by Karen Rock
She nudged the toe of his boot in approval and he winked at her, smiling slightly, as he munched a slice of bacon. A warmth started in her torso and spread to the tips of her fingers and toes. Carbonated sunshine. He was more delicious than the food.
“Is that the area you’re looking at?” Boyd pointed the end of his spoon at the black circle on the map.
When Cole nodded, Boyd rubbed his jaw. “Huh.”
“Hey, Pa.” Sierra swooped into the kitchen, kissed her pa’s cheek and filched a slice of bacon from Cole’s plate. A short-haired tabby trotted at her heels. “Are you still coming into the clinic with me to look at the bald eagle? We’re releasing him today, so this is your last chance.”
Boyd continued staring down at the map.
“Pa?” Sierra waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay? I mean, we should have apologized about the fight before now, but we’re all sorry about the softball game, and we won’t shame you at the wedding. Promise.”
Boyd lifted his head and offered up a slight smile. “Appreciate that, darlin’.”
“Can I get anyone some juice?” Sierra called as she headed to the fridge.
“I’ll have some.” Cole studied his father, who’d returned his undivided attention to the map. “What is it, Pa?”
Boyd’s forehead furrowed. “It’s just... I’ve had an offer to buy this exact section of land. Several times.”
Surprised, Katlynn swallowed her coffee wrong and choked. Cole raced around the table, eyeing her closely until she stopped coughing. A napkin materialized before her streaming eyes, dabbing at her tears.
“You okay?” he asked beneath his breath, passing her his glass of water before sitting in the chair beside her.
“Fine, thanks.”
Beneath the table, Cole’s large hand cupped hers, holding it gently as if it were a priceless object he didn’t want to drop. The tenderness of his touch tripped up her heart.
Sierra dropped into a chair on Katlynn’s opposite side. “Thought I was going to have to perform the Heimlich. I’ve never done it on a human before.”
Katlynn glanced at the map’s circled areas. Who’d offered to buy the track? Was it a coincidence or something else? And how to think straight when Cole was driving her crazy with this secret hand-holding?
“Pa? You okay?” Sierra prompted.
Boyd passed a hand over his face. “Just got some things to think on.”
“You’re not planning on selling that land, are you?” Cole was back at the stove now, peeling more bacon from the package and dropping it into the pan. At the tabby’s meow, he slipped it a piece.
“Would help us out,” Boyd mused.
“We don’t break up Loveland Hills,” Cole insisted, his broad shoulders tense.
“It’s a high offer.” Boyd lifted his coffee mug and drained it. To Katlynn’s eye, his hand shook slightly.
His financial troubles must surely be weighing on him. If they could find Cora’s Tear, broker a deal to return the easement rights, the pressure of living on the brink of bankruptcy would end for this deserving family.
“How much?” Cole tapped an egg on the side of the fry pan and turned.
“Funny thing is, when word got out that Katlynn was here to do the story, the buyer upped his offer again.” When Boyd named an exorbitant amount, Cole’s egg splatted to the floor.
“That’d sure make things easier around here.” Sierra finished her juice, grabbed her bag and pulled on her boots. “You coming, Pa?”
Boyd nodded and rose.
“Why’d anyone pay such a crazy amount?” Katlynn mopped up the broken egg then chucked the sodden paper towel in the trash. “I don’t know the going rate for land around here anymore, but...”
“Hasn’t changed much. The natural springs are a plus, I reckon.” Cole folded his arms across his chest, his finger tapping the pronounced curve of his biceps. “Who’s the buyer?”
Warm spring air curled through the room when Sierra eased open the door. “Must be an out-of-towner. Maybe one of those fracking outfits?” She ushered the cat outside then followed.
Boyd fiddled with the brim of his hat before settling it on his head. “That’s the strange thing. The man’s local and his family’s been after this property for generations.”
A strange premonition lifted the tiny hairs on Katlynn’s arms. “Who?”
