CHAPTER 2

	The bedroom Maria showed her to was a striking contrast to the very masculine
sitting room she had just been in.  The room was brightly decorated in very feminine
colours, with chintz covered chairs and a soft satin bed spread and drapes.  The carpet,
a large round rug that softened the room while still leaving the antique hardwood framing
the outer edge of the room, was thick and Joey imagined how luxurious sinking her toes
into it would feel.  Its colours were muted beige’s and dusty hues, with a single large
rose in the centre that just happened to be situated right beside the bed.
	“This is the ladies guest room,” Maria told her, with a warm smile that hid a hint of
amusement.  “There is a private bathroom there, and a closet there.  Harvey will bring
your cases up later and I will unpack them for you if you wish.  Mr. Blake is having a
writing desk moved in here for you as soon as possible.  I’m afraid he had had us
prepare -- umm-- the men’s guest room by mistake.”  With her last comment the
amusement broke out in earnest, and Joey could see the laughter in the girl’s eyes.
	Joey sighed.  “I know everyone was expecting me to be a man,” she said.  “But if
anyone had just asked...” she shrugged, and her voice trailed off. There was really no
point in continuing.  She could pretty much imagine what had happened.  Blake had
wanted a man for his biography, for whatever reason.  When Colville had summoned
her to his office, Clark Nielson had likely seem a perfect opportunity to aggravate his
employer.  He could easily have told them right then and there that she was not what Mr.
Winters wanted, he could easily have telephoned his boss and told him that Joey
Webber was a woman.  He had done neither.  He had purposely let her come to the
Silver Star knowing full well that her presence would anger his boss, to say the very
least. 
	And now, she was standing in a room more luxurious than any she had ever
seen in her life, with a maid waiting to unpack her suitcases for her if she just said the
word.  And, there was a ladies guest room and a mens guest room!  Just how rich was
this Blake Winters, anyway?  She sighed again as she looked around the room.
	“Thank you Maria, but I can manage the unpacking myself,” she said, and the girl
smiled, nodded, and left the room.
	Joey walked over to the window and looked outside with a gasp.  Would nothing
in this place ever cease to surprise her?  Behind the heavy dust rose drapes and thick
sheers, the window was actually an elegant set of French doors that opened onto a
balcony.  She stepped out into t he early afternoon air and felt the breeze on her face. 
Stretching out before her, as far as the eye could see, was the beauty of the Silver Star
Ranch.  It was absolutely breathtaking!  She noticed that she probably wasn’t the only
one to think so, or at one end of the balcony stood a small round table and two chairs.  It
was obvious this view was meant to be enjoyed.
	She walked over to lean on the railing and looked around, taking in the sheer
magnitude of the place she found herself in.  It would have been perfect, if not for the
sight of Blake Winters striding casually across the grounds below.

	As if on cue, the clouds rolled in in the middle of the afternoon, and the sky
opened up in a down pour.  Joey wondered if even the weather was at Blake Winters’
beck and call, as she stood at the window and watched the water sheeting down the
glass, blocking out the ranch outside completely.
	She had hoped to get out of the house and explore the grounds a bit, but that
plan had to be put on hold.  Instead, she had been left to wander around the large
house.  Thankfully she ran into Maria on her travels, and the girl seemed glad to give her
a guided tour of the rest of the house.
	On the main floor she was already painfully familiar with the deeply masculine
siting room where she had met Blake Winters earlier that day.  Apparently the room was
Blake’s own private study, for next to it was a large, airy front living room furnished with
comfortable, yet stylish furnishings.  Joey was surprised by the contrast between the two
rooms, and could actually picture herself sitting in the larger room, curled up in a chair
next tot the window reading a good book.
	Next, was the formal dining room, functional yet elegant, with its large antique
oak table, chairs and sideboard.  Beyond that, she found herself in a large modern
kitchen that boasted every convenience once could ever wish for.  It was decorated in
homey country style and has a cozy breakfast nook off to one side, surrounded by a
curved, windowed wall.  Outside, Maria told her, was a patio where meals could be
eaten if the weather permitted it.
