Reckless Destiny (8 page)

That tripped warning bells in her head.

She had come west to prove she could take care of herself. She wanted to make her own decisions and live life the way she chose. Was she playing with fire here? If she persevered in her quest to see how Kane felt, would she get burned?

“So what is this unpleasant thing you’ve been thinking about?” he asked.

She tipped her head back and looked at the sky as her lips pressed tightly together.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not,” he added.

“No.” She glanced at him then straight ahead. “I think I need to get it off my chest.” She fixed her gaze on Prince’s ears as they flicked back and forth. “I want to apologize to you for the way I behaved that night at Fort Mohave. It was inexcusable.”

“Fort Mohave?” His horse pranced uneasily as Kane reflexively jerked the reins. “I don’t recall that you have anything to be sorry about.”

“I threw myself at you like a foolish schoolgirl.”

“You
were
a schoolgirl.”

“Still, it was immature and unladylike. I’m sorry.”

Kane was surprised at her confession. If she thought she had something to be ashamed of, she was wrong. He had been ill-mannered and just this side of rude, but he had pushed her away for her own good.

He glanced at her now, sitting straight in the saddle, the reins loosely held in her hands. The wind blew the floppy brim of her hat off her forehead, revealing the
smooth skin of her face. Freckles stretched across her cheeks. A thoughtful expression clouded her eyes, and he noticed her shiner was less visible this morning.

In her white cotton blouse and split riding skirt, no one would mistake her for a rich eastern lady. But there was no doubt she was all woman. The scent of lilacs filled his head and once again he had the impression of a lush meadow bursting with pink-purple flowers. A gust of wind pushed the material of her bodice against her, outlining the fullness of her breasts and emphasizing the narrowness of her waist. As she competently controlled her horse, the shape of her slender thighs and calves was evident even through the thickness of her skirt.

He couldn’t get the image of those legs wrapped around his waist out of his mind. This vision had kept him awake into the early morning hours. Even now, his breathing quickened at the sight, sound, and smell of her. He shook his head, trying to push the forbidden images away.

“My own behavior was nothing to be proud of.”

“You were a perfect gentleman.”

There was almost a tinge of regret in her voice.

Cady took a deep breath. “I think what stirred my temper that night two years ago was your comment that someone who couldn’t start a cook fire had no business in the Territory,” she said, quoting his own words.

“I haven’t changed my opinion.”

“I didn’t expect you had, given the fact that you never miss an opportunity to tell me I don’t belong here.”

“I haven’t changed my opinion about that, either. But you’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”

She looked over at him and, in the shadow of her big black hat, her eyes flashed. It was the only evidence of
the hair-trigger temper she’d showed him the previous evening when she’d slammed the door in his face. He’d never met a woman who kept him so off balance.

“Then let’s put the issue to rest once and for all.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“What if I prove to you I
can
start a cook fire and even make supper over it? Will you take back what you said? Will that convince you that I can take care of myself out here?”

“Depends on how tasty the supper is.”

“I didn’t say it has to be good, just that I can make it. If I were cooking in my mother’s kitchen back home, I couldn’t guarantee to satisfy your taste. But I’ll tell you this: You won’t starve.”

He was starving now. He wanted her with a hunger that seemed to get bigger every time he saw her. He was crazy, probably been out in the sun too long, a voice inside him insisted. He silenced it.

“How can I resist?”

“All right, then. How about tonight. Sunday supper? Say, six o’clock?”

This might be the biggest mistake of his life, Kane thought, but he didn’t have it in him to say no.

“I’ll be there.”

Reynolds J. Wexler, Jr., quietly climbed out of his bedroom window and settled the checkerboard more securely under his arm. He glanced to the left and the right to make sure no one saw him leave his room. John Eagle had taught him how to move without being heard. The thought of his former friend made him feel empty inside.

He wished John had never caught that old snake. Maybe if he hadn’t they’d still … shoot, what was the
use of thinking on that? He was just glad John had showed him how to be quiet when he didn’t want no one to hear him. Like now. It wouldn’t be dark for a while yet and he had to be careful to stay to the shadows.

