Katelyn needed other things to wear besides that fancy blue dress she had on. He could offer her some buckskin britches. Smiling at the thought, he wondered what kind of reaction he would get if he suggested it to her.
Any britches of his that might fit her would have to be from when he was younger than fourteen years old. After that, he’d grown out of his gangly boy’s body. He doubted his mother held on to things for ten years. Old clothes usually found other uses. Kyle remembered the way his hands spanned Kate’s entire small waist. That thought brought with it other memories of earlier in the day, along with thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking. He mentally shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? His mind hadn’t been clear since he met her.
Impatiently, he shoved more fabric aside, and had nearly reached the bottom of the trunk. Finally. He pulled a cotton dress from underneath layers of other material, and held it up. It was a pale yellow color with green and blue floral patterns, and he vaguely remembered one of his sisters wearing it at some point.
Kyle dug into the trunk once more, pulling out a few more dresses of various styles and colors, and found some white cotton material he assumed to be the same type of undergarment Kate wore. He clenched his jaw and groaned silently at that memory. The thin fabric hadn’t left much to the imagination, especially not when his hands had been all over her.
He grabbed the pile of clothes and threw them over his shoulder, then slammed the trunk shut, and pushed it back against the wall. Without a backwards glance, he closed the door to the room, and left the house. With long strides, he quickly covered the distance to his cabin.
Kyle had left her standing in his grandparents’ room. Her sympathetic hand on his arm had nearly undone any semblance of self-control he still possessed in her presence. He’d glanced at the photo on the dresser once more before leaving the room, and could have sworn he saw a look of satisfaction and approval on his grandparents’ faces. Don’t be ridiculous, Kyle.
He opened the door to his cabin slowly. The hinges squeaked slightly. One glance around the room told him she wasn’t there. Had she gone outside? The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, so he headed in that direction. He pushed the door further open. The sensation of warm water flowing over him from head to toe hit him.
Katelyn lay curled up on her side in the center of his grandparents’ bed, sound asleep. She had her arms wrapped around a thick fur, holding it to her chest like a child would hold a stuffed animal, and her hair spilled over her shoulder and back. Her knees were drawn up nearly to her torso.
Kyle stood and stared, wondering at her pose. In his mind, he crawled onto the bed next to her, and wrapped her in his arms, shielding her from whatever it was that had brought on such a need for self-protection. Her guardian came to mind again. He couldn’t think of any other person who could have possibly done her harm. What else had she endured in his care? He tore his eyes away from her, and slowly laid the bundle of clothing at the foot of the bed. She’d see them when she woke. He backed quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him.
For a moment, he just stood there, pushing his hair out of his eyes, inhaling deeply, and staring at nothing in particular in the main room. What was he going to do with her? She couldn’t stay here indefinitely. For one thing, it wasn’t proper. He’d get an earful from Josh, he could hear it already. Deeply engrained in Shoshone custom, Josh would lecture him on the etiquette of sharing a home with a woman he wasn’t wed to.
Then there were his obligations to consider. He had to deliver three ponies to an outfitter in Virginia City in three weeks. After that, he was due in Helena. He’d been hired on by a railroad owner to take him through the region. He had expressed an interest in the land and it’s natural wonders. Kyle hoped it would generate public interest if the railroad got involved to set this land aside for preservation. It was something he’d discussed a year ago with Mr. Nathaniel Langford and Henry Washburn, after bringing them through here. He remembered sitting with them at their camp across the Madison along the Firehole River, when the idea of a national park was brought up. After witnessing for themselves the wonders and beauty of this area that Kyle had shown them, these men felt it would be important to preserve this area for the enjoyment of all people, not for private exploitation. Kyle had wholeheartedly agreed.
Katelyn couldn’t remain here. He would be away for a month at least, perhaps longer. The best thing to do would be to bring her to Virginia City, and have her stay with his parents. From there, she could contact family in Boston, and return home if she chose.
He strode to the wood box, and knelt at the hearth. Stacking up some kindling, he struck a flint against his hunting knife, creating sparks that caught on the dry tinder. Blowing air onto it, Kyle quickly had a fire going, feeding larger pieces of wood to the hungry flames. He pulled the heavy cast-iron kettle over the fire, then headed to the river with a wooden bucket. Kate hadn’t had a decent meal in days. He could prepare a stew, and bake some biscuits for when she woke.
Evening turned to night, and Katelyn was still asleep. Experiencing a restlessness he’d never felt before, Kyle paced the cabin, checking on her constantly. The venison stew he’d made sat cold in the kettle. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb her. She apparently needed the rest, and he found himself standing in a dark corner of the room, simply watching her sleep. Occasionally, she would stir, and she’d murmur incoherent words, then hug herself more tightly than before.
Kyle had just left the room, intent on eating some cold stew, when she cried out. He wheeled around as his heart skipped a beat.
“No, please…don’t.”
