Big Sky Love

by Cate Dean

  “As you wish, Kate.” The way his deep, accented voice curled around her name left her shivering. Evan had never even come close to touching her like this near stranger. “Let me help you into the saddle.”

  That brought home just how much Evan’s assault had affected her. She hadn’t needed help mounting a horse since she was eight.

  Charles was gracious, and only steadied her when she needed it. Once she was settled on Buster, he swung up with the grace she had admired since the first time she saw him ride Lightning. Mike strode out of the house, anger turning his mouth into a thin line. He stalked up to Kate.

  “You need to go into town, report this.”

  “No.” Just the thought of other people knowing horrified her. She would be a laughingstock, and Evan would look like the man who just tried to show his love to his woman. Evan would twist her story until he looked like the victim. “We’ll deal with him, Mike. I promise you—he won’t get away with it. In fact, by the time I’m done, he’ll wish he’d never met me.” An idea had already formed in her mind. It involved peach pie, laced with an ingredient that would make Evan miserable for days.

  “Fine.” He laid one hand on her knee, his touch gentle, and welcome. Mike had always been like a brother to her. “I just want to be around to see him suffer.”

  “I think I can arrange that.”

  Just having a plan made her feel better. Stronger. She straightened her shoulders, and glanced over at Charles. He had been studying her, his eyes narrowed. Now he nodded, a smile flashing across his face.

  “I would like to join Mike.”

  “Then we can make it a public humiliation.” For the first time since Evan pinned her against the wall, she felt in control. “And I have just the time and place.” She looked at Mike, and his eyes widened.

  “Not the church picnic? Everyone for miles around will be there.”

  “Exactly. Don’t worry, Mike.” She patted his hand. “Evan won’t know what hit him, until it hits him. Right in the stomach.”

  Mike stared at her for a few seconds, then bust out laughing. “Remind me never to step on your toes, Kate.”

  Charles cleared his throat. “May I be included in the secret?”

  “You’ll know, come tomorrow,” she said. He looked disappointed, so Kate moved over and took his hand. It just felt right, to touch him like this. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  “Then I suppose I will have to attend this picnic.” He lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed her knuckles, like she was a high society woman, and not a rancher, with calloused hands and skin too freckled even to be in the same room with those women. “May I have the pleasure of your company tomorrow?”

  She felt herself blush, and cursed her Irish skin. It showed every emotion, whether she wanted to or not.

  “Are you asking me on a date, Charlie?”

  He tilted his head, a smile on those full, soft lips. Heavens, how she wanted to kiss him. “I am, Kate Maguire. I would be honored to have you at my side.”

  Her blush deepened, and she wanted to smack Mike up the side of the head when he laughed. “I’m honored to accept, Mr. de Witt.”

  He kissed her hand again, a thrill of heat shooting through her. Even Evan’s assault didn’t affect her need to get closer to this man.

  Tomorrow was going to be eventful.

  Seven

  THEY RODE BACK to Kate’s ranch, and Charles stayed close to her side, still worried for her.

  It almost crowded out his rage, and his desire to cause great bodily harm. If it was the last thing he did before he left, he would make Kransky pay for laying hands on her.

  “How was your first day, Charlie?”

  He looked over at her, surprised by the light tone in her voice. Her face still looked pale, the bruises on her jaw more pronounced. Sight of them let some of the rage slip free. With an effort, he clamped it down again, and answered her question. She was most likely searching for a distraction.

  “Would you prefer honest, or polite?”

  A dimple appeared in her left cheek. Charles gripped the reins, to keep from tracing his thumb down that dimple. The last thing she needed was another man pawing at her. “Let’s save polite for when you feel like swearing at me in your sleep.”

  “Honest, then. It was exhausting. I believe there may be dust in crevices I had no idea existed.”

  Kate’s laughter had him gripping the reins tighter. “I’m glad I found you, Charlie de Witt. I haven’t laughed this much in too long.”

