The Outlaw Bride (14 page)

Jenny picked up one of the towels and motioned with her arm, skipping further downstream. Katherine grabbed the cake of soap and hurried after her charge. Following the curve of the creek, Jenny stopped at a spot where the water calmed and sun shone straight down onto the gentle pool.

They threw modesty to the wind, stripped down to their underthings and ran in. The cold water sent ripples of goose bumps over Katherine’s skin, but she quickly acclimated. Jenny paddled in a circle, dunking herself underwater and bobbing back up with a shake of her head. She had no fear of the water. Somewhere along the way, someone had taught her to swim. Her father, perhaps? A cloud of guilt loomed. Katherine dunked her head, letting the cool water wash it away. Nothing was going to darken her afternoon.

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am!”

Katherine spun around at the sound of a gruff voice at her back. Her arm reached out to shield Jenny and pull her behind her. A man stood on the bank, his arm thrown over his eyes. Raggedy clothes hung off a bone-thin frame and grizzled hair brushed his shoulders. A large dog, whose gray fur mirrored the state of the man, sat next to him, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Katherine sank lower in the water and held Jenny firm. The little girl squirmed, trying to see around her. “W—what do you want?”

“Don’t mean to intrude, ma’am. Surely I don’t. You mus’ be that new housekeeper Holkum talked about.”

“I—yes.”

“Name’s Eli Gillis. I live up the bluff a ways. Jus’ tryin’ to rummage up some grub is all. Can you help an ole man out?”

Katherine’s heart pounded in her chest with such force she expected ripples to appear in the water. Their clothes rested near the rock where the man stood.

He seemed harmless enough, even if his dog was the size of a small horse, but Katherine wasn’t about to take any chances, especially not with Jenny. A breeze picked up and prickled her skin where her shoulders edged above the water.

“We have some fish,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong and sure. “Down the creek a bit that way.” She tilted her head in the direction they had come. “You’re welcome to it.”

Jenny huffed, obviously not happy with giving up their catch of the day.

“Hush,” Katherine whispered.

“Much obliged, ma’am.” He hesitated and Katherine held her breath. What more could he want? “Do you think…maybe you could take Rudy for payment?”

“Rudy?”

The dog let out a low pitiful whine. “I hate to do it ma’am, but my dog here…I cain’t much look after ’im, but I hate like the dickens to turn him out into the wild. Maybe the sheriff could use ’im, what with two pretty ladies at home and him in town so much. Rudy’d make a great watchdog. Keep you safe, take care of lil’ Jenny there.” The man nodded in the direction where Jenny had been before Katherine hauled her behind her.

“I can’t rightly say if the sheriff will be keen on the idea or not.” She eyed the dog. The thing was huge. And dirty. Behind her she could feel Jenny nodding and poking her back.

“Well, I’ll jus’ leave ’im here, if’n you don’t mind. If the sheriff don’t want ’im, he can just send ’im back. Rudy’ll find his way.”

“Mr. Gillis, I don’t think—”

“Rudy, you stay here.” The man bent and gave the dog’s head a rough pat.

“Mr. Gillis, we don’t need—Jenny quit poking me!” Katherine tried to brush Jenny’s hand from her ribs. When she looked back, the old mountain man had already reached the bend in the creek. “Mr. Gillis!”

Jenny swam around her and started for shore. Katherine grabbed for her drawers but the little girl was too quick. She was up and out of the water by the time Katherine had waded to her knees. “Jenny you get away from that dog right now. He’s filthy and—”

Jenny came to an abrupt halt two feet from the dog and her face twisted into a comical expression as her hands waved the air around her. As Katherine drew nearer, she understood why.

“Oh dear Lord, that thing smells positively vile.”

Rudy barked in response and Katherine would have sworn the dog actually smiled. She couldn’t quite say for certain. She was too dazzled by another.

Jenny stood at the dog’s side, her face beaming as she looked up at Katherine, hope stamped all over her features.

Katherine knew she should protest. She had tried Connor’s patience enough without bringing this smelly beast home. But she couldn’t tell Jenny no. She didn’t have the heart to quash the joy lighting up her face.

“I guess we’re keeping the dog.”

Jenny’s smile widened.

