The Taming of Tyler Kincaid

by Sandra Marton

  Her mouth trembled as she led the mare from the stable. It was the same horse she’d been riding the day she’d almost run Tyler down. If only she hadn’t gone riding that day. If only she’d ridden toward the hills, not toward the road.

  Caitlin gave herself a shake. What was that old expression about not crying over spilled milk? You couldn’t change the past. The future was what mattered, and her future was going to be wonderful.

  Espada would be hers.

  The mare whinnied and tossed her head.

  “Easy, girl,” Caitlin said softly, as she lay the saddle on the animal’s back.

  She’d always loved the quiet of early morning down at the stables. The grass, still wet with dew; the sun, warm on her face…all the creatures that called Espada home were stirring and stretching as the new day began.

  Less than a week ago, she’d stirred and stretched in Tyler’s arms. She’d greeted the dawn of another day with his kisses on her lips, his hands on her skin…

  The mare snorted and danced sideways.

  “Sorry,” Caitlin murmured, and let out the cinch strap.

  Thinking about that night, and that morning, was pointless. They’d happened and now they were over. And the sooner she stopped wondering why Tyler was doing this to her, the better.

  “Mornin’, Jonas.”

  She looked up. Jonas had joined Abel at the corral. His smile was almost as broad as the brim of his Stetson.

  Her stepfather had been doing a lot of smiling lately, although he certainly hadn’t been smiling when she’d returned to Espada on Sunday. She’d made the drive more on instinct than anything else, her heart filled with Tyler, her body still singing with their commingled passion. The world had seemed perfect—until she’d spotted Jonas, sitting on the front steps of the house, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth and a scowl as dark as a thundercloud on his face.

  She’d killed the engine, stepped down from the cab of her pickup truck and hesitated. She’d told herself not to be a fool. She was a grown woman, and if she wanted to stay out all night with a man Jonas didn’t like, that was her business.

  So she’d shut the truck door, squared her shoulders and walked briskly toward the house.

  “Good morning,” she’d said, and started past him, but Jonas had risen to his feet and blocked her passage.

  “You know what time it is, missy?”

  “Ten,” she answered pleasantly, after a glance at her watch. “And I promised Abel I’d help him with the new stud, so if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Looks to me as if you’ve already been dealin’ with the new stud.”

  Caitlin felt her cheeks burn, but her gaze was unflinching as it met her stepfather’s.

  “Don’t,” she said softly. “Please, don’t say anything we’ll both regret.”

  “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ but the truth. You been with Kincaid.”

  “Yes. I was with Tyler. And it has nothing to do with you.”

  Jonas spat the cigar into the grass. “It has everythin’ to do with me, girl, and with Espada. I’ve been tryin’ to tell you, Kincaid is no good. He come here after somethin’ that ain’t his to take.”

  “It’s me he wants,” she’d said softly. “Me, Jonas. Is that so difficult for you to accept?”

  “You tell him I’ve decided to will Espada to you?”

  The unease that had scrabbled at the edges of her mind during the drive home reached out for her, but she forced it aside.

  “Believe it or not, Espada was hardly on our agenda.”

  Jonas grasped her arm. “Answer me, girl. Did you tell him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And? What’d he say?”

  Nothing. That was what Tyler had said. He’d simply looked at her, his face expressionless. Then he’d lifted her from his lap, set her on her feet and walked into the house.

  “Tyler?” she’d said, staring after him, and he’d stopped, turned back, taken her in his arms and kissed her.

  “Sorry,” he’d murmured, holding her close. After a minute, she’d felt his body harden and he’d made love to her again, not gently but hard and fast so that when it was over, she’d been clinging to him, her skin flushed and damp, her breathing rapid. “Cait,” he’d whispered, “Cait, forgive me,” and she’d taken his face in her hands and told him there was nothing to forgive, that it had been exciting, being taken that way.

  Staring into her stepfather’s pale, chilly eyes that Sunday morning, she’d forced herself not to think of anything but Tyler, didn’t let herself dwell on why Tyler hadn’t responded to her wonderful news about Espada, why he’d made love to her with such desperation…

  Why he’d asked her to forgive him.

