by Brenda Novak
“I don’t know anything about bookkeeping, either.”
“He’ll teach you.”
“I’m not going out there.” She didn’t want to see anyone in her current state, but she especially didn’t want to see the man she’d always hoped to marry.
“Oh, yes you are.”
“Does he know about the baby?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
“I’ll go anywhere but there.”
“Come on,” he said. “This is the man of your dreams, remember?”
She definitely detected sarcasm in his voice. Men weren’t part of her dreams at all anymore, but she didn’t feel quick-witted enough to explain that right now. “He’s seeing Mary Thornton, so don’t talk to me about my dreams.”
“There’s no accounting for taste.” Booker jabbed a finger at the small brown sack he’d brought in with him. “There’s a deli sandwich in there. Eat it, then go shower.”
“Okay,” she said, but only so he’d leave her in peace. As soon as she heard him move away, she grabbed the covers he’d thrown off the bed and burrowed beneath them again. Mike Hill…No way!
“Katie?” Booker spoke from the doorway, his tone a warning.
“I thought you’d left,” she grumbled.
“Don’t make me drag you out.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“That’s it.” He stomped back to the side of her bed and yanked off her covers. Then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet as though she were a child.
Katie’s legs didn’t feel strong enough to support her. She swayed and nearly crumpled, but Booker caught her against him. For a moment, before she came to her senses, she wanted to grab him and hold on for dear life. He had more street smarts than anyone she’d ever met. He was tough. And he was always his own man.
After living with a chameleon like Andy, Katie admired that. Booker was probably the only person she knew who did what he wanted and offered no lies, excuses or apologies. To anyone.
And he could be gentle. She remembered the way he’d lightly rub his whiskers on her neck while they were watching TV, then chuckle deep in his throat when she tried to fend him off. They’d end up laughing and wrestling until—
She didn’t want to remember what happened next. She’d been right to break things off with Booker. If only her intuition hadn’t abandoned her when it came to Andy…
She needed to go back to bed.
“Don’t even think about it,” Booker said when she tried to slip out of his arms. “You’re going to get cleaned up, and you’re going to do it now.”
“Yes, sir.” She tried to salute in response to his commanding tone, but she made no effort to stand by herself, let alone walk toward the bathroom.
“We can do this the hard way. Or we can do it the easy way,” he said. “Which will it be?”
Katie wasn’t sure what he was talking about. There wasn’t an easy way for anything anymore. “I told you, I’ll get up tomorrow,” she said. “I just need a little more time.”
“You need a shower, that’s what you need.” He was impatient now, and who could blame him? He was the last person she had any right to impose on. At twenty-five, she had no right to impose on anyone. But she couldn’t stay with Andy, she couldn’t work, and she couldn’t rely on any of the people who were supposed to love her. She didn’t seem to have a whole lot of options. Who would’ve thought one tiny baby could make such a difference? She should never have let her birth control lapse. She wouldn’t have, if she and Andy had been making love. But before they created this baby, they hadn’t touched in weeks. Then one day Andy broke down crying, acknowledged his need for help, agreed to go into rehab, and begged and pleaded with her to make love with him one more time to prove that she was willing to forgive him. Katie had been stupid enough to feel sorry for him, to want to console him. And they’d used a condom, but it hadn’t been enough.
Booker sat her on the bed and stalked into the bathroom. The pipes clanged as the water went on a few seconds later. She could hear him moving around, walking in and out of the room, but she wrapped herself in the covers and paid no attention.
When he returned, he didn’t drag her off the bed again. He merely pushed the bedding away and started pulling off the sweatshirt she’d been wearing, with nothing but a pair of panties, for two days.
She used her arms to block him before he could discover that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” he asked. “Since you won’t get up and take a shower, I’m going to give you a bath.”
“Don’t you think I’m a bit too old for that?”
“You’re not leaving me any alternative.”
“Fine. Good luck.” Strangely indifferent, she dropped her arms. He’d seen her naked before. He didn’t seem particularly interested in seeing her again. And she had no energy with which to fight him. A woman had to care to be humiliated, and Katie simply didn’t.
Cursing, he left her sweatshirt on and lifted her in his arms.
When they reached the bathroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and cringed. No wonder Booker wasn’t impressed enough to continue undressing her. She didn’t know any man who would be. She hadn’t showered for three days, and she’d brushed her teeth only once or twice.
Turning her face resolutely from the sight of her dirty hair and sunken cheeks, she let him place her on the closed lid of the toilet while he tested the water.
After he’d adjusted the temperature, he propped his hands on his hips, looking like some kind of bouncer. “Take your clothes off and get in.”
She didn’t move.
“Now,” he said.
She was too numb to feel anything, so it came as quite a shock when tears began to slide down her cheeks. Especially because she couldn’t do anything to stop them.
A pained expression appeared on Booker’s face, telling her he’d definitely noticed, but he didn’t back off. “Are you going to get undressed, or am I going to have to do it for you?”
