by Debra Holt
She stood surveying it all. Just when you think things can’t get any worse. Bingo. Would this day ever end? He had given her yet another reason to despise him.
“I thought we were going to Gran’s home. Why would we come here?”
“Georgia’s been staying here while her house is being gutted and rebuilt since the water from the flood a few months back rose to enter the first floor of her place.” He paused and gave her a cryptic look. “She didn’t tell you any of that?”
Kaitlyn hesitated, searching her brain. Had she? She remembered Gran telling her about the rains and there was some minor damage. But that was the sum total of it. Strange that she didn’t tell her the rest. Or was it? At any rate, the situation had just become unacceptable. How could her Gran have even entertained such an idea?
“We can’t impose on you and stay here. Surely, there are rooms in McKenna Springs.”
“Your grandmother will expect you to be here when she gets back. There’s no need to upset her over minor things such as this.” He left her to follow or not.
She wanted to scream and stomp her foot or do something to release her building anger. He was assuming she would just go along all meek and mild. If she didn’t, then she’d appear as a shrew. That would stir Angie’s interest. And probably upset her gran when she didn’t need more upset. Take a deep breath and hold your tongue… pick your battles. Besides, Kaitlyn steeled herself for what was still to come soon enough. The day wasn’t complete and still the hardest moment had yet to arrive.
She followed Clay up the steps, her mind sending daggers darting into his tall back. Kaitlyn hoped he felt each and every one of them.
Holding the door open with the toe of one boot, he stepped back so she could walk past him into the foyer. Kaitlyn ignored him as she did so.
Coming to a standstill on the polished wood flooring of the entry, her gaze took in the staircase which made a “T” on the landing before it split and progressed to the second floor. To the right, through a stone arch, the living area with great, brown leather couches and two easy chairs gathered around a low, round, rough-hewn wooden table in front of a massive fireplace whose copper-faced chimney rose to the ceiling. Lamps had been turned on in the recesses of the room and their shades lent a warm amber glow to the room—welcoming and warm—just as she knew it would be.
To the left was the formal dining room with its terrazzo tile flooring and heavy-looking table and matching chairs. A round, low-hanging wood and glass chandelier hung from the ceiling and a huge built-in buffet and hutch stood opposite the large windows. Through the doors to the left and down the hall she knew would be the kitchen and beyond it a sun room for early breakfasts and next to it a quiet study for the man of the house. A powder room was tucked beneath the stairs in front of them.
“I’ll get these bags to your rooms and then let my wife know you’re here.” Seth spoke up.
Before he took the first step on the stairs, a voice halted him.
“You won’t be letting me know anything of the sort, mister.” The chirpy voice came from the direction of the dining room.
Kaitlyn turned to find the plump woman heading her way, wiping her hands on the apron she wore around her short frame.
“My, my, I’m so pleased to meet you. Welcome to the both of you.” She took both their hands and shook them. Then she noticed Seth standing on the landing above them. “Mind that you get their things upstairs so they can get settled in. These ladies must be tired and will want a chance to rest up before dinner.”
“Yes, Edie.” The response was automatic and Seth headed upward, but not before casting a knowing smile over his shoulder with a wink. He had his orders.
Kaitlyn liked the older woman on sight. She had the typical welcoming Texas friendliness and her smile was easygoing with an infectious sparkle in pale gray eyes. She was also plain in dress and light with the makeup. Edie wore a denim skirt with a white apron tied at its waist and a blue plaid blouse, sensible walking shoes, and her salt and pepper hair in a bun. She reminded Kaitlyn of “home”—a feeling that brought her a pang of wistfulness in the region of her heart.
The door closed behind her. Kaitlyn could feel Clay’s gaze upon her back. She kept her shoulders resolved. She would not give him the satisfaction of any response but a composed one. Turning toward him, she realized too late she hadn’t calculated just how close behind her he stood, and she was forced to look upward. Memories of standing on tiptoe to reach his shoulders… stop right there!
