by Gold, Ciara
“Of course. He’s also a mighty fine lover.”
Bryce resisted the urge to drop his jaw. From the lips of the starched lady he knew, her comment came as quite a shocker. He knew what she was about, baiting her father like that, but he didn’t like being used in this manner. Her suggestive remark could land a noose around his neck or a ring on his finger. Marriage, he wouldn’t mind, but not at the end of a shotgun.
“Set him straight, Katy, or I will. I won’t have you lyin’ to your father,” Bryce growled. He realized his mistake almost immediately. He’d used his pet name for her, the same nickname Sarge had used, instead of her formal handle. Ever since that kiss, he had difficulty thinking of her as a Kaitlin. To him, she was his Katy.
“I haven’t lied.” She shrugged, and a lock of brown hair fell across her forehead. “I didn’t say you were my lover. I said you were a fine lover.”
“Which you wouldn’t know unless you had first-hand knowledge, which you don’t. Not that I wouldn’t mind a romp in the hay with you, but, darlin’, I don’t feel like getting’ shot for a pleasure I haven’t yet experienced. Therefore, to my way of thinkin’ the lie was implied.”
At that point, Sarge busted out laughing, clearly amused by this brief exchange. Bryce smiled. He could see the humor from her father’s point of view. It wasn’t every day a daughter discussed quite openly with her father the nature of her non-sexual relationship with a man.
When his laughter subsided, Sarge came around the desk and studied his daughter with a critical eye. Bryce would have compared the man’s examination to that of a horse buyer looking for a prime bit of horseflesh. That he was also subjected to such close scrutiny, made his skin crawl. Bryce shifted nervously on his bare feet, but winced when he put more weight than he’d intended on his right foot.
“Want to check my teeth, too?” Bryce finally asked, disliking the silence that seemed to stretch endlessly.
“Nah, I think you’ll do right nicely. Right nicely indeed.” Sarge turned to Johnny Boy. “Find a room for my daughter upstairs. You can put Bryce in the bunkhouse, and see that he has some clothes once you get him there.”
“No.” Kaitlin stated firmly. “We won’t be staying here.”
Sarge’s shaggy brows came together in a fierce frown. “You are here and by God, you’re not leaving again until we clear the air.”
“I have no intentions of leaving, but I refuse to stay in your house. We’ll make do in the honeymoon cabin.”
“I won’t hear of it.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“As a matter of fact, I can. I won’t have you staying on that worthless piece of rock.”
“But it’s my piece of rock, my land. I applied for that homestead. I gave it five long years of sweat and tears. As far as I can tell, it’s still mine.” A stubborn tilt to her head dared her father to disagree. Bryce knew that look well. His money was on Kaitlin.
“You don’t never learn, do you, girl?” Sarge ran a calloused hand through thinning gray hair. “You couldn’t make a go of it then, and you can’t now.”
“I don’t intend to make a go of it.” She shook her head. “I’m going to stay there for a week, long enough to convince you I’m happy in Denver where I am.”
“I offered to buy that hunk of land from you.” Sarge sighed. “The offer still stands.”
“Why? As you pointed out, it’s worthless. Nothing grows there. There aren’t enough trees to market lumber. With no range grasses to speak of, it won’t support cows through the long winter months. The ground is too hard to farm a decent crop. What would you gain if you bought it?”
“I would help you out of a bind.”
“I don’t need or want your help.”
“I expected you to have more sense.” Sarge’s frustration was tangible, a living, breathing thing. “Damn fool female.”
“Rankles still, doesn’t it?” Kaitlin needled him further.
“What?”
She folded her arms. “That I wasn’t the son you craved.”
“I have a legacy to leave, a kingdom here at the Silver Saddle, and no one who wants it.”
“Is that why you sent all those notes?” Her quiet inquiry sounded like a shout in the stillness of the room. What notes did she refer to? Was she talking about the ones addressed from Sarge or the ones meant to drive her from her home? Had her father stooped low enough to pull such a mean stunt in hopes of forcing her to return to the Silver Saddle?
