The Texan's Dream (11 page)

Gideon and Angela looked at one another. Gideon winked. Something unsaid passed between them.

“What?” Kara felt left out of a secret.

Gideon lowered his eyes and faced Kara. “We all saw it,” he finally answered as though his words made sense.

“Saw what?”

“Saw Mr. Catlin carry you in.” He hesitated, as if being forced to explain the obvious. “No woman ever carried over the threshold has left.”

Kara fought for words while Angela handed her two baskets of flowers. “Oh, no. You don’t understand. There’s been some mistake. You’re reading something into an action that meant nothing. You don’t understand.”

Angela and Gideon nodded their heads, showing no sign of listening to a word she said. Kara tried to explain about Devin O’Toole and how she got the job, but they just smiled like freshly fed house cats.

“Where’s Mr. Catlin?” she finally demanded, realizing only Jonathan could straighten out this mess.

“He just rode in from Brady with the mail,” Gideon said. “Would you like me to go get him for you, Miss Kara?”

She noticed it then. The way she’d been calling them by their first names and they called her “miss.” The way they acted as if they were talking with the mistress of the house. Things she hadn’t noticed came to mind. Angela always asked her what time she wanted each meal. The men waited for her to be seated at breakfast.

“No. I’ll find him.” Kara stormed across the yard. She’d get this corrected right now. She couldn’t let the rest of the staff think there was something between her and Jonathan. Not when that was the furthermost thing from the truth.

THIRTEEN

JONATHAN SAW HER COMING FROM FIFTY FEET AWAY and climbed off his horse to wait for the storm. He had no idea what Miss O’Riley was angry about, but by her doubled-up fists and quick steps, there was no doubt she was on the warpath. And he was in her line of fire.

He’d watched Kara for weeks. The way she smiled so easily, the way she blushed when complimented, the way she tried not to act bothered when he stepped too near. He told himself watching Miss O’Riley was an interesting pastime, but he knew it had become a habit.

Kara stopped three feet from him and took a deep breath. “Mr. Catlin, I’d like a few words with you if ye have no objection.”

Her green eyes danced with fire. He almost laughed, remembering the last time he’d seen them just that color. She had blamed him for breaking her shoe with his face.

“I’m busy, Miss O’Riley. Can it wait?” he said, just to watch the sparks fly. “I’ve got important business.”

“It’s waited long enough,” she answered, moving a step closer. “I’d like this straightened out now. It will only take a few minutes.”

Jonathan glanced toward the bunkhouse. Half the cowhands on the place were listening. “Shall I follow you to the office, or should we walk a spell?”

Kara hesitated. “Walk.” She stormed past him.

It never occurred to Jonathan to let loose of his horse’s reins as they headed out the back gate of the corral. She stormed past the half-finished chapel by the Catlin cemetery and kept walking.

He didn’t try to stop her when he figured they were well out of hearing range. He just let her march across the open pasture until, finally, her pace slowed.

When she faced him, anger still smoldered in her gaze, making everything about her sparkle with life. When he’d first seen her, he didn’t remember thinking she was pretty. That was before he’d seen her angry.

Before she could speak, he asked politely, “Private enough?”

The sky was endless above them. Prairie stretched from horizon to horizon without a break. Wind whispering through the dry buffalo grass was the only sound. He knew she could feel the loneliness of the place. A loneliness he’d long ago begun to think of as comforting. If she wanted to talk in private, she picked the perfect place.

Kara nodded.

Jonathan waited.

Finally, she found her voice. “Everyone at the ranch thinks there is something between you and me. They…”

“Isn’t there?” he said before she could add more. He was worse than a kid blowing into the embers just to see the fire flare, he decided, unable to hide his smile.

Her knuckles whitened. Her eyes blazed. “There is not!” she snapped. “I am your employee. And, I’ll thank you to remember that I’m engaged to Devin O’Toole, who is at this very minute waiting for me to return so he can marry me.”

“The one who’s never kissed you? That Devin O’Toole?” Jonathan asked for clarification as if he knew of another. “The one with more important matters to worry about than you?”

“Yes. No.” She whirled to leave, then changed her mind and faced him once more. “That’s none of your business, Mr. Catlin.”

He guessed he’d hit on the truth, but Miss O’Riley would never admit he was right about her Devin. To be honest, he didn’t want her to. In admitting she wasn’t on the top of Devin O’Toole’s list, she somehow had to accept it as fact.

“Why don’t you call me Jonathan?” He shoved back his hat, preparing to dance with a rattler. “After all, we are living together.”

The fire roared in her eyes once more, hot enough to set the prairie on fire. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Kara took a swing at him.

