Except for the attempts she had made at bringing him closer to Daniel, she had left him pretty much alone, but she was ever aware of where he was and what he was doing, whether he was here in the office or out in the corral with Scrappy.
“How did you know he was trying to escape?” she asked, still hovering in the doorway.
Reed turned with a startled look on his face, as if he had forgotten she was still there. Then he looked down into his drink as if the answer might be there. “I went to look in on him.”
“I’m glad.” Knowing he had made the effort lightened her heart.
He walked closer. “I’ve gone in to see him every night after he’s fallen asleep.”
“Thank goodness you were there tonight.”
“I meant what I said, Kate. You can’t keep him locked up in there forever.”
“I don’t intend to. In fact, I think we should try taking him downstairs tomorrow. He’s been here almost two weeks. If it was you or I, we might have tried to jump out of the window by now, too.”
He actually smiled.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That I’d like to see you climbing over that window ledge in your nightgown.”
She gasped and looked down, felt herself grow hot with embarrassment, and crossed her arms over her breasts even though the gown was not transparent.
A modest, serviceable nightgown is a girl’s best friend.
Mother Superior had made certain every girl had two.
“I don’t think you need to worry about your modesty in that thing, Kate. You’re covered from neck to toe.”
“But . . . it’s my nightgown,” she whispered, appalled at herself. Mother Superior’s hair would be standing out around her head if she could see her now.
“I’ve seen women in dresses that show more than that thing shows. Some women sleep in a lot less.” He tossed back the rest of the drink and set the glass down on the desk.
She thought of Charm and blushed again.
“Before I went to see about Daniel, I was looking through my father’s papers for a copy of the forged marriage document.”
“Did you find one?”
“No. I’m sure that his lawyer must have one, but Jeb’s out of the country. I’ll make certain that as soon as he’s back, he’ll start clearing things up.”
And then the marriage, even if it is false, will be over.
She was not fooling herself. There was nothing to bind them to each other now save a night of lovemaking that he could not recall and a stolen kiss, and yet, at times she found herself hoping that there could be more between them, wishing that he would stay and not go back to the Rangers.
Her gaze dropped to a nearby book stand where a small daguerreotype stood upon a stack of receipts. A woman’s face stared up at her. It wasn’t Becky’s. The woman was thin, almost gaunt, with light eyes that gave her a ghostly look in the picture.
“Is that your mother?” she guessed.
He nodded. “Her name was Virginia. She was from Georgia.”
She had learned as much from his father’s letters, but since Reed was opening up at last, she let him talk.
“She died when I was thirteen.”
“Was she ill?”
He shook his head. “Not that I could see. I blame my father for her death.”
She realized then that the burden of hatred he carried for his father was a far heavier one than she had first thought, that their troubles started before he met Becky. It was far too heavy a load to tote around now that the man was dead.
He continued without her having to question him. “She hated Texas. She was spoiled, a planter’s daughter who always had everything she ever wanted. My father, when they met, was quite poor. Her family thought she married beneath them and told him so. Later, my father loved to tell folks how after the War, her family lost everything and how he had become one of the richest men in Texas.”
“But if you were only thirteen at the time, then she died well before the War.”
“Thankfully, she died without knowing what happened to her family. She had four brothers, all strapping Irishmen—that’s what she liked to call them. I tried to write to them after the War, but I learned they were killed fighting for the Confederacy.” He shook his head, his mouth in a grim line. “I’m glad she didn’t live to see it.”
She leaned back against the doorjamb, content to let him talk, wanting to know more about him, about his life.
“She knew my father was making a place for himself here, so she never insisted that he take her back to Georgia, ‘back to the home place,’ as she called it. She had wanted ‘a passel’ of children, but she wasn’t a strong woman. She only had me.
“My father was devoted to one thing in his life, and that was Lone Star. When she finally came to realize that, it broke her spirit. She told me once that her love for me was the only thing that kept her alive. Eventually, she developed what my father called ‘female trouble.’ She was sad most of the time, real quiet. There was no one in town she ever considered on her social level, so she had no close friends. She spent a lot of time alone, staring out at the prairie. One morning she up and disappeared. Later one of the men found her hanging in the back of the barn.”
“Oh, Reed.” She didn’t know what else to say. He had lost the two women most important to him to suicide.
“Unfortunately, she had done a poor job of trying to kill herself, and she lingered for a day in agony. Her last wish was to be buried in Georgia.”
“Was she?”
“Of course not. My father buried her out by the old dog run where they first lived when they moved here.”
The old cabin that Reed had loved before the Comanche burned it to the ground. The very place he had later moved to with his wife and Daniel.
Kate realized then that he had a sentimental side after all and that he had suffered from more than guilt because of Becky’s loss and betrayal. His mother had left him, too.
She looked up, found him watching her closely.
“I don’t usually talk about her,” he said.
He walked over to the desk, stared down at the papers lying there, but she could tell that he was not concentrating on them.