The panic in her voice tore at his heart. He sat at the edge of the bed, and lightly touched her arm. “Katelyn?” he whispered. “It’s okay. It’s only a dream.” He didn’t know what else to say, or how to comfort her.
Suddenly, she bolted upright, and shrank away from him, then scrambled to the other side of the bed, the fur she’d been holding clutched tightly to her chest. The cold fear in her eyes, illuminated only by the faint light seeping in from the other room left him momentarily speechless.
“Katelyn . . . sweetheart, it’s me,” he said softly. He didn’t move, knowing it would cause her to bolt. It was best to let a skittish filly come to him, rather than chase it down.
“Kyle?” she asked softly, a quiver in her voice.
“I’m right here,” he answered, reaching out a hand. Her ice-cold fingers wrapped around his hand, and she gripped with a strength he didn’t think she possessed. “Would you like me to light a lamp?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” came her soft response. She didn’t release her hold on him.
“Kate,” he chuckled softly, “you’re going to have to let go.” Her fingers loosened, and he pulled his hand back, then turned to the small table by the bed, lighting the lamp. His gaze fell back on her. She still sat with her legs drawn up under herself, clutching the fur as if it would protect her from something.
“Bad dream?” he asked slowly. The skin between her eyes furrowed, then she simply nodded, and averted her eyes.
Intent on lightening the mood, Kyle slapped his hand on his knee and stood, then smiled at her. “Well, since you’re finally awake, would you like something to eat? I’ll reheat supper.”
Her stomach answered for her, and he laughed. “I take that as a yes,” he said. Pointing to the other room, he added, “I’ll be out there. Come whenever you’re ready.”
He headed for the main room, and pulled the kettle back over the fire, adding some more wood to the dying flames. Her behavior disturbed him. The girl from last night, the one who didn’t hesitate to reach into a stranger’s britches when asked, was not the same girl in the other room. Perhaps the prospect of escaping from the Crow would have prompted her to do almost anything, he decided. Reaching for a couple of plates and forks, he set them on the table. When he looked up, she was standing under the doorframe, her eyes large and round.
“Supper’s almost hot,” he
said. “Come and sit down.” The look in her eyes reminded him of the wonderment on a child’s face when they didn’t understand something. “I’ve been told my cooking’s not half bad, so you needn’t be afraid to try it.” He grinned.
She stepped into the room, and pulled out a chair before Kyle could maneuver around the table and do it for her. “I wasn’t worried about your cooking,” she said quietly.
“What then?” he asked, and turned to the hearth, pulling the lid off the Dutch oven in the fire. Using a fork, he stabbed into the biscuits to lift them out. He dropped them onto an extra plate, and returned with it to the table.
“I’m just not accustomed to a man doing the cooking and serving,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“Well, if you’d like to take over the chore from now on, that’ll be fine with me,” he smiled broadly. “I said my cooking wasn’t bad, I didn’t say I enjoyed doing it. But a man’s gotta eat.”
Katelyn dropped her gaze. “I . . . I don’t know how,” she said in a demure voice.
Kyle, you should have known. She’s probably never had to lift a finger her entire life. She’s probably had servants to do everything for her.
“But I’d gladly learn,” she added suddenly, her head popping back up. “If you’ll teach me.” The hopeful look in her eyes chiseled away at his heart.
“Sure. We’ll start tomorrow.”
She smiled brightly at him, and he grabbed hold of the edge of the table. The urge to pull her into his arms overwhelmed him.
“Those clothes . . . they belong to your sisters?” she asked tentatively, giving him the diversion he desperately needed at the moment. He cleared his throat, and reached for her plate. He turned back to the hearth, and ladled out some stew, which he set in front of her before answering.
“Yes. I found them in an old trunk. I figured you could use something else to wear. I know they’re not as fine as what you’re used to, but . . .” he let his words trail off. Katelyn’s large eyes watched his every move.
“Thank you,” she said simply. Kyle nodded, and brought his own plate of stew to the table. Sitting across from her, he reached for a biscuit, and motioned for her to do the same.”
They ate in silence, Katelyn commenting once that she liked the food. When they’d nearly finished, she sat up straighter suddenly, and asked, “Would it be much trouble to ask for a bath in the morning? I’ve gone nearly a week without.”
Kyle paused his fork in midair. “No trouble at all,” he said. “The river’s pretty warm actually.”
“River?”
He grinned. “I don’t have a bathtub, if that’s what you wanted,” he said. Her round eyes and half-open mouth told him that was exactly what she’d meant. His grin widened. “We always bathe in the river here, Katelyn. And don’t worry. There’s no one here to watch. I promise to stay away.”
