by Unknown
When she looked at Taylor, it was like seeing her father all over again. She’d inherited her maternal grandmother’s fairness, but Taylor was a carbon copy of their father. With blue-black hair that fell past his collar and waved to one side of a high, intelligent forehead and deep-set, fierce blue eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes, his looks were outstanding.
In high school, he’d made every girl’s heart throb. But Taylor hadn’t had time for girls. He’d been into dirt bikes, rock climbing, camping, and hiking. Give him the woods or the mountains and he was in hog heaven.
She sighed. She wanted Jace to like her brother, but she’d created a situation that made it impossible for the two men to like one another. It was something she needed to fix and couldn’t. Not right now.
Shrugging away the troubling thoughts, she started helping Jace pile luggage off the truck bed. She unloaded the folded wheelchair Taylor still had problems accepting. It was a clumsy, bulky, and heavy item to handle.
Without even looking at the object, Jace took it from her, opened it to its full width, rolled it over to Taylor, and left it for him to get in on his own.
He returned to her side, a frown on his face. “Doesn’t have much to say for himself,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t like the way he talks to you.”
She bit her lip. “It’s my concern. I know how to handle my brother. I’m used to the way he talks to me.”
“I’m not!” He swore under his breath. “It doesn’t work like that, Kaycee. I don’t have to search hard for a reason to dislike your brother. The reason is standing right in front of me. Everything concerning you concerns me. It’s the way it is.”
“No, Jace.” She shook her head. “If Jillian isn’t my concern, then Taylor isn’t yours. That’s the way it works for me.”
He rubbed his jaw, coughed and grinned. “Every now and then, you surprise me with your mulish attitude.”
“My mulish attitude? So speaks King of Stubborn.”
He laughed. “And don’t you forget it.”
“You’re right. I can’t expect to shut you out of my problems, but you can’t close me out of your troubles, either. It won’t work. It will destroy any chance we have of saving this marriage.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “So, you think we stand a chance of making it work?”
“Who knows? But if we keep secrets from each other, it sure won’t work between us.”
“Look, darlin,’ I don’t want you touched by Jillian in any way. She’s trouble. The less you know about her the better off you’ll be. Keep your distance.”
“I’ll do my best to avoid her until I can’t.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“When I can no longer steer clear of her, I’ll get her outta my face.”
“Shit.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and went to help Taylor into his wheelchair.
She made herself meet her brother’s black look, but her mind was on Jace. If he thought for an instant she’d allow Jillian to intimidate her, then he’d picked the wrong female for his wife. No one else was backing her into a corner again.
Trying to focus her attention on Taylor, she watched his expression change to cold withdrawal. He’d heard Jace’s comments against his character. She sighed. Welcome to Paradise, she thought cynically. And wondered exactly how many serpents were incognito on the Dancing Star?
Was she one?
Inwardly, she smiled. Maybe.
She got the feeling that from time to time she surprised Jace. Well, so be it. Surprises happened when one married a stranger. If he was under the mistaken impression she was a delicate, little sunflower that wilted when the sun got too hot, boy, was he in for some shocking wakeup calls.
Just because Smitt Davis pulled what he did on her didn’t mean she was weak. He’d simply caught her by surprise. She’d be prepared if there was ever a next time.
She turned a critical eye on her brother. It was past time Taylor faced up to what his life had become, too. He couldn’t continue blaming her and the world for his tragedy. It happened. It was over. He needed to move past it and get on with his life.
She set her jaw in determination. Her brother needed physical therapy, and he was going to get it no matter how much he protested the fact.
At the same time, she wanted to smack Jace for being so cruel and thoughtless. She didn’t enjoy seeing the stillness or deep pain reflected on her brother’s dark face. He was right. He wasn’t deaf or blind. He had feelings, too.
She watched in silence as her brother struggled to lower himself into the wheelchair. He’d only rebuff her help if she offered, so she wasn’t about to offer herself up as a human sacrifice for his verbal abuse. She understood the look of withdrawal in his eyes, felt his pain, but until his attitude changed toward her, she planned on being very cautious around him.
His meanness might be an attempt to insulate his pride from the injuries struck at his manhood, but she wasn’t about to place herself in the path of a wasp. She’d been stung by him too many times.
Feeling guilty, she jumped when Jace unexpectedly and gently touched her arm. “I’ll push him across the yard,” he said quietly.
She jerked away. “I can do it!” To her dismay, her voice hinted at unshed tears.
“Is there some reason he can’t roll himself across the yard?” he asked quietly. “Are his arms paralyzed as well as his legs?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, Mr. Remington.” She jerked away from him and lifted her chin a notch higher. “Taylor needs my help.”
“Yeah? Well, careful you don’t make him a bigger cripple than he already is, sweetheart. You’re not helping him by waiting on him hand and foot. He can do some things for himself. It’s a lot healthier for him to be independent.”
“What do you know about it?” she snapped. “You know nothing about my brother or me.”