“Is there much work here?” She indicated the desk.
He shook his head. “No. Not until Jeb gets back from Europe. I’m content to let things go on just as they did before and let the foremen run the ranch.”
“Surely there will come a time when you’ll need to be here to take care of things.”
He shook his head, drowning the spark of hope that he might stay and take over.
“I can’t stay here, Kate.”
“I understand why you would feel that way, but—”
“You still don’t think I should leave.”
“Your father’s gone, but Daniel’s back. He’s just a child. A little boy who needs a home and a family. He is either your son . . . or your half brother—”
“Don’t.” He held up his hand.
But Kate refused to be ignored. The boy’s welfare, his future were dependent on his relationship with this man. If she was going to do all she could for Daniel, she needed Reed’s help. “You can’t turn your back on him. He’s family, one way or another.”
“You don’t want to take care of him now, is that it?”
“That’s not it at all. I’ll stay as long as he needs me, but he’s your responsibility. He is the innocent one in all of this. He’s still the little boy you thought of as yours for three years, the boy you called your son until Becky put doubt in your mind. Can’t you find it in your heart to love him again?”
Her challenge went unanswered. Reed ran his hand over the back of his neck, wiped the sweat off his brow with his shirt cuff. The room was stifling, the night air still as death.
“I’m leaving day after tomorrow,” he said with finality.
How could she ever bring him and Daniel together if he left?
“If anything comes up, Sc
rappy knows where we’ll be camped for the summer.”
The summer. The whole summer.
“This isn’t going to help things between you and Daniel. You’ll have to start over with him when you come back.”
She could see by the look on his face that he had no intention of coming back. If he did, it certainly wasn’t any time soon.
“He hates me for what I am. I was there at the raid on the Comanche encampment.”
“Why keep him here if you don’t want him? Why not let him go back to the Comanche? Obviously, he had people who cared for him there. People he loved.” She was pushing too hard, and she knew it, but there was no time left.
“Don’t think I haven’t been asking myself that same question, Kate, but I know if I send him back that sooner or later he’s likely to resist and be killed. I won’t condemn him to that. In a while we’ll have ended their way of life completely. Those that aren’t killed outright will be left to die on reservations. At least here, Daniel will have a chance to survive.”
“Raised by a housekeeper? Ignored by his father?”
“But, I may not be his father, damn it.”
She shook her head, sorry for him, sorry for the burden of hate he carried. “But what if you are?” she whispered. “Do you really think that he can survive without love?”
He crossed the room until he was close enough to touch her. He stared down into her eyes for a long, silent stretch of heartbeats. Then he said softly, “I’ve lived without it for years.”
22
His last day at Lone Star, Reed realized that he should have left without telling Kate. The woman was bound and determined to celebrate.
“We’re planning a special supper for you,” she announced that morning over coffee.
He was still half asleep. It was the time of day he usually liked to be alone with his thoughts, but with Kate around, that was impossible. “Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” he mumbled.
Charm, who was rolling out pie dough across the room, turned around. The crestfallen look on her face had him backtracking.
“Whatever you’re planning will be fine.” He shoved his face back into the coffee cup.
“We’ll be eating in the dining room.” Kate went on as if he hadn’t objected. She already had her mind made up about how things were going to be.
They had been eating all their meals in the kitchen, and that was all right by him. There he wasn’t reminded of the times he and Becky lived here and the way his father liked to reign over the long dining table. The way the old man would entertain Becky and Sofia with every detail of his latest business coup.
“I’ve got some things to do today.” He made his announcement before Kate could work herself up and start in about wanting him to spend time with Daniel.
It was clear the boy hated him. For his part, Reed hadn’t a clue as to how to make things any different. He had just about convinced himself that leaving the boy alone with Kate might help calm him down.
“We’ve planned supper for five.” Kate had opened the back door and was standing there with a broom, ready to sweep the veranda.
“I’ll be out in the barn if you need me,” he said.
He hid all day, spent the time with Scrappy, working the thoroughbreds, realizing they were all his now, as was all the rest of it. At one point he found himself staring at the house, wondering if he could ever feel content living there. Just then, Kate had walked out the back door, her steps clipped and determined as she hurried around the house carrying the laundry basket to the clothesline.
Despite the deception that brought her here, she seemed content, a part of the household, perhaps because she truly seemed devoted to Daniel’s care. Her mind held no dark memories of this place.
He found himself thinking that fate was fickle and he was lucky she was here. Leaving the boy with someone else might not have been as easy.
He avoided the flurry of activity in the house as much as possible. He went in once to get his spurs and found Kate sweating over an ironing board, pressing the wrinkles out of a starched linen tablecloth. Charm was bustling back and forth to the stove. The heat it emitted made the already overly warm kitchen nearly unbearable, but the heavenly aroma of a huge pot roast and onions mingled with the mouthwatering smell of warm fresh bread.