Drawing herself up to her full height of five feet, six inches, she spoke in a controlled voice. “Surely, we can stay in a hotel. We don’t want to inconvenience your household.”
“No.” Clay spoke in a tone that was slow and purposeful. “There’s plenty of room and your gran is here. No need to stress her more than she already is. And you are far from being an inconvenience.” The look in the depth of his eyes sent an even stronger message her way. It was one that caught something in her midsection and twisted.
Was there a long pause? She had said her piece and he had said his.
“That was a long trip.” Thankfully, Angie saved the moment. “I think I’ll just follow Seth and find the closest ladies’ room.” She went to move past Kaitlyn.
“There’s one just under the staircase.” Kaitlyn’s words stopped her in her tracks.
Angie looked at Kaitlyn’s face with an openly surprised look. “Now how did you know that?”
Kaitlyn realized too late that she’d spoken the words aloud. Warmth rose along her neck and cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to let Clay know she remembered anything so inconsequential about the past—their past.
Before she could respond, however, he did so for her while moving around both women, heading up the stairs with the remaining suitcases.
“Don’t most houses have a guest powder room under the hall staircase? Just follow me, ladies, and I’ll show you to your rooms—each of which has a private bath.”
Before turning to follow, Angie gave Kaitlyn another long considering look. The message was clear. There would be questions to come when they were alone.
Kaitlyn followed with slower steps. Clay had stepped in and saved her from answering. Why? Perhaps he didn’t want Angie to get a wrong impression? That had to be it. It certainly wouldn’t be to help her out in any way, shape, or form.
*
“My room is amazing, but yours is gorgeous!” Angie said in admiration as she breezed in without a knock a few minutes later and landed on her back in the middle of the large four-poster bed. It’s soft down mattress and covers in sky blue and pale yellow quilting enveloped her. Propping herself up on her elbows, Angie looked around the room with a studied eye. Solid oak furnishings that could pass as centuries-old antiques, pale yellow walls with bright prints of bluebonnets and Texas spring flowers, a washstand in front of the window holding a mass of fragrant yellow roses and French doors with a view of a blazing orange sunset beyond. “This is quite some Texas spread. This city girl could get used to staying here.”
“Well, don’t!” The reply was short and launched in a vehement tone. “The moment we can, we’re getting out of here.”
“Okay, it’s time to give it up… all of it.” Angie sat up and crossed her arms, a serious look replacing the light mood of before. “I’ve been quiet so far.” She raised a hand to indicate Kaitlyn should not interrupt. “But enough is enough. It’s fairly obvious there’s something between you and this ranger. And it must be something really good because one—you have never in all the years I have known you even mentioned his existence to me, two—he drops out of the sky and into our path and you looked like you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you, three—we come into this place, supposedly a strange place to us both, yet you know exactly where the powder room is and I do not buy for one second the excuse that he tried to cover you with and four—he is a drop dead gorgeous hunk of male. That is rare to find these days and you act like you want him to drop off the face of the earth.
So, my friend, it’s time to give it up. I am stuck here with you both, and I don’t intend to walk on eggshells every moment.”
Suspending the brushing of her hair, Kaitlyn placed the brush on top of the dresser. She turned and looked at her friend’s earnest and obviously concerned face. While Angie had tried to keep her tone light, Kaitlyn could see the emotion in her eyes. She was just being her good friend… the best one, in fact.
Kaitlyn crossed over to one of the windows and looked out. It was her favorite time of day. The sun was just about to slide beyond the far hills. Everything was so peaceful, and the shadows were purpling and spreading across the yard and pasture beyond. In the distance, a couple of white-tail deer edged out of the tree line to find the sweeter grasses of the field. How she had missed this in the big city. No place… LA, New York, Rome… none could hold a candle to Texas. She was born here, and it was in her blood. She was suddenly afraid it wasn’t the only thing still in her blood. The thought unnerved her and she fought to keep her resolve from unraveling.