	All this was situated at one end of the house, off the large main entry hall with its
curved staircase leading up to the sleeping quarters.  At the other end of the sprawling
first floor, were the staff quarters.  This was practically a self contained home attached to
the main house.  Harvey lived there with his wife,  Mable.  It seemed Harvey was a
general man about the house, and his wife was the Winters’ household cook.  the
couple had been with the ranch since the days of Blake’s parents.
	Maria also lived in the staff quarters, as did an older housekeeper named Tilly,
who simply bubbled over with pleasantries when Joey was introduced to her.  The staff
had their own sitting area and cooking facilities that were quite comfortable by Joey’s
standards.  In fact, the entire staff end of the house was even bigger than Joey’s own
apartment back home!
	Of course, there was also the upstairs sleeping quarters, where Joey had already
spent quite a bit of time in the ladies guest room, the room she would call her own for the
duration of her stay.  Across the hall was the mens guest room, which Joey had to admit
had a decidedly more masculine decor with dark colours and country styling.  There was
a large dark desk, Joey noticed, that had probably been meant for Joe Webber.  Next to
it, was a room Maria called the first guest room, which was skilfully decorated to cater to
any taste.  Joey imagined it would be used for couple who were visiting.  It seemed her
host aimed to please his guests, at least where their accommodation was concerned,
she thought.  His attitude could do with an adjustment though!
	And then of course, there was his suite. The door to that room remained firmly
closed. Maria remarked only that his suite contained a sitting area, sleeping area, walk-in
closet and private bathroom.  His suite was at the opposite end of the hall to her own,
Joey noticed, and somehow that proximity made her shiver.  She was glad her bathroom
and closet were situated on that side of the room, as if it offered her a buffer zone she
seemed to feel she needed.
	Back downstairs Joey found herself drawn to the staff quarters again, where Tilly
welcomed her with the same bubbly greeting she had seen the first time they had met.
	“This is quite the house!” Joey commented, as she accepted a chair at the
kitchen table next to where Tilly was ironing. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
	Tilly nodded vigorously.  “Aye, it’s gone through many changes since I first came
here to work for Mr. and Mrs. Winters. That seems like such a long time ago.  This
kitchen was part of the main house back then.  The whole staff quarters were.  The living
room and dinging room were originally where the entry hall and staircase are. The house
was a bungalow back then.  The staff had their own houses across the courtyard.”  Tilly
waved her hand over her shoulder and continued working.  “The rooms at the other end
of the house were added later when the upper sleeping quarters were built.  The existing
living room and dining rooms were gutted then.  When it was all done, the house staff
moved into these quarters and the houses were strictly for the ranch foreman and such. 
Mr. Blake was just a boy then.  I remember the construction very well, it lasted an entire
summer, and it made everything very dusty.”
	Tilly shook her head as she remembered, and Joey smiled.  She somehow
wasn’t surprised to hear the older woman talk about the events in terms of how it all
affected her job.  It occurred to her that the woman must be a very good housekeeper to
have kept her job so long.  It also occurred to her that  Tilly might be a wealth of
information where the biography of Blake Winters was concerned.
	“So you lived here while Mr. Winters was growing up then?”  she asked the older
woman.
	“Oh, aye.”  Tilly nodded as she set the iron aside, folded the linen table cloth she
had been working on, and reached for another one. “I was hired not long after Mr. Blake
was born.  Mrs. Winters needed help with the baby and the maid they had before me
had to leave quickly, something about her mother being ill I think.  I was never sure, and
they didn’t talk about her much after my husband George and I came to work here.”
	“So your husband works here too?” Joey asked, and Tilly sighed.
	“My George passed away eight years ago,” she said, a reminiscent smile on her
face.  “He’s buried in the family cemetery here on the ranch. Mr. Blake insisted, bless his
heart.  I’m going to join him there when my time comes.”  She smiled at Joey and
nodded her head slightly, then she looked at her with a thoughtful gaze.
	“Miss Joey, I understand that Mr. Blake was not extremely kind to you when you
arrived.  Mark my word, he is a wonderful man, very loyal to his staff, and to any he
holds dear.  He dedicates more than just his money to that children’s’ charity of his too. 
You just be patient, he’ll come ‘round.”
	Joey grunted under her breath.  “I don’t know about that.  He seemed very upset
by the fact that I wasn’t a man.”
