by Gold, Ciara
He seemed to understand her dilemma, for he snuggled closer. “I think I’ve waited a lifetime for this moment.” He pulled her head toward him and caught her lips with his own, plundering her mouth with liquid heat.
The billowing nightgown she wore felt cumbersome and restricting. She wanted to feel his warmth next to hers. Tearing her lips from his, she pushed him away and shoved the covers to her waist. He frowned but smiled when she tugged at the ties of her garment. Nervous fingers knotted the fastenings, and he brushed her fingers aside to finish. With each undone tie, he bent his head and pressed a kiss to her exposed skin. Her heart raced with the anticipation of more.
“Lift your arms, sweetheart,” he murmured and she complied.
Within minutes, her body lay exposed to his gaze. Desire stoked the fire in his eyes, and intense heat swept through her. He pulled her into his warmth and cradled her nakedness against his own. The cold room no longer teased her flesh with goose bumps.
“Beautiful.” He suckled a breast, kneading and squeezing until she thought she could take no more.
He lifted his head. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that. You cover your generous curves with plain clothin’, but I knew you hid the mother lode behind all the drab colors. I must be the richest man alive to find such wealth.”
His compliment caused another surge of sensation to flare. She parted her thighs, instinctively knowing where he would touch her next. He settled between her legs. Feeling his hardness brush against her, she throbbed with a need she didn’t understand. He stroked her gently with his fingers, and she lifted her hips, seeking more. His desire made her feel special, wanted, needed. She closed her eyes, letting the heady sensations pour into her soul.
He planted kisses along her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. She arched her back, pulling him tighter to her breast. “Make me warmer, cowboy.”
A chuckled rumbled between them. “I knew you’d approach this new experience with a willin’ heart. Open for me, Katy.”
She clutched at his firm buttocks and guided him. He entered her slowly, allowing her to adjust to the fullness. The gesture wasn’t lost upon her but her passions were inflamed, and she wanted him now. With driving need, she thrust her hips upward. A small cry erupted from her lips at the sudden pain.
He stilled. “Catch your breath. It won’t last long.”
The pain dimmed, to be replaced with wave after wave of throbbing delight. Her eyes widened, and he smiled. Slowly, he set a rhythmic pace, taking her on a journey she would never forget.
~ * ~
They collapsed on the bed, spent. Bryce stared at the ceiling, sated and content. Would she believe him now if he declared his love? Or would his confession fluster her?
He turned on his side and stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She turned into his touch and smiled. “Now I know why women get married.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I what?” Her brows furrowed.
He narrowed his eyes. “Ask me, Katy. Let’s be done with all pretense between us.”
“Pretense? Do you think what just happened was pretense?”
He rolled from the bed and yanked on his long johns. The darn woman put words into his mouth. One minute they shared the most spectacular bedding he’d ever experienced and the next, she tossed accusations at his head.
Well, she could pretend all she wanted, but she’d be his wife if he had to hogtie her and put a gun to her back. The image made him chuckle and calmed his sudden flare of temper. He turned back to her. “What we just shared was very real.”
She dragged the covers to her chin, hiding her nudity. “You make me so confused. I’m a different person when I’m with you.”
“Ah, Katy.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “You’re always so strong, so independent. I promise. You don’t have to give up that part of yourself for me.”
“You make me want things I’ve fought hard to put aside.”
“Marriage? A family?”
She nodded.
“I want those things too.”
“For Charley.” She looked down at the wrinkled sheets.
He shook his head. “For myself and for you.”
God, she was magnificent. With her hair tousled from their lovemaking and her face etched with uncertainty, she looked like a skittish mare. She would not come to the bit easily, yet the gossips cut his time short. In his saddlebag, the two newspaper articles hung heavy over his head and his heart.
