Here to Stay (3 page)

How did these guys get in? How long had they
been here? A good while from the looks of things, she decided in
answer to her own question.

“Excuse me,” Paige announced. All three men
stopped painting and turned to look at her. “How did you get in
this house?”

“We’re the painters,” the shortest of the
three told her.

Duh
. “How did you get in?” she
repeated.

“We have a key,” the man she had instantly
dubbed Shortie replied and patted his pocket. “We were scheduled to
start at seven sharp this morning,” he added, as if she should know
this information without asking.

Paige just nodded. Who else had Robert given
a key to? Another small town custom, she presumed. She suppressed a
yawn and considered that, discounting the houseful of strangers,
waking up without legal work hanging over her head was very nice.
She had even slept a little late this morning for the first time in
a long time. It felt good to pamper herself for a change.

Coffee flitted through her mind, but she
banished the temptation. No stress and no caffeine. “I’ll be at the
barn if you need me for anything,” she called as she headed for the
front door.

She bounded off the porch into the bright
morning. She lifted her face to the sun’s kiss and reveled in the
sensation of warmth. An unexpected shiver that rattled her inside
and out shook Paige as her thoughts wandered to her midnight
visitor. Dawn had been creeping through the windows before she had
managed to fall back to sleep. She’d had good reason for sleeping
so late this morning. Nathan Blackrope had ruined what should have
been a restful night. Of course, worries about the talk with him
that she could no longer put off had wreaked havoc well before he
had made his personal appearance.

Heat flowed through her, warming her against
the morning’s cool breeze, when she recalled Nathan’s ruthless
kiss. There would not be a repeat performance of last night’s
fiasco. Getting involved with him again wasn’t on her agenda. In
fact, it held the number one spot on her list of things she never
wanted to do again. No matter how her involuntary reflexes tried to
prove otherwise, she wanted no part of his body touching hers. Even
if just looking at him did make her burn, she wouldn’t allow it. No
way, no how.

The bond she and Nathan had shared still held
a little too firmly to suit her. But she had learned her lesson
with him the hard way. He didn’t care about her, probably never
had. Not really anyway. And when all her cards were on the table,
any lingering feelings he might harbor for her would vanish. He
wouldn’t take it well. Of that she felt certain. That was the very
reason she had no intention of telling him anything until she was
sure. Sure of what, she didn’t exactly know. Paige trusted her
instincts. Instinct would tell her when the time was right. With
that reiteration, she set out in the direction of the barn.

The sweet pungent scent of hay and horses
greeted her as she entered the huge barn. She’d loved this barn as
a child. She glided her hand across the worn-smooth top of one
stall. They had used the stall railings for balance beams. The loft
had been their hideout or playhouse, depending on Nathan’s mood.
Nathan
. Paige kicked a clod across the floor. Didn’t she
have one single memory on this ranch that didn’t include him?
Probably not.

“Hello, Windborne.” Paige stroked the neck of
her uncle’s favorite mare. “Whoa, girl. You’re about ready to pop.”
She rubbed her hand over the horse’s distended belly. So this was
the reason for Nathan’s visit last night. Windborne wasn’t just any
old hunk of horse flesh. Robert talked about her like they were
related by blood.

Funny, Paige thought, that he hadn’t
mentioned Windborne’s pregnancy to her. Robert’s omission made her
feel just a bit left out, especially since Nathan knew. Robert
usually shared everything with her. She’d be sure to ask him about
it the next time he called. And call he would. Though his heart was
in Vegas, at least part of his thoughts were still on the ranch. It
occurred to Paige then that Robert probably hadn’t wanted to bring
up the subject of bearing offspring. Everyone was so careful not to
talk about it.

“Okay, girls.” Paige glanced at the yearlings
in the long box stall opposite the mares. “And boys,” she amended
quickly. “How about some oats? Or whatever James is feeding you
these days.”

Paige checked the chart hanging next to the
feed room door and verified the kind and amount to feed the
different animals.

The only thing she had to do for the
yearlings was turn them out. Easy enough, she decided as she opened
the side gate.