  They didn’t talk again until Kate stopped at the barn. It hurt to watch her ease out of the saddle, knowing he could not offer assistance. He knew she would want little attention drawn to her. But, as often happened on his estate, news traveled faster than the wind.

  Ranch hands appeared, led by Sally.

  “Are you all right, Miss Kate? Oh—your face—”

  “Is fine. I’m fine.” She raised her voice, and lifted her chin. “Stop frowning at me. Evan will get his comeuppance. Sally, I’m going to need your help with that.”

  “Whatever you need me to do.” The cook sounded positively fierce. Charles fell a bit in love with her. Glancing over at Mike, he did not seem to be the only one. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “Give me a minute.” She walked over to Mike, framed his face with her hands, and pulled him down until they were eye level. “Thank you, for coming to my rescue.”

  She kissed him, and Charles wanted to punch the man. Then she moved to Charles, and pulled him down, standing on tiptoe to reach eye level without bending him in two.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Her warm breath brushed his lips a moment before she kissed him.

  He tried to keep it light, since they had an audience, but Kate had other plans.

  She deepened the kiss immediately, and his body responded. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. The catcalls finally penetrated, and she eased back, a smile on her face. It left him more aroused than her kiss.

  “Kate—”

  “Thank you for replacing the memory of my last kiss.” Now he saw the lingering fear, and wanted to crush Kransky for putting that fear in her eyes. He settled her to the ground, and she stepped back, facing a group of people who clearly cared for her deeply. “Thank you all, for your support. It means more to me than I can tell you—”

  “Katie, girl—” She closed her eyes at the sound of her father’s voice. “Let me through—”

  Charles moved away from her, giving her one less thing to explain to the man limping toward them. Anger turned his face red.

  “Pa—”

  “Where is he? You let him off the hook, didn’t you?” He did not give her time to answer before he pulled her into his arms. “That boy won’t step foot on this property again—not as long as I’m breathing. I’m so sorry, girl. Sorry that I judged him so wrong.”

  “We didn’t know, Papa.” She rubbed his back, soothing when she should have been the one to receive it. “I didn’t know—not until Evan attacked me.” She lifted her head, and met her father’s tear-bright eyes. “But he’s going to pay. In an uncomfortable and very public way.”

  Eight

  KATE STEPPED OUT to the porch, wearing one of the two dresses she owned, and a light scarf tied around her neck to help hide the bruises. She also wore her hair down, as more coverage. Sally had pulled part of it back, and tied it with a ribbon—probably in a sweet little bow. Kate decided not to think about it.

  The rest of her waves hung down to her waist, bright against the blue calico. The color was a compromise with the seamstress, for having to own a dress at all. It didn’t help that Pa had strong armed her into buying them, so she could, as he put it, look female when necessary. Representing the family at church on Sundays turned out to be one of those times, and she found herself actually thinking of adding a couple more to her wardrobe.

  Pa had almost fallen out of his chair with the laughter at her announcement.

  He h
adn’t been doing much of that since his back was injured by the hay bale.

  With an effort, she pushed aside the memory of finding him trapped under the bale, and stepped down to the yard. There was a bite to the wind that tugged at her skirt, lifted her hair, but it wouldn’t dampen the spirits of the locals. This picnic was one of the most anticipated events of the year—with plenty of food, races, and games for the children. It was a day of welcome relaxation for those who worked hard.

  This year, Kate knew she wouldn’t regret taking a day from the ranch. Not with her plan for Evan baking in the kitchen. If he thought he had gotten away with treating her like his property, he was about to have an awakening.

  A painful, embarrassing awakening.

  “You look cheerful this fine morning.” Charles smiled at her as he approached, and she had to shove her hands in the pockets of her skirt to keep from grabbing him. “Is that a dress I see, or are my eyes deceiving me?”

  It took all her focus to answer him. “I do own one or two. If Father Bright saw me wearing trousers in church, he would have me excommunicated—after he recovered from fainting.”

