Catherine

by Raine Cantrell

  “Sit down.”

  Greg sat with the air of a martyr tied to the stake.

  She refused to allow a bit of sympathy to surface.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back and put his feet up on the seat of the opposite chair. “You don’t object to my being comfortable, do you? I have a feeling we might be at this for a while. Even a condemned man has some rights.”

  “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “Nothing as offensive as you wearing that damn bonnet. Take it off. It’s an offense to every man’s eyes.”

  “Too bad. It’s my bonnet. I decide when to wear it, when to take it off, and—”

  “And if you think I’ll sit and listen to you vent whatever made you angry while you wear that ridiculous—”

  “Stop it.” Catherine closed her eyes, drew a deep breath and huffily exhaled. She removed the bonnet. “I want you to know,” she said, flinging the bonnet at him, “that it’s off so you won’t distract me from my purpose.”

  “Frankly, I don’t care why, so long as it’s gone.” She paced and he watched the sway of her hips. ‘‘Tell me.”

  “I have never, do you hear me, never been so humiliated in my life. You interfered in my business. What’s more, the whole town knows. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Ah, now we get to the heart of it.”

  “As if you didn’t know.” She glared at him, then her gaze slid to where her holstered gun hung.

  Greg thought about answering her without adding fuel to the fire. But what could he call himself? Her lover? A man who—devil take it, he didn’t even know what he was defending. “Catherine, if you sat down and explained the problem calmly—”

  “I don’t want to sit. I’m not calm. I’m angry and I feel betrayed. I want to strangle you. Or shoot you.” She gripped one of the chairs and faced him. “How dare you manage my money? Who gave you the right to pay my bills? How could you order my livestock feed? And the most grievous sin, you ordered clothing for me. Do you have any inkling of what you have done to me? No. How could you? You’re a…a man!”

  “I was the last time I looked.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  Greg eyed her white-knuckled grip on the chair. He nodded. “Catherine, I’ll endeavor to explain—”

  “Don’t endeavor. Just explain.”

  He attempted a smile, hoping to coax one from her, but the lady was not in a cooperative mood. “It’s simply a more efficient way for you to do business. I wanted to help you and you wouldn’t accept—”

  “If you dare say money, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do to you.”

  “All right. I won’t.” He looked directly into her eyes. They were so dark that he couldn’t separate the emotions. He didn’t understand why she was upset. What he’d done wasn’t so terrible. Everyone benefited. Mostly Catherine. “Did you speak with Buck?”

  “No. I saved myself that final indignity.”

  “Stop speaking like a heroine in those dime novels Suzanne’s always reading.”

  Her eyes cleared, sharpened. “I made no claim to heroic acts. And since you don’t like the way I talk, I won’t subject you to any more of it.”

  His chair fell in his hurry to go after her. He caught her in the hallway, spinning her around to face him. “You started this. Don’t be a coward, Catherine. Stay and finish.”

  “Now I’m a coward?”

  “You—”

  “Be quiet.” She poked her finger in his chest. “You’re the coward. Sneaking around behind my back like a thief. Stealing into my affections, stealing my hard-won independence. You made yourself a bed of thorns, Mayfield. Sleep alone in it.” She jerked away from him, but he wouldn’t release her.

  “Damn it, Catherine, I thought you had more sense. I want to take care of you. I wanted—”

  “I don’t care what you want. But you’re right. I lost good sense the moment you arrived. But I found it now. Leave or stay, win your bet or lose it, I simply don’t care. All my life I’ve lived with men ordering me. You took over, just like them. You couldn’t wait for me to decide. And it was my decision to make.”

  “Catherine, look at me.” He subdued her struggles until she raised wounded blue eyes to look at him. “I hated that stupid bet with my sister, but it brought me something I thought I’d never find.”

