To Catch a Wolf (25 page)

"I will arrange transportation," Athena said. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.

"Everything will be made ready at Long Park, and you'll have a guide through the pass.

There may be some snow, but the weather should not be too severe.”

Morgan broke the almost painful connection between them and knelt to gather Caitlin in

his arms. She sucked in her breath at the motion, but her gaze darted from Athena to

Morgan with avid attention. Athena noticed and turned quickly to Harry.

"Good-bye, Mr. French. Mr. Wakefield, Caitlin

Morgan.”

"Good-bye for the time being," Harry said. "Thank you, my dear.”

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Morgan didn't remain for the end of the scene. He carried Caitlin out the back door and

to Harry's tent.

"It's that bad, is it?" Caitlin murmured.

He grunted and laid her on Harry's cot. "Worry about your leg, not me.”

"I worry about you denying what anyone can see.”

The cold, relentless stare that Morgan frequently used to great effect did not work with

Caitlin. "And what is that?”

For once her expression was perfectly sober, and not just because of the pain.

"Why, my friend," she said, "only that you're in love with Athena Munroe.”

Morgan seldom laughed. He did so now, a bark that sounded half cough and half growl.

He could not have confirmed Caitlin's diagnosis more completely.

She had seen it coming, of course. At first the sparks between him and Athena had

seemed mere attraction, the kind of curiosity a person might have about someone the

very opposite of oneself. Like me and Niall Munroe.

But somewhere along the way curiosity and attraction had turned into something far

more serious. Serious enough to frighten both of them. Badly.

As it frightened Niall.

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"You are making this much more difficult than it needs to be," she said, trying to settle

her aching leg more comfortably. "For once in your life you had better be willing to take

advice. I understand Athena as you cannot. I am a woman too, you know.”

"So Munroe has observed." He glared at her. "Are you in love with him?”

"That is foolish," she said lightly. "And even if I were, he'd have nothing to do with me.”

"No? The way he stayed close to you, when you were hurt...”

"Means nothing." She shrugged. "And we are talking about you, so don't try to change

the subject.”

"You are wasting your breath. Athena will not be coming to the ranch.”

Caitlin chuckled, though the motion jarred her leg. "I have a feeling that she'll find a

way.”

Morgan muttered under his breath and paced up and down the short length of the tent.

"You are her friend," he said. "If you speak to her again, tell her not to come.”

"Why? She likes the troupe, and we like her. I have no right to even suggest it—unless

you have a very good reason for me to give her.”

He paused in midstride and fisted his hands behind his back. "It would be better if we

never met again.”

"Better for her, or for you?" She tried to sit up, but the pain was too intense. Damn the

inconvenience of being so

so helpless, even if it was only for a little while. "I do not

believe that you think less of her because of her affliction. I know you don't care for

townies. You two are very different in many ways. But that isn't why you want her to stay

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in Denver." She took a deep breath. "You want to protect her from yourself. You don't

think you're good enough for her, and it has nothing to do with money or position or any

of those things. What happened to you that made you so sure she's better off without

you?”

She had pushed too far and too fast. He swung to face her, head lowered and teeth

bared.

"Enough," he said. "Do not speak of this again, Firefly.”

"I'm not afraid of you, Morgan. I know you too well. You bluster and bully, but you

wouldn't hurt me. Or her.”

Never had a man looked more like an affronted and very hungry beast. But Morgan

closed his mouth and backed toward the door, prepared to retreat where he could not

win.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I have no right to judge you. But whatever you did in your past—

whoever you were before you came to us—I know you are a good man. You've proved

that to all of us. And as for Athena—”

A tall shadow loomed against the outer tent wall. Niall Munroe ducked his head into the

tent and nearly bumped into Morgan. He scowled, caught sight of Caitlin, and quickly

smoothed his expression.

"Miss Hughes" he said. "I beg your pardon. I would like to have a word with Mr. Holt.”

Morgan bristled. "You'd better leave, Munroe.”

"Not until you hear what I have to say. Privately.”

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Without a word, Morgan shoved past Niall and left the tent. Niall followed.

If her leg had hurt only a little less, Caitlin would have hobbled her way to the door and

listened for all she was worth. As it was, she heard only the rumble of deep voices,

rising in pitch and hostility as the minutes ticked by. Niall did most of the talking—or

ordering, for Caitlin had a very good idea what he said. Morgan's replies were brief and

edged like a knife thrower's blades. When it was over, only one man returned to the

tent.

Niall Munroe paused momentarily at the entrance and then came inside, bending his

long body awkwardly.

"Where is Morgan?" Caitlin demanded. "What did you say to him?”

Perhaps he had expected a kinder welcome. He straightened and removed his hat. His

brown hair was mussed underneath, though the recent duel had been made with words

and not fists.

"That need be no concern of yours, Miss Hughes," he said stiffly.

"Morgan is my friend," she said. "What concerns my friends also concerns me.”

"Very well." He set his hat down on a stool beside the cot and folded his hands behind

his back. "I asked him to stay away from my sister.”

Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, she rose up on her elbows. "Did you, then?

Why, pray tell?”

He held her gaze without apology. "It has been brought to my attention that he is

showing a certain

interest in her, and that she has not been entirely indifferent.”

