by Lough, Loree
“Well, there’s an effective way to make sure someone’s listening.”
Every gloomy thought vanished at the sound of his rich, baritone voice. “I don’t always talk to myself, you know,” she said, looking up at Josh and hoping the words hadn’t sounded as defensive to him as they had to her own ears. Kate patted the space beside her.
He accepted her invitation and lowered himself down to the step. “I see. So, you talk to yourself only when there’s no one else around to hear you?”
How was it that he could change her mood from melancholy to merry with nothing but his amazing smile? Kate tried to recall exactly what he’d said earlier, about how spending so much time with her on the trail had made being without her seem odd. The simple memory of it made her heart beat a tad faster.
She looked past him to where Esther sat in the shade, surrounded by a dozen children. “She’s quite the entertainer, that grandmother of yours.” Better to change the subject, Kate thought, than risk exposing herself for the brainless twit she’d become, thanks to her feelings for him.
Josh followed her gaze. “Few things tickle her more than having a bunch of young’uns around her feet.”
Oh, how she wanted to trace the contours of that perfect profile!
It’s precisely thoughts like that you need to watch out for! she berated herself. And then, just to be safe, Kate sat on her hands. “She’s a natural-born storyteller. Just look at them, hanging on every word she says!”
When he turned and looked into her eyes—deeply—Kate fought the urge to close hers. Because if what they said about the eyes being a window to the soul was true, she didn’t want him looking at hers too long and reading the truth that lived deep inside her wretched soul.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. “So, tell me, Dinah Theodore, did you inherit those gorgeous, green eyes of yours from your mother or your father?”
Had he put a little extra emphasis on her name? Kate hoped she’d only imagined it; otherwise, it could be a clue that Josh knew more about her sordid past than he let on. “My father’s eyes were brown,” she volunteered, “and my mama’s were blue.”
“Well, they’re both to be commended, in any case,” he said, getting to his feet, “for producing such a stunning end result.”
He held out one hand, and she let him pull her to her feet, hoping he hadn’t heard the tiny gasp that escaped her lips when his big, strong fingers closed gently around hers. I’d follow you anywhere, she thought, if I thought for an instant I deserved a man like you.
“Have you had dessert yet?”
Kate shook her head. The way her stomach lurched in his presence, food was the last thing on her mind.
“Then I highly recommend the apple pie. It’s by far the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Was that his shy cowboy idea of a compliment? Maybe Lucinda had told him that she’d spent most of the morning rolling dough and slicing fruit.
When they reached the assortment of cakes and tarts, cookies and sweet rolls she and Lucinda had baked yesterday and early that morning, Josh let go of her hand. “I’d cut you a slice of apple pie, but it seems we’re out of forks.”
Kate watched as he used his forefinger to pick up a dollop of filling that had spilled beside the plate. The mischievous glint in his eyes told her precisely what he planned to do with it, and she took a step backward, catching her boot heel on a tree root. She would have landed smack on her unbustled backside if he hadn’t grabbed her wrist.
“Aw, now look what I’ve gone and done,” he grumbled, frowning at the dab of apple and cinnamon he’d painted on her palm.
She started to say it wasn’t his fault, to tell him not to worry, because it would wash off with soap and warm water, and wasn’t it fortuitous that she’d rolled up her sleeves earlier? But just as she opened her mouth to let it all out, Josh brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed away the blob.
“There,” he said. “Clean as a whistle.”
Since when has such blatant flirtation been part of his normal routine? she thought, watching the thin, blue vein of her inner wrist counting the rapid beats of her heart. If she’d thought for a minute her ankle could handle it, she would have run full throttle to the house and hidden in her room.
Kate wriggled free of his grasp and began gathering up soiled forks and spoons. “I’ll just take these inside and wash them,” she said, plucking two from here, four from there, as she moved toward the other end of the table, “so Lucinda won’t have to do it. The poor woman has been on her feet since long before dawn—the same, grueling schedule of every day. Besides, there’s no telling how many people haven’t eaten yet, and there are only so many of these to go around!” At the sound of her own nervous giggle, Kate winced. She was rambling and knew it, but she seemed powerless to stanch the ceaseless flow of nonsensical chatter. “Good thing the teakettle is more than half full on the stove,” she added. “That’ll spare me having to boil water to—”
“Dinah,” Josh said, pulling her closer, “hush, will you, please, so I can apologize?”
Clutching the silverware like a shiny bouquet, she looked into his eyes. It wasn’t as though he’d given her much choice, what with one big hand at the small of her back and the other behind her neck. “Apologize?” she echoed. “Whatever for?”
“For not doing this days ago.”
He licked his lips, and, as his face loomed closer, she realized that Josh aimed to kiss her. As much as she’d yearned for this moment, she couldn’t help but think what a horrible mistake Josh was making, because he deserved so much better than the likes of her.
“Well, for the luvva Pete, what are you waiting for, man? Just kiss the girl, why don’t you?”
