"I call them 'the minions,' but not where they can hear me," confided Evan. "Cousin Hannah threw a huckleberry tart at me when I called her that the first time, and damn if that girl doesn't have good aim." He mimed wiping at his hair.
"Might have something to do with the fact that she's a star pitcher on her softball team," Dane said dryly. He turned to look at Caitlyn. "Hello again, Caitlyn. I was really glad to hear that you weren't seriously hurt in that crash. Sorry about your car, though."
He sounded sincere, but she fought to urge to wilt under his level, assessing stare. No question about it, Mark's older brother was pretty damned intimidating.
"Uh, thank you, Dane. And thanks for getting me out of there the other night. You're all my heroes, as far as I'm concerned."
Like his brothers, his face flushed at her words. "Just doing my job," he mumbled.
Annabeth poked him in one bulging bicep. "Which is being a hero," she declared and winked at Caitlyn.
"I'll have to agree with that," Caitlyn said and tried not to grin as she watched Dane's flush deepen.
"All right, let's head for the dining room," Elle said. "Evan, you can go ahead and throw those steaks on the grill now. Mark, will you open the wine? Ash is in the kitchen, making the salad—"
"—Hi, Caitlyn! Hi, Annabeth!" came another male voice from the back of the house somewhere.
Caitlyn wondered if he had super-hearing. Elle had been speaking in a normal voice, not shouting or anything.
"Hey, Ash," Annabeth called back. "I made some more of that Italian bread you liked so much, the pane Genzano."
"Awesome!" came the reply. "That gets you a free website update."
Annabeth laughed. "Not that he ever charges me for doing my website," she confided to Caitlyn. "So I always try to bring a couple of loaves of French or Italian style bread and some good olive oil when I come to dinner here."
Mark's arm was still around her as he and Caitlyn followed the others down the hall to the formal dining room near the back of the house.
The dining room was decorated with nineteenth-century wallpaper and molded plaster ceilings. A large bronze Victorian gaslight chandelier hung from the ceiling, with large, tulip-shaped frosted glass shades around the light bulbs.
A huge oval mahogany dining table dominated the room. It was set for seven, with antique china and crystal wine glasses and matching water goblets.
Dane, Annabeth, and Elle promptly vanished through a set of swinging doors into the kitchen, and Mark finally released Caitlyn. He moved to the massive oak sideboard, where a couple of bottles of red wine stood waiting.
Elle reappeared in moments with a platter of raw ribeye steaks and handed them to Evan. He took them and headed out the back door to where a large grill stood smoking on a brick patio.
"Can I help with anything?" Caitlyn asked, realizing that she was the only one without an assigned task.
"If you could put the vegetables and potatoes on the table, that would be wonderful," Elle told her. "Follow me."
Just inside the swinging doors, they met Dane, who was heading back out into the dining room while holding an enormous crystal pitcher of water. He nodded solemnly at Caitlyn as he passed her.
The kitchen was a big, old-fashioned room that took up most of the rear of the ranch house. It had big modern appliances while still retaining the original Victorian cabinets and wide marble countertops. It smelled of garlic and roasting potatoes and looked like it could easily dish up meals for a restaurant crowd.
Annabeth stood at one of the long counters with a long, wickedly serrated bread knife, slicing the loaves she'd brought and putting the slices into a basket lined with a linen napkin.
Next to her stood a tall, dark-haired, rather gangly teenager who was busily dicing green onions on a cutting board. A large bowl of green salad already dotted with fresh sliced tomatoes, mushrooms, bell peppers, and carrots stood to one side of the cutting board.
"Hi, you must be Ash," Caitlyn guessed.
He turned and nodded. And she could swear he sniffed the air. "And you're Caitlyn." It wasn't a question.
"Yes. I'm pleased to meet you."
"Me too," he said shyly before turning back to his onions.
Elle opened the door of one of the kitchen's three ovens and drew out a large pan of tiny new potatoes sizzling in olive oil and dotted with caramelized garlic and herbs.
