Loving Katherine (21 page)

“Roan?” It was a trembling whisper.

“Yeah, I’ve got you, Kate. You’re all right.”

“I’m telling you, I did not faint.” Steam rising around her, Katherine scrunched down into the bathtub Roan had helped drag into their stateroom.

His eyes lit with amusement. If Katherine could argue, she was well on her way to recovery. “Well, honey, if I’d a known that, I wouldn’t have gotten all wet, luggin’ you in here.”

She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “I could have walked. I just got a little dizzy for a minute.” She bent her head, scooping the trailing length of her hair into one hand and swishing it through the hot water. “Hand me that soap, would you, please?”

Stripped to the waist, Roan knelt by the tub. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll wash it for you.”

Her eyes closed and she sighed with anticipation. “Reckon I could handle that. Besides, you owe me, Devereaux.”

His brow rose as he bent to the task he’d assumed, his big hands making suds in her dark hair. “How do you figure that?” Gentle against her scalp, he rubbed the residue of the river from the long strands.

She hid her smile, burying her face against her knees. “I could have drowned, and all you cared about was the horses. You left it to strangers to pull me out of the water.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head up, leaning to breathe his words against her mouth. “If I’d let anything happen to those babies of yours, I’d never have
heard the end of it, lady. Anyway, I asked you if you were okay.”

She blinked at him, her eyes tearing from the soap.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t you dare cry, Katherine, you hear me?”

“I’m not! You’ve got soap in my eyes.”

He frowned at her, one hand lifting the cloth to splash clear water across her forehead. “Mad at me, Kate?”

She took the cloth from him and squeezed it out, washing her face quickly, then holding the cloth to her burning eyes. His hands turned gentle as he rubbed her hair, waiting for her to speak.

“Duck your head, so I can rinse the soap out,” he told her after a few moments. She complied, lowering herself to swish her hair in the water. “You all clean yet?” He scanned the long locks with a critical eye.

She nodded, her flesh warming nicely from the hot water.

“Then raise up here, and I’ll rinse your hair with this bucket.” He grasped her elbow and lifted her. She knelt obligingly and he poured the warm stream through her hair. Her fingers working the soap from the long strands, she sighed her pleasure, relishing the slow drizzle of warm water over her head and shoulders.

He leaned close, and his warm breath brought chills to her skin as he repeated his question. “You mad at me, Kate?” It was a silky whisper, meant to entice.

Her head turned, and her look was pained, as though she hurt for him. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did.” His mouth tightened and his eyes were dark and hooded. “It wasn’t the horses, Kate. We coulda lived without them. But I don’t want to ever be as scared as I was when I saw that gun in your back. He could have killed you, honey. And I don’t want to even think about life without you.”

Her arms rose to encircle his neck and she drew him closer, her mouth seeking his. “I was never mad, Roan. I knew you wouldn’t let me drown. Now, if you’d let anything happen to my horses, I’d have been after your hide.” The words were whispered against his lips, and she laughed as he grunted his disbelief.

His hands grasped her waist, and he lifted her to her feet and over the side of the tub to stand before him. Still kneeling, he wrapped her in the towel and dried her with long, steady strokes. His hands were tender, gentle against her skin, his eyes feasting on the feminine flesh he cared for with a lavish touch. He patted carefully at her breasts, his eyes narrowing on the reddened area that had known the touch of Sloan’s hand.

His voice was guttural, anger roughening the words he spoke. “I could kill him again for hurting you. I’m sorry, Katherine. I didn’t look out for you the way I should’ve.”

Her smile was warm, teasing and welcome to his anguished gaze. “I like having you on your knees, Devereaux,” she told him, her whisper husky and inviting. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his back and she clasped him to her, bending to press her cheek against the top of his head. “I’m chilled again. Do you think you could get me warm?”

It was an invitation he would have been a fool to resist. And no one had ever called Roan Devereaux a fool.

R
iding astride in a dress was not her first choice, but Katherine was determined not to meet her husband’s family clothed in a pair of britches and a boy’s flannel shirt. She fretted, tugging the fabric down until only her ankles showed, thankful for the fullness of the skirt. Lifting her right hand, she patted her hair once more, tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

“You look fine.” From beside her, Roan’s reassuring words were small comfort.