A tear dripped off her chin as she stared at the water in the tub.
“Katie, I think you’d rather do this next part on your own,” he said. “But if you want my hands all over your body, then…”
She dashed a hand across her cheeks, sniffed and peeled off her sweatshirt.
Booker’s eyes dipped briefly to what she revealed, but his expression remained implacable. “Hurry up,” he said.
With a deep breath, she stood and started pulling down her panties, and he finally stepped out. It was easier to obey than fight—especially because he banged on the door every few minutes to keep her moving.
When she finally finished the laborious process of washing herself, she pulled the plug on the drain. It took several more minutes, and another pounding on the door by Booker, before she could summon the energy to stand.
As soon as she’d wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door, Booker half-dragged her into the bedroom. “What do you want to wear?”
She thought of her only shoes, and Mary Thornton’s snide comment, There’s snow on the ground, silly…. “Sweats.”
“To a job interview? Glad to see your sense of humor is returning.” He let her lie back while he rummaged through her suitcase. “You couldn’t have unpacked this stuff?”
“I didn’t think I’d be staying long enough.”
“From what I can tell, it doesn’t look as though you’re leaving anytime soon.”
“That’s the problem,” she muttered, but she had to admit she felt slightly better now that she was clean.
He brought her fresh bikini underwear, a lacy bra, some jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. “This stuff okay?”
“Does it go with sandals?”
“How the hell should I know? Popular Mechanics doesn’t exactly cover that.”
She laughed, actually laughed, at the thought of Booker becoming any kind of fashion guru, and that gave her the strength
to move again. Sitting up, she continued to clasp the towel around her. “I guess that outfit’s as good as any,” she said. “We’re only talking about a stud ranch.”
“Exactly.” He handed them to her. “If I leave, can I trust you to get dressed?”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t, I’ll take you to see Mike Hill just as you are now.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt he’ll care about seeing me naked any more than you did.”
Something flickered across Booker’s face, some expression Katie couldn’t have named if she tried. “Just hurry,” he said. “Your appointment’s in less than an hour, you still have to eat, and we’re going to stop off and buy you some boots.”
CHAPTER SIX
BOOKER FELT A GREAT DEAL of relief when Katie emerged from the kitchen. She’d taken her time getting dressed and eating, but at least she’d managed to get ready. Now, with the blue of her eyes more vivid than ever because of the paleness of her skin, she looked downright pretty in a fragile sort of way. Not that he wanted to notice.
“Did you have enough lunch?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Good.”
“This seems rather sudden,” she said as he guided her out of the house and across the driveway to where he’d parked his truck. “Is it—is it a formal interview?”
It was more like a favor from Rebecca and the Hill brothers, but Booker was afraid Katie would go right back to bed if he admitted that. Mike had said he’d be happy to help, and Rebecca had called later to say it was all arranged.
“I don’t think they’ll be too hard on you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. “They know you, know what you can do.”
“I cut hair,” she said pointedly.
He let her get in the truck without assistance but closed her door. “Don’t you know how to use a computer?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel.
She seemed to consider the question. “I’m pretty good on one,” she said a moment later.
“Then you can do computer work.”
“I’m savvy on the Internet. I can find what I want, pay my bills online and reconcile my checkbook, but I’m not very familiar with business-related programs.”
“You can learn.” He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. “At least it’s a job.”
“Right. A job.”
They drove in silence for several minutes.
“But a job won’t solve everything,” she blurted when they turned onto the main highway. “At least not right away.”
Booker propped an arm over the steering wheel and refused to let himself glance at Katie. Whenever he looked at her, he remembered the way he’d wanted things to be and couldn’t believe how different they actually were. “What do you mean?”
“In order to get an apartment, I’m going to need first and last month’s rent and a security deposit,” she said, her voice full of worry. “And the baby comes in only four months.”
Rebecca had mentioned something about a place where Katie could live. But nothing had been resolved in that area, so he said, “First things first,” and simply hoped Rebecca would come through.
As Booker drove, he let his mind wander to another troubling subject. Rebecca had asked him earlier what doctor Katie was planning to see. He’d told her it was none of his concern, but she knew as well as he did that wasn’t entirely true. Katie didn’t have any money and she hadn’t been working recently, which meant she probably didn’t have medical insurance. So how was she going to pay for the care she needed?
“Rebecca told me you should find a doctor right away,” he said as they came into town. “Do you have any idea who you’re going to see?”
Katie shrugged and kept her face averted.
“You don’t know?” he pressed.
“Maybe Dr. Hatcher.” Her voice sounded noncommittal.
Booker couldn’t help the frown that tugged at his lips. Hatcher? He definitely didn’t want her seeing Hatcher. Just after Katie left town, the Pruitts filed a malpractice suit against Hatcher for misdiagnosing a serious disease and prescribing the wrong medicine for their six-year-old. Granted, that illness might have had little to do with delivering babies, and the charges were eventually dropped, but Booker knew Hatcher had problems. “From what I hear, he’s a drunk,” he said.