  Charles laughed at her description. He looked incredible, wearing a dark blue shirt and matching trousers. A blue bandana was tied in some kind of intricate knot at his throat, and his hat would frame his lean, tanned face when he wore it. Right now, he held it in his left hand, and the snatches of wind rustled his dark brown hair.

  “I enjoy the church picnic. It’s the one day I can give my employees a legitimate excuse for a day off. Then there’s the food.”

  “Is it the caliber of Sally’s?”

  “Oh, you are good, Charlie de Witt.” She put her hands on her hips. “Do you sweet talk all the girls like that?”

  He stepped closer, and her heart did a flip. “Only the girls I mean to impress.” His dark blue eyes were intent as they studied her. “Right now, I am attempting to impress one girl. Have I succeeded?”

  “I’ll let you know.” Heavens, had he. Kate could hardly take in a breath, with him looking at her like that. “Excuse me. I need to go check on Sally. She’s baking a special pie for today, and I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

  Charles raised one eyebrow. “Would that be part of the plan I am not privy to?”

  “Maybe.” It took all her control not to grin at the frustration on his face. “I might take pity on you, and tell you on the way to town. If you can keep a secret.”

  “I can.” His eagerness charmed her. Everything about this surprising man charmed her.

  “All right—I’ll give you a tidbit, see if you can work out the rest. Evan has this reaction to a certain food, one very few people know about, because the result of that reaction is—embarrassing.”

  Charles raised an eyebrow. “You are devious, Kate Maguire. Most women would have him beaten up in a dark alley. Instead, you intend to hit him where it will do the most damage. His ego.”

  “Tell me he doesn’t deserve it, Charlie, and I’ll move on to my alternate plan.”

  “He deserves the beating in an alley. One I would be happy to volunteer for.” Charles leaned in, his warm breath brushing her ear. “He has earned the humiliation. As a fellow male, I wish I could defend him.” He pulled back until he met her eyes. “But he has done the indefensible. Do your worst, Kate.”

  He kissed her cheek and walked toward the stable, leaving Kate shaky and breathless.

  She wanted him—oh, how she wanted him. But he was her employee, and she had rules, at least in her head. Too many complications, too many ways it could go wrong.

  With a sigh, she moved around to the back door, where the wagon had already been pulled up, ready to be loaded with the food for their table at the picnic. Sally waved to her from the doorway, then turned to pick up the centerpiece of their table.

  The peach pie was gorgeous, and for anyone else, a tasty treat.

  For Evan, it would be her retaliation for his assault.

  “I’ll give him the chance to apologize first,” she muttered, wanting to give him an out, because of their long friendship.

  A chuckle behind her told her that she hadn’t been muttering as quietly as she thought. Charles stepped up to help Sally load the wagon, his smile and banter charming the cook. Kate shook her head, shoving down her sudden desire to kiss that charming man, and joined in.

  EVERYONE IN TOWN had turned out for the picnic. Kate stood by the table for The Willows, partly to greet those who helped themselves to the abundance of fried chicken, cold potatoes, and sweet treats—and partly to keep certain people from making pigs of themselves.

  She had set aside portions for the families she knew were struggling, and made sure they got extra shares, without it seeming like charity. They were tucked in small buckets, with cloth napkins, so the families could take home what they didn’t finish at the picnic.

  It had cost more than she normally budgeted for the picnic, but with men running off to the gold mines and leaving families behind with next to nothing, Kate wanted to do what she could.

  Evan arrived, surrounded by his hands. He immediately headed for Kate, and she braced herself.

  “Kate—I—”

  “If that’s not the start of an apology, Evan, you can stop right there.”

  His nostrils flared. “I know you weren’t all that pleased with my declaration—”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?” She twisted her fingers into her skirt to keep from punching him. “A declaration?”

  “I love—”

  “Let’s forget what happened, Evan, and just move on.” He looked relieved, and angry. Kate didn’t care. His version of the assault clinched his punishment. She turned and picked up the pie. “Sally baked this special. I’ve had to slap hands all morning to keep people from cutting into it.”