Another time he went back for some water and was treated to the sight of Kate standing on a chair, reaching for the good china on a high shelf in the kitchen pantry. He was there a spell without her knowing, admiring her trim waist and the tempting swell of her hips, all the while trying to convince himself that it was only what any red-blooded man would do and that he wasn’t attracted to Kate.
His life was too unsettled to complicate it any more. Just because he liked looking at her didn’t mean that things between them would ever go any further.
She glanced over her shoulder, caught him staring, and nearly lost her balance. He stepped up and made a grab for her, meaning to steady her until she found her footing, but wound up bracing his hand beneath her derriere. She blushed beet red. He quickly gave her a slight shove that put her feet back square on the chair seat.
“Can I help?”
Kate turned around and stared at the china in the cabinet. “Thank you, that would be nice.” She didn’t move.
“You’ll have to let me help you down.”
He heard her sigh. When she turned around and held out her hand, she was still blushing.
“I didn’t do that on purpose, Kate.”
“I know.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He knew damn well when a woman said there was nothing wrong that she definitely had a bee in her bonnet, but he wasn’t about to go down that road. They switched places.
“Which plates do you want?”
“Four of everything. Plates, cups, saucers, salads, bread and butters.”
He hadn’t seen the china in years. Tiny dogwood flowers stood out against an ivory background. The scalloped edges were trimmed in gold. The fragile legacy had been his mother’s, given to her on her wedding day by her mother. Reed Senior had offered it to Becky one night at dinner, but she shook her head and refused.
“I want to choose a set of my own.” Reed could still remember the way she said the words, the hard edge to her voice. She tossed him a look and added, “If we ever get to move out of that old cabin and live in a decent place like this.”
“Reed?” Kate’s voice brought him back. He had been staring down at the bread and butter plates in his hand. When he gave them to Kate he noticed how carefully she held them, as if they were a precious treasure.
“Those were my mother’s,” he told her as he stepped down off the chair.
“That makes them twice as special. They’re very beautiful.” She cradled the pieces in her arms, waiting to set them out on the dining table with the others she’d already put there. “The dishes we had at the orphanage were plain white and so thick that they almost never broke, even when one of the girls dropped them.”
She looked away, busied herself at the long dining table covered with the freshly ironed linen cloth. At each place there was a pressed and folded napkin.
“Is that all you need?”
“That’s all,” she told him without looking back him. “Thank you.”
He hurried off to the barn, eager to get back to the horses. At least they were predictable, and if he accidently touched one on the behind, it didn’t get out of sorts.
Kate listened to the fading sound of his footsteps as Reed went out through the kitchen. She couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving in the morning, and not just because of Daniel.
She was beginning to know him as something other than a Texas Ranger, or Reed Senior’s son. She understood why it was so hard for him to accept Daniel, and she knew what doubt and pain plagued him.
Since he had opened up about the past, she had discovered a gentler soul and a wounded heart beneath his hard exterior. Despite his
discomfort around Daniel, he was a man worthy of love who believed he didn’t need it because he was afraid of the hurt it would bring.
She would be a fool to deny her growing attraction to him. Perhaps because of her memory of the night they made love, perhaps because she was getting to know him better, whatever the reason, she knew it wouldn’t be hard to love him. Not hard at all.
Reed thought she would be happy that he had dressed for dinner. He had found an old white shirt of his in the upstairs wardrobe that still fit. When he went downstairs a few minutes before five, Kate started to greet him, paused, and then, embarrassed, glanced down at one of three faded, worn gowns he had seen her in many times. This one was a particularly drab brown, the color of dried mud.
Suddenly, he realized that neither she nor Charm had anything nicer to wear than what he had already seen them in. Charm’s gown was not only mended, but she had altered it by sewing what looked like a plain white kerchief across the low-cut bodice to cover her cleavage.
Trying to put Kate at ease, he said, “I decided that since you two have worked so hard on supper that I’d clean up a bit.”
“You look . . . wonderful,” she said, smiling up at him. Her compliment didn’t make him feel much better so he added, “You be sure and send Scrappy into town for whatever it is you’ll need for some new outfits for you and Charm.”
Too late, he realized he had put his foot in his mouth again. Kate primly folded her hands and continued to smile uncomfortably.
His shirt collar was suddenly too tight, so he stuck his finger between it and his neck and tugged. “When do we eat?” He glanced toward the dining room.
“As soon as we bring Daniel down.”
“Daniel is eating with us?”
“It’s your going-away dinner. He should be here.”
“He has no idea what kind of a dinner it is. You told me two days ago that he was finally doing better just eating off a tray.”
“Which is why I think including him is a good idea. The higher our expectations, the more he will achieve.”
Reed shook his head. “That approach didn’t work for my father where I was concerned.”
She ignored him and headed for the stairs. “I’d appreciate your help. He can’t walk on his own, and I certainly can’t carry him very far.”
Summer Moon Page 16