Kaitlyn kept her gaze out the window. “I knew him when we were—younger. Clay Morgan was a family friend. I haven’t seen him since the day I left to go to New York right after graduation. I never spoke of him because there was nothing to tell. I hadn’t given him a thought until he showed up today.” Liar. “It was just a combination of seeing someone I once knew, involved in a mystery about my gran’s sudden illness that threw me off balance. Besides, you know how much I don’t like surprises. And the last few hours have certainly been full of them.”
Kaitlyn could sense that maybe Angie was buying into this very watered-down version of the past, if only a little. So she had fabricated just a bit of it and glossed over other places. She smiled as she turned from the window.
“And as for knowing about this house, well, I drew it one day in Mrs. White’s fourth period biology class on a sheet of lined notebook paper. It was my dream house. I honestly thought I’d tossed that paper in the trash when I left the class.” Kaitlyn knew better about that one, too. She had taken it home and left it on the coffee table with her books. After feeding her animals, she’d come back to the house to find Clay had stopped by for some of her grandmother’s fresh lemonade. He had found the drawing. She walked into the living room and found him studying it. He had asked her about it. Her reply had been simple.
*
“Someday, this is the house I want to have, to live in it all the rest of my life.”
He looked at it again. “Well, it’s awfully big for one person.”
“Silly man.” Kaitlyn had taken it from him and dropped it on the table. Heading to the kitchen, she tossed back over her shoulder, “It will be big enough for a husband who adores me and the two boys and two girls we will have to fill it.”
*
Kaitlyn remembered him chuckling and then a few moments later he had followed her into the kitchen. The drawing was never mentioned again. Come to think of it, she had never seen the paper after that day. Kaitlyn had no idea where it had gone—until today. No matter. What would she do with a place like this anyway? Always on the go, she had her apartment in New York and a condo in Florida, and no family other than her gran, who refused to leave Texas. Therefore, it was good someone would be able to enjoy its beauty. Why then did she suddenly feel a dull ache? A sad feeling of something lost? It was just a house. She must be more drained from the emotions of the day than she realized.
“Stranger and stranger. I don’t know that I buy most of that, but I’ll let it go for now. I agree it’s been a day full of quite a few surprises. I hope your gran will be okay and come tomorrow you two will be able to have a good visit. I remember the first time I met her when she came to New York and we still lived in that shoebox of an apartment. Five flights of stairs but she never complained. And each evening she always had a wonderful dinner waiting for us, no matter how late we were coming in from the theatre. It was nice to have that feeling of home… if just for a while. This place reminds me of that, too.” Sliding off the bed, Angie moved to the door. Her hand rested on the doorknob. She turned back to Kaitlyn. “So, are these rangers really like the ones you see in movies on television? All tough and no nonsense? Riding off into the sunset to rescue someone? Because your Clay certainly fits that description.” Angie’s gaze moved to the window.
Kaitlyn gave her a half-smile. “There’s an old saying in Texas Ranger lore—‘one riot, one ranger.’ They’re the best of Texas lawmen. They do their jobs and don’t seek publicity. A ranger can always be depended upon, no matter what. I think if there is anything we can be certain of, Clay Morgan is dedicated first and foremost to his duty. Nothing can come between him and that.” A fact she knew only too well. “And he is not my anything.”
Angie gave Kaitlyn a considering look before one fine brow arched. “There’s that familiar line about a person who protests too much? That comes to my mind.” She turned back to the door. “I’m heading for a long soak before dinner. See you in a bit.”
A soak in a hot bath did sound good. Kaitlyn allowed a long sigh to escape. She wasn’t protesting anything too much… just stating a truth that people needed to hear. Closing her eyes, she bent her head and allowed a quiet moment to settle her thoughts as she breathed in the sweetness of the mass of roses someone had placed in her room—most likely the housekeeper’s thoughtfulness. Yellow roses had always been her favorite. Gran must have told her.
A light tap on the door brought her eyes up. Clay’s form filled the doorway. He did not immediately enter.