***

Leather creaked as Connor swung himself out of the saddle and surveyed the scene before him. He’d come to the spot where he and Grant had whiled away hours of their youth. It had been their special spot, a place they could go and escape the drudgery of chores or schoolwork.

Connor had come here to read the letters Oliver had given him. Instead, he found the remnants of a picnic scattered around him. Fishing poles crisscrossed each other in the grass and two pairs of shoes littered the clearing. He recognized the ugly, scuffed boots that belonged to Kate resting near the creek’s edge.

Connor swallowed the fear congealing in his guts. It left an acrid taste in his mouth. “Where are they?”

Old Man Gillis spun at the growled question. The basket of fish fell from his hands and landed with a splash. A trout plopped out and made a hasty escape back to the creek before Gillis slammed a hand down on the top.

“W-who?”

Just above Gillis, laid over the boulder, a pair of stockings caught the breeze. Unease prickled the hair on the back of his neck.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. They were fine. Probably just gone for a walk.

Without their shoes. And stockings.

His fingers skimmed the holstered gun at his hip. “Where are Kate and Jenny?”

“I left ’em down the creek a bit, sheriff. I didn’t hurt ’em, I jus’ wanted some—”

Connor didn’t wait to hear the rest of it. He took off at a run.

Connor didn’t bother remounting his horse. He knew he could maneuver around the thick trees and roots much quicker on foot.

“Kate! Jenny!”

Fear spurred him on until he wasn’t even sure his feet touched the ground. He tore past trees and shrubs, ripped through wildflowers and sent a posse of squirrels darting in three different directions. Nothing slowed him down. He rounded the bend. Water splashed in several directions. Connor reached for his gun belt and wrenched the buckle, dropping it to the ground. He didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to consider why Kate and Jenny were even in the water. It didn’t matter.

But before he could reach the creek his foot landed in a thick patch of muck and flew out from beneath him. As he hit the ground, three things registered in his mind: a huge gray beast of a dog stood nearly chest high in the creek covered with suds. Kate barely had a stitch of clothing on, and what she did have clung to her wet skin revealing far more of her than he’d seen the previous night. And Jenny.

Jenny was smiling.

The air whooshed out of his lungs as he hit the ground. His feet landed in the creek, sending water and mud flying in several directions.

Connor blinked and swiped at the water dripping from his brow. If he hadn’t already been on the ground, her smile would have knocked him flat. The wonder of it turned his heart over. He forgot the hard landing he’d just taken, and the dampness soaking through his denims.

His gaze flew to Kate. She gave a brief squeal and plopped down into the water, her arms flying to cover her breasts. He thought to tell her she was a little too late on that account—he’d already had an eyeful—but he couldn’t get the words past the constriction in his throat.

The dog shook, ignorant of the mayhem surrounding him. Suds and water sprayed every which way. Jenny laughed and Connor’s heart filled with joy until he thought it would overflow and flood the embankment.

Laughter.

Amazed, his glance flew to Kate again, then quickly skidded in the other direction.

Dammit. Her soaked underclothes afforded her little coverage.

Jenny giggled and pushed the dog toward the center of the creek. He went easily and swam around her in a circle, leaving a trail of soap suds in his wake. Jenny followed the animal and they made their way back to shore. The dog walked up and sniffed him, then shook once more. Too late, Connor fell onto his side and covered his head, the right side of his shirt soaked.

“Jenny?”

His niece stopped squeezing water from the bottom of her shift and looked over at him.

“What is
that?
” Connor pointed at the large gray beast.

Jenny smiled but didn’t answer. It hardly mattered. Her grin was like magic, dusting his heart with hope. He couldn’t help but smile back.

It was Kate who answered. “
That
is Rudy. Mr. Gillis asked us to keep him.”

Eli. Connor shook his head. He should have known.

He ventured another look at Kate. She remained submerged in the water. Her hair hung in torrents of wet curls. The ends floated around her, reminding him of a water nymph. A very beautiful, delectable water nymph.

“And you said yes?”