“Clyde William Farthington, the fourth.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
COLE LOOSENED HIS death grip on Cash’s reins and turned him down a lane of flowering apple trees. Since Pa’s revelation, a sense of bewilderment seized him. His mind whirled, his thoughts jumbled puzzle pieces. Once he fit them together, they’d reveal the big picture. His gut told him Pa’s disclosure brought them closer to solving the mystery of what’d happened to Everett, Maggie and Cora’s Tear. But how?
“Clyde William Farthington,” Katlynn mused aloud as they ducked beneath low-hanging tree branches. “Why would he want this section of land? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“No.” Cole jerked sideways when a honeybee whizzed by his ear, racing for the pink blossoms permeating the air with a thick, heady scent.
“So, what’s the connection?” When they walked down a slope and encountered a brook, Katie-Lynn’s white gelding, Spirit, sidestepped, balking. She controlled her skittish mount and guided him over the water, easy as pie. Being away hadn’t done her horsemanship any harm. “Clyde’s ancestor was engaged to Maggie Cade.”
“And he knew about her and Everett.” Cole waved Katie-Lynn ahead when the trail narrowed, and patted Cash’s steaming neck while they waited. It was hotter than blue blazes, the unseasonable warm weather continuing for its fourth day. They’d been riding under full sun for an hour now to reach one of the natural springs on the survey map.
“Clyde didn’t care about Maggie’s pregnancy.” Katie-Lynn peered over her shoulder at him, her pretty, freshly scrubbed face framed by her white cowboy hat. “How strange to claim a child that wasn’t his.”
“He needed an heir. Maggie wrote his previous two wives were infertile.”
“And they died in bizarre accidents. Suspicious, don’t you think?”
Cole watched Katie-Lynn’s trim back and narrow waist as she swayed gracefully in the saddle ahead of him. She looked all sorts of pretty in her frayed jeans and yellow T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a loose braid with a daisy clip. And those little black leather boots...for some reason they drove him crazy. His fingers curled around the reins again, itching to touch her. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell her...
Tell her what?
“Cole?” Katie-Lynn prompted without turning.
He cleared his throat—and his head. “One wife drowned. The other fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck. Sounds suspicious.”
“They were rich heiresses, and he had a lot to gain from their deaths. He took their money, killed them when they didn’t give him a child, then moved on to someone who could.”
“That’s a statement right out of an episode of Scandalous History. Has anyone ever told you that you look like its host?”
“All the time.”
Their laughter carried in the wind, and Cole got lost in the sound of Katie-Lynn’s joy. It wove around him like a spell, gripping his heart, making him long for things he knew he could never have...
“Maybe I should open the show with that line,” she teased.
“It’s a keeper,” he drawled.
Cash’s hooves skidded on a mossy rock. Cursing himself for not paying better attention, Cole directed Cash from the path’s edge. The patch of Scotch pines they passed beneath blocked the sun and created a temporary dim, cool spot. “Cora’s Tear was Maggie’s dowry.”
“It would have solved Clyde’s audit problem if his company was under scrutiny.”
Cash pulled up alongside Katie-Lynn when they
emerged onto the side of a dense, purple-covered hill of flagrant columbine. “We’ll know tomorrow when we get the records.”
Katie-Lynn closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Her white-gold braid fell past her shoulders, and the smooth expanse of her neck drew his eye. Never in his life had he found anyone or anything as beautiful as Katie-Lynn.
“This is heaven.” When she opened her blue eyes, they met his then slid away. “I forgot what this feels like.”
He nudged Cash closer, so his leg brushed hers. “How what feels like?”
“To be lost in something grand, to wonder at the incredible instead of trying to be that wonder.”
His eyebrows rose at her revealing statement. It gave him hope, and an opening. “You’re not happy in LA.”
Her head snapped around. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Then tell me...what makes you happy there?”
“The people.”
“You have a lot of friends? People you can trust?”