  She’d looked Jonas in the eye and told him to mind his own damned business. Then she’d gone into the house, up to her room, and phoned Tyler…

  Phoned him, and reached his answering machine, the same as she’d reached it twice more before she’d realized he didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t intend to return her calls or to see her again.

  “Goin’ ridin’?”

  Caitlin looked up. Jonas was strolling toward her, smiling pleasantly.

  “Uh-huh.” She made the final adjustments to the mare’s saddle and swung up into it. “She needs a good workout. I figured I’d take her out for a while.”

  “Well, you be back by lunchtime, you hear?” Jonas grinned. “Got a surprise for you.”

  “I’ll be back.” She touched her heels to the animal’s sides but before she could move out, her stepfather grabbed the bridle.

  “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  Caitlin forced a smile. “It wouldn’t be a surprise, if I knew.”

  Jonas chuckled. “Spoken like a true Baron,” he said, and let go of the bridle.

  A true Baron, Caitlin thought, and clucked softly to the mare. Was that what she was now? She must be; only a true Baron could inherit Espada. She waited for the rush of pleasure that should have accompanied the realization but it wasn’t there. She hadn’t felt pleasure over anything, not in days, not since she’d let herself face the truth, that Tyler wasn’t going to call, that all she’d been was a one-night stand, a woman he’d leched after and, once he’d gotten what he’d wanted, there’d be nothing more.

  The mare was edgy. Hell, so was she.

  “Okay,” Caitlin said, and gave the animal its head.

  The mare headed for the northern hills that rimmed Espada’s lush grazing land at a trot. Caitlin touched her heels to the horse’s flanks and urged it into a gallop. A hot wind slapped at her face, lifted the damp curls from her forehead and she blanked her mind to everything but the heat, the horse and the scents of the meadow.

  After a while, she slowed the pace to a trot, then to a walk. Caitlin leaned forward, patted the mare’s arched neck. She and Abel had discussed the animal last night and decided it was time she gave Espada a foal.

  “Pretty soon now,” Caitlin said softly, “I’m going to introduce you to that handsome stud in the last stall.” The mare’s ears twitched. “Just take my advice, girl. Enjoy yourself—but don’t believe a thing he says.”

  The mare whinnied and Caitlin laughed, but the laugh caught in her throat and became a sob. She threw back her head and glared at the cloudless sky.

  “Damn you to hell, Tyler Kincaid,” she said. “Damn you to hell, forever.”

  Then she leaned forward, tightened her grasp on the reins and set the animal into a hard, fast gallop.

  * * *

  Tyler stood on the patio of his house in the Texas hills and stared out across the land.

  An Express Delivery box had arrived that morning. It lay on the table behind him. He’d emptied it and now everything he’d spent a lifetime searching for lay neatly stacked inside his briefcase.

  “I have everything you’ll need, sir,” the P.I. had told him when he’d called.

  He sure as hell did.

  There was a sworn statement from the woman who’d served
as receptionist to the doctor who’d delivered a live male infant to Juanita Baron on July 18, thirty-five years before. Another from the doctor’s wife, who’d listened to her husband’s deathbed, guilt-ridden confession of his complicity in reporting the supposed stillbirth of that same infant boy.

  And there was the most damning bit of evidence of all.

  There, in that neat pile of papers, were documents that bore the name of the drifter who’d come onto the Baron ranch and into Juanita’s life, all those years ago. There was little doubt he’d been her friend, her confidant…but not the father of her child. The private investigator had not only found the drifter’s name, but he’d also found his history. The man had been in the army. He’d had medical records…

  Medical records that made it clear the drifter could never have fathered a child. He’d suffered a hideous wound, while serving in the army—a wound that had, without question, left him sterile.

  There was no doubt about it now. DNA tests, blood tests, Tyler would demand all of it, but the results would only confirm the truth.

  Jonas Baron was his father.

  Tyler swung away from the placid meadow and the rolling hills.