His mother had confined him to his room. But when his father was gone, which was most of the time, she fell asleep soon after supper. She was snorin’ away now. Kane had punished him too but didn’t know what his ma had said about not comin’ out until he could be a civilized gentleman. And Kane wouldn’t care if he did know, R. J. told himself. This was their checkers night. What could be more important than that?

R. J. knew he would be lucky this time. In their weekly Sunday evening checker game, R. J. usually came out the loser. As much as he hated losing, he liked it that Kane didn’t let him win. That made him feel good. If he couldn’t win fair and square, he didn’t want to win at all. But he was feeling lucky tonight. He would beat the pants off the captain for sure this time, he just knew he would.

He turned the corner of the long row of adobe buildings and skidded to a stop. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!”

Kane was standing beneath the ramada, and that old maid schoolmarm was smilin’ up at him all sweet and big-eyed. R. J. backed up and peeked around the corner, keeping himself hidden.

It made R. J. plumb sick to his stomach. He still couldn’t figure why in blue blazes Kane had given up his quarters to that ol’ teacher. Officers didn’t do that for nobody. They always took the best for themselves, otherwise what was the good of outrankin’ someone else?

Didn’t make any sense at all. And why in tarnation was he visiting her? Something terrible crossed his mind and his eyes widened as that empty feeling in his stomach got bigger. Was Kane courtin’ Miss Tanner?
R. J. cautiously leaned around the corner and stared at the captain. Even from this side view, he could tell Kane wasn’t smilin’. Not by a long shot. And he had a funny look on his face like he was mad as all get out.

His sweaty palms caused the checkerboard to slip, and R. J. slid his hand down his wool trousers. Then he settled the game more firmly against his side. He wasn’t sweatin’ because he was nervous after sneakin’ out and all. It was from writin’ all those dang standards she’d given him. Not to mention the blisters he had from choppin’ wood. No wonder he couldn’t even hang on to the gosh-darn board.

Worst of all, he missed Prince somethin’ fierce. He missed racin’ Bart Grimes across the parade ground. He missed the feelin’ he got when he and Prince beat the tar outa everyone. He stuck his head out and peeked carefully around the corner of the building, just in time to see Kane go inside. It appeared he was gonna miss his weekly checkers game, too.

And it was all
her
fault.

R. J. was tempted to tell her to go to blazes, only Kane would wallop him good if he did. The way the captain had looked while she was holding her face, R. J. had been sure he was gonna get whacked for blacking her eye, even though he hadn’t meant to.

He waited for a long time, hoping Kane would come out. But he never did. Didn’t he remember they always played checkers on Sunday night?

Why in tarnation would Kane rather see that ol’ Miss Tanner than play checkers? She must be holding something over his head or Kane wouldn’t be caught dead that close to her.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! Maybe he’s tryin’ to get her to let up on the standards.” R. J. grinned. Yeah, that must be it.

He waited, staying until the sun went down, but Kane didn’t come out. He would’ve watched all night, but he had to go to the necessary. He turned away, shaking his head.

The captain wasn’t like his pa; he always kept his word. He
never
missed a checkers night, unless he was away on patrol. So it had to be that ol’ schoolmarm’s fault. It was just one more in the long list of gripes R. J. had against her. The list was getting longer all the time. He’d pay her back someday, too.

“Just see if I don’t,” he grumbled.

Kane glanced around his former quarters while Cady put his hat on the dresser. Everything looked different, definitely smelled different—better. Feminine articles were scattered around the room. A silver brush and mirror rested on the dresser with ribbons beside them, dresses hung on hooks on the wall to his right, pages from a ladies’ magazine were tacked up on the wall to the left of the fireplace.

This room felt more like a home after a few days of Cady’s presence than it ever had while he’d lived there. In fact, she’d put his hat on the dresser because her beat-up floppy black one was already on the peg by the door where he used to keep his.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” he said, taking a deep breath.