He leaned close. “I know how you sound when you climax in my arms, darlin’. I know all the little kittenish cries you make when I’m moving inside you, all the sighs.”
“Shut up!”
He tugged a strand of her hair. “I know I can’t wait to feel you beneath me again and hear those little cries and sighs from your sweet mouth.”
She whirled to face him, give him a good tongue lashing, but the words died in her throat at the sudden grin twisting his lips. He said nothing more, merely lifted a brow and brushed past her to lead the way.
Taylor turned and looked back over his shoulder at her. Scowling, he sneered. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not hard of hearing. My ears aren’t paralyzed.”
“Maybe you need to be deaf!”
He snorted. “If you and the cowboy are going to discuss your sex life in front of me, then yeah, I might have to lose my hearing.”
She scowled. “We were not discussing our sex life!”
“Sure sounded like it to me.”
“Then something is wrong with your hearing.”
She grabbed the handles of the chair and followed Jace across the grassy yard.
Jace slid his hands inside his pockets and led the way across the yard. Normally, the smaller ranch house wasn’t used for employees. In years past, it housed the foreman’s, and before that, his great-grandparents. It was the only original structure left on the property from the late 1800s.
Sentimental reasons alone kept him from having it torn down. One day, he’d replace it with something else, something better. He hadn’t determined exactly what, yet.
Although he knew it was no excuse, upon returning from Reno, the helplessness and frustration he felt at leaving his new bride behind hit him hard. He didn’t like the idea of keeping their marriage a secret. His first thought was to teach her a lesson once she arrived at the Dancing Star.
She wanted them to pretend they were strangers. Fine. Then she’d get exactly what she wanted. He’d behave as if he had no feelings for her whatsoever, starting with her housing.
He knew now he shouldn�
��t have allowed his anger and hurt to mar his better judgment, but he’d decided Kaycee and her brother could live in the old house. His wife didn’t want special treatment, then by God she wouldn’t get it.
With Jillian now aware of their marriage, it was going to be a very short-lived secret and everyone was going to wonder why his wife and brother-in-law were living in the rickety old house.
He mulled over what was going to take place very shortly. It didn’t matter Kaycee had asked for separate living quarters for her and her brother, he was going to end up looking like an idiot, and she wasn’t going to be very pleased with where he put them.
Okay. He was giving her exactly what she’d requested.
So why did he feel like an ass?
Simple. Because he was an ass, as Duel would say.
He smothered a groan. He’d promised to give her some time. He hoped she didn’t take forever making up her mind.
Damn it! He should have made room for them at the main house no matter what his stubborn little wife said.
What had he been thinking?
He’d left himself vulnerable for Jillian’s little games.
God, he was in such deep shit.
Choosing the older house for his wife and her brother had not only been a form of revenge, but also for his peace of mind. He didn’t know if he could have Kaycee living in the main house with him and not touch her. The old house was the ‘safest’ place to install her.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
Out of reach.
He snorted.
Not very damn likely.
Watching the horrified expression spread across her face as he stopped in front of the old house, he knew he was in serious trouble here. Oh, yeah, she might be out of sight, mind and reach, but she was also royally pissed at him.
Noting the faded and chipped paint on the house, knowing the roof leaked, and the floors were buckled and warped, he regretted his petty spite and need for revenge.
He ground his teeth. Putting his wife in a house that was barely standing wasn’t going to win him Boy Scout points. Idiot! To make matters worse, everyone on the frickin’ ranch knew there were comfortable quarters available at the main house. There were six bedrooms on the third floor, only two were occupied. One by the cook, Lilly Roberts, and another by a retired foreman, Charley Reese, usually the accountant occupied one as well.
Still, it was too late to alter plans after he’d had several employees clean up the place. His wife considered herself an ordinary employee. He was merely following her instructions. Yeah, right. He’d gone a bit overboard.
He wished now he’d done things differently. Maybe then this miserable knot strapped around his guts would loosen and go away. Leave him in peace.
He paused to help Kaycee lift Taylor and the wheelchair onto the rickety porch, then stepped around her to open the door. He didn’t know which of them was more stunned when the screen door toppled off its rusty hinges and crashed to the porch with a resounding bang. Great! Sure, why not? What next? The roof caves in on top of them?
No way was he about to meet his wife’s startled eyes. He felt her ambivalent gaze on him and swore beneath his breath. What a prize he’d turned out to be. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she marched right back to the piece-of-shit truck she drove to Montana, got in, and headed straight back to Reno. He deserved the contempt he knew was plastered on her face.
Kaycee stepped around the toppled screen door and pushed Taylor’s wheelchair through the open doorway. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so she tried desperately to keep her gaze directed straight ahead and concentrated on the room as they entered the house.
She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. Oh, but she’d asked for it, she reminded herself. And damn, if he wasn’t giving it to her in spades. She could hardly blame Jace for putting her in such lousy living arrangements.