He’d hoped she’d see how good they were together and ask him to marry her. Every thinking cell he owned told him she needed to do the proposing. If he showed her the column, would she see reason and understand the need for haste or would she gallop away? He could force the issue. Sarge would not stand by while his daughter’s reputation unraveled one thread at a time.
On the other hand, if she asked now and he accepted, would she think he manipulated her into a proposal once she saw the paper?
All he wanted was to love her, to protect her, to wake up every morning in her arms.
“I know what you want, and I want more than anything to give it to you, but I need time to work past all that’s happened. I don’t trust easy, Bryce, but of all the men I’ve known, you’re the only one I feel comfortable with. I just can’t give you more right now.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “There may not be time.” With that, he finished dressing and padded barefoot to the other room to scrounge up some food. His mind was unsettled as he contemplated his next visit with Sarge. With a heavy sigh, he knew he’d keep the printed lies a secret until Katy could make up her mind about marriage. Eventually, she’d come around. He was sure of it.
Thirty Two
The newspaper was tilted at an angle conducive to farsighted difficulties. The words blurred. Her James was dead. Blurry eyes gazed upward, blinking away tears. She never cried. Ever.
This was different. Her lover was gone and with him, all their dreams. His promises for a successful future faded, buried under a pile of dirt and stone. She wiped at her eyes.
If James hadn’t been so greedy, he’d still be alive, but he was a schemer, a man given to grandiose plans.
She’d loved James since the moment they met, yet he wanted more from life than just love. The man had equated being rich to being successful. He’d cooked up the plan to marry Kaitlin when he’d discovered the value of her land. A quest for riches beyond their wildest dreams had forced him to plot against the woman. Just because he felt Sarge Kanatzer owed him for the tragic loss of his parents and brother, he’d hoped to make Sarge pay through the loss of his beloved daughter. She laughed. The plan would have worked if Kaitlin hadn’t discovered the letters stashed away in James’ room.
James said he’d marry the bitch, watch broken-heartedly while Kaitlin met with an untimely death, then claim the land for his own. A year later, he would be free to marry again. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks at the thought.
She blew her nose and sniffed. If not for the Kanatzers, her James would be alive today.
More specifically, Kaitlin was to blame for his death.
She rifled through a drawer, searching for the missive, the one James had shown her. Where was it? She tore open another drawer and pulled out a stack of papers.
Could she avenge her lover’s death? She frowned, knowing she would be unable to do such a horrendous thing. She abhorred violence. She doubted she could pull the trigger, but she had no compunctions about hiring someone else to do the deed for her. Finding an assassin willing to kill a woman might pose some difficulty, but she wouldn’t let such a trivial thing stop her.
It was just an idea, a whisper of a plan, but the more she thought about it, the more appealing it became. What James had failed to do for her, she was about to do for herself. Riches guaranteed power. With a little planning, she could have both.
Her eyes widened as the plan grew roots. If she thought this through, she might even
gain a new lover in the process. Bryce had turned his attentions to her once. He could be persuaded to do so again, but Bryce didn’t have a claim on Kaitlin’s land—yet. He’d have to marry Kaitlin first. A smile tugged at her lips. Let them wed. Afterwards, poor Kaitlin would get her just rewards.
Giddy with this new idea, James’ Little Em wiped away the tears. She would look upon his passing as a blessing, a gold mine of opportunity.
Thirty Three
Bryce barely had his foot out of the stirrup and safely on the ground before Charley rushed up to him, smiling with childish charm. “You were right, Uncle Bryce. Paw Paw Sarge was glad to see me.”
“Of course, I was glad. She’s the spittin’ image of her mother. It’s almost like having a second chance.” Sarge beamed from ear to ear.
“Hi, Charley,” Katy greeted, handing the reins to one of the hands.
Bryce grinned when Katy opened her arms and beckoned the child for a hug.
“I missed you,” Katy said.
Charley flew into her embrace. “I guess I missed you too, Aunt Katy. I didn’t mind staying with Maggie, but she was too wrapped up in her new boyfriend to give me much time. She did teach me how to use your sewing machine, though. That’s the neatest thing. I made a pillow case.”