	Tilly laughed.  “Our Mr. Blake is a very private man.  He doesn’t like displaying his
life in front of the whole world.  He’d just as soon live out here on the ranch and never
attend any of those fancy functions he sometimes has to go to, and he would rather not
have every detail of his life laid down in print for every housewife in the country to read
about.  However, he sees the benefits this book could have for the charity, so he agreed
to do it.  That doesn’t mean he likes the idea any better.”
	Till set down the iron and looked at Joey with a straight forward stare. “It is a fact,
Miss Joey, that when our Mr. Blake has to do something he doesn’t want to do, he at
least wants to have control over the way it is done.  For his own reasons, he decided he
wanted a man to write his book.”  Tilly shrugged.  “Things just didn’t go according to his
plan, and it threw him a little off balance.  He’ll come ‘round I tell you.”
	“Maybe,” Joey sighed, “but I’m not as certain of that as you are, Tilly.  I think he
just doesn’t like me, and I’ll be surprised if he ever will.”

	That evening at dinner Joey was convinced that idea was reinforced.  The meal
was served in the dining room, although apparently Blake usually ate in the breakfast
nook or on the patio.  The grand dining room, with its entertainment sized table, seemed
to dwarf them as the two of them sat there eating their meal.
	“I don’t much like eating in here.” Blake stated, as he looked around the room.  “It
is such a waste of space.  I’d much rather eat in the kitchen.”
	And without me, Joey thought, as she concentrated on her plate. He had spoken
like anything else he had ever said -- straight forward and to the point, leaving no doubt
about how he felt.   Joey was certain he blamed her for his having to eat in the dining
room.
	“It is rather large for two people,” she agreed, trying to make conversation.  “But it
must be very useful for entertaining?  It is quite an elegant room.”
	“I do not entertain.” he stated flatly, and Joey believed that that statement was
absolutely true.
	Joey probed further. “The room must have been used for entertaining at some
time?”
	He grunted. “My mother -- Cordelia -- loved to entertain.  It was her consolation
for having to live out here on the ranch in t he middle of nowhere.”
	The bitterness in his voice surprised her, and Joey glanced up just as some
strange expression on his face was replaced by his normal neutral stare.
	“You r mother didn’t like it here?”  Joey asked, but if she thought he was going to
continue the conversation she was mistaken.
	“My mother didn’t like the isolation of ranch life.  Entertaining was her way of
coping.  I know Mable was trying to make a good impression tonight but I suggest we
eat in the kitchen from now on.”  His tone was brusque, and Joey took it as a direct
dismissal of the topic of discussion.  If he was going to clam up like this, she thought, at
any mention of his family, then she had no idea how she was supposed to write a
biography about his life!
	With a bright smile, Joey straightened her back and nodded. “That’s fine with me. 
I feel a little odd in here anyway.  I’m sure the kitchen will be much more comfortable.”
	He said nothing more,  and the rest of their meal was eaten in silence, after
which he retired to his sitting room and left her alone.  With nothing else to do, Joey
made her way back to the staff quarters, where she ended up watching television with
Maria and Mable.  At least the staff were friendly, she thought, and they seemed only too
willing to offer her information when she asked for it.
	“Mr. Blake’s father, Samuel Winters, made his fortune down south.”  Mable said,
as she sat in her rocking chair next to Joey, gently rocking back and forth.  “He had a
small ranch down there, and darned if they didn’t strike oil on the property!  He made
millions but he wasn’t an oil man. Ranchin’ was in his blood.  He bought this place and
started up again, not long after he married Cordelia Layton.”  Mable paused for a
moment and watched what was happening on the television, before she turned a smiling
face to Joey and continued.
	“They had already been here several years before Harvey and I came out here
to work for them.  Mrs. Winters insisted on more staff.  She hated it out here right from
the start, and insisted on lots of entertaining.  She often said, if she couldn’t get back to
the world, she would bring the world to her here.  Mr. Winters hired me as cook, and
Harvey to work on the ranch.  Oh there were grand parties back then!  Garden parties
with big tents, and elegant formal dinners, and dancing.  Mrs. Winters loved dancing. 