As the soap dissipated and the water stilled around her, Connor could see the hint of skin and drawers. His groin hardened and his hand clenched at the earth. He had yet to pull himself out of the puddle of muck. He wasn’t sure he could manage it with any sense of coordinated dignity. Having Kate all but naked just ten feet away left his limbs strangely disengaged from his brain.

Her chin jutted out at a stubborn angle. “It was payment.”

“For what?”

“He wanted our fish.”

Connor struggled into a sitting position. Eli had been pilfering their fish when he’d found him. He hadn’t waited around for an explanation, just took off, fearing the worst. He should have known better. Eli had never harmed a fly for the entire time he’d lived on the mountain.

Tearing his eyes away from Kate, Connor watched Jenny and the dog play tug of war with a stick further up the bank. “And I suppose you told him we would keep it?”

“I was hardly in a position to argue.” A shiver wracked her body. She tried to hide it by hugging her arms tighter against her chest but it was too late.

Connor pushed to his feet. “You need to get out of there before you catch a chill.”

A pretty pink hue tinged the apples of her cheeks. “I’m not getting out with you there. I’m—I’m…”

“Naked,” he supplied helpfully, trying his damnedest not to smile. It was a dismal failure.

“No!”

“You might as well be. I can see straight through those flimsy underthings.”

She crouched down a little deeper until the water caressed her lower lip.

He shook his head. “Little late to be gettin’ all modest now.” He’d already had a bit more than a peek of that delicious little body and he had some swollen body parts of his own to prove it. Connor scooped up a dry towel from the ground and held it open. “C’mere, before you catch your death.”

“I am not getting out with you standing there.” She glanced at Jenny. “It’s indecent.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safely out of the water. The last thing I need is you slipping on the rocks and knocking yourself unconscious.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I assure you—”

“Nothing about concern,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m just real hungry, is all.” He grinned at the flash of anger in her pretty green eyes just before he closed his own and jiggled the flannel towel in his hands. “Come on. I won’t peek. Promise.”

She hesitated. “Swear?”

“Cross my heart.” He’d already seen enough to fuel his dreams for a long time to come.

The slosh of water told him she’d acquiesced. Seconds later her hands brushed his as she reached for the towel. “Give it to me.”

He should have listened to her. He should have handed over the towel and made a hasty retreat. That would have been the sane thing to do. But sanity, he learned, was a tenuous thing. Especially where this woman was concerned.

Connor enfolded her in his arms, wrapping the towel around her shapely frame. She turned to escape, but he held her firm, the soft curve of her bottom pressed lightly into his groin. The scent of creek water and lavender soap teased his senses and his arms tightened in response.

“What are you doing?” Her voice shook, though whether it was from the effects of the cool water or something else, he didn’t know.

He kept his eyes closed. He’d promised, after all. “Warming you up. Wouldn’t want you to catch a fever or anything.” One raged through him right now but he wasn’t entirely certain it was contagious.

“I wouldn’t catch a fever, I would catch a chill. And either way, I’m fine,” she said through chattering teeth.

“Are you?” He wasn’t. Not even a little. His insides were a jumbled mess. His outsides weren’t faring all that well either.

“Yes,” she answered, but the stiffness in her body had eased.

He continued to hold her, letting his arms gently rub hers to warm her up.

“Jenny’s—”

“Jenny’s fine. She’s playing with the dog,” he said. “She laughed. I can’t believe she laughed.” He couldn’t help the wonder that filled his voice, or the heat that burned through him when Kate leaned her weight more fully against him. He stopped rubbing her arms and wrapped his around her.

“I know.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “It was the dog that did it. We have to keep him.”

He wasn’t sure the dog deserved all the credit. The changes had started well before that. They had started with Kate. She’d changed things. She was changing him. He could feel it. How else could he explain how quickly he had come to rely on her? How, despite his best efforts, he looked forward to coming home knowing she was there. It had all happened too swiftly for him to stop it.

Connor thought of the letters he’d shoved into his back pocket—the discrepancies between what Kate had told him and what he’d learned from Oliver—and a sharp jab of suspicion broke past his building desire.

“Kate?” Her body molded perfectly to his. He wanted to uncurl his arms and let his hands roam down the length of her. He wanted to turn her around, unwrap the towel and pull her flush against him with no barriers. He had to stop this, but he didn’t think he had the strength. It’d been so long since he’d felt the softness of a woman and this one tempted every last one of his senses and pushed him beyond reason.