The sudden interruption made them both lurch, sending the flatware Kate had collected raining to the grass. Josh pulled himself together first. “Daniel, I declare, for a man with a bum leg, you sure are light on your feet.”
His cousin smacked the heel of one hand to his forehead. “Maybe so,” he said, “but it seems I’m heavy on intrusiveness. Shame on me for spoiling your romantic moment.”
Kate found her voice at last. “Don’t be silly. You didn’t spoil anything.” She bent down to retrieve the fallen forks and spoons, which she began dropping into her apron pockets. “I was just about to go inside and give these a good scrubbing when I lost my footing, you see, and Josh, here, happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
Josh’s cousin wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll say!” He proceeded to let out a boisterous laugh, and Kate hurried away, dropping more eating utensils into her pockets as she sprinted for the house.
Moments later, alone in the kitchen, she immersed both hands in warm, sudsy water and proceeded to scour every spoon, fork, and plate already in the sink. As she worked, Kate rehashed the scene over and over in her head, searching for the thing she might have done or said to bring about another outcome. But there was no escaping the fact that, if it hadn’t been for Daniel’s interruption, Josh would have kissed her.
Kate rinsed the dishes she’d washed, then picked up a tea towel to wipe them dry. If only it were as easy to wipe away the memory of standing in the protective circle of his embrace. Yes, he would have kissed her, and she would have let him—a shameful admission, because she had no business letting him believe they could ever be more than just friends!
On the other side of the window, cows grazed in the far pasture while horses frolicked in the corral. Outbuildings that housed plows and tillers had been whitewashed to look their best for the party, and the Nevilles, their friends, and the hired hands laughed and talked and enjoyed the revelry.
Funny how a thin pane of glass could so completely wall her off from sharing in their happiness.
As she scanned the horizon, the all-too-familiar sense of foreboding snaked up her spine. Frank Michaels lurked out there somewhere, like a spider in its web.
If she didn’t leave here soon, Kate would lead him right to the Lazy N,
where he’d devour the Nevilles one by one.
25
Dinah had made herself scarce for the remainder of the party, and even when she joined Lucinda and George to clean up the yard afterward, Josh noticed that she stayed as far from him as humanly possible.
Maybe it had been a mistake to try to kiss her.
And maybe he should have finished what he’d started, Daniel or no Daniel. What better way to show her that he’d fallen Stetson over boots for her—and that there was no turning back?
Josh groaned, and Callie nickered. “What?” he asked, frowning. “You have a better idea?”
The horse bobbed her head as he went back to brushing her, even though her gleaming, gray coat didn’t need it. “So, is Mee-Maw right?” he asked, patting her swollen belly. “Have you gone all moody and temperamental ’cause you’re gonna be a mama?”
Callie nuzzled his neck and, her ears pricked forward, blew a soft chortle into his shoulder, as if to say, “Are you happy for me, Dad?”
Well, he wasn’t.
Nearly a dozen years ago, he’d owned a mare named Mercy. Time had not dulled the painful memory of how she’d suffered trying to birth a breach foal. Born and raised on the Lazy N, Josh understood what every cowboy knew—that such things were part and parcel of ranch life. But that hadn’t made putting her down any easier, and he’d vowed as he’d dug her grave that he’d never own a female horse again.
And then, he’d found Callie. Or, more accurately, Callie had found him. From the moment he’d brought her home, he’d done everything he could to keep her away from the stud males. Enduring the good-natured jibes inspired by his decision not to mate her was a heap easier than what might have happened if he had.
She had a spirited nature, one of the things he liked most about her. Regrettably, it was that very trait that had prompted her to jump the corral fence this past spring. She’d been gone four long days when he’d finally given up hope of finding her, and he had prayed that if she’d ended up in the jaws of a cougar or coyote, the kill had at least been quick and painless.
Then, on the fifth day, she’d come home, covered from mane to tail with mud and dust and bite marks, but she’d pranced jauntily into her stall. He’d prayed again, this time that she hadn’t met up with a wild alpha stallion out there on the prairie. Almost from the start, his gut had told him that, come January, his worst fears would be realized, and no one at the Lazy N had been able to relieve his worries.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
He remembered the way Dinah had cared, the night of the vicious storm, when they’d been forced to tether their horses outside the shack in the pounding rain. If he shared his fears with her, she’d not only listen—she’d understand.
Josh searched for nearly an hour before giving up hope of finding her. Maybe she’d turned in early. He could hardly have blamed her, because she’d worked as hard as anyone to make the annual Neville Fourth of July pig roast a smashing success.
It was dark when he decided to check on Callie one last time. Moonlight, slanting down from the heavens, was reflected in bright, white shafts on the corral fence, and the black loam of frequently trodden earth contrasted with the shimmering coats of horses, which stood, motionless, save for the soft puffing of their breaths. Recognizing him, Callie pawed at the dirt and whinnied, commanding his attention. Smiling, he sauntered closer. “What’s wrong, girl? Did you miss me?”
“So, was your grandmother right? Is Callie going to be a mother?”