  “Damn you to hell, you son of a bitch,” he shouted, but the angry imprecation did nothing to relieve the pain and rage inside him. He pounded his fist on the glass-topped patio table but the glass was tempered and wouldn’t break. And he wanted it to break, wanted to see it break, shatter into a thousand pieces, the way his life had been shattered.

  And his heart.

  If only he’d never begun this damned stupid quest for closure. If only he’d accepted Adrianna’s birthday gift. If only he’d accepted his life. Most men would have been pleased with what he’d accomplished. The wealth. The power. The name people respected, and what did it matter if he’d created his name himself? He was Tyler Kincaid. The boy named John Smith was long-gone.

  Except, there’d never been a John Smith. There’d been a boy born to Jonas and Juanita Baron, and the boy’s mother had died knowing his father intended to abandon him.

  Tyler picked up his briefcase, walked down the patio steps and across the grass.

  A couple of weeks ago, the investigator’s report would have had him cheering. He’d have had all the answers he needed, all the proof he wanted before he took his revenge on Jonas Baron.

  And then he’d fallen in love with Caitlin.

  What sense was there in denying the truth? He loved her, and once he did what he’d come here to do, she would hate him. He was going to destroy the stepfather she loved, make enemies of the brothers she adored and he’d never known, and strip her of the thing that was as much a part of her as her soul.

  Espada.

  “Jonas is willing Espada to me,” she’d told him, and when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d known she was telling him something she thought wonderful.

  Tyler stood still, his arms at his sides, his head bowed.

  They said a drowning man’s life flashed before his eyes but he knew now that you didn’t have to feel your lungs filling with water for that to happen. The old man was naming her the heir to Espada, she’d said, and Tyler had seen a score of images blaze to life inside his head. Himself, the night of his birthday party. The private investigator, when he’d promised to get all the facts. Jonas, boasting of how he’d tormented his first wife by telling her he’d give her child away. Caitlin, oh, Caitlin, her lovely face taut with passion as he took her virginity.

  And, at the last, he’d seen the face of a woman he’d never known, a woman who’d given her life for his.

  How could he abandon Juanita Baron? How could he dismiss her sacrifice and walk away? Closure? Closure didn’t matter anymore. He’d come looking for some sordid little tale about a girl who’d gotten herself knocked up but he’d found a story that might have come out of the old Greek tragedies. A despairing wife. A cruel husband. A child whose first breath was taken as his mother’s last breath left her body…

  “Oh, God,” Tyler whispered, lifting his face to the sky.

  If he took Espada, he would break Caitlin’s heart.

  If he didn’t, he’d never be able to live with the knowledge that he’d failed the woman who’d given him life.

  He turned and stared blindly back at the house, at the patio where he’d held Caitlin in his arms and made love to her.

  If only he’d told her everything that morning. The truth about himself. About his past, as ugly as it was. About what he intended to do. What he had to do. Most of all, most of all, he should have told her that he loved her.

  She loved him, too. He knew it. Her love for him had shone in her eyes. Her kisses had tasted of it.

  All right. She loved Espada. But maybe—maybe, she loved him more.

  Tyler drew a deep breath, then let it out.

  He’d sat in the dark, listening to her sweet voice on his answering machine. That first message, bright and joyful. The second, less certain but still loving. And the last message, when she’d said she’d understand if he didn’t return her call…

  Hell, no. She didn’t understand. How could she? And how could he simply turn his back and walk away from her?

  “I love you, Cait,” he whispered.

  The words seemed foreign as he spoke them. He’d never said them to another woman. Hell, he’d never said them to another human being.

  She did love him. She did. He was sure of it. Okay. Okay, he thought, as he ran his hands through his hair, he wasn’t sure. How could he be, when he’d never let her say the words, never said them to her?

  It wasn’t too late. But it was risky.

  What if he was wrong? If she didn’t love him? If what he’d seen glowing in her face was just the joy of a woman sexually fulfilled?