“What?”

He turned his head slightly. His nose brushed against the soft shell of her ear. God, this woman smelled good.

“Connor?”

Even his name sounded better when she said it. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Heaven help him, he was losing it.

Somewhere behind him, the dog barked, reminding him they weren’t alone. He grappled for what remained of his self-control.

With great reluctance, he loosened his hold on her and allowed her to step outside the circle of his arms. A cool breeze touched his body where hers had been. He bit down and willed his eyes to stay shut.

“Get dressed,” he said, gruffer than he meant.

The grass swished as she picked up her clothes and dressed. “We’ll meet you back home,” she said as she passed. Her arm brushed his and sent ripples of need washing over him. He stood at the edge of the creek for several long moments, drinking in great gulps of air.

It didn’t help.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

His fingers fumbled with the buttons on his denims as he stripped down. The cold water bit into his skin as he dove into the creek, letting it cool the traitorous emotions Kate stirred within him.

***

Connor suffered through supper, trying not to look at Kate or be aware of every movement she made as she served up succulent slices of beef smothered in gravy, biscuits, buttered beans and baked potatoes. He tried not to take part in the one-sided conversation she had with Jenny about their day, or answer with more than a grunt when she posed a question to him. He counted the minutes until he could escape. Once Jenny was tucked in for the night, he bolted from the house and made a beeline for the stables, the godforsaken dog trotting at his heels. He had spread the letters on a bale of hay to dry, his fall in the muck having left the pink stationery the worse for wear.

The scent of fresh hay and horseflesh helped ease the mottled emotions spinning inside him like a twister. He had hoped the familiar rhythm of his chores would erase the feelings completely, but even with the stalls cleaned and the horses tended to he couldn’t push aside the feeling holding Kate had elicited.

He should have kept his hands to himself. But he hadn’t. And now it was impossible to think of anything else but putting them on her again, exploring the gentle curve of her hips, the dip that led to her small waist, the rounded bottom she’d pressed into him.

Connor groaned and dropped his weight next to where the letters were drying. Beside him the dog whined. He glanced down. “Are you mocking me?”

Rudy stared back with innocent, doleful eyes.

“I know, I’m a fool,” he said, reaching for the letters. Water stains blotched the feminine scrawl, blurring the ink and in some areas erasing it completely. The color had leached from the stationery. Connor flipped through the pages. Some were worse than others, but all bore the evidence of his fall.

Stretching an arm over his head, Connor lifted the oil lamp from its hook next to the stall. He brushed away the straw strewn about the floor with his feet and set the lamp next to him.

The first letter, dated the previous November, was ruined, save for the date and salutation. The second hadn’t fared much better. The lower half was nearly obliterated, but the top portion spoke of her family, most of which Oliver had already relayed, some he had not, and none of which matched what Kate had told him.

She went on to describe her dream of starting a new life away from the painful memories and loneliness of her current one.

For a brief moment, hope surged within him. This was the Kate he knew. The sense of hope and fear mingled together as she tried to start over. Perhaps he had simply misunderstood or—

He flipped to the last letter and stopped. The crease in the middle had torn the paper nearly in two. The top half was indecipherable, the bottom half-smudged and unreadable, save for a few words near the end.

But it was enough.

Kate had lied to him. Flat out lied. Anger mixed with betrayal and disbelief.

Hannah Stockdale’s burns had not healed as Kate had led him to believe.

Connor fought against the words scrolled across the page in neat, even strokes. He didn’t want to believe it. It had happened again. And he’d let it. He let her inch her way into his heart with her warm smile and gentle nature only to discover it had all been a lie.

How many times could one man play the fool? Had his experience with Emily taught him nothing? Women, if given the chance, would rip your heart out and stomp it flat with their boot heel.

The muscles in his shoulders tightened and he pulled his spine erect, staring into the shadows where the lamplight didn’t reach. Who was this woman, this stranger, who had slipped with such ease past his carefully constructed defenses?

He didn’t know.

But one thing he could say for certain—she sure as shootin’ wasn’t Hannah Elizabeth Stockdale.