But she just leaned closer and frowned. “That’s another thing that’s improper. No matter how big the house is, it’s not right for me to be staying there with you … alone.”

“Fair enough.” He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed an argument more. “Any other demands, Kara?”

“Yes. Explain to your staff that you hired me as the bookkeeper, nothing more.”

“I’m not in the habit of explaining what I do to anyone. Anything else?”

“Aye.”

The accent was back, warning him of her temper.

She leaned a bit closer and pointed her finger at his nose. “Stop staring at me.”

He reached for her finger with his gloved hand but hesitated an inch before he touched her. “I’ll try,” he said aloud while mentally reminding himself not to make contact.

“Fair enough,” she retreated. “Is that all?”

She turned toward the headquarters. “Yes,” she said as she started back the way they’d come.

“May I offer you a ride?” Jonathan swung into the saddle.

“I’ll walk, thank you.”

“All right.” He pulled his hat low against the sun, wondering how long this formality would last. “Watch out for snakes.”

With an exasperated sigh, she turned and raised her arms. Jonathan leaned low, circled her waist and lifted her up in front of him. He kicked the horse into action before she had time to protest.

She held on tightly until they reached the steps of the main house, and he enjoyed every minute.

When he reached the house, he pulled the reins hard, swung down even before the horse had stilled and lifted her from the saddle.

His actions were necessary, formal, he told himself, nothing more. He was simply delivering her to safety. The nearness of her had no effect on him, he reminded himself … twice.

But when he lowered her, he brought her closer than necessary and he hesitated a moment before her feet touched the ground.

“Thank you, Mr. Catlin,” she managed to say as formally as possible with Angela and Gideon snickering by the doorway.

“You’re welcome, Miss O’Riley.”

He tipped his hat and was gone before he broke out into a full laugh. The trouble was, he had no idea why.

* * *

After a few attempts, Kara gave up trying to explain anything to Angela and Gideon. The two were determined to believe something smoldered between her and Jonathan. When she tried to explain about the ride he’d given her from the prairie, they both just nodded their heads.

She retreated to the office and worked all afternoon on the books. At sunset, she went to the kitchen to say good night to Angela and eat her supper. As before, her meal waited on the stove. Angela always retreated to her house before night could fall.

Kara had just filled her plate when Snort walked through the back door carrying saddlebags over one shoulder and a rifle cradled in the bend of his arm.

“Evenin’.” He grinned and sat the rifle by the door. “That smells mighty good, Miss Kara.”

“Help yourself,” she offered. “For some reason, Angela left far more than I can eat tonight.”

Snort made himself at home. “Oh, she knew I was coming as soon as I could get my gear together. H. B.’ll be here in a minute. He’s collected too darn much to pack fast.” Snort dusted his hands along his pant legs and reached for a plate as he continued talking. “When a man stays too long in one place, his pockets and bedroll get too heavy. Pretty soon H. B. will have to have a wagon to haul his stuff, then a house to keep it in. Before he knows it he’ll up and die leaving everyone else the problem of trying to figure out what to do with all he collected. A fellow has to be mighty careful about stuff accumulating.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. Except for breakfast, the men always ate in the bunkhouse. Now Snort appeared in the kitchen, visiting as though he had all night.

Kara handed him a cup of coffee. “Please join me for supper before you have to go.”

He accepted the drink and filled his plate. “Oh, I ain’t going nowhere. We’re bunking in here tonight.” Snort sat on the stool across from her. “Boss told us about an hour ago that we were house guests for as long as you’re here.”

He glanced at her and misread her frown. “I know we ain’t the most dependable pair. We do like to disappear for a night or two around payday. But don’t you worry none, when we can’t be here Willis or Luther will take the shift.”

Before he could elaborate, H. B. banged across the back threshold. He had not only saddlebags but a huge cloth sack and a wooden box.

“Evenin’,” he mumbled as he dropped everything he owned in a corner of Angela’s freshly scrubbed kitchen. Dust circled above his belongings and then settled back.

He kept muttering to himself as he moved toward the stove. Kara couldn’t tell if he were swearing or growling.

“Help yourself,” Kara offered for the second time. “Any more of you gentlemen coming in for supper tonight?”

Snort laughed. “Nope. We’re the two that lost the toss.”

H. B. clanked his bowl on the table and sat down. He didn’t look at anyone as he alternately ate and growled, reminding Kara of a half-wild dog afraid someone might try to steal his food. Snort bathed at least seasonally, but she wasn’t too sure about H. B. He had an earthy smell about him that was probably ground-in manure and corral dirt. The little hair he had hadn’t seen soap in years.