“Out you go.” The horses trotted through the
gate, happy to be free of their confinement. Paige gave the last
colt a pat on the hindquarter and watched the horses gallop across
the large paddock. She’d almost forgotten how beautiful the animals
were. Memories of long rides and Nathan’s capable arms around her
flooded Paige’s mind. She banished the images, closed the gate and
walked back through the large stall.

“Yuck,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose in
disgust at the numerous piles of horse manure that lay among the
shavings. A very vivid memory of mucking out horse stalls came back
to her. “Oh, no. I’d forgotten about that little chore,” she
muttered out loud.

Though she’d never actually done it herself,
Paige had watched it done dozens of times. How tough could it be?
She headed for the tool room and came out pushing a wheelbarrow. A
second trip armed her with a tined manure fork.

Paige performed a couple of practice runs
with the oversized pooper-scooper. She shrugged. “Scoop. Dump. No
big deal.” Anybody could muck out stalls.

~*~

Three hours later Paige rinsed the scoop and
wheelbarrow in the wash rack. Her arms felt like overcooked
spaghetti. She hadn’t worked this hard since—hell, she hadn’t ever
worked this hard. Weak as a kitten, she put the scoop and
wheelbarrow away. It would do her good. She needed to work off some
of the stress that had been building the past couple of weeks.
Ready for a break, she quickly measured oats into two buckets and
hurried from the feed room.

“Okay, ladies, soup’s on.” Paige smiled at
the four-legged mothers-to-be as she sprinkled the oats into the
troughs. Weak from scooping, she dropped the second bucket into
Windborne’s stall. “Sorry, girl,” she said, then opened the gate
and stepped inside. She murmured soothingly to the animal as she
crouched down to retrieve the bucket from between the horse’s
legs.

Paige stood more quickly than se had
intended. The corner of the hay rack snagged her back, wrenching a
yelp from her. Wincing, she let herself out of the stall and
returned the two buckets to the feed room. Flexing her shoulders
against the sting, she decided to go back to the house to get a
look at the damage in a mirror.

The sun was high in the sky now and beating
down a little more fiercely than one would expect for an April day.
Her head spun for an instant, but she shook it off and chastised
herself for skipping breakfast. She should have remembered that
hard work and an empty stomach didn’t go well together. The sweat
she had worked up had glued her T-shirt to her chest. Paige groaned
as she pulled the sticky material from her skin. A shower would be
the next order of business.

“I’ll bet you’re wishing you had taken me up
on my kind offer about now.”

Paige jerked to a stop. The sound of Nathan’s
voice startled her in spite of the fact that she had fully expected
him to show up this morning. He’d always taken responsibility very
seriously. Another reason she knew she had to work this out with
him. She had to tell him everything. But not today. She stared up
at his smirk. Not tomorrow. Her eyes skimmed his black-clad body.
Maybe not even this week. She took in the sight of him sitting
astride his shiny black stallion, and wished he weren’t so
good-looking.

“Actually, you and your offer were the
furthest things from my mind,” she lied.

“Is that right?” He pushed his black Stetson
up from his line of vision to rake her with that dark gaze.

Paige squared her shoulders and ignored the
butterflies that took flight in her stomach. “That’s right.”
Determined to avoid further discussion, she walked around man and
horse and headed toward the house. She was still exhausted, and her
unsteady gait no doubt broadcast that fact loud and clear. When she
was ready to talk to Nathan Blackrope it would be on her terms.

Before she had taken three steps, the squeak
of leather warned Paige that he was dismounting.

“Are you hurt?” Nathan’s strong hand clutched
her right arm from behind, effectively halting her forward
movement.

“I’m fine,” she hissed as she attempted to
free herself. The heat from his palm singed her skin.

“How did you do this?” he asked sharply.

Paige winced when he pulled the fabric away
from her skin and examined more closely the scratch between her
shoulder blades. “On the hay rack in Windborne’s stall. It’s just a
scratch.”

“Scratch?” Nathan swore.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged off his touch and
started across the yard once more. She wasn’t about to let him see
her collapse. She would have to admit her other weaknesses soon
enough. Her head swam again, but she ignored it, forcing one foot
in front of the other.