“I’d feel better if we’d gotten here after dark. Getting off this horse is going to expose a whole lot of me,” she grumbled.

“Ridin’ up to a dark house isn’t too healthy, honey. You don’t want a shotgun pointin’ our way, do you?”

She slanted a look in his direction. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

He refused to swallow the bait, and his shrug was genial. “Just up ahead, around that bend in the road, we should be able to see the house.”

Katherine stood in her stirrups and leaned forward. Her eyes glistened a bit as she considered what this confrontation would mean to the man she’d married. Pray God they would welcome him with open arms. Her head bowed for a second as the petition wended its way through her mind.

A dog barked directly ahead, and from farther away, another joined it. Katherine’s heart beat faster as they rounded the bend in the narrow road. Before her was a plantation house, in need of repair, but still standing and showing no outward sign of damage. The front door opened and a man stepped out onto the long porch, hesitating as he spotted the approaching riders. Then, one hand lifted to shade his eyes, he moved closer to the steps.

His piercing gaze rested on Roan, and as if he considered the tall, silent man to be of little consequence, he looked at the woman beside him. Dark beneath bushy eyebrows, his eyes took Katherine’s measure, and his head nodded in an almost imperceptible movement. Looking beyond her, he assessed the string of horses in her wake. Dismissing the packhorse with a derisive glance, he took stock of the yearlings, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the black mare bringing up the end of the string.

Roan was immobile in his saddle, back straight, reins held in an easy grip. A sardonic smile twisted his mouth as he noted the older man’s inability to hide his interest in Katherine’s horses. LeRoy Devereaux had never been able to resist a beautiful filly.

“If you’re interested in sellin’ those animals, I just might be interested in the black filly.” Drawled in the fashion of a Louisiana plantation owner, the words were directed at Roan. LeRoy Devereaux had just extended a truce of sorts.

Roan shook his head. “Sorry about that. The horses aren’t mine to sell. They belong to my wife.”

The dark eyes narrowed and rested once more on Katherine. “You married to him?”

She glanced at Roan, rigid and ungiving as he waited beside her. Her gaze returned once more to the man facing her. “My name is Katherine Devereaux. The horses are mine. But they’re not for sale.”

LeRoy’s shoulders lifted in an expressive movement. “We’ll see. Maybe I can change your mind.”

“Maybe you’re in for a surprise,” Roan offered. “Kate’s not one to give up what belongs to her. Hell, she wouldn’t let ‘em out of her sight all the way from Illinois.”

“You’ve had a long ride. Were you planning on coming in?”

“Yeah, I reckon we could do that,” Roan allowed. Dismounting with an ease Katherine envied, he untied the lead rope from his saddle horn and faced his father once more. “You got any hands livin’ here?”

“Yep. In fact, Jethro is headin’ this way right now. Maybe you’d let him take those horses and put them up.”

Roan’s eyes warmed as he watched the husky, dark-skinned man approaching from the barn. Snatching his shapeless hat from his head, he headed directly for the tall visitor.

“I knew that was you, Mr. Roan. When I saw you a’sittin’ on that horse, I knew.” His grin was wide, and his hand was extended.

Roan accepted it with pleasure. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d have headed out, after the war and all.”

Jethro cast a quick look at the man on the porch. “Yore pa and me come to an agreement,” he said in a low, rumbling tone.

“Can you put those horses up in the stable, Jethro?” LeRoy’s voice boomed the query.

“Yassah, I sure can.” Jethro nodded his head quickly and took the lead rope from Roan. “Want your mares taken care of, too?” His words were directed at Roan, but his eyes were on the chestnut animal Katherine rode. “Sure is a pretty lady,” he said respectfully.

“The mare or my wife?” Roan’s voice was amused.

Jethro looked at him askance. “I wouldn’t mean no disrespect to your woman, Mr. Roan. You know better’n that.” His grin reappeared quickly, and his voice lowered. “They’s both mighty good-lookin’, though “

Roan stepped to Katherine’s side, and his hands lifted her from the saddle, tight about her waist as he swept her from the horse. Holding her before him, he clasped her firmly, sensing the weariness she was trying to hide.