She’d spoken softly, yet he lurched enough to startle Callie, and the horse responded with a stern whinny before stomping off to join the others. “You’re as bad as Daniel,” Josh said, moving closer to where Dinah was perched on the gate.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Josh figured Dinah could probably hear his heart thumping against his ribs, so he didn’t bother denying his fright. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
She looked into his eyes, then licked her lips—was that a clue that she, too, had given that almost-kiss a lot of thought?
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I had a lot to think about.”
The mount he’d bought for her ambled up and nudged her shoulder, and Dinah wrapped her arms around the animal’s neck. “Hey, there,” she cooed. “Yes, yes, you’re a very pretty girl, and I missed you, too.” Evidently satisfied with that bit of affection, the horse moseyed back to the group.
“So, what were you thinking about?” How soon she’d leave him? Whether or not she’d say good-bye when she did?
Dinah took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Oh, just this and that.”
His heart ached—what if she had considered leaving? And what if she planned to do it soon? “It’s after midnight, you know.”
“Is it that late?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I hadn’t realized that much time had passed already.”
“How long have you been out here?”
On the heels of a girlish giggle, she said, “I honestly have no idea. It was hot in my room, and when I peeked outside, it just looked so pretty out here. Much too pretty to stay all cooped up inside.”
Josh understood perfectly. Given his druthers, he’d rather sleep under the stars than in his bed any night.
Dinah inclined her head. “So, tell me, what are you doing out here at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep, either.”
“But I heard you say earlier that you had to be up before dawn.”
“You heard right.”
“Then, shouldn’t you be fast asleep by now?”
Josh chuckled. “If you ever get to Mexico, you might consider putting that inquisitive mind to work as a reporter for a local newspaper.”
Whether she’d chosen to overlook his not-so-subtle hint or didn’t have a ready reply, Josh couldn’t say. He knew this: her lack of response made him all the more interested in her plans.
“Now, really, be honest. Do you think your grandmother is right? About Callie, I mean. Is she going to be a mama?”
“Yes, she’s right. And I’m none too happy about it, either.”
“But, Josh! It would mean another little Callie running around—another beautiful horse. What’s not to be happy about?”
Josh launched into the story of how he’d acquired—and lost—Mercy, and he didn’t stop his tale until he’d brought Dinah right up to the moment when she’d startled him and Callie. Dinah had always been a chatterbox, so it surprised him when she had nothing to say in response to his sad narrative. It baffled him enough to take a step closer to study her face. It was then that he saw the tears in her eyes.
She was even more beautiful in the moonlight, if that was possible. The bright, lunar light painted feathery eyelash shadows on her milk-white cheeks and a crescent-shaped outline beneath her full lower lip. Callie’s foal would be a looker—she’d been right about that—but what he’d really like to see were the children he and Dinah would create. Would they have copper-colored curls and big, green eyes, like Dinah had, or blue eyes and straw-colored hair, favoring his features? Maybe, they’d grow up tall and muscular, like their pa, or, maybe, they’d turn out like their ma—short and spunky.
Josh hung his head at the realization that nothing would complete his life quite like the promise of spending the rest of it in a cozy house filled with lively young’uns—and Dinah. But how could that ever happen if she was bound and determined to leave him?
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?”
He leaned both his arms on the gate. “I could ask you the same question.”
“I was just thinking how unfair God is, sometimes. On top of everything else you’ve had to endure in your life, you shouldn’t have to worry that you might lose—”
She’d probably stopped short of saying, “That you might lose Callie, too,” and he sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for that. Thinking it was bad enough, but hearing the words spo
ken out loud? Josh could only shake his head in amazement that, yet again, Dinah had read his heart.
“God isn’t to blame for anything that’s gone wrong in my life,” he finally said. “Where would you get such a notion?”
A cynical grunt was her answer.
Several silent moments slid by before she said, “I remember a sermon from when I was just a little girl—something along the lines of, ‘The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.’ Well, it seems to me He does a whole lot more taking than giving, and it just isn’t fair.”
In the opalescent glow of the moon, her bruises were invisible. Josh wondered yet again about how she’d acquired them, about the sorry excuse for a man who’d put them there, along with the jagged scar on her jaw. What had her life been like, prior to meeting that two-legged beast? “And what do you think God took from you?”
“Where do I start? My parents, my home, my reputation, my good na—”
She clamped her lips together, but not before he’d heard enough to know she’d almost announced that God had taken her good name.
So, he’d been right all along—she wasn’t Dinah Theodore. But she couldn’t be Kate Wellington. How could the gorgeous little gal who’d cried because some horses had to stay outside in the driving rain be a thief and a killer?
And if she were?
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” she asked him again, a nervous pitch to her voice.
A brave man would confront her, right here, right now. A smart man would demand to know the truth about her past—and where she aimed to let it take her in the future. But Josh knew good and well that if he were either brave or smart, he never would have fallen so quickly and so completely for a beautiful bandit. He felt foolish. Stupid. Embarrassed that he’d let his heart lead when he should have put his head in control, when he should have put God in charge. “Just don’t feel much like talkin’, I reckon.”