“I’m your father. I have a right to want to see my only daughter.” His gruff voice had gentled, but her stiff posture indicated her refusal to be seduced by his words.
His only daughter? Bryce was confused. How had this man heard of Bethany’s death when Kaitlin had just heard of it herself? No one in Brownwood even knew Bethany’s father still lived. How did he know Kaitlin was his only living daughter?
“You heard?” Bryce asked Sarge, puzzled by the subtle undercurrents of tension that branded the air.
Kaitlin shot him a pointed look. “As far as Sarge is concerned, Bethany died sixteen years ago. You’re in for disappointment if you think he’ll grieve now.”
Sarge sank down in the large, cowhide-covered chair, his expression grim. “Bethany’s dead?”
Kaitlin mimicked his own actions by pounding his desktop. “Don’t you dare pretend sorrow. Not now. Not ever.”
The man lifted wounded eyes and looked at a point beyond Kaitlin. “Will, see them both settled. Then ride back to the honeymoon cabin and fetch their things. Make it snappy. I don’t like the idea of this man parading around in his underwear.”
“I’m not staying here,” Kaitlin replied sternly, her fists clenched at her sides.
“You’re not staying at that cabin. Have you looked at the weather lately? We’re due for some heavy snowfall, and that shack isn’t weatherproofed. The window’s busted, and the roof’s liable to cave in if we have a heavy enough snowfall. I’m surprised it’s held up this long.”
Kaitlin straightened. “You used to be able to browbeat me into anything, but not this time.”
“I was never able to browbeat you. You were the most ornery, stubborn, difficult child there was, but I’m putting my foot down now. Even your escort will agree with me on this one.”
They both turned an expectant gaze on Bryce. Caught between two stallions fighting for the right to lead, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He hated siding with Sarge if his support of Katy meant so much to her, but Sarge was right.
After studying both combatants, he turned toward Will. “Lead the way. Looks like we’ll be needing guest accommodations after all.”
Twenty Five
Bryce had just finished slipping on his boots when the door flew open and one of the hands strolled into the bunkhouse. The man looked weary. A rip in his pants extended from his thigh to his knee, and dirty trails of sweat ran down his cheeks. Well-used chaps hadn’t been enough to protect his waist overalls.
Bryce smiled. “Looks like you must have tangled with a thorny tree branch.”
The man stopped, obviously surprised to find Bryce there.
“Didn’t know the old man was hiring anyone new,” the man said cautiously, tossing leather gloves onto a bunk.
“Just passin’ through. Name’s Bryce Stanton.”
The man nodded and untied his rawhide chaps. “Bangles Demsy. I’m the foreman here, so I do most of the hirin’ and firin’. You gave me a bit of a surprise, as the Sarge usually lets me know when we’re expectin’ company.”
“Actually, I escorted his daughter here.”
At that, Bangles snapped his head up, and his hands froze on the buttons of his fly. After the momentary shock wore off, he finished unbuttoning his torn pants and slipped them off. He gave his leg a cursory glance, probably searching for damage to his own hide. An ugly scratch marred his skin, but it must not have bothered him too much for he reached for another pair of britches. “So, Katy’s back. That ought to make the Sarge bustin’ with happine
ss.”
“By your tone, I’d say you weren’t too happy about it.”
Bangles shrugged and slipped into fresh clothes. “Don’t care one way or t’other. But, that girl makes Sarge miserable, and when he’s miserable, the rest of us suffer for it.”
“How so?”
Bangles narrowed his eyes, obviously trying to discern the validity of Bryce’s interest. “Cuz, she won’t never let him forget.”
Bryce wanted to ask more. The man’s answer was rather cryptic, but he could tell by the way Bangles started strapping on the dirty chaps that the conversation had ended. Bryce understood. He hadn’t earned the right for such confidences, yet. It was a cowboy’s code to keep information at a minimum, until the receiving party had proven their worth.
“You look like you’re in a hurry,” Bryce commented.