  Tyler swallowed hard. He’d never know, unless he asked. Unless he took the risk. Dammit, he’d spent his life risking his neck, risking his wealth and his corporations. Admitting his love for Caitlin, counting on her love for him being its equal, would be the greatest risk he’d ever taken. If he was wrong…

  If he was wrong, he’d lose her. But he’d lose her anyway, if he did nothing. And if he was right and she loved him, if she’d stand by him, once she knew the truth…

  Tyler jumped into his truck, put it in gear and took it to its top speed in nothing flat.

  * * *

  Marta flung open the door as Caitlin came up the steps.

  “There you are,” she said, and put an arm around her stepdaughter’s shoulders. “We held lunch for you.”

  Caitlin smiled. “You shouldn’t have bothered. Actually I’m not even hungry.”

  “Actually,” a deep voice said, “you’re as skinny as a beanpole, sugar.”

  Caitlin squealed with delight and launched herself into Slade Baron’s arms. “Slade,” she laughed. “Slade, what a wonderful surprise.”

  “You just turn around, darlin’, if you want to feast your eyes on a really wonderful surprise.”

  Caitlin spun out of Slade’s arms. “Travis?”

  “You bet,” Travis Baron said, grinning as he opened his arms to his stepsister.

  “Listen here, babe. You want the best surprise of all? Just take a gander at me.”

  Caitlin clapped her hand to her heart. “Gage,” she said, and flung her arms around the neck of her youngest brother. “Gage, I can’t believe it!”

  Jonas, standing behind his three sons, gave a gravelly laugh. “Didn’t I tell you I had somethin’ special for you, missy?”

  “Yes, but I never dreamed…” Caitlin smiled, kissed Travis again, grabbed hold of Gage and Slade and led them into the library as Marta made a discreet exit. “What are you guys doing here? How’d you all manage to get away at the same time? Where are Alexandra, and Natalie, and Lara? Gage, where’s my gorgeous new niece? And Slade, where’s my beautiful nephew? Travis, isn’t Alex due any day now?”

  The Barons all laughed. “That’s our Catie,” Gage said. “Always askin’ a hundred questions in the time it woul
d take most folks to ask one.”

  Caitlin sat down in the middle of a leather sofa. Slade took up residence in one corner, Travis in the other. Gage pulled the straight-back chair out from behind Jonas’s desk, swung it around, straddled it and folded his arms along the top.

  “Jes’ make yourselves at home,” Jonas said sarcastically.

  His sons looked at each other. “Thanks,” Slade said lazily. “We already have.” He cleared his throat. “So, Catie darlin’, how’re you doin’?”

  Not so good, she almost said, but caught herself in time. This unexpected visit was too wonderful to spoil and besides, her love life wasn’t her stepbrothers’ problem.

  “I’m doing just fine.” Her smile took in all three of them. “And you guys?”

  “Oh, fine,” Gage said.

  Travis and Slade both nodded. “Fine,” they said, in unison.

  “And my wonderful sisters-in-law? My nephew? My niece?” She looked at Travis. “Do we get to know the sex of yours ahead of time, or what?”

  He grinned. “Alex wants to do this the old-fashioned way. She told the doctor to keep the information to himself.”

  Caitlin laughed. “Good for her. Oh, I wish they’d all come with you. I wish…” She saw the three men glance at each other and the realization came, hard and fast. This wasn’t just a visit, it was a meeting. She looked at Jonas. “Jonas? Is this about—is it about—”

  “Espada.” Jonas nodded as he opened a bottle of bourbon. “It sure is.”

  “Oh.” Color rushed to her face. It was silly, but she suddenly felt flustered. “You told them?”

  “I did.”

  She looked at the faces of the men she loved as much as if they really shared the same blood, hoping to read something in their expressions, but she couldn’t.

  “Guys, look, if any of you has changed his mind, if you want Espada, I’ll understand. I mean, I’ll be pleased, because you all certainly deserve the land more than I do—”

  “Sugar,” Slade said gently, “we couldn’t be happier.”

  She nodded. “I’m glad, because I’d never want to take anything from any of you.”

  Gage reached out and took her hand. “We’re happy for you, Catie.”