“Well, unless another doctor’s moved to town, there isn’t anyone else close by. And I can’t drive all the way to Boise. My car’s too old to keep making that trip.”
Booker had to agree with her there. He’d had Chase put a lot of time into that car, and he still didn’t trust it. The parts he hadn’t replaced were old, and he didn’t think the car had ever been properly maintained.
“Maybe someone from Hair and Now can give you a ride when you have an appointment, or let you borrow a car,” he suggested. Hell, he’d be willing to let her take Hatty’s car. He had his truck and his Harley. Except he was working on getting out of Katie’s life….
“Hatcher can’t be that bad,” she said. “He delivered me. And I think he might let me make payments.”
She was already having trouble with the pregnancy. Booker couldn’t see her taking the risk. But what Katie did or didn’t do wasn’t any of his business.
Even though it was difficult, Booker purposely clamped his mouth shut and pulled into Saba’s Western Wear, the only clothing and boot outlet in town.
SITTING ACROSS MIKE’S wide and rather cluttered desk, surrounded by expensive wood paneling and framed pictures of horses with ribbons on almost every wall, Katie sat rigidly in her stiff, new boots while she waited for him to end the phone call that had interrupted them shortly after she sat down.
“…We have two of the best stallions in the country right here…. Yes, I’ve heard that…. Well, sir, you get what you pay for…. We have quite a few mares coming in that week already, so you might want to let us know as soon as possible…. Sure, no problem.”
Hanging up, he smiled at her. “Where were we?”
“We were, um…talking about my hours,” she said, scrambling to recall where they’d left off. She’d become a little distracted watching Mike and remembering all the times she’d followed him around when she was just a girl, spying on him with her friends. She could see that he’d aged a bit while she was gone. The lines bracketing his eyes and mouth were more pronounced, but they did nothing to detract from the chiseled planes and angles of his face.
“Right, hours,” he said. “You could do a normal work-day from, say, eight to four. Or you could come in a little later, if you’d like.”
Katie didn’t dare tell him she had trouble getting out of bed regardless of the time. She hoped that wouldn’t last. And he was being so flexible! She’d already told him she didn’t know anything about any of the computer programs he’d named, and he’d said it didn’t matter. He was happy just to have her back up the girl who was already answering the phones and doing the filing. At fifteen dollars an hour, she wouldn’t be making nearly as much as when she did hair, especially when she’d worked in San Francisco. But in Dundee, she could definitely get by on a salary like that.
She could even raise a child.
Feeling the fear that had spread through her recede just a bit, she smiled more freely. A job would make such a difference. It might not fix everything all at once, but it would enable her to rebuild her life, halt her downward spiral.
Katie knew she’d work any hours Mike required, but as long as he was giving her a choice, she wanted to pick the schedule that would help her be the most dependable. “I think nine to five might be best. That way I’d have some extra time in the mornings, in case there’s snow on the road. I’m not sure exactly where I’ll be living yet, but the ranch is a bit of a drive from town. Not that I mind driving—”
“Rebecca didn’t tell you?” he interrupted.
“Rebecca?” Katie echoed.
“She’s reserved one of the cabins for you to live in. You won’t have to drive anywhere.”<
br />
“What cabins?”
“The cabins we built out back a year ago. They’re primarily for the cowboys we hire during breeding season, but—”
“Isn’t breeding season coming up?”
“It is.” He shuffled a few papers around on his desk. “But I’m sure we can make do.”
Make do? Not many employers tried so hard to accommodate a new hire, at least not one coming in at entry level. “How much is the rent?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about the rent. It’s part of your salary.”
“You’re going to pay me fifteen dollars an hour and provide a place for me to live? And all I have to do is back up the person you’ve got filing and answering phones, and do it according to whatever schedule is best for me?”
He hesitated as though unsure of the edge in her voice. “That’s the plan, I guess. For the next few months, anyway.”
“Until I have the baby.”
He showed no surprise when she mentioned the baby, confirming the fact that he already knew. “You’ll probably want to go back to doing hair after that, right?”
She could tell he was hoping her answer would be yes, providing further proof that she wouldn’t be fulfilling any real need on his end.
Suddenly her stomach hurt, reminding her of the early labor pains she’d suffered, and she feared her anxiety might bring them back. In any case, it was difficult to breathe. “So this isn’t a job interview at all.”
“Pardon me?”
“This is a handout.”
He looked uncomfortable. “It’s not a handout, exactly, Kate. I mean, there’s no reason to look at it like that. We can always use some extra help around here. And…with a baby on the way, you…well, it’s no trouble to let you live in one of the cabins until you get back on your feet.”
“Who asked you to hire me?” she asked.
“No one.”
She gave him a “we both know better than that” look.
“Well, Booker mentioned it to Rebecca,” he said, backing off. “Then Rebecca called me. But I don’t mind, really. Neither does Josh. Hell, I’m sure Conner and Delaney would let you stay out at the Running Y, if you’d rather.”