Kara looked at Snort for more explanation.

His smile stretched all the way to his gum line. “Not that we didn’t want to come, mind you.” Snort wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s just that we’re used to our own beds in the bunkhouse.”

“You’re moving in here permanently?” Kara asked, surprised.

“Chaperones, that’s what we are,” H. B. said between bites. “Never in this lifetime did I think I’d sink so low.”

“We go where we’re needed,” Snort argued, obviously trying to make the best of a terrible situation.

“What good are we gonna do? I ain’t standing between two people if they wanna be together.” H. B. swore again in a grumble. “No reason for us to be here, ’less he’s forcing himself on the lady. Which seems unlikely, since he’s the one who told us to move here.”

Both men turned toward Kara. Snort whispered what appeared to be on their minds. “He ain’t, is he? Forcing you?”

“Of course not!” Kara stood. She found it hard to believe when she’d mentioned it not being proper for her and Jonathan to be in the house alone, he’d consider this the solution. “We don’t need chaperones, because nothing is going on.”

“If that’s what you say, that’s what we’ll say.” Snort pledged his allegiance.

“But that’s how …” Kara stopped. She saw how hopeless her quest was. She turned and left the kitchen without another word.

After a quick check of the downstairs rooms, she knocked on Jonathan’s door on the slight chance that he was already home. He moved so quietly she rarely heard him come in at night.

Kara had turned to walk away when he suddenly pulled the door open. He didn’t say a word, only stood waiting.

Kara almost forgot what she’d been about to say. The man standing before her wore nothing above the waist. She’d seen bare chests a few times when she’d doctored her father and his friends after accidents at work, and she’d seen men wearing only undershirts. But she’d never thought a man would have answered the door, even in his own house, without pulling on a shirt.

She couldn’t help but stare at his deeply tanned and muscular chest. The memory of the way his skin had felt the night he’d been injured and she’d taken care of his cuts … and she’d touched him … drifted through her mind. She’d felt the warmth of the sun on his flesh and the pounding of his heart just beneath.

“Are you all right, Miss O’Riley?” He folded a telegram he held.

She raised her gaze to his eyes. “I’m fine. I … it can wait until morning.” Kara forced herself to return his stare and not look down again at the scars she’d once traced with her fingers.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he said. “It appears I’m needed in Fort Worth as soon as I can get there. Wolf’s sister wouldn’t have sent me this telegram unless it was important.”

“How far are we from Fort Worth?” The thought crossed her mind that enough time had passed that she could write Father James. If she could get a letter to him and the trouble was over, she could be on her way home before Christmas. She could leave this strange land and these strange people and return to all that was familiar.

“A day’s ride in good weather. Two if it rains.” Jonathan watched her closely, his face as unreadable as always. “Would you like to ride along? You could check out the records at the bank while we’re there.”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. The idea of staying with Snort and H. B. watching over her was not one she wanted to consider. And in truth, she’d be glad to leave this house with its noises and dark shadows.

Jonathan nodded. “I’ Il have a horse saddled for you at dawn.” He closed the door without another word.

Kara hurried to her room. She had a letter to write. Her first communication with her family in over three months would have to be worded carefully, letting them know she was all right without giving away her location. A letter postmarked from Fort Worth would be safe to send. And she’d instruct them how to write back in care of the Widow Adams at Bayley’s Mercantile in Kansas City. Mary Ann Adams would know how to slip a returning letter into a shipment headed for the Catlin Ranch. Kara had already sent Mary Ann a note saying anyone, except Devin O’Toole, of course, asking about a Karina or Kara O’Riley was to be given no information.

Kara slept little between worrying about the letter and fear that she might oversleep and be left behind. At first light, she was dressed and waiting in the foyer.

Snort stumbled down the stairs without his boots and trying to straighten his suspenders over his shoulders as he walked. He took one look at Kara and frowned. “Fort Worth,” he mumbled. “I forgot, but as soon as I’ve had my coffee I’ll be ready to go.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan said from the top of the stairs. He was dressed and as always wearing a gun strapped to one leg. “We’re leaving now. Willis and Newton are riding with us. We’ll be fine.”

Snort nodded but appeared disappointed. He was a man who looked like he believed that the greatest barn dance held in his lifetime was going to be the one he missed. “Willis is your best rider,” Snort reasoned. “And Newton will have business in Fort Worth. There’s probably no reason for me to tag along.”

Jonathan glanced at Kara. “You ready, Miss O’Riley?” She nodded, pulling on the leather gloves and wide-brimmed hat Angela had given her.