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Brought to his attention. Then it was not he who had observed the attraction, but

someone else. And Caitlin had a very good notion of who that someone might be—the

officious, pinch-faced, and resentful Cecily Hockensmith.

"I can assure you that nothing improper has gone on between Morgan and Athena,"

Caitlin said. "Harry wouldn't allow it, and neither would I.”

"What you consider proper—" He thought better of what he'd been about to say and

began again. "I was not mistaken, then, in believing that my sister is keeping company

with Holt.”

How much to admit, when his mind was already so set against Morgan? "They like each

other," she said. "Why is that so terrible?”

"Because Athena is still very much a child in many ways, and has no experience with

men. She is far too open-hearted, and Holt is—" He paused again, setting his jaw. "My

sister is dependent upon me, and upon my judgment. Your 'Wolf-Man' is not fit company

for a lady.”

So Munroe had discovered the nature of Morgan's circus act. Doubtless that was also

Miss Hockensmith's doing.

"I am surprised you deigned to visit me," Caitlin said, "for surely I'm no better company

for so fine a gentleman as yourself. Will you tell your sister to avoid what you will not?”

He could have left then, and escaped her insulting questions entirely. But he lingered,

staring about the tent as if it were filled with valuable and fascinating treasures rather

than the flotsam and jetsam of circus life.

"I know the world as Athena does not," he said. "She is the one thing in my life with

which I will take no risks and no chances.”

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"I see. And what did Morgan say to your kind request?”

His gaze jerked back to her. "He denies any interest in my sister.”

Liar. Either you or Morgan is a liar of the worst sort, because you're lying to yourself.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. I understand that Athena has promised to stay

away from the ranch while we are there. You have arranged everything just as you want

it." She eased back on to the cot. "You had better not waste any more of your valuable

time, Mr. Munroe.”

He swept his hat off the stool and sat down, straddling it with legs spread wide. "Is it not

enough that we are giving you a place to stay for the winter, Miss Hughes? Have we not

demonstrated our goodwill?”

"Troupers are not fond of unwilling charity.”

"It's not unwilling, damn it—I beg your pardon." He swiped his hand across his brow,

further ruffling his hair. "You must understand that—”

"That charity is all right from such as you to the likes of us, but not friendship?”

He blew out a sigh. "Miss Hughes—Caitlin—”

"Only friends should call each other by their Christian names, Mr. Munroe.”

"What proof of friendship do you wish of me?" he roared.

She stared at him. He subsided into something like meekness. "I apologize. It is just that

I—" His curse was not quite low enough to escape her notice. "I consider myself your

friend

Caitlin. And I hope you will consider yourself mine.”

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Well, well, well. "Indeed? That is generous of you

Niall.”

He didn't balk at the familiarity, so she was compelled to grant his sincerity. Still, he was

far too high-and-mighty for his own good.

"Since we have become such bosom friends," she said, "you must explain to me why

Athena and Morgan cannot be friends as well.”

"It is different—”

"Just how is it different? I have little education myself, no name or money. I'm no better

than Morgan.”

He frowned. He brooded. He turned about on the stool so that he faced away from her,

lost in his own thoughts. At last he seemed to reach a decision and met her gaze.

"My sister

" he began, "Athena is not like you. She has lost the kind of freedom you

enjoy, and the ability to protect herself. She is vulnerable in body and in spirit. And she

is that way because of me.”

"What do you mean, because of you?”

"She was in an accident." He lowered his eyes, scuffing at the straw with the heels of

his boots. "It happened in the mountains, during winter. We were at Long Park, and I—

In those days, I had a tendency to be foolish. Reckless." He sighed. "I got myself into

trouble. Athena believed she could save me. She was caught in an avalanche that did

severe damage to her legs. The doctor told us she would never walk again.”

Caitlin bit her lip. This man who spoke with such regret and shame was not the same

whose arrogance had annoyed her and infuriated Morgan. She could scarcely believe

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that he had confided so much to her, of all people. Or was it because she was so

different, so far outside the boundaries of his rarified circle, that she was a safe recipient

for such a confession?

Guilt could drive a man to horrible acts. It certainly gave Niall reason to regard his sister

as a fragile China doll, an heirloom kept high on a shelf, admired but never touched.

And perhaps it even explained why he had been moved to agree to Athena's scheme,

and came to see Caitlin now. Her injury reminded him too much of his sister's, but this

time he had a chance to make it come out right.

Caitlin had a very strong desire to reach out and touch him. She knew it would be a

mistake. Pity, even sympathy, he would tolerate no better than Morgan. Were they so

much alike, after all?

What sort of guilt made Morgan doubt his own worth, and drove him away from Athena?

"I am sorry," she said, meaning it. "But Athena is stronger than you know. She does not

blame you, I am certain of it.”

"Her heart is generous by nature. And that is why she is in that chair." Niall snatched up

his hat and got to his feet. "Now you understand why Morgan Holt must stay away from

her.”

No, I do not understand, she thought. There is something you are leaving out, my friend.

Something more you will not admit.

"I think you're wrong," she said. "I know you are.”

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He pushed his hat onto his head with unnecessary force. "The decision has been made.

You and the circus will go to Long Park, and Athena will remain here. She has plenty to