"I might ask you the same thing."
Even if she couldn't see his face, she imagined the look of disapproval etched there. She suddenly remembered that she was wearing her nightgown and gathered the shawl tighter about her. He took a step toward her, and all she could focus on was the gun in his holster. She thought about calling for help, but Sam would be no match for this man.
"The Spanish Spur belongs to my family, and you are trespassing." Her legs were trembling with fear, and she didn't think she had ever been so frightened. If only she had thought to bring the rifle-if only she had taken the time to dress- she wouldn't feel quite so vulnerable and at such a disadvantage.
Casey felt his gaze on her, as if he were weighing her words. "How can you say the ranch belongs to you when I know Bob Reynolds would never sell the Spanish Spur?"
Although she was afraid of him and she wanted to run away, she stood her ground. "Bob Reynolds was my uncle. I would have told you before if you hadn't been so rude."
He stepped into the moonlight, and she tried to pull away when he clamped her chin and raised her face to his. Refusing to allow him to intimidate her, she met his gaze defiantly. In that moment, she saw a look of puzzlement in his eyes, and his touch was gentle as he brushed his hand through her hair.
"It seems the females in your family have a tendency to wander into danger," he remarked.
He dropped his hand to his side, and in that moment Casey knew instinctively that he would not harm her.
The young beauty stood before Gabe, the moonlight washing her pale skin with an ethereal light. She touched something deep inside him, and he wanted nothing more than to stand between her and any trouble that might come her way. How could he have mistakenly thought she was homely when she had the kind of beauty that pulled at a man's insides, made him want to touch her skin to see if it was as soft as it appeared?
Suddenly he stiffened; he had forgotten she had a husband. "I see you washed the mud from your face," he said, trying to distance himself from her.
"I... had fallen in the river."
His gaze strayed across her soft mouth, and he mentally shook himself. "You have a lot to think about, ma'am." He didn't trust himself to be near her, so he moved farther away. "I'll be seeing you.
She took a guarded breath as he moved past her and disappeared into the night. With hurried steps, she ran toward the wagon and climbed inside. Her heart was pounding so fast she could hardly breathe.
She lay back beside jenny and took the child's hand in hers, hoping she could find comfort in her sister's nearness.
Something deep and meaningful had happened to her when the stranger had touched her.
But what?
He had stirred feelings inside her that she had never felt before. It was as if he had opened a door and all her emotions had come rushing out. She didn't even know his name or anything about him. She was confused and troubled, and hoped never to see him again, and yet, if she didn't, something very precious would be lost.
Kate laid her book on the wobbly table beside her chair and rubbed her tired eyes. Her sight - was getting worse-so much so that she had to struggle to read a line, much less a page. And she did so love to read.
She was becoming a nocturnal creature because she had so much trouble sleeping. She had always been able to get by on four or five hours of sleep a night. Lately, though, since Bob had died, she would feel lucky if she got half that amount. He'd been the only person she had ever truly respected, and in her way, she had loved him. She would always be beholden to him because he had saved her from living a very different life from the one he had provided for her.
She was lucky it had been he who came into the Yellow Dog Saloon that night twenty years ago. Kate had never known her pa, and her ma had died when she was twelve. She had found work at the saloon, scrubbing and cleaning rooms for a place to sleep behind the stairs. And that was how she had lived until one night when Patty, one of the saloon girls, had run away with a buffalo hunter. Kate had certainly never been a beauty. But it hadn't mattered, because the owner had been short one girl, and it had been payday for the wranglers of the nearby ranches. He had ordered her to change into Patty's costume and to be nice to the men, or he'd throw her out on the street.
Bob Reynolds had been the first to buy her a drink and to take her to the room upstairs. Bob, who had seen her tears and listened to the story of her life-Bob, who had taken her away with him that very night. They had not made love then or anytime since. He had made her a vow that he would never lay a hand on her, that he would see she was always safe. He had kept his promise and built her this house.
There had been lovers-mostly some of the cowhands who worked at the ranch. Bob had had his women, but the two of them had never been together that way. Their feelings went much deeper than lust-they were the very best of friends. They had been sympathetic to each other in troubled times, and they had laughed together in happy times. And now he was gone, and she was left behind to mourn him.
She had never felt she had given Bob as much as he had given her, but now she would repay him by looking after his kin. He had talked about his only sister's children a lot. Although he had never seen them, they had corresponded with him regularly.
When the soft rap came on the door, she expected it to be one of the Hamiltons. She was surprised when she found out who her visitor was.
"Well, as I live and breathe, can it really be you, Gabriel? Come on in and set yourself down."
"I wouldn't have disturbed you this late, Kate, but I saw your light."
She gave him a wide grin and patted his shoulder, drawing him into the house and closing the door behind him. He had removed his hat, but he was still so tall that he'd had to duck under the door frame.
Gabe knew that Bob Reynolds had built this house especially for Kate, and since she was so petite, everything seemed to be in miniature. It was like an oversize dollhouse. He, like many other people, had speculated about Kate's relationship with the old man, but no one really knew for sure.