Harvey spent days setting up the grand decorations she wanted, getting things just right
for her -- tents, gardens planted just so, and fountains, and tables set out.  I cooked and
cooked.  She would give me her menu and Harvey would drive me down to Billings to
get what I needed, and everything had to be just right.”
	“You didn’t do your shopping in Draper?” Joey asked.
	Mable shook her head. “Oh no, not for them fancy parties.  Mrs. Winters insisted
on special ingredients and fancy linens.  Only the best for Cordelia Winters!  We had to
go all the way to Billings to get what she needed. Sometimes we even had to have stuff
ordered in special.  Now Mr. Blake, he don’t go in for all that fancy entertaining.  These
days, we just do our shopping in Draper.”
	“Blake did mention that his mother did a lot of entertaining to cope with the
isolation here,” Joey said, knowing it wouldn’t’ take much to get Mable talking again.
	The older woman nodded. “ Oh, aye, there were lots and lots of parties.  Mr.
Winters didn’t care much for ‘em either, but he did his best to keep his Cordelia happy. 
He was a rancher at heart had she was a socialite.  Their families went way back
together.  It didn’t take her long at all to tire of the life of a ranch wife.”  Mable leaned in
closer to Joey and lowered her voice. “But she never tired of his money, and if you ask
me the only reason she stayed here with him was for the money.”
	“Oh?” Joey asked, somewhat surprised, and Mable nodded again. 
	“Mr. winters was a very handsome man, just like our Mr. Blake, but not as dark. 
Apparently there were lots of women who would have given their eye teeth for the
chance to be Mrs. Samuel Winters back then, but Cordelia got him and she made sure
she was going to keep him.”  Mable shrugged. “And Mr. Winters loved his ranch so it
wasn’t too much of a sacrifice for him to let her have her parties and her shoppin trips to
keep her happy.”
	Joey looked at the other woman thoughtfully. “What did Blake’s father and
mother look like then?” she asked, trying to imagine what features he might have taken
from each of them.
	Mable settled back in her rocking chair.  “Well, when Harvey and I came here,
Mr. Blake was already about five years old.   Mr. Winters was about the age that Mr.
Blake is now.  He had very similar features, the rugged jawline, and strong nose, but his
hair was brown and his eyes were green.  Now Cordelia Winters, she was a very
beautiful woman, thick blonde hair, always done up to perfection, and pale blue eyes. 
She was never tanned, her skin was porcelain white.  I always wondered where Mr.
Blake got those deep brown eyes and thick black hair.  I asked once, and Mrs. Winters
said it was a throw back to some Indian blood way back on Mr. Winters’ mother’s side of
the family.”
	While Mable talked, Joey couldn’t help but picture the dark figure of Blake
Winters.  Deep chocolate eyes staring out from a face of carved masculinity, and a thick
shock of almost black hair.  Combined with the deep tan he had from years spent in the
sun, and she had to admit that, visually, he presented an impressive image from where
the average woman sat.  It was his personality that needed work, she reminded herself,
and before she realised she was talking out loud her next words were out.
	“I wonder which side he got his bad temper from?”
	Mable laughed. “Well, that would be from Cordelia Winters herself,” she said. 
“She had a streak in her for sure.  Irish blood they say, and the temper to go with it.  She
was always full of praise for the staff when everything went her way , but if she didn’t like
something we did -- oh, watch out! She had more than one maid fired over the years for
things like using the wrong bed linen on the wrong day.”  Mable shook her head.  “I
learned to watch myself close around here when Mrs. Winters was in charge.”
	Joey looked at her questioningly. “But you and Tilly have worked here for years.”
	“Aye, but I saw many a young girl sent packing. Mrs. Winters didn’t like single
staff much. Tilly and me, we had our husbands to save us.”  She grinned. “See, our men
were ranch help, and Mrs. Winters had no say over the ranch workers.  As long as our
husbands had their jobs, so did we.  Now that’s not to say we didn’t hear about it if we
didn’t do exactly what she wanted, but we never got the boot like those other poor girls.”
	Tilly wandered into the room at that point and frowned at the cook. “Don’t you go
bad mouthing Mrs. Winters, now Mable,” she said, glancing cautiously at Joey.
	Mable snorted. “Well, I didn’t care for the woman, and you know it as well as I do,
but I kept my peace while she was here, you know how it was.”
