine.""Yeah, I know, and that really bothers me." "What?" Kate wasgenuinely surprised. In the ten roller coaster years they'd beenfriends, Consuela had never before said such a thing. "How come?""Oh... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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