Caitlyn's mouth watered as the fragrance of the roasted potatoes hit her.
"That smells wonderful!" she exclaimed.
"The boys always ask for these for our family dinners," said Elle. She put the pan down on the counter and paused to give Caitlyn a long look very similar to the one that Dane had given her earlier. "I'm glad you were able to join us," she added.
Caitlyn felt that there was a deeper meaning behind her words. What had Mark told them about her? What did they think about the fact that she was staying with him?
Everyone, even Dane, seemed welcoming, so Caitlyn decided not to worry about it.
After a few more minutes of activity, all the food was on the table. In addition to the sliced bread, salad, and potatoes, Elle had also made a spinach casserole fragrant with Parmesan cheese and garlic.
"Everything except the salad and Parmesan cheese was locally produced, either on our ranch or by one of our neighbors," Elle said proudly. "Unfortunately, we can't grow lettuce and tomatoes year-round here, like you can in California."
This last was said with a fond smile in Annabeth's direction.
They had just seated themselves when Evan came back inside, his platter now piled high with browned steaks.
"They're all medium-rare, but I can throw Caitlyn's back on the grill for a few minutes if she prefers well-done," he said cheerfully.
Everyone looked at Caitlyn. "No, that's fine," she protested. "I like my steak medium rare."
She saw approval on their faces. Huh. I guess this was some kind of test.
The dinner was delicious, and Caitlyn figured out where Mark had learned to cook so well. The steaks were so tender that they barely needed a knife, and both the potatoes and the casserole cried out for second helpings.
They all ate in appreciative silence for a few minutes.
Then Elle, raising her wine glass to her lips, said, "So did I understand correctly that your car is totaled, Caitlyn? Can we help you in any way?"
"That's really nice of you to offer," Caitlyn replied. "Mark offering me a place to stay has been wonderful, and my insurance company has been pretty cooperative so far. I'm planning to buy another car once they send me the check, but in the meanwhile, I should rent something so I can get around. I was wondering if there was a car rental place in town."
"No need," Elle said decisively. "You can take one of the ranch's trucks if you need to drive anywhere."
"Thank you," Caitlyn said, startled by Elle's generosity towards a person she had just met. "That's so kind of you. I really appreciate it, but I don't want to inconvenience you."
"The nearest rental car place is in Salmon, so it's quite some distance away," Mark added. He was seated to her right. "And the ranch has four trucks in addition to our personal vehicles. It's definitely not going to be an inconvenience. Please use whatever you like while you're here."
"While…she's here?" Elle asked slowly. "What do you mean? I was under the impression that Caitlyn was your m—"
"Caitlyn's here on a short-term work assignment," Mark said quickly, interrupting his mother. "I'm trying to convince her to extend her stay."
He moved his hand to cover Caitlyn's, who looked at him bewilderment.
"I've already used the car accident as an excuse to push out my departure a week or so," Caitlyn said brightly. "My boss is pretty understanding."
And he wants me to stay the hell away from Albuquerque right now, she thought but did not say.
"Oh Mark, did you know she was only visiting?" Elle asked. Her expression was deeply dismayed.
Sitting across from Dane, Caitlyn
saw the expression of shock on his face. And Annabeth…Annabeth was looking at Mark, and there was pity in her expression.
What on earth is going on? What did Mark tell them about me?
An uncomfortable silence fell, and Caitlyn wondered frantically how she had managed to hurt their feelings. Surely it wasn't a secret that she was here on an assignment?
But they were all acting as if they had been expecting her to stay forever.
As if she'd moved in with Mark as his significant other.
Her appetite suddenly gone, Caitlyn looked down at her plate and pushed bits of the spinach casserole around.
Three days, she thought despairingly. He's a great guy…but I've only known him three days. We haven't even had real sex yet!
Things were moving at breakneck speed. She knew she should probably run for the hills…or at least move out to a hotel. It was the smart thing to do.
But she didn't want to. To hell with smart! She wanted to stay put and spend more time with her sexy fireman.