“And I’m sure you did a fine job of it.”
For Bryce, the exchanged pleasantries helped mask his worry. He’d been so sure he could wrangle a proposal out of Katy, but as usual, she proved contrary. On the other hand, he’d hoped this morning had meant as much to her as it had to him. A heady warmth invaded his emotions. He no longer thought of her as Kaitlin. After this morning, not only would he call her Katy, but he would also think about her as Katy.
“When we get back to Denver, I’ll show you some fancy stitching. In fact, I’ll let you pick out material and help you make your own dress,” Katy offered.
Charley’s eyes grew bright with excitement. “Really? Did you hear that? Aunt Katy’s gonna help me make my own dress. Thanks, Bryce. Thanks for making me come here.”
“You’re welcome.”
Charley turned an expectant gaze on Sarge. “I brought my sewn piece along. Want to see?”
“Of course I do.”
“Can I fetch it, Uncle Bryce?” Charley asked and he nodded. The extra items that hadn’t fit in her bags had been stuffed into his saddlebags.
She scampered into the house while the adults slowly followed. Her brief absence gave Katy an opportunity to exchange a few words with Sarge. Her tone was cordial but somewhat restrained. She still didn’t trust the blossoming relationship between herself and her father. Bryce understood her reticence. Sarge, gruff with his answers, seemed pleased nonetheless.
Charley found them in the dining room, the pillowcase clutched in one hand and a familiar newspaper tucked under the other arm. Bryce shook his head, not yet wanting Katy to be privy to the contents.
“I brung my pillowcase, but I also brung those articles Bryce wanted you to see, Grandpa.”
“Charley, let’s not bother him with those now. Maybe later. Now we’re all trying to jabber some and enjoy each other’s company.”
“But you said...”
“Charley,” he said, the warning tone meant to make her mind.
Katy smiled. “Come now, Bryce. It must be important for Charley to think about bringing them to our attention.” She held out her hand and Charley obliged, placing the articles tentatively in her palm.
Bryce stared at a chipped cup perched on the top shelf of the china cabinet. Perhaps, this would be for the best. Once Katy read the horrible gossip, she’d see reason.
Regardless, he didn’t want to pull rank, didn’t want to force her hand, but he felt sure Sarge would think differently. Bryce could weather the scandal, but the current situation wasn’t fair to her father. The negative gossip would rip the old man apart. Oh, Sarge tried to dominate and control, but Bryce had seen the vulnerability the rancher tried to hide. He’d outlasted his youth, and the years wore on him.
The paper rustled as Katy scanned the contents. The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever. Bryce shifted his weight and groaned at the pain in his right foot. Charley busied herself showing Sarge her handiwork, but Sarge’s attention drifted often to Katy and the expressionless mask she wore.
“So,” Sarge began. “You find out anything important in that paper, Katy?”
“Come on, Charley,” Bryce said. “I think there’s a new litter of kittens in the barn. We can go check them out while Katy and her father talk.”
Katy snapped her head back and speared him with an intense glare. “I think you best stay. Charley can find the barn by herself.”
He tugged at his mustache. “Why?”
“I think you know why.”
He gave her a baleful eye. “I think I’d rather go with Charley.”
“Never would have taken you for skittish,” she commented wryly.
“Not skittish, just wise enough to avoid fireworks when possible.” He turned to Charley. “Run along and check out those kittens. Bangles is probably close by, and he can help you find them.”
“I know.” Charley threw her hands in the air. “That’s my cue to get lost so the grownups can talk. It’s a good thing I like kittens.”
Sarge laughed. “That child has spunk. Thanks for bringing her to meet me, Bryce. I’m beholden to you for taking her in and providing for her.”
“My pleasure. As difficult as she can be at times, she’s a true treasure.”