“Big storm coming, and I’ve got to move a small herd from a low valley area to a more protected location. I reckon I have a little less than three hours afore that blizzard blows through.”
“Want some help?” Bryce offered, actually looking forward to the thought of working cattle again. A month away from the usual chores had made him soft.
Bangles gave him a lazy look. “Got any experience?”
“Enough.”
“Grab that extra pair of chaps hanging by the door. I ain’t got time to give you lessons, so I hope you know what you’re doin’.”
Bryce grinned. He was more than confident in his abilities, but it was Bangles’ last statement that provided the ironic twist. He knew exactly what he was doing. Bryce planned to ingratiate himself so information about Kaitlin Kanatzer and her father would be forthcoming from Bangles without hesitation or reservation. If Kaitlin wouldn’t tell him the particulars of her life, then he’d find out through other means. He’d already unraveled one mystery. It was time to untangle the rest.
~ * ~
Kaitlin wore her royal blue dress to dinner. The demure style presented a sophisticated image that would hopefully impress her father. He needed to understand she was no longer the little girl who screamed at snakes or cried at monsters hiding beneath her bed. As a grown woman used to taking care of herself, she wasn’t going to let Sarge intimidate her.
She descended the stairs slowly, sore from the horseback ride. With each step, she felt more and more like a stranger to this house. She’d spent her youth here until Sarge had sent her to school in the east. Though she’d resided at the Silver Saddle Ranch, it had never felt like home. Now, she questioned her sanity in returning to the place that had caused so much pain.
Bryce was right. She needed to know, needed to find out if her father was vindictive enough to write those hate letters. Had the old man concocted a plan to lure her back? Did he think to scare her into returning? Her father possessed a cruel vein, but she’d always thought of him as straightforward. She couldn’t imagine him doing something so underhanded.
And James? How did James fit into the equation? Had he plotted with her father? She shook her head, her eyes cast upward. She was unwilling to even voice such a thought. The skin on her fingers tightened, and her stomach clenched with nerves. Her father was alone in the dining room. She would have to face him without the distraction of other, more charming company. Bryce would not draw her away from getting answers this time.
“You look breathtaking,” Sarge murmured as she swept into the room. “Just like your mother did at that age.”
“False flattery from a man who prides himself on being brutally honest?” She hadn’t particularly liked the comparison to her mother.
“There was nothing false about the comment, and I imagine your escort will echo my sentiments.” Sarge inclined his head and gave her a pointed glare.
“Bryce? He abhors lying, so I doubt he’ll give the same compliment. He has very little to gain by soothing my ego in such a manner.”
Sarge held out a chair, inviting her to sit by doing so. “I think you underestimate that man’s interest in you.”
“I don’t really want to talk about Bryce if it’s all the same to you.” She perched on the edge of the seat, unwilling to appear comfortable in his presence. “I want to talk about you, and why you keep sending those letters.”
Sarge’s brow arched. He took a seat opposite her and braced his arms on his knees. “I wrote you several letters in hopes you’d finally see reason and come home where you belong.”
He was either a good actor or was unaware of the other notes she’d been receiving. “Using scare tactics isn’t really your style.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I admit I’m not very good at voicing my thoughts, but I don’t recall ever threatening you.”
She was about to give him an answer when Bryce entered the room, followed by another man. She immediately recognized Bangles and jumped up to give the foreman a heartfelt hug.
“Gosh, it’s so good to see you, Bangles.” She wrapped her arms around the cowboy and squeezed. A strong odor of sweat, horses and hay wafted from him and she smiled. The scent reminded her of better times spent here at the ranch.
“Damn, girl. A bear don’t hug tighter than that,” Bryce replied.
Kaitlin laughed, undaunted by Bryce’s dry wit. She pulled away from Bangles but kept her arm around his waist. “You’re right. A bear hug isn’t enough. Anyone who would stay in Sarge’s employ for as long as Bangles deserves more than a hug. He deserves a great, big kiss.” At that, she grabbed Bangles’ face before he could back away and kissed him hard, but quick, on the lips. It was an act Kaitlin would never have presumed had it not been for Bryce and Sarge. The forwardness of the action caught her off guard, and she stumbled backwards, not knowing how she should proceed now she’d done such a wild and precocious thing. To say the moment was awkward was an understatement.