  “That makes two of us,” she snapped. “I never thought any man would have the opportunity to betray me, to make me feel I don’t have the sense of…of Miss Lily. But you did that to me. You make me feel I have cotton for brains. I don’t need you to order my life. I liked it fine the way it was.”

  His smile died on his lips. “I never meant to hurt you. You see, I met a woman, an exceptional woman whom I admired, respected and wished to keep beside me. I wanted to buy the world and lay it at her feet. I did the only things I could. If you can’t accept—”

  “I don’t accept. Can’t you understand?” she pleaded, renewing her struggle to be free. “You humiliated me. You branded me a kept woman. A fallen angel. A soiled dove. I will never be able to hold my head up after you leave. Those are the wonderful things you did for me, Mayfield.”

  “No. Buck Purcell spread the word that you and I are partners.”

  She sagged against him, feeling faint. “Partners?” she whispered. No sooner had her head rested against his chest than she reared back to search his face for the truth. It was there in his eyes, bright as could be. She didn’t want to see or admit what else shimmered in the depths of his dark green eyes.

  “I had to protect you from the very gossip you feared. It’s perfectly believable. My reputation didn’t remain a secret. I’ve had more business deals offered me than I have time to sort them.”

  “Partners,” she repeated in a stunned voice. But instead of calming her, the word, the very idea infuriated her.

  Greg, thinking he’d rather sweep her into his arms and seduce his way back into her good graces, held still and silent. He had learned that Catherine would not be pushed in any direction she didn’t want to go. He had become fond—no, too mild a description—he loved the way she came to him. Sometimes teasing like the veriest wanton, or with laughter in her eyes, on her lips, playful, tender, lovable Catherine. He couldn’t lose what he had found with her. Wouldn’t.

  The thought stunned him. When had he ever wanted a woman so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her? And if that was true, there was a question he didn’t, couldn’t answer without asking one other of her. Catherine wasn’t ready to hear that question. And he wasn’t ready to ask it.

  “Catherine, you understand now that there’s been no harm done.”

  “No harm done.”

  He frowned. He couldn’t identify the note in her voice. Her gaze was unfocused. He grew concerned, then dismissed it. She was simply shocked by his reasonable explanation. Women didn’t think the way men did. Thank the Lord. Especially men who protected the woman they cared for at all costs.

  “Will you let me go?” she asked.

  “Catherine, I—”

  “Please let go of me.”

  He released her and stepped back, ready for her to bolt. She didn’t. A wry smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. Just like a woman, never doing what you expected her to do.

  “Come into the parlor, no, the kitchen will suit for what I have to say, Mr. Mayfield.”

  Mr. Mayfield? Serious and formal? Where had he gone wrong? Tell her you love her. She disappeared into the kitchen. He stood stock-still in the hall. Love?

  He loved a woman who goaded him beyond endurance? How could he love a woman who demanded his respect for standing up to him, while she drove him crazy with her notions of female independence? Love had nothing to do with the lust she stirred with a glance. Love, hell! He wasn’t about to fall into that parson’s trap.

  But if it wasn’t love, then why was he meekly following her into the kitchen? Did he have some mysterious need to torment himself? Did he want to be do
minated by a woman?

  Heaven forbid. And then he remembered that she said he could pack and leave. Those were not the words of a woman in love.

  Enough about love. They would settle this unfortunate matter, go upstairs and spend the rest of the afternoon in bed. He was a man in command. But Catherine stood with her back toward him, looking out the window. She didn’t turn, not even when he cleared his throat. Nor did she see his surprised expression when she spoke.

  “Are you a gambling man, Mayfield?”

  Less loverlike words he’d never heard. He had to break this habit of Catherine being the first woman in far too many things. Before he replied, she spoke again.

  “You are a man of business, one who thrives on challenges. You risked your health on a bet. That makes you a reckless man.”

  If she had cursed him he couldn’t feel more insulted by her sarcastic voice. “And?” he intoned coldly.

  “And I have a bet for you—partner,” she added as she turned around to face him.