“So, what’s in those columns that has Katy so riled?” Sarge asked when Charley had left.
“I’m not riled. No.” She crushed the papers in her hands and shook her head. “I’m more hurt than riled. How could this have happened?”
“I never thought to hurt you, Katy.” Bryce said. “I only wanted to protect you. Guess I never thought anyone would take note of our actions so far from Denver. Sidney Manard, editor and owner of the Denver Express, had you followed. It seems you’re somewhat of a celebrity in Denver, and he wanted a story.”
She held her expressions carefully schooled as she skimmed the malicious gossip. When she finished, her arm dropped to her side, the paper firmly gripped between stiff fingers. “Well, this doesn’t mean anything. People will either believe the paper or me. And the only ones that truly matter are my friends, and if they’re my friends, they’ll side with me.”
“Spoken like the almighty Kaitlin Kanatzer, leader of women.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t recall you using sarcasm to make a point.”
“I learned that trick from you.” With a deep sigh of resignation, Bryce gently steered Katy toward a chair at the dining room table. “Let’s sit. This is goin’ to be a long discussion.”
Sarge planted himself at the head of the table. “Well?”
“Hand him the paper, Katy.”
She clutched them to her breast. “No. He’ll only be infuriated. It’s not good for his heart.”
“Kaitlin Marie, you do as he says. I won’t be denied in my own home.” Sarge held out his hand, demanding she relinquish the papers.
She slapped both newspapers in his hand and huffed. “Enjoy, but don’t even think to pull rank on me and demand something I’m not yet willing to give.”
Though Bryce had expected her obstinate refusal concerning the obvious solution, her sharp words still hurt. He hardened his heart. “Gossip aside, I think we need to delve deeper into your problems. Those articles didn’t write themselves. Someone wanted to damage your reputation, and they’ve done a dang fine job of it.”
At this, Sarge lifted his eyes briefly before reading more. His facial features contorted into a grimace.
Katy gave Bryce a mutinous glare. “I’ve told you all you need to know.”
He ignored her outburst. “Let’s start with James Latham. Your dead fiancé.”
“What good will that do?”
Sarge lifted his head, his gaze hard and unrelenting. “Answer the
man. This isn’t up for debate anymore.”
When she didn’t answer right away, Bryce gave her a prompt. “James wanted somethin’ from you. He came to visit you in Denver shortly after you moved there. He wanted to convince you to go through with the weddin’. You and he had words. What did you fight about?”
“I would think that’s quite obvious.” She straightened her spine, sitting on the edge of the seat, stiff and reserved. “He wanted me to marry him. I told him no. What more do you want me to say?”
“Why? Why would he want to marry you after all that had happened? He waited six months before tracking you down. A man in love doesn’t wait six months.”
“He never loved me. How could he?” She clasped her hands in front of her and looked away. “He had his Little Em on the side.”
“Little Em?”
She stared at the ceiling and swallowed. “His mistress.”
“How did you find out?”
“James was living in the one-room cabin near the barn until we married. He’d been working long hours, trying to get our first herd ready for market. I...I wanted to help him as much as I could, so I thought to tidy his room.”
“And you found evidence to suggest...”
“A liaison? Oh yes. I found a stack of letters all signed with a little ‘m.’ When I confronted him, he laughed. He thought it funny I referred to the mystery woman as Little Em, but he never would tell me her real identity. He just shrugged his shoulders and denied my allegations. He made up some story that I bought because I wanted so much to believe I was wrong.”
“So what made you change your mind?” Bryce understood her pain, knowing what it cost to open up, but her recitation of the events could lead them to the truth.
“I’ve already told you more than I wanted to. Why are you doing this?” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “What good would it do to dredge up old heartache?” She shifted her gaze to her father, obviously looking for his support. “Sarge? This whole discussion is pointless.”
Sarge searched Bryce’s face before answering. “Humor the man. I think he may be onto something.”