“You all right, Kate?” She was wrinkled a bit around the edges, but she stood erect now, and unless he missed his guess, she was good for whatever came next.

Katherine’s hands brushed at her skirts and she nodded at Roan. “I’m fine. I could do with a drink of water, though.”

LeRoy watched from the veranda, and his eyes were piercing in their scrutiny. “I could offer you some tea, ma’am.”

Katherine inclined her head in a graceful gesture, almost that of a queen accepting her just due. “That would be fine.” Now where the hell had she learned that sort of thing? Roan wondered, watching with barely concealed amazement as his wife approached the wide step leading to the verandah. His father met her there and extended a hand. That Katherine’s own fingers were callused, her flesh tanned to a golden brown and her hair beginning to escape its confinement appeared to matter not at all to the old man.

He led her onto the porch and toward the door, Roan following. Behind him Roan heard Jethro’s low chuckle and cast him a look of inquiry.

“Sure am glad you’re home, Mr Roan,” the dark man said, his grin wide as he led the horses away.

Roan stepped onto the wide boards of the covered veranda and shook his head. Kate seemed to be in control here, and he’d be damned if he was going to break up her party. Cool as a cucumber she was, nodding and smiling at his father like she owned the place.

“You comin’, Roan?” LeRoy held the screened door open for Katherine and looked back at his son.

From within the house a woman’s voice called out. Then the slender form of his mother filled the doorway, and she
spoke again. “Well, well! Valderone! I declare, I thought I heard your daddy sayin’ your name.”

Roan took several quick steps and held out his hands. His mother hesitated only a moment, then reached out and clasped his fingers, her pale skin a contrast to his tanned flesh.

“We’d about given up hearin’ from you again,” she said. Her eyes swept his tall form, hesitating for a moment on his leg before they rose once more to meet his gaze.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.” It was a blunt statement.

Her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. “You’re heir to River Bend, Valderone. You’ve made some poor choices, to my way of thinkin’, but that won’t keep you from bein’ your father’s son. This is your home.”

Roan’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t get the feelin’ you were gonna welcome me with open arms, Mama. My last letter from you wasn’t too lovin’. Seemed like a good idea to make myself scarce around here.”

Her shrug was deliberate. “Well, you’re here now. Might as well come on in and we’ll—”

“Mama, I’ve brought my wife to meet you.”

Letitia Devereaux’s gaze moved to where Katherine stood, then her eyes sought those of her son once more. “You’re married?”

“This is my wife, Katherine.” He stepped back to her side, his arm sliding behind her, his palm warm against her back, and Katherine was suddenly grateful for the unspoken message it implied.

She smiled and inclined her head. “Mrs. Devereaux. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Letitia’s brow furrowed. “You’re from up north?”

“She’s a Yankee, Mama.” It was plain and simple. If they couldn’t accept Kate right off the bat, he’d head out before they stepped foot inside the house.

Letitia’s smile was strained, but she buoyed it with a restrained wave of welcome, leading the way through the doorway into the room beyond. “Y’all come on in now. I’ll get Susanna to bring some tea.”

“A Yankee bride, eh?” LeRoy shook his head. “Guess you can’t help what you are. Come along, Miss Katherine. Tell me how you met my son.”

“She threatened me with a shotgun,” Roan said bluntly.

Katherine had the grace to blush at his words. It was hard enough playing the part of a lady without Roan making things difficult. “I didn’t know who he was. He rode onto my place and I—”

“She threatened to shoot me.” Roan’s accusation was mildly spoken as he lowered himself to sit on a chair before a wide fireplace.

LeRoy waved a hand at him in dismissal. “Let her tell it. Why don’t you go on out and help your mama find some refreshments for your wife.”

Letitia came through the doorway. “Susanna’s comin’ directly. Sit still.” She took her place in a matching chair and folded her hands in her lap.

“Katherine was just tellin’ me how she met Roan, Mother.” LeRoy ushered Katherine to a long sofa and urged her to sit down.

“Roan knew my father during the war. In fact, he saved my father’s life,” Katherine said. “Later on, when Roan was wounded, my father took him to a hospital in Philadelphia. They lost track of each other after that. A couple of months ago, Roan decided to look Charlie up, and found me instead. I was alone. Seemed like a good idea to go to the door with my shotgun.”