	Tilly shot a glance toward Joey and frowned.  “We don’t want bad things said
about Mrs. Winters in Miss. Joey’s book, now do we Mable.  And just who do you think
she would say talked about her that way when she read it?”
	“Oh Tilly, I would never say anything bad about people.  I’m here to write Blake’s
life story but not to bad mouth anyone, please believe me.  But I do need the truth.  I
don’t believe in writing anything that is not true.”
	Tilly looked at her silently for a long time before she spoke again. “I don’t have
nothing against you, Miss Joey, I just don’t go for not talk about the Missus.  It don’t
have no bearing on Mr. Blake’s book.”
	Joey admired the loyalty of the old woman, even though it seemed obvious she
shared Mable’s views of Cordelia Winters.  However, she had a job to do, and the family
background did have a bearing on the book.  “Tilly, it’s true, I will need to know certain
facts to put into the book about Blake, but I don’t plan it to be just page after page of
statistics, who would want to read that? We’re talking about a life story, not a sports
career.  I want a sense of the person he really is to come through my words.  Now, I
don’t intend to be unflattering about anyone, but what his parents were like does actually
have some bearing.  You have to understand, before I write the first word I have to have
a feel for the man I’m writing about.  Part of who he is comes from who his parents were
-- how they lived, what they were like, what they liked and didn’t like.  All of that makes a
person who they are, and I’ll need to know that sort of thing before I can really
understand the man who is Blake Winters.  I won’t write a single word if I don’t feel
comfortable that I understand the substance that makes the man.   After that, then I’ll
start collecting history.  You see, life gives each of us events to deal with, and how we
handle them depends on what we’re made of, inside, where it counts.  That is moulded
by our past, and the pasts of those who influence our lives.”
	“Take the charity for example.  I don’t believe for one minute that Blake just woke
up one morning and said what shall I do today? I think I’ll have homefries and bacon for
breakfast, and then I’ll sponsor a charity for children.  There had to have been a driving
force behind his decision, a lot of thought, and a lot of feeling put into it.  And that has to
have come from who he is and why.  The way I understand it, the charity is a big reason
this book is being written in the first place, and my job is to explain that man.  there might
be some people out there who would say Blake Winters just donates to charity so he
can get a big tax deduction.  From what I’ve read about him so far, I don’t believe that.  If
that was all it was, he’d just sign over a cheque and leave it at that, he wouldn’t bother
with all the personal commitment he puts into it.”  She paused, and looked at the other
women thoughtfully.  She was actually amazed that she was saying these things about a
man she didn’t even like very much, but she was certain every bit of it was true.  “And I
haven’t learned anything yet!”  she finished.
	Mable sat in her chair, rocking with a proud smile on her face, nodding, and Tilly
was looking rather surprised.   But when she opened her mouth to speak, the words
Joey heard did not come from Tilly -- they came from behind Joey.
	“Maybe it’s time you started learning then.”
	Blake’s voice startled them, and Joey spun around to find him standing in the
doorway.  His voice had not been harsh, but rather soft and thoughtful -- a tone Joey
had never heard him use since she had met him.  And now, as he studied her, she
found herself blushing under his gaze.   He seemed to be looking at her as if he were
seeing her through different eyes, and Joey shifted slightly in her chair, uncomfortable
under his scrutiny.
	“I’m sorry Blake, I was just getting to know the staff a little better.  They haven’t
said anything they shouldn’t have,” she assured him, hopeful Mable and Tilly weren’t
going to be in any trouble because of her.
	“Don’t be silly,” he said, and she thought she actually saw a hint of a smile at
least at one corner of his mouth.  “You’re just doing your job.  I haven’t been very easy
to learn about since you arrived.  If you’re going to write this biography then I suppose
you will need to know who you are writing about.  It only makes sense.”  He paused, as if
the offer was difficult for him to make, then with a sigh, he continued.
	“I usually eat breakfast at six thirty then go out to the barns with the men.  Meet
me at the stables at nine.  I’ll show you around the ranch.”  Without another word, he
nodded to them, turned and was gone.
	“Now there you go, Miss Joey.” Mable said with a smile. “You’ll get to know out
Mr. Blake soon enough.”