"I never mind being disturbed by a handsome man. Make yourself to home. Do you want some coffee--or maybe you'd like something stronger? I don't have any of the good stuff, but I have a jug that'll knock your boots off."
Gabe shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I need to know about the people who claim to own the Spanish Spur. What happened to Bob?"
"He up and died of the lung sickness-he went fast, and I wasn't expecting it. The people you're asking 'bout are the Hamiltons."
"Are they related to Bob Reynolds?"
"Yeah, they are. None of them are much more'n young'uns. They can't make it out here with Cyrus wanting to get his hands on the place-you know it, and I know it-but there ain't nobody gonna make that pretty little gal believe it."
She watched his silver eyes flash in the flickering lamplight. If anyone wanted to get Gabe riled, all that was necessary was to mention Cyrus.
"They can't go up against him and live to tell about it, Kate. And no one from around here is going to help them. Everyone's too afraid of Cyrus.
"He ain't gonna be happy 'bout them being here-and when he ain't happy, people die."
"I know."
Gabe stood up slowly and stretched his tall frame. Kate was nearing her sixtieth birthday, but the sight of that gorgeous man made her eyes widen.
"It's none of my affair. The woman's husband should take them back where they came from."
"Husband? There ain't no husband. There's just Casey and her brother, Sam, and the little one, jenny."
"Then what in the hell are they doing here?" He started pacing. "Cyrus won't care that they're young, or even that two of them are female; he'll only care that they are standing in the way of something he wants."
Kate shook her head. "I wouldn't want to see anything happen to them. Hell, if Cyrus could just wait a month or so, they'd probably be happy to sell the Spanish Spur to him. They came here all the way from Virginia, burying their pa along the way. Now, you know and I know
"-she glanced up at him expectantly-"they can't last out here without help."
"Then the woman is a widow?"
"She never had no husband. What makes you think such a thing?"
He had assumed the little girl was her daughter. "Then the child-"
"Is her sister."
Gabe settled into a cane-bottom chair and stared at the lamp, which was running out of oil and needed the wick trimmed.
"You've been away since the war; I didn't even know you were back till now."
"I had planned to leave for El Paso tomorrow, and I didn't expect to see anyone I knew. I left Texas in 'sixty-three, swearing I would never come back. After the war I bummed around, and I don't know why I ended up back here. I certainly didn't intend to."
"Have you seen Cyrus?"
"No. Why should I? We have nothing to say to each other. We never have."
He leaned his head back and took in a deep breath before looking at Kate. "I thought I could ride through and no one would be the wiser. Now I've become embroiled in the Hamiltons' troubles. It kind of muddies the water, so to speak."
Kate's laughter cackled out. "You're going to stay and help 'em, ain't you?"
"I don't have any choice. Cyrus already has the blood of too many innocents on his hands. I can't let him have these three to add to his tally."
"I didn't think you could."
He was quiet for a moment. "Kate, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention my last name to the Hamiltons."
"I can see how you'd feel that way. Things should start getting interesting 'round here in a few days. You and Cyrus was bound to butt heads sooner or later. I knew the day would come when you'd return and fight him. I guess you chose the Spanish Spur as your battleground."
He made no reply, but she saw a muscle clench in his jaw, and his hands slid into fists.
"Yeah, it's definitely going to get mighty interesting 'round here, Gabriel."
At the moment, all Gabe could think about was the beautiful young woman, so courageous and strong, thinking she didn't have a friend in the world. He couldn't just ride away and leave her at Cyrus's mercy.
Casey still could not sleep. She sighed, remembering that her father had once told her that troubles always seemed darker at night, but brightened in the light of day. She doubted that the problems that faced her family would look any better at sunrise.
It was still dark when she dressed and climbed out of the wagon, taking care not to disturb Sam and Jenny. She reasoned that if she couldn't sleep, she might as well get busy cleaning the house. She lit a lantern and made her way to the well; tossing the wooden bucket over the side, she heard it splash below. Hand over hand, she tugged the rope upward, then cupped her hands and drew water up to her mouth.
Cautiously, she took a sip, then smiled. There was nothing to worry about; it tasted as sweet as springwater.
Half an hour later Casey had gathered a cleaning bucket, lye soap, and a brush, and went down on her knees to clean the kitchen floor. Soap suds swirled out about her as her scrub brush dug into the wooden floor, washing away two years of neglect. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her shoulder, she dipped her scrub brush back into the water and sloshed it across the floor. Her heart stopped when she watched water splash across the toe of a black boot. Her gaze followed the line up the long leg to the face of the man she had expected never to see again.
"Didn't you see that the floor is wet?" she asked, blowing a tangled red-gold curl out of her face. She dabbed at the toe of his boot with a wet cloth, but her action only made the suds worse.
He took a step away from her. "Is it your habit to scrub floors before the sun comes up?"
She bristled. "Is it your habit to go skulking about whenever and wherever it pleases you?"
She watched his mouth turn up into a grin. "Skulking about-is that what I'm doing?"
"That is what it seems like to me. You were here last night and now first thing this morning." She glared at him and asked suspiciously, "Just why are you here again?"
