Courting Kate (33 page)

“Do you always put dead men in your bed?”
 

“You weren’t dead.”
 

“Well, at least that’s one thing we agree on.” He sauntered toward her. “Darlin’, I’m very much alive.”

“You won’t be if you come any closer,” she warned, wrapping her fingers around the handle of a large cast-iron skillet.
 

“Now, is that any way to talk to your intended, darlin’?”

“Stop calling me ‘darlin’.’ And you aren’t my intended. You aren’t my anything.”

“That isn’t what the ladies think.” He wondered how far he could bait her before she threw the frying pan. Since the thing weighed almost half as much as she did, he decided he was safe. “They think we already celebrated the honeymoon.”

“You...” She tried to hoist the skillet—and dropped it on the floor.
 

“Be a shame to disappoint them.” He moved closer.

She retreated until her back was against the wall. “Don’t!”

“What’s the matter, honey?”

She shoved at him. “You’re what’s the matter. You get up out of my bed and come in here looking like—like that. Why couldn’t you stay under the covers? Why didn’t you go back to sleep?”

“I wasn’t sleepy. Besides, I missed you,” he said, telling her that he knew she had been sharing the bed with him. “How did I get in your bed, anyhow?” he asked, pretending innocence.

She glared at him, but didn’t answer.
 

“Since I don’t remember getting there on my own, I guess you must have put me there.”

“I did—not.” She frowned. “Not on purpose.”
 

“Then how did I get there?” he asked, stroking the base of her throat with his thumb.
 

“You were asleep. And...” She slapped at his hand. “Quit that. I can’t think.”

Placing one arm on either side of her, he nuzzled her cheek, then nibbled at her ear. “Go on.”

“I, uh,...” She shook her head. “What was I trying to say?”

He chuckled.
 

“Stop. How do you expect me to concentrate with you doing
that?”
She twisted her head away from his tongue, which only gave him more access to her neck.
 

He kissed her earlobe, and the soft spot where the nape met her shoulder, then trailed his tongue down to the base of her throat and tasted the flutter of her pulse. “Hmm, so sweet.” He kissed the sensitive hollow, then deftly undid the remaining buttons.
 

“Tanner, stop it right... Oh.”
 

He covered her mouth with his, swallowing any protest she might have made. His roaming hand slid inside her chemise and curved around her swelling breast. His own heat rising, he felt the rosy-crested tip thrust against his palm.
 

She moaned and arched against him.
 

Just when things were really beginning to get interesting, an annoying drumming sound caught his attention. “Now what?” He raised his head and listened.
 

Somebody was pounding on Kate’s door.

The front curtains were drawn so the visitor couldn’t see inside, but the latch wasn’t locked. Whoever it was could enter at any time.

“Honey?” He looked down at Kate, who appeared about to swoon. Her lips were pink and swollen, her eyes hidden by long, silky lashes. Her creamy skin was reddened by his kisses. Not counting the fact that she was half undressed. He had caused her enough problems. He couldn’t let anybody else see her like that.

He scooped her into his arms and strode across the floor. He shoved the partition aside and lay her on the bed. Her glossy hair streamed back over the pillow. Wishing whoever was at the door would give up and go away, he gazed at her for a moment.

Torn between wanting to join her and a desire to protect her, he swallowed and covered her with the quilt. Then he left the bedroom, pulling the curtain shut behind him.

The coffeepot steamed, hissed, then boiled over, filling the air with an acrid stench.
 

He snatched the kettle from the fire, burning his hand in the process.

The pounding came again, insistent, demanding, telling him that whoever was outside wasn’t about to go away. “Kate, are you in there?” a gruff voice called.

Tanner couldn’t answer the door barefooted and half dressed. Determined not to shame Kate more than he already had, he snagged one boot, then took the other one away from the dog. Fluffy seemed content for the moment with the chunk he’d torn off.
 

Tanner stuffed his feet inside the boots, then hastily buttoned his shirt and stuffed his tails into his pants. Running a hand through his hair to smooth it, he went to answer the door. Bob Rutledge, the foreman of the Lucky Strike mine, stood on the other side.
 

“Tanner Blaine! What are you doing here?” The ruddy-faced man shifted to one side and tried to peer into the room.
 

Tanner moved with him, blocking his view. “What do you want?”

“Where’s Miss Deveraux?” the man demanded angrily. “We were supposed to have supper this evening.”

Tanner took note of the man’s broadcloth suit, his boiled shirt and string tie. “Yeah, I wondered why you were so duded up,” he said, feeling scruffy as a stray dog by comparison. The only thing that soothed his ego was the fact that he was inside the house with Kate, while the miner was left outside, standing on the porch.
 

“My
fiancée
is indisposed,” Tanner answered smugly.

“Your fiancée?” Rutledge’s eyes narrowed. “Since when?”

“It became official earlier today.”

“I don’t believe it.” The man stepped up to the threshold as if to force his entry. “She would have said something.”

Tanner didn’t move.
 

“I want Miss Deveraux to tell me herself,” the miner insisted.
 

Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “The future
Mrs. Blaine
isn’t feeling well. She has a headache. I won’t allow her to be disturbed.” He took a step forward, forcing the other man to retreat down the step.

Blustering, Rutledge straightened his suit and glared. “What are you doing in town, anyhow? You’re supposed to be cutting timber.”

“I told you. I was busy getting engaged.” Tanner smiled into the man’s almost purple face, then he closed—and locked the door.

“You’d better have that timber ready. If you don’t...”