Katie-Lynn fiddled with the scalloped neckline of her shirt. “Nobody trusts anybody in Hollywood.”
“Why’s that?”
“Everyone wants something... It’s hard to tell if someone’s being nice because they like you or need a favor.”
“And these are your friends?” he chided.
Spirit shook his head, as if in agreement, freeing himself from a tormenting fly.
Katie-Lynn shrugged. “There’s so much more to do there. Parties, restaurants, events...”
“You don’t eat. Or at least you didn’t when you first came home.” He tore his eyes from her troubled face and watched butterflies dance above the columbines’ white/yellow centers.
“There are certain expectations—of who you need to be.”
“Being yourself isn’t good enough?”
“No.”
“So not being yourself, starving and having no real friends makes you happy? Sounds lonely.”
Katie-Lynn leaned forward, threw her arms around Spirit’s neck and rested her head against him. “I’m successful there.”
“And that’s enough?”
She buried her face in Spirit’s silver mane.
“Katie-Lynn.” He slid his hand down the length of her slim arm and twined his fingers in hers. “Is it enough?”
She straightened and stared down at their joined hands. Loaded silence. Then she whispered, “No.” Her eyes flitted up to his. A few strands of her golden hair had come out of her braid and were blowing lightly across her cheek. She stole his breath. Each and every time he looked at her, she stole his breath.
His heart, too.
“Nothing’s ever been enough except—except when I’m with you.”
Her admission was like an earthquake running through him. His mind, his heart, cracked in two. He hadn’t known how much he’d needed to hear those words until this moment. They erased the long, lonely twelve years he’d spent without her as if waking him from a bad dream. “Katie-Lynn.” He lifted their hands and pressed his lips against her knuckles, holding her hand there. “Nothing’s enough without you, either.”
Having her so close, with her fresh scent enveloping him, the warmth of her skin pressed against his mouth, made his blood rush through his veins like liquid fire. With a groan, he leaned over to cup the back of her head, angling it up to his. Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks, and she lifted her mouth.
A rattle sounded from the bushes nearby. Cole tensed at the familiar, deadly sound. Cash reared slightly. Spirit scrambled backward. They fought to control their mounts when an enormous diamondback coiled in front of them, within striking distance.
Cash snorted, and Spirit whinnied, both horses dancing nervously on the trail. “Easy, boy. Easy.” Cole drew his pistol slowly, staring intently at the poisonous snake. Its venom killed in minutes. The snake’s head rose, its tail shaking, not backing down. With lightning speed, it lashed out at Spirit.
Cole squeezed the trigger.
The snake, shot through the head, collapsed to the ground. A spooked Spirit lit out, galloping pell-mell through the field. Katie-Lynn’s scream pierced his heart like a stake. The horse had taken control and was in no mood to give it back.
“Hi-yah!” Cole kicked Cash and leaned low over his head, racing flat out after the runaway gelding. His pulse roared in his ears, his heart exploding in his chest. Just over the hill was a drop-off high enough to kill Katie-Lynn and her horse if she couldn’t redirect Spirit in time.
Katie-Lynn pulled on the reins to little effect. Her hat blew off her head, and her braid streamed behind her. “Whoa! Whoa!” she shouted. Spirit’s hooves ate up the ground, kicking up dirt as he flew from one danger straight into another.
“Come on, boy!” Cole urged Cash on, harder still, asking him for everything he had left in him. They were gaining on Spirit, but not fast enough. The drop-off loomed.
“Oh, my God!” Katie-Lynn cried when she spotted the ledge.
“I’ve got you!” Cole hollered, grabbing for Spirit’s reins. Thirty or so more strides and she’d go right over. His hands swatted air. The leather straps danced just out of reach.