  “Go on. I haven’t had a good laugh all day.”

  “So you’re finally angry. Good. Now you understand how I feel. And you won’t be laughing when I’m through with you.”

  “I thought you were. Pardon me, Mrs. Hill, for the error. I judged you to be finished as finished could be.”

  “An expected male response.”

  He eyed her calm expression and the hands she placed on her hips. “Pardon me. I can’t help my response. I would suggest you have your eyes examined. You require spectacles for that inane remark. Male responses to provoking female idiocy are natural when one is a man.”

  “I refuse to engage in a name-calling contest.”

  “You can’t know how that reassures me. But, please, continue. Something about a bet?”

  “Yes. You won’t listen. You refuse to understand what you did to me. Perhaps you’re not too thickheaded to be shown the error of your high-handed ways.”

  “No name-calling?” But he spoke without heat, for she looked so desirable at that moment, he had all he could do to stop himself from crossing the room to her. Anger flushed her cheeks and put a militant sparkle in her eyes. Her stiff bearing, even her cool, formal voice stirred his blood.

  But there was an element of fear creeping inside him. He needed to halt this nonsense right now. He didn’t want to risk losing Catherine on some silly, connived bet. One was enough for any man. Pride came into play.

  It certainly wasn’t to his rescue.

  “Reckless, am I?”

  The edgy tone of his voice, the flat look in his eyes pierced her anger. “You’re really angry now?”

  “Once more allow me to congratulate you on your keen observation of the male of the species.”

  “You have no right to be. You betrayed my trust.”

  For an instant his gaze was lethal, then it was gone. Catherine wasn’t about to back down. He could take his temper all the way back to New York with him.

  “I propose an arrangement—”

  “No. You said a bet. A bet it will be, Catherine.”

  “Don’t dictate terms to me.”

  “Do I beg your pardon again? Have I trespassed upon some feminine reserve?”

  “Yes. No. Stop it. You’re confusing the issue. I won’t stand for it.” She slapped the dry sink for emphasis. His arched brow made mockery of her resolve. She faltered, then rallied. “You said we were partners. Partners treat each other with respect. A partner treats the other as an equal. That’s what I want from this bet. For you to agree to that.”

  “And what devilish ploy is going to gain these results?”

  She smiled. “A simple bet. You and I will have a building contest. Chasing the hens all over the barn to gather eggs is not efficient. I propose—”

  “No. Say bet, Catherine. That’s what it is. And you can’t know how glad I am to hear you agree with me on that point. I was beginning to think I was a stupid male. But do forgive me for once more interrupting you. Continue. I’m fascinated.”

  “You’re laughing at me, Mayfield. But not for long. You will build a henhouse and I will do the same. We won’t judge the results. Since you involved the whole town in our so-called partnership, they can judge. And may the best—”

  “You’re female. Remember?” I do. I can’t forget.

  “I was going to say may the best one win.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Like hell!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  He stalked her around the kitchen, finally bringing her to bay in the pantry, which suited his purpose. He herded her into the corner. His hands locked on the shelves on either side of her so she could not escape.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Mayfield?”

  “I’m going to make you a counteroffer. Good, sound business practice. Never accept the first set of terms.”

  “You’re going to make me an indecent proposal?”

  He could cheerfully have throttled her. There was a definite spark of excitement in her eyes at the thought. “If I do, would you accept?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. Catherine squared her shoulders. “That would depend on your terms.”

  Greg called for patience and pride, and a mustering of good intentions. “Let me explain a few truths to you about men and about bets. Yours lacks a certain savoir faire. You need excitement in your terms, Catherine. You need to offer a prize worth going after. I see your point, but it’s all one-sided. You need to give a man something he wants that he’ll risk his reputation for. You want me to commit myself to physical work that I know nothing about. You want to expose me to ridicule without a prize worth the effort.”