She looked around, then up at him. The smooth skin between her brows puckered slightly. “I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course.”

Her scent was womanly and soft and tempting. He shut his eyes for a second. He couldn’t let his feelings loose. If he did, he’d never be in control again.

He should never have come. If he had the sense the good Lord gave a rock, he’d turn right around and walk out that door.

“I’m glad you approve. I thought pictures would brighten the walls up a bit,” she said. Her shoes scraped on the canvas floor as she walked to the dresser.

He stared at the provocative sway of her full cotton skirts as she moved away from him. His gaze moved to the curve of her back and her hair, twisted up into a braid. He wanted to see it down, loose around her shoulders, tousled as if … Stop, he told himself.

He returned his attention to Cady. Behind her on the dresser, his hat rested between a black velvet ribbon and the stuffed snake. On the left corner was a photograph.

“Who’s in the picture?” he asked.

He moved beside her to see the tintype and recognized her two brothers, Jeff and Jack. The older man and woman he took to be her parents. He studied Cady’s likeness. The unsmiling image didn’t do her justice. It didn’t capture the sparkle that lighted her green eyes or the mischievous smile he had learned to be wary of.

“A handsome family,” he said.

She stood beside him and he heard her sigh. “If I didn’t get lonesome for my parents, there’s nothing about that life I’d miss.”

Her shoulder brushed his arm. The touch sent awareness stampeding through him. He put the frame back on the dresser and moved away from her. That was the first thing he’d done right since accepting her invitation. Maybe the tide of this battle was turning in his favor.

She stared at the photo for a moment, then looked up at him. She was pretty and fresh, and the sight of her was better than anything he could think of. He was in real trouble here. He searched for something to say to break the spell she was weaving.

“How’s your eye, Cady?”

“Good as new.”

He studied her. The swelling was gone, and there was barely a hint of purple left on her upper lid. Above her cheek, the discoloration could have been a smudge of dirt or just the evidence of a lack of sleep. An unfamiliar, protective feeling surged within him, and he started to reach out and touch her. Just in time, he curled his fingers into his palm.

He looked around the room again, anything to divert his attention. Anything to gain the upper hand. For the first time he noticed the rough table and two benches in the center of the room. That was new. On the surface, two places were set for dinner.

He pointed to the roughly fashioned boards. “Where did this come from?”

“Lieutenant Carlton was kind enough to make it for me this morning. I needed a place to work. And eat,” she said with a laugh. “Now all I lack is a decent tablecloth.”

“Hope he managed to pull his detail in between making furniture for you,” he grumbled.

Upper hand, hell. He didn’t like the idea of his men doing things for her. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. Just that army business came first. What the men did on their own time was one thing, but Carlton had whipped this up pretty darn quick. He didn’t want the man’s work suffering because he was smitten with Cady.

The odor of something that smelled mighty tasty drifted toward him. “What’s cooking?” Then a thought struck him. “How will I know you didn’t get someone else to start that cook fire for you?”

She grinned at him. “I had a feeling you’d say that. Dinner is ready, and I banked the fire so I could restart it when you got here.”

It was already too hot in here for him without a fire. But he’d agreed to let her prove herself.

He ran one finger around the high neck of his uniform. “Let’s see.”

She walked over to the fireplace, which was nothing more than a small square made out of rocks set in the wall with a chimney to keep the smoke out. She stooped, and her skirts billowed around her.

After pulling a match from a container, Cady struck it on one of the stones next to her carefully arranged kindling topped with small pieces of wood. The shavings caught and she blew on the tiny flame until it burned brightly. She waited and at just the right moment she reached for a large chunk of wood. When she struggled with it for a few seconds, he moved beside her and lifted it from her hands.

She looked up at him, a warning in her eyes. “You saw me start the fire.”

“I never said you didn’t.” He set the piece of wood on her fire. “Remind me to tell R. J. to chop your wood smaller.”

He looked at her and knew he should get the hell away from her, as far and as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He just held out his hand to help her to her feet. She hesitated only for a moment before placing her fingers in his palm.