Ignoring her question, he knelt down and stared at her for a moment. "I might have known you would be a redhead," he remarked, and for some reason he did not understand, he wanted to brush the unruly red-gold curls off her cheek. "You certainly have a temper to match the color. And," he said with irony in his tone, "for some reason, you always seem to be having some kind of mishap with water."
He was too close to her, and she couldn't breathe as she looked into those silver eyes. She had intended to get to her feet so she could put some distance between them, but her hand slipped on the wet floor and, to her horror and dismay, her face landed in the bucket of water. She sputtered and tried to wipe the soap out of her stinging eyes.
Casey felt strong hands grip hers, and the man lifted her to her feet. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to steady herself, trying to hang on to as much dignity as she could with water - streaming down her face.
She felt his muscles flex beneath her fingers. This was not a man to be trifled with, and she feared the way he looked at her. What was the look; what did it mean?
She managed to move away from him so she could dab at her eyes with her apron. It didn't help much, though; her eyes still stung. "You never did answer me-why did you return?"
"I took the liberty of sleeping in your barn last night, so I never actually left."
Casey stopped dabbing at her eyes and stared at him. "You stayed here last night?"
"I hope you don't mind."
She was struck by his audacity. Why would he have done such a thing? She certainly would not have slept at all if she had known he was so nearby.
"You should have asked me if I minded before you did it."
He leaned against the door frame and watched her just as the rooster crowed, announcing sunup. "Do you mind?"
"I... do not feel comfortable with strangers."
He held up his hand and laughed. "I know. You don't like strangers skulking about. And you're right-I should have asked you." He watched her face carefully. "I'm sorry. You see, I had nowhere else to sleep."
She dabbed at her hair with her apron. "Look, whoever you are, I have troubles of my own, and I don't need to take on any more."
"I was wondering if you had any work for me." He gestured outside and shrugged his broad shoulders. "It looks to me like you could use some help."
By now her eyes had stopped burning a bit, and it was light enough for her to get a good look at him. He wasn't wearing his gun this morning, but he still looked dangerous to her. His eyes, which had appeared to be a flat slate color a moment ago, seemed now to swirl with silver light. He filled the doorway with his size, and she assessed his features. He had the kind of handsomeness that would draw her attention even if he were in a room with other men. His dark brows arched above those glorious eyes; his nose was in harmony with his other features. His mouth was what drew and held her attention. What would it feel like to have it pressed against hers? She went weak all over at that thought, and scolded herself for even entertaining such fantasies.
"I doubt that you know anything about ranching," he said, breaking into her thoughts. "I could teach your brother some things he needs to know, and I do need the work."
He needed a shave, and his hair was too long, but judging by the rich material of his trousers and the fine blue shirt he wore, he didn't look like he needed money.
"You don't seem to be down on your luck to me," she quickly pointed out.
He gave her that devastatingly masculine smile that tightened her insides. "You never can tell; maybe I'm just a supporter of lost causes."
"We aren't lost, mister. You are the one who seems to be wandering around aimlessly."
"I would make you a good hand," he said, as if she had not spoken. "I work hard and don't eat much."
She didn't want him around, and yet she could not stand the thought of never seeing him again.
Where had that thought come from? "I don't know anything about you," she stated firmly.
"Kate k
nows me. She'll vouch for my honesty."
Casey was torn. She didn't want to admit to him that she didn't have the money to pay him; it would be too humiliating. So she chose another method to turn him away. "I have been warned that there is a powerful neighbor to the south of us who is likely to cause trouble. I'm afraid that anyone I hire would be considered his enemy. I can't do that to you."
His eyes turned glacier cold, and he stared at her so hard, she took a step back. She managed to say without hesitation, "I don't want to be responsible for you if trouble comes."
"I know who you are talking about." There was a sharp edge to his voice, a coldness, and she imagined it was the tone he might use before he drew his gun on someone. "I'm not afraid of.Cyrus Slaughter."
"From what Kate tells me, you should be." She stared down at the hem of her soaked gown, unable to look at him any longer. "I think it would be better if you rode on."
When she glanced back up, he was watching her. "I really do need the work."
She took a steadying breath and dived in. "The truth is, I can't pay you wages. We don't have much money and-"
"I'll work for a bed and grub. Later we can talk about wages."
"I don't know. It doesn't seem-"
"I'd like a place to settle for a while. You'd be doing me a favor."
She didn't believe him. He had a motive for wanting to work for her, but she didn't know what it could be. "I don't even know your name."
"I am called Gabe, Miss Hamilton."
She wiped her wet hands on her apron. "I suppose you have a last name."
"Just Gabe."
Casey didn't completely trust him. But it was true that she and Sam just didn't know how to run a ranch the size of this one.
"We could use the help," she admitted. "As you said, you could show Sam a few things, since the ranch will one day belong to him."
Gabe digested that bit of information and nod ded. "It's settled then. If it's all right with you, I'll start rounding up what cattle you still have."
"I will want my brother to learn how to work on this ranch. Do you want Sam to go with you?"
Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) Page 4