“Is your father well?” Letitia asked politely.

“He died early this year,” Roan put in quickly. “Kate’s been on her own a good while.”

“Well, she’s got you now,” LeRoy said, his white hair glistening in the sunlight that entered the windows.

Kate sent a grateful look in his direction, meeting his dark gaze and scanning the stern features. “He favors you, Mr. Devereaux. He has your nose and eyes. You wear the same look.”

“Managed to get my temper, too,” LeRoy said gruffly. “Always goin’ off half-cocked and makin’ rash decisions.”

Katherine smiled at the pronouncement. “Maybe he’s grown up a little in the past few years then. I haven’t seen much trace of bad temper, anyway.”

“He couldn’t have considered too long and hard about marryin’ you, Miss Katherine,” the older man said.

Roan nodded agreeably. “Probably the smartest move I ever made, to tell the truth.”

Katherine blushed and concentrated on the floor, certain that all eyes in the room were focused on her. “He liked my horses.”

“So did Evan Gardner, but you didn’t marry him,” Roan offered. “Not that I’m complainin’, mind you.”

“Well, you’re welcome here,” LeRoy said from his end of the sofa, his eyes taking on a glow of welcome as he watched Katherine. He leaned closer and spoke in an undertone. “Who’s this Gardner fella?”

Katherine cast Roan a look that should have quelled his mischief. “Just a man from the town near my farm.”

“Kate decided she didn’t like him near as well as she did me,” Roan said mildly. “And I figured she’d be welcome at River Bend as soon as you caught a glimpse of her string of yearlings.”

LeRoy glared at his son. “I do admire a nice-lookin’ filly, and I don’t mind sayin’ so. But Miss Katherine’s got a welcome of her own here. Isn’t that right, Mother?”

Letitia’s smile was delicate, her eyes cool as she surveyed her son’s wife. Then her gaze went toward the wide archway and she welcomed the dark-skinned woman who carried a tray into their midst.

“Bring it here, Susanna. We’ll let Katherine pour the tea.” Her slender hand waved at the table sitting before the long sofa.

“Sure hope you got somethin’ stronger than hot tea for Roan and me,” LeRoy said abruptly.

Susanna nodded quickly. “Brought you in a tall glass of buttermilk.”

His sigh was deep and his head shook sadly as LeRoy looked at his son. “Not much to offer. Not like the old days, is it?”

Roan shrugged. “I’ve got nothing against buttermilk, Pa.” Rising, he walked to where Katherine sat and took the seat next to her. “I’ll give you a hand with this, Kate “ He lifted the napkin covering a plate and sighed deeply. “Looks like Susanna still bakes good bread, Mama. And there’s jam tarts, too. I expect we’ll manage to tide over till dinnertime.”

The bedroom door had barely closed behind them. Katherine giggled, smothering her laughter with her hand, and sat on the edge of the bed. The feather tick gave way beneath her weight and she closed her eyes in pure enjoyment, flopping back to lose herself in the cushioning expanse. Another giggle escaped her and she gazed at Roan, her eyes crinkling with laughter.

“What’s so blamed funny?” Busily stripping off the dusty shirt he wore, he paused to glare in her direction.

“Valderone? Valderone?” She giggled again, raising her hands to capture the sound of laughter.

His grin was sheepish. “My mama was fond of French names when we were born. My brother’s named Gaeton and my sister is Yvonne. Guess she thought my daddy’s ancestors needed to be remembered some way or another.”

“Where are they? Your brother and sister?” Katherine’s face was suddenly sober. Sitting up, she rose from the bed
and presented her back to Roan. His fingers moved to the buttons holding her dress closed and undid them quickly.

“Jethro told me Yvonne left here with a Yankee colonel. He’d made this his headquarters and took a shine to her. Guess that’s why it’s still in good shape. Jethro said most of the other places between here and the river are pretty bad off.”

“She married a Yankee?” Katherine’s tone was unbelieving. “No wonder your mother wasn’t too happy about me. She’s already got one Northerner in the family.”

Roan turned Katherine to face him and his hands slid down her back, warm through the layers of fabric she wore. “Mama’s gonna have to get used to the idea, I reckon. I’m assumin’ Yvonne married the colonel. Jethro didn’t say “