Fighting the urge to simply sit down and have a nice scream, she concentrated on looking around. The first room was a small living area, room for a sofa, recliner, television, a couple of stands and that was it. The two windows, small and crusted with years of dirt, were as barren and plain as her great Aunt Nellie. Beyond that, another door led off to what she supposed represented a kitchen.
A small, two-burner stove stood crookedly against the wall. It reminded her of a drunk. The oven door sagged in the opposite direction giving it a somewhat, comical, whap-sided appearance. The tiny refrigerator growled like a disgruntled old man in a far corner. The racket it made was enough to frighten the mice.
She’d bet her last ten cents those nasty little critters were bunked down inside the walls good and snug and not about to give up their homes.
There was scant cabinet space, and what there was, either had the doors missing completely or sagged as drunkenly as the stove.
An oversized sink gaped back, the open jaws of a rust-colored monster below the kitchen window. Surprising enough, thin wispy curtains fluttered in the breeze of the raised window. Not surprising was the fact the curtains were strung across the view with what looked to be twine.
A bouquet of dried flowers crammed in a chipped vase rested in the center of a table that looked as wobbly and unsteady as she felt. Someone had made an effort to tidy and spruce up the place, but not for one moment did she believe it was her ill-humored husband.
She turned an obsolete and squeaky knob on the sink and copper-colored water spewed forth with a mean hiss. The faucet rattled and belched globs of rust-colored droplets in all directions. They splattered the front of her shirt and hit the key-hole loop with deadly precision like a spray of bullets. Ice-cold water slid between her breasts. She blinked in astonishment and jumped back from the angry faucet and tugged her wet blouse away from her skin. Great! Peachy. What a jerk!
Running water! How nice.
She eyed the globs of rust stains on her blouse.
Ass. I married an ass.
Was she was supposed to be grateful for such luxury?
Surely Jace felt damn pleased. This was a calculated move on his part.Why? Because she’d told him she didn’t want to be married to him? Didn’t want his baby? Had she really inflicted so much pain on him he sought revenge in this petty manner? Kaycee sighed. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She’d wanted to protect him from Smitt. Maybe now that Smitt was out of the picture she could tell Jace the truth.
She’d have to think about it.
Though her temper was on edge, she refused to give him the satisfaction. Carefully hiding her expression and reining in the need to punch his lights outs, she turned off the faucet and stepped back. She plastered a smile on her face as the sink sucked back a last dying breath.
Slowly, she turned to her brother, dreading to see the deep depression return he’d suffered for months after the accident. To her surprise, Taylor was calmly surveying his surroundings. His lips twitched, and she heard him snicker.
At last, he swung the wheelchair in her direction, his gaze meeting hers. Eyes, an intense, electric blue, burned with the dancing light of amusement, and the urge to do battle.
“Well, what do you know,” he bellowed, slapping the arms of the wheelchair. “A home of our own and just what we were looking for.” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “A joyous moment in our lives.”
Her lips parted with shock before a smile of relief settled on her mouth. At one time, Taylor had been strong and quick to defend himself and others, particularly his ‘little’ sister. It was good to see a shadow of the man returning.
Maybe he was frightened of losing all her time to Jace, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to question his support. She’d mull this new development over later. It might be a good thing for Taylor if he believed he was in competition with Jace for her attention.
Kaycee flung her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek in an effort to thank him for supporting her in this hour of need and shook her head. “So, you love the place?”
Jac
e wasn’t getting the better of either of them. No one was beating them down.
Taylor grasped her hand, gave it an encouraging squeeze and grinned. “What’s not to like?”
She felt like breaking down and bawling. My God, she’d uprooted their lives to come here.
To this?
And Taylor was taking it all in stride.
“Is the rest of the house as nice as this?” Taylor asked coolly, flipping around to face Jace.
He glanced back over his shoulder at her as if seeking her approval. She gave him a tentative smile.
“I really think you should have taken the job offer from the rancher in Texas, sis. He wanted you to train his horses as I recall.”
Her eyes widened. She almost blurted, ‘What job offer?’ before she realized what her brother was doing. She lifted her head and smiled sweetly at Jace. “Perhaps it’s not too late.”
Taylor squeezed her hand. She eyed the fire blazing in her brother’s eyes and felt like shouting with happiness. If nothing else, all this had served to bring new life to his previously listless eyes. Yeah, someone to battle with might be exactly what Taylor needed, a male to compete with. He’d had no one but her around for over a year.
“I’m just going to look around a bit.” She left the kitchen and moved down the narrow hall, stopped at the first bedroom doorway and thought she’d vomit. She coughed to conceal her groan and instant dislike of the sparsely furnished room.
The double-sized bed with its nauseating puke-green bedspread was ugly enough to make anyone ill. The bureau, which might have been beautiful once upon a time, now displayed its wounds like an aging veteran. Years of use, telltale scratches, peeling varnish, and drooping drawers, told its own sorry tale of battles lost.
The mirror was covered in big, dark blotches where the mercury used to be. It reminded her of a heavy dose of mildew. Oh, joy. Every time she looked in the mirror she’d look as if she had a black, splotchy complexion.