Mark squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry about it," he said, and Caitlyn wasn't sure if he was addressing his mother or her.
Okay, time to change the subject. She looked at Dane.
"Speaking of work assignments," she ventured. "Would you be willing to give me a few minutes whenever it's convenient and answer a couple of questions for the story I'm working on?"
Dane's eyes narrowed. Caitlyn saw him reach over to put his hand over Annabeth's in a gesture nearly identical to the one that Mark had just used with her.
"You mean the one about that asshole Roger?" he growled.
"Dane! Language!" snapped his mother.
And Dane looked briefly abashed before his mouth tightened into a stubborn line.
"Look," said Caitlyn. "I'm a journalist. I'm just trying to find out what really happened the night of the fire, and there are conflicting reports. All I need is ten, maybe fifteen minutes of your time, and I promise I won't bring up the topic again."
Elle took a deep breath and looked tense.
Caitlyn let her gaze meet Annabeth's troubled one.
She said softly, "Look, Annabeth, I know he's not a nice guy. I read all the court records. I want to debunk his claims, if I can. But to do that, I need Dane's account of what he saw and heard and did that night."
Annabeth's lips thinned. Caitlyn waited as her strawberry-blonde brows drew together. Then Annabeth turned to Dane.
"Would you mind?" she asked. "I'd like to see those wild stories that Roger's spreading put to rest, once and for all."
Dane exhaled loudly, somewhere between a huff and a sigh.
"Okay," he said in a grudging tone. "Let's do it after dinner. And you have to promise me you won't bother Annabeth about this again."
"Dane, my love," Annabeth began, sounding mildly frustrated. "I don't need—"
"Humor me," he growled, and Annabeth subsided with a sigh.
She shot Caitlyn a glance that clearly said, I know he's being overprotective, but what can you do?
"Thank you," Caitlyn said to both of them. "And I promise."
* * *
Conversation was strained throughout the remainder of the meal, with Evan and Elle trying a little too hard and Mark and Dane both mostly silent.
Annabeth and Ash discussed the changes he wanted to make to her website, including a way to pay for wedding cake deposits online that would be integrated with a calendar app to avoid overbooking her time.
And Caitlyn did her best to smooth over the awkwardness she had inadvertently created, all the time wondering why the news that she was just visiting had apparently come as such a big shock to Elle and Dane.
She felt guilty and at the same time, defensive. It can't possibly have come as a surprise that I'm going home soon!
Once again, she wondered what Mark had told them all. I'm going to have a talk with him about that once we're back at his place.
After they cleared the dinner dishes from the table, Elle suggested that Dane and Caitlyn use the parlor for the interview. It was located at the front of the house and served as the ranch's office.
Hoping to talk to Dane, Caitlyn had come prepared, tucking her mini-recorder into her purse along with a notepad and a pen. She grabbed her purse from the foyer before following Dane into the parlor.
The walls were lined with bookshelves crowded with a collection of well-worn books both old and new. A big Victorian desk boasted a PC with a large flat-screen monitor and a printer.
Dane led her over to an antique horsehair sofa upholstered in green-and-burgundy striped fabric. It stood in the alcove formed by a large bay window. He seated himself opposite her in an armchair with legs that ended in clawed feet.
"All right, what do you want to know?" he asked a bit grumpily.
"If you don't mind me recording this, I'd like you to start by telling me what happened that night," Caitlyn said.
Dane shrugged, and she clicked the Record button.
With a sigh, he said, "It started when Roger Pemberton called 911 with a bogus report of a car accident a few miles out of town. He wanted to make sure that we were safely out of the way before he started the fire at Annabeth's place…"
As Dane continued describing what had happened that night, his tone was calm.
But Caitlyn saw his fists clench in his lap and his knuckles whiten under the light furring of dark hair as he described his feelings of terror and despair at seeing Annabeth unconscious when they finally reached her in the burning building.