  She would have nodded but there was cunning in those warrior’s eyes. She listened and warned herself to be careful when she did speak.

  “You understand the principle of work and reward.”

  “What did you have in mind, Mayfield?”

  “Nothing indecent.” He fought a smile when she lifted her chin, a sure sign she was ready to do battle. He wasn’t about to gloat over his near victory. But his militant female with her prickly notions of equality was well and truly cornered. “I’m a reasonable man. Don’t you dare dispute that. Just listen. You want to be treated as my equal. That’s difficult. I was raised to take care of the weaker sex. To give my protection when it’s needed, to honor them, to—”

  “You’ve made your point. I never said you had no redeeming qualities.” She cast her gaze toward heaven, fighting the dizzying sensation of having him so close. He was breathing her very air. If he didn’t hurry and finish so she could escape, she would shame her sex under this not-so-subtle assault to her senses.

  “I’m glad you think so. I want the partnership made permanent.”

  “Permanent?” she parroted. Her brow knit, and she stared at him, puzzled. His expression offered no clue. “I don’t understand. Why would you want a share of my egg business? It doesn’t bring in your pocket change.”

  “That is one of the things I love about you. You always make me smile, Catherine.” Amused indulgence gleamed in his eyes as he brushed his lips over hers. “Luscious,” he murmured, and took another taste.

  “Stop. You’re taking unfair advantage.”

  “With you, I’ll steal whatever I can get.”

  Catherine couldn’t muster a seed’s worth of doubt. She feared giving him one more advantage. She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. Panic replaced fear. He’d start kissing her and she’d be babbling yes to anything he said.

  “Finish, Mayfield.”

  “I want you, Catherine Rose Hill, to be my permanent lifelong partner.” He had said it. No recall allowed. No agonizing over his feelings or the question. Ready or not, he had asked.

  “Goodness! You can’t be…but you are. You are talking about m-m—” She couldn’t say the word.

  “I surprised you. Threw you off balance a little. Good. Now you know how I’ve felt. There is nothing devio
us about my offer. Just a simple question for you to answer. We will enjoy this partnership, love.”

  “You are mad.”

  “A little madness adds spice.” He nuzzled her ear. “We have magic between us.” Her nose required a kiss. “I was captivated from the first. You are a magnificent woman, Catherine.” A touch of his lips closed her eyes.

  “I adore you when you are biddable. I’ll be your shelter through life’s storms. If you say no, I’ll be struck with an incurable malady, much worse than the one that sent me here to recover. No one makes me laugh as you do. I know I give you joy in return.

  “Just keep your eyes closed and imagine the grand opportunity I offer you. You are a managing female. I freely offer you me to manage all you like. I’ll give you carte blanche. Think of all the good you could do with my money. You need only say yes.”

  In a softer, rich, mellow voice, he added enticements. “I come with a mansion in New York, more wealth than I can use, and offer matchless devotion. Life will never be boring for us. We’ll travel. I’ll buy whatever strikes your fancy. I’ll buy a few hundred acres and build you a summer farm on the banks of the Hudson River. A showplace, Catherine, to rival those of the robber barons.

  “I need your merriment, even your mercurial moods to make my life complete. I’ll add another enticement. You felt so strongly about Suzanne’s effort with the league that you can join her without interference from me.”

  He drew a shaken breath. Was it only the press of his body against hers that held her upright? She was pale, her breathing close to panting, and he feared she would faint. But he had the advantage with her cornered, and if he didn’t finish this now, he might rethink this most impulsive act. He dug deep for courage and called upon all he knew. Business taught there was always a skirmish or two to lose. What mattered was winning in the end. But Catherine wasn’t business. And he’d never had a woman beguile and infuriate him at the same time.

  “Catherine, say something. Argue. Discuss this. I’ll even…” He couldn’t say it. Say it! Say it! a malicious voice gleefully demanded. Growing desperation forced the words from him. “You can bring Lord Romeo and his harem with you.”