Without warning, Nathan swept her into his
arms and strode toward the house.

“Put me down! What do you think you’re doing,
Nathan?”

“When did you eat last, Paige?”

“What I do is none of your business!”

He paused to stare down at her. “I’m making
it my business. I’ll bet you still forget to eat.”

Wilted and defeated, she admitted, “I ate
yesterday.”

Another hot curse sprang from his lips. Only
this time in that other language he reverted to whenever he got
really angry or emotional. Paige didn’t know the words, but she
recognized them as his native tongue. She’s heard them before. Too
long ago to remember, she reminded the part of her that longed to
recall.

Nathan burst through the front door and
bounded up the stairs as if he were carrying a feather.

“Put me down!” She squirmed in his arms when
she realized he intended to take her to the bedroom. Anger spurred
her into action. She pummeled his hard chest with her fists.

“Stop it,” he ordered in a low rumble. “I’ll
put you down when I’m good and ready.”

She huffed like an indignant child, but
surrendered to his strength. She closed her eyes and slumped
against him. A bombardment of sensations surged through her, then
sapped the last of her waning energy. A sense of home she refused
to acknowledge settled over her. The clean scent of leather and
sweat assaulted her nostrils.
Stop it!
Stop it!
She
screamed at herself.
These feelings are off limits
.

When he reached her bedroom, the one he knew
she always used, Nathan settled her on her feet once more. She
swayed from the loss of his arms around her. He steadied her.

“I’m going downstairs to make you a sandwich
or something.” His concerned gaze moved restlessly over her face.
“Take yourself a long, hot bath to relax your muscles. You’re going
to be as sore as hell come tomorrow morning from all that
backbreaking work. I’ll patch you up after.”

“I can patch myself up,” she challenged,
lifting her chin defiantly.

“You can’t even reach the spot,” he told her
impatiently. “Now do like I tell you before I do it for you.”

She slammed the door behind him when he left.
She repeated a few of those choice words he liked to use so well
and stared at the closed door for a long moment. Nathan was just as
bullheaded as ever.

The telephone rang as she turned toward the
bathroom. Paige crossed the room and snatched up the receiver. No
doubt it would be Robert calling to check on things again. She
hoped Ginny would appreciate his worrisome nature. “Hello,” she
groused.

“Paige, how are you, my dear?”

Paige smiled. “Silas, it’s good to hear from
you!” Silas Dutton was Robert’s oldest and dearest friend, not to
mention Trinity’s one and only attorney. He was also one of her
favorite people.

“I couldn’t be better, but how are you?”

“I’m fine,” she told him. That had become her
standard response. “God,” she breathed. “It’s been forever.”

A rusty chuckle rumbled in her ear. “I can’t
believe Robert finally persuaded you to come visit for a while. I
know your law practice keeps you very busy.”

Paige pulled the ponytail holder from her
hair and let it fall free. “Robert needed me. It’s not every day a
sixty-three-year-old confirmed bachelor gets married, you
know.”

“I plan to stay confirmed myself,” Silas
resolved. “It did take Ginny ten years to convince Robert, after
all.”

“I’m not so sure that it wasn’t the other way
around, Silas,” Paige argued affectionately.

“Valid point, counselor. I thought perhaps I
could take you out to dinner tonight and do some catching up.”

She padded to the bureau and scrutinized her
sweaty, grimy, and frazzled-looking reflection. She frowned. If her
colleagues could see her now, she’d never live it down. She
stretched her right shoulder and winced. But she hadn’t seen Silas
in years. “That sounds lovely.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“See you then.” It would be nice to see a
friendly face, even if she did feel like hell at the moment. But a
nap this afternoon would change that. She and Silas could talk for
hours about law and politics. And the subject of the Big C would
never have to come up. She shuddered. She didn’t want to think
about that.

Silas brought back the pleasant memory of
cherry-scented pipe tobacco. She could almost smell the sweet
aroma. She smiled as she recalled Silas and Robert sitting around
the card table in the parlor, a cigar or pipe in one hand and poker
cards in the other, the clink of bourbon-filled crystal and hearty
laughter filling the sultry night air.