More worried about Kate than the foreman’s threats, Tanner hurried across the floor and into the bedroom.

When he approached the bed, Kate stared up at him with wide violet eyes. “Who were you talking to?”

“Nobody special. I sent him away.”

She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. The movement of her shoulders told him she was crying.
 

He sat down on the bed and gathered her into his arms. “It will be all right, honey. I’ll take care of everything.”

She gave a strangled gasp and raised her head, the look on her face incredulous. Even with her hair tangled and her eyes red, she was the most tempting sight he had ever seen.

“If you take care of anything else, I’ll kill you,” she hissed. “You’ve ruined my reputation. By now those good ladies will be discussing my wild carryings-on over every tea table in town. No telling what whoever that was at the door thinks. Thanks to you, I’ll be scorned, mocked. Even if we were to wed,” she added frowning, “I’d never be able to face anyone in Jacksonville again.”

“Everything will be fine after we get married. You’ll see.” He trailed a finger down her cheek and brushed away a teardrop. “Besides, we wouldn’t be the first couple in town to get the cart before the horse.” He absently twisted a long, silky curl around his finger. “I’ll admit I would have preferred to have waited a

bit to get married.”

“Waited a bit?” She snatched her hair from his grasp. “You can wait until perdition. I have no intention of marrying you.”

He frowned. “I meant, I do have to finish cutting that timber first. After today I don’t think Tom Fuller will allow any more excuses.” He rubbed his chin. “I should be done with that by the end of April. We could get married the first of May?” He glanced at her, waiting for her decision. “Unless you’d prefer June.”

“Oh, there’s no talking to you because you apparently haven’t heard a word I’ve said.” She planted both palms against his chest and pushed.
 

He landed on the floor. He gazed up in surprise. “What did you do that for?”

She slid from the bed and stood, hands on her hips. “Now, do I have your attention?”

He focused on the area where she was about to spill out of her dress. “You sure do, darlin’.”

Noting his distraction, she glanced down and gasped. “You—you scoundrel!” She jerked her dress front together.
 

He chuckled. “It’s not like I’m seeing something I haven’t seen before.” He raised a brow. “Remember that day in the meadow?”

“You would remind me of that.” She turned away and buttoned her dress.
 

Tanner got to his feet and came up behind her. He took her in his arms. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She broke free of his embrace and moved away. “Haven’t you got something else to do—in California, maybe?”

He cupped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “I do have a few things to take care of. But I’ll be back.”

“It won’t do you any good,” she said firmly. “The door will be locked.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shot her a predatory grin. “I’ll be back, Kate,” he promised. “Don’t expect a little thing like a locked door to keep me out.”

Fluffy whined and followed along behind him.
 

“Want to go with me?”

The dog wagged his tail.
 

Kate might lock him out, but she’d never leave her dog outside. Tanner opened the door, allowing the dog to escape. “Me and Fluffy will see you in a bit.”
 

“No! Fluffy, you come back here,” she yelled, from the threshold.

Ignoring her, the dog quickened his pace and trotted alongside Tanner.
 

He reached down and stroked the mutt’s massive head. “Fella, I think you might come in real handy tonight.”
 

While Fluffy raced around doing his business, Tanner checked on his horse and hobbled him in a grove of trees closer to Kate’s, so that the gelding would be nearby when he left later that night.

Then, hoping he might find a dress to replace the one Kate had ruined, Tanner stopped by Lottie Martin’s dressmaker shop. He figured he owed Kate that, since it was his fault her frock had gotten ripped.
 

Lottie had one that would suit Kate to perfection: it was a deep sapphire blue with lace trim. The blond who had ordered it claimed the dress was too dark for her fair skin. Glad to get the garment off her hands, Lottie told Tanner she would sell it to him for a fraction of its original cost.

When Lottie added that she would settle for firewood instead of hard coin, Tanner was quick to accept the deal. The dressmaker promised she would alter it to fit Kate and deliver it to her the next day.

Tanner whistled for the dog and headed back toward the pie shop.
 

“Blaine, I need to have a word with you,” a man called from across the street.

Wondering who could be wanting him, Tanner turned and recognized the speaker as Thomas Fuller, owner of the Lucky Strike mine. Fuller left the group of men he was with and strode toward him.

“Hello, Tom,” Tanner said. They shook hands and exchanged small talk. And even though Fuller’s manner seemed friendly enough, the chill in his eyes told Tanner that he was not as congenial as he seemed. Apparently Rutledge had wasted no time in getting to his boss. Tanner waited for the man to speak his piece.
 

“Come on over to the hotel bar and join me in a drink, Fuller insisted. “These town meetings always leave me dry as a bullfrog in a drought.”
 

Tanner shot a look toward Kate’s, knowing she would be there waiting. He also knew their future might depend on his answer. “All right,” he said, hoping that after a few drinks he could persuade the man to give him an extension on the timber contract.

They crossed the street and entered the lobby of the United States Hotel.

Tanner remembered the last time he’d been there, the day he’d met Kate, and how determined he’d been that she wouldn’t disrupt his life. Now she was as much a part of him as the air he breathed, even though she didn’t yet see it that way.
 

Not wanting to keep the mine owner waiting, Tanner quickened his step and followed Tom into the bar.
 

Fuller chose a damask-covered table in the corner where they could talk without being disturbed.
 

Tanner, more familiar with the rowdy atmosphere of the local saloons, found the place too elegant for his taste. Even Horne’s new theater wasn’t half so fine. He had the feeling that a man drinking at the United States bar should be clean-shaven and wearing a suit.