Kaitlyn caught her breath at the intense feelings his gaze immediately unleashed within her. His eyes were always her undoing. They were just as she remembered. She could feel herself being drawn into their hypnotic gaze like before. Why could he still affect her in such a way? Their golden depths were still as deep, but there seemed to be something different. A shadowing of their brilliance? Maybe that was what twelve years did to a person. Maturity replacing youth? Reality replacing foolish dreams? They had all changed. She certainly had. She trusted less and guarded her heart more. She had learned her lesson well. But then, Clay Morgan had been a good teacher.
Mentally, she shook herself. What did it matter now? Kaitlyn straightened from the flowers but instantly knew he had seen her enjoyment of them. She was also aware it gave him some sort of satisfaction by the softening glint in his eyes. Which of them would speak first? What was there to say?
It seemed an age before he finally took the lead. “I trust you’ll be comfortable here. I know this isn’t exactly what you planned for your holiday. Hopefully, Georgia’s procedure will go as planned and you and she will be able to have your visit and her mind will be at ease. Then you and Angie can be on your way again.” The polite host, yet watchful for her reaction.
“No, it wasn’t what we planned.” Kaitlyn hesitated.
Treat it as a role. As long as she saw this as just a part to play and then move on from, perhaps that way she’d get through it all. Her pulse was pounding a mile a minute in a room that had shrunk considerably.
“We’ll try to not inconvenience you too much by being here. I know you weren’t planning on us being here anymore than we were. Hopefully, we won’t have to be your guests for long. We do have important appointments to keep.” The words sounded too cold, but she couldn’t take them back… even if she wanted to.
Do I?
The light in his eyes darkened. Clay moved across the room to stand much too close to where she was by the window. He was close enough she could see the darker caramel-colored flecks in the depths of his mesmerizing eyes and smell a faint, yet all-too-familiar scent of cologne with its enticing mix of country scents and a promise of sinful nights. So he still wears my favorite? Kaitlyn wanted to back up. But if she did, he might get the idea she was affected more by his proximity than she wanted to admit. Besides, the edge of the bed was right behind her. Caught between Clay Morgan and a bed, imagine the hilarious irony of that. Except, no one was laughing, especially
not her.
His gaze travelled in a slow perusal from her hair, across her forehead, to search her eyes for much too long. It was as if he were seeking answers to an unspoken question. Then his gaze settled on her mouth. Her mind was playing tricks because she was almost certain she felt a caress across them… even though he had made no such move. She was sure everyone in the house, especially him, could hear the pounding which had erupted in her chest. The thought came to her clearly at that moment—if he kissed her—she would simply melt right into the spot where she stood. But he wouldn’t possibly do that. Will he? The answer came soon enough. Reaching his arm beside her, he drew out one long-stemmed rose from the vase, held it, breathing in its scent for a moment, his gaze still on her slightly parted lips.
“It’s no inconvenience, Kat.” The way Clay said her name brought sudden visions of silk sheets and moonlight and things best left alone. “My home is yours for as long as you want.” Then he simply turned and walked from the room, the door clicking softly closed behind him.
“As long as you want…” he’d said.
Well, someone else just might have something to say about that one. The breath she’d been holding slowly expelled from her lungs. Kaitlyn’s knees gave way, and she sank onto the side of the bed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped back on the covers. This was never going to work. It would end badly.
*
An hour later, freshened and having changed into a soft buttercup yellow silk tunic and white slacks, Kaitlyn left the confines of the bedroom and retraced her way downstairs. Reaching the foyer, she heard the faint sounds of dinner preparations from the kitchen, pots rattling and cabinets being opened and closed. She was still too keyed up to want the company of anyone—or to face any other “new” people at the moment. Too many feelings raced around and she moved onward, seeking the quiet of the wide veranda. Stepping outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh night air, letting the screen door close behind her with a whisper. A faint hint of jasmine and roses lifted on the breeze.