"Then I saw that asshole Roger standing at the back of the crowd while we were giving Annabeth oxygen. He was looking all smug. I, uh, kind of lost it and went after him," Dane said.
Caitlyn nodded sympathetically. Now they were getting to the crux of the story. "What happened after that?"
"He ran. I caught him just as he was trying to drive away in that fancy Beemer of his," Dane said simply. "I hauled him out of his car and was getting ready to beat the shit out of him when Bill Jacobsen pulled up and convinced me not to do it."
Caitlyn raised her brows at this laconic account. "You know," she said, as neutrally as she could, "I saw photos of that car. The front door looked like it had been ripped off its hinges by the Incredible Hulk."
"Huh."
Dane didn't seem inclined to say more, so she sat back and waited expectantly. Over the years, she had learned that silence was a great tool to use with reluctant interview subjects. Most people eventually said something to fill the empty space.
Dane held out longer than most, but finally, he relented.
"I was so mad I don't remember a lot about what happened once I caught up with that asshole. I might've had an axe or something on me." Dane shook his head. "I'll tell you one thing—I'm generally a peace-loving guy, but I wanted to kill Roger that night. He sent us out of town on a bullshit call and tried to burn Annabeth alive! What kind of monster does that?"
Caitlyn saw his hazel eyes lighten until they looked almost gold in the lamplight. She found herself sympathizing with the big man. Everything about Dane Swanson spoke of quiet strength and fierce protectiveness towards those he loved.
Those were qualities Mark possessed too.
"Just one more question, Dane," Caitlyn said. "It's about Roger's claim that he was actually chased by a giant bear and that he saw it turn into…you. Naked."
Dane stared at her for a long moment, his jaw muscles flexing. Finally he said, "I heard that story too. It ever occur to you that Roger Pemberton isn't quite right in the head?"
"It's occurred to me," Caitlyn admitted. "And none of the witnesses reported seeing anything like that. But I had to ask."
Dane shifted uncomfortably, signaling that the interview was over.
Caitlyn became aware of the fragrance of fresh-brewed coffee seeping through the house. It must be time for dessert.
She turned off her recorder, closed her notebook, and rose from the sofa. "Thank you for your time. I appreciate your willingness to talk to
me about something that was very upsetting to you and your family."
That got her a slow smile, and she caught her breath as his features shifted from serious to sexy. No wonder Annabeth fell for this guy.
"No problem."
She turned to head for the door but stopped when he touched her arm. "Hey, before we go, I was hoping to ask you something in private."
"Sure. What did you want to know?" Caitlyn asked.
"What are your intentions towards my brother?" Dane asked solemnly. He pinned her with an intense gaze, and she was suddenly aware of how he towered over her.
"Uh," Caitlyn stammered. "I like him. A lot. He's really, um, nice. But we only just met, and I, uh…" She ran out of words.
Nice? Really? That's the only word you could find for the sexiest guy who's ever kissed you? Way to go, Ms. Hotshot Journalist!
Dane stared down at her like he was trying to pierce her skull with X-ray vision and read her mind. She noticed that his jaw muscles were clenching again.
"Look," he said finally. "You probably already know this, but Mark's fallen for you. Hard. I've never seen him do that before."
"But—" Caitlyn began, trying to ignore the thrill that ran through her at his words.
Dane overrode her. "I know he's trying to play it cool, but he's head over heels for you. Please don't hurt him, Caitlyn. He's my little brother, and he's a good man. A decent man."
She nodded mutely.
He continued, "Don't be in a hurry to leave. Stay and give him a chance. Please."
Caitlyn stared up at Dane. She felt as if she'd just been gut-punched. "But I have to…" she automatically began to protest. Then she stopped and started over. "I've never met anyone like him," she admitted.
Dane's wide shoulders sagged a little in obvious relief. "Good. I'm glad you're not just, uh—"
"Taking advantage of him? Leading him on?" Caitlyn asked, stung.
Well, of course Mark's family would think so, she told herself. They didn't know her. She was just some stranger from out of town.
Smolder: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 2) Page 13