Cole’s muscles tensed as he rose in the saddle, preparing to grab Spirt’s reins. No room for error. He had to time this exactly or he’d lose Katie-Lynn just as Everett had lost Maggie. Leaning forward, he snatched up the reins and forced his mind to relax despite the approaching edge. A runaway horse had to be guided, not stopped. Trying to halt it was futile since it was too frightened to cooperate. Even if he could pull hard enough on one rein to double back, he’d handicap Spirit, making the gelding lose his balance and topple them over the edge regardless. If he yanked on both reins, the extreme pressure would become something else Spirit thought he needed to escape.
No.
Cole had to allow Spirit to see where he was going and keep his legs under him, or he’d panic further.
“Don’t clamp your thighs,” Cole shouted at Katie-Lynn as Spirit’s hooves thundered on the hard ground. Any move Spirit made could bounce a braced rider loose. Cole eyed the nearing ledge, the wind whistling in his ear. They could easily sail right over.
Don’t think. Do.
Cole blacked out the looming cliff and pictured himself riding through a field, confidently guiding Spirit, controlling his emotions. Next, he focused on the rhythm of his breathing, then on the rhythm of Spirit’s surges.
“No,” Katie-Lynn sobbed as the heart-stopping drop-off yawned before them, a vast valley nearly at their feet.
Only ten strides away...
“Don’t cry, Katie-Lynn,” he urged. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He began tugging on the reins a little each time Spirit surged, then relaxed his grip to allow the stride, putting himself in time with the horse’s gait and focusing Spirit’s attention back on him so he heeded his master.
Seven strides...
Gradually, Cole gained control and began shaping Spirit’s strides instead of just riding alongside them.
Three strides...
Katie-Lynn clutched the saddle horn, her mouth a silent “O” of terror as the edge flashed up at Spirit’s hooves. Cole cried, “Whoa!” and pulled harder on the reins at the last possible minute.
Miraculously, Spirit stopped, sides heaving, his head hanging over the precipice before he backed up a few paces. Cole leaped off Cash then hauled Katie-Lynn into his arms. Her body quaked against his, and he smoothed his hands down her back. “Shhhhhh...darlin’,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
But you could have lost her.
This time, forever...
“We almost died.” She buried her head in the space where his neck met his shoulder.
He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her damp face up to meet his. Their eyes met for one earth-quaking moment. “B
ut we didn’t.”
“Or we did and this—this is heaven.” She gazed up at him through spiked lashes. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Could say I’ve become rather attached to it.”
She laughed, and the sound was sweeter than music. It was the thing he’d missed most about Katie-Lynn, her free-spirited laughter. She reached up to stroke his cheek. “Guess that makes me a lucky girl.”
His pulse pounded in his temples; his head spun. The rational part of his brain sort of shorted out the moment her hand touched his face. Common sense? Out the window. Prudence? What was that? Logic? Who could be logical when her delicious mouth was a breath away from his? When her soft body brushed against his? When her scent turned his muscles to granite? The last of his self-control crumbled, replaced with a mix of pent-up adrenaline and passion he couldn’t extinguish.
He tugged her hand away and backed her against a tree, crushing his lips to hers, his hands gripping her waist. Her gasp against his lips might have been shock, maybe dismay, but one glance at her darkening eyes told him neither one of those was what she was feeling. Not even close.
“Is this heaven, Katie-Lynn?” he whispered against her lips, drowning in the raspberry tartness of her mouth.
“Yes,” she breathed. “It always is when you hold me.”
His heart headed into cardiac arrest from the aftershock of her words. It pounded hard enough to hear.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hot and reckless. As his hands slid down her back, his chest heaved against hers. She was fire in his arms, her mouth soft and eager beneath the claim of his lips. In an instant, he saw his mistake in kissing the only woman he’d ever loved...would only love. This intimacy brought her dangerously close, fitting into the empty spaces she’d left behind.
It’d crush him all over when she tore loose again. He shouldn’t expect anything more. It was just as stupid to expect anything more from her now as it had been twelve years ago.
Katie-Lynn was who she was. Sociable, outgoing, citified. And he was who he was—rooted, traditional, an introvert.
“We need to stop,” he rasped out.