Bangles turned three shades of red, one shade she’d never seen before. He was such a shy man, and she’d succeeded in making him terribly uncomfortable.
“Bangles, forgive me. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that,” she said, contrite over her lack of manners.
“Shucks, ma’am. I didn’t mind. I just hope you gave Sarge here the same kind of warm welcome. He’s been mighty lonesome for your company.”
She smiled, loving Bangles all the more for trying to smooth over the tense moment.
“I get the impression that little display was especially for our benefit, Sarge.” Bryce took her elbow in a warning grip. “Nothin’ like rubbin’ salt in an old wound by givin’ to someone else what another most hankers for.”
Did he mean himself or Sarge? She wanted to pull free from his grasp but dared not create more of a scene than she already had.
Instead, she smiled brightly at Bryce. “I apologize for showing exuberance in seeing an old friend again. Bangles was always there whenever I needed him.” She shifted her gaze toward the man and smiled softly at him. He’d understood her when her father hadn’t. Whenever Bethany had taunted her cruelly, he’d given her a sympathetic ear. He’d provided solace when she’d cried her heart out over James’s duplicity. He was the one who told her about her mother, and how she’d abandoned them all. She would never hurt Bangles intentionally, and could only attribute her lack of judgment to her need to hurt Sarge. As always, Bryce had put things into perspective. She would have liked it better had his words been less colorful, though.
“You boys ready for some vittles?” Sarge asked, changing the subject quite nicely.
“Hungrier than a grizzly comin’ out of hibernation,” Bryce exclaimed. “But I reckon we both need to freshen up some. Movin’ that herd was harder than I figured. A month of lazin’ around made me soft.”
“Don’t let him kid you, Sarge.” Bangles put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “This man knew what he was about out there. I couldn’t have done it without his help.”
“I appreciate the way you chipped in and lent a hand. We don’t stand on ceremony around here. A man works hard, so I figure he deserves to come to the table
as he is. ’Sides, it’s been just Bangles and me for so long, we don’t worry much over our manners.” Sarge led them to the table that had been laden with an assortment of dishes. A heavenly aroma wafted from a plate of beef enchiladas swimming in gravy, a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, homemade tortillas, and refried beans. The cook, a large Hispanic woman called Vena, had outdone herself. Vaguely, Kaitlin wondered what had happened to the old cook, but she refrained from asking. She didn’t want to appear too interested in Sarge’s current circumstances.
“I enjoyed the activity today. Guess I’m a bit homesick for the Double S,” Bryce commented.
The four of them sat down. Sarge led grace while the rest of them bowed their heads. Silently, Kaitlin asked for patience. Being in her father’s presence always set her on edge. Their relationship was often as hot as the enchiladas Vena served. When the blessing was said, everyone filled their plates. Kaitlin served herself a dainty helping of each dish, while each man in turn heaped piles of food on their plates.
“So, Bryce, tell us about your own encounters working the range. You’re obviously experienced.” Sarge pointed a fork his direction before diving into his food.
“Yes, sir. I’ve been a cowboy all my life. My father owns the Double S down in Brownwood, Texas. We run about nine hundred at any given time.”
“Ever thought about branching off and starting your own ranch?” Sarge asked, and Kaitlin could just imagine where this conversation was headed.
“Well now. I do own my own spread. It just happens to border the Double S. Until I can get fully established, my brothers and I continue to work both outfits together.”
“You never told me that,” Kaitlin said and immediately clamped her mouth shut. Her accusation hinted at an interest in his affairs. She didn’t need her father getting any ideas about the two of them. For that matter, she didn’t need Bryce getting any ideas about the two of them. Since that kiss, she figured he already had enough ideas as it was, and while she found Bryce’s company more stimulating than most, she just wasn’t ready for a commitment.