  He took the pie, and leaned in to sniff. “Peach?” A smile she didn’t like spread across his face. He looked smug. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “It means I’m moving on. Enjoy the pie, Evan.”

  “I’m going to enjoy it right now. Sally, did you bring a pie server?”

  “I sure did, Mr. Kransky.” Sally appeared, the server and a plate in her hand. “Let me cut you a nice, big piece.”

  Kate had to walk away, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to control the anticipation that had to be on her face. She saw Charles watching from the other side of the crowded churchyard.

  Evan was about to give him, and everyone else, a show they wouldn’t soon forget.

  She looked over her shoulder in time to see Evan wolf down the first piece, and cut himself a second, not bothering to use the fork Sally held out to him.

  “That is about the best peach pie you’ve baked yet. There’s something different.” He sniffed the piece in his hand. “Did you add something new to it?”

  “I did, Mr. Kransky.” Sally smiled, and delivered the death blow. “I found a new recipe that uses wild blueberries.”

  Evan stilled, the half-eaten piece an inch from his mouth. “What did you say?”

  “Wild blueberries. They grow all over the ranch, so all I had to do was pick them and pop them into the pie. Are you all right, Mr. Kransky?”

  He had dropped the pie in the dirt, his eyes wide. He knew it was already too late. If his reaction was as fast as the last time, he should be clutching his stomach any second—

  “Son of a bi—” He dug his fingers into his stomach. “I can’t eat blueberries—didn’t Kate—”

  “I’m so sorry.” Sally looked horrified, right on cue, and Kate moved forward, ready to intervene. “I didn’t tell Miss Kate I was adding them. I wanted it to be a surprise—oh, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “A bucket may be in order, Sally,” Charles said. He stepped between her and a red-faced Evan, who was still able to retaliate if he was stupid enough to try. “My Irish nanny always told me, ‘Charles,’ she would say, her voice serious, ‘the way you treat others will always come back to you te
nfold, good or bad.’ It seems her wisdom turned out to be correct.” He leaned in, and only those standing right next to Evan heard his next words. “You got off easy, you bastard. Take what you earned and leave off. Next time, tenfold will be a great deal more painful.”

  Evan couldn’t respond. The blueberries had kicked in, and he was too busy throwing up on Father Bright’s shoes.

  His foreman, Larry, grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from the fast-growing crowd. Evan shoved him away, then stumbled across the street, weaving as he headed for Doc Garner’s small office. Doc would be there, waiting for him. Kate may have wanted him to suffer embarrassment, but she didn’t want him to suffer physically—at least, not for long.

  Doc would take care of him, and that would be the end of it. If this wasn’t enough of a hint for Evan to keep away from her—she’d just have to shoot him the next time he showed up at the ranch.

  That thought was more pleasant than it should have been.

  “Pleased with the result, Kate?” Charles’ deep voice jerked her around. He looked amused. “You could not have chosen a better method. I take it the local doctor has been alerted to a possible patient?”

  “Evan was a childhood friend. No matter how badly he acted, I couldn’t let him suffer. Much.”

  Charles moved in until he had her trapped between his chest and the side wall of the church. “Remind me to never anger you, Kate Maguire.” He whispered against her ear, his breath warm, arousing. “My nanny, Bernadette, would have liked you immensely. And I always trusted Bernadette’s opinion.”

  Kate swallowed, every inch aware of him.

  “Do you think I—” She had to take a deep breath, try to gather her scattered thoughts. It didn’t help. Having Charles almost on top of her only made breathing, and thinking, more difficult. “Did I go too far?”

  “He assaulted you, Kate.” Anger edged his quiet voice. “If Mike and I had not arrived, it may have gone from assault to rape.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. That had always been at the back of her mind. Evan had been so desperate, so frantic. He may have lost control—and she would have paid for it.