She cleared her throat, and hastily swallowed a piece of biscuit. “Oh . . . well, okay. The river will be fine.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed. Why the hell did she have to be so damn agreeable? It was as if she was afraid he would get angry if she said something he might not want to hear. He could tell she didn’t relish the thought of bathing in a river, but she complied without another word. Come to think of it, she’d been acting that way since he’d met her. With the small exception when he told her to unbutton her dress and when he’d cut her out of that corset thing, she’d put up no argument to anything he’d asked her to do. Even then, she’d submitted. He didn’t know of any female who didn’t like to argue and have things her own way. Mentally, he shook his head.
“Thank you for supper,” she said, washing down the last of her meal with a cup full of water. She left the table, carrying her dishes to the workbench. “I don’t know where to put these.” She turned a questioning eye on him.
“Leave them, I’ll clean them in the morning. It’s getting late.” He rose from his seat, and brought his own plate to the workbench.
“I . . . I think I’ll go back to bed,” she stammered.
“I’m right over there in the other room, if you need anything,” Kyle replied. She whirled around and headed for her room.
“Kate,” he called. Her back visibly stiffened before she turned slowly to face him. Her eyes had gone large again. “Good night,” he said. Her shoulders dropped, and she expelled a deep breath.
“Good night, Kyle,” she whispered, then turned on her heels once again, and disappeared inside the bedroom, the door closing softly behind her.
Kyle ran his hands through his hair, and rested both elbows on the workbench, his hands clutching his temples. The next few weeks would surely test him like nothing ever had. This girl was wreaking havoc with his mind and body, and today had only been the first day. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. Where the hell was Josh? His cousin’s presence would surely keep his wayward thoughts in check.
Chapter 7
Kate woke to a delicious smell permeating the room. Her stomach responded with a loud rumble. A warm feeling doused her from the inside out, and she smiled softly into the downy pillow she’d rested her head on all night. For the first time in six months, she was eager to meet the new day. She stretched her arms lazily in the air, then pushed the fur covers aside. Cold air, in stark contrast to the warmth under the covers, gave her goose bumps, and she contemplated diving back under the blankets.
A quick glance out the window told her the morning was already well underway, and she sat up quickly to avoid the temptation of lingering in the comfortable bed. She threw her legs over the sides of the mattress, and scooted forward until her feet touched the ground. The quick action brought a dull ache to her bruised ribs, but she was pleased to note it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it had the previous day.
Shivering now, sitting there in only her thin chemise, she quickly checked under the bed for a chamber pot, then stood and reached for her dress that she’d draped over the bedframe the night before. Her eyes fell on the heap of dresses lying at the foot of the bed. A brightly colored yellow dress with a floral pattern caught her attention. She picked it up and held it to her. There was no mirror for her to see what it might look like if she wore the dress, but it appeared to be the right length.
Not giving it another thought, she pulled the garment over her head, and buttoned up the front. It was a bit wide in the waist and bust, but nothing too noticeable. The bodice gathered in a V-shape at the waist, and the scooped neckline sat lower than she would have preferred for a day dress, but it couldn’t be helped. She had no seamstress experience, or needle and thread, to alter the gown.
Kate sat back on the edge of the bed and pulled on her stockings and shoes, lacing them up loosely. She wished she had some simple slippers to give her aching feet some reprieve from her tight shoes. She ran her fingers through her hair, wondering at her appearance. She had never gone this long with her hair falling freely. Her lady’s maid had always made sure to style it in the latest fashion of knots and ringlets before leaving her bedchamber each morning.
What would he think of her now? She’d probably receive a beating for her current appearance. Nothing less than perfection was expected of her, and any imperfection in dress or hairstyle was not tolerated. Going without a tightly laced corset would probably be her death sentence.
Whoever thought up the idea that a woman needs to strap herself into one of these things deserves to be shot. Kyle’s angry words from the day before came back to her now. It brought a smile to her lips. He had also told her to leave her hair down. She shook her head, trying to comprehend such vast opposition in thinking between two men. What would Kyle think of her appearance now, in a dress that belonged to one of his sisters?
Only one way to find out, Kate. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed the front of the dress with sweaty palms, and opened the bedroom door to walk into the main room. Her eyes fell immediately on him. He stood at the workbench, a knife in his hand, cutting something. He glanced up, and their eyes met. A wide smil
e softened his chiseled features, and Kate’s heart skipped a beat. He shook some hair out of his face, and set his knife down, turning fully toward her. His eyes swept over her appreciatively. Her face flushed when his gaze lingered just below her neck.
“Mornin’,” he finally said.
“Good morning,” she replied, and moved further into the room.
“That looks real nice on you,” he said, and pulled out a chair for her to sit at the table. His intense eyes on her left her skin tingling, as if she’d been caressed.
“How about some breakfast, and then you can take that bath you wanted?” He didn’t wait for a reply, and pulled a plate of food off the workbench and set it in front of her. “Coffee?” he asked.
“No . . . no thank you.” Kate didn’t know what to say. She eyed the biscuits and gravy on her plate. “Please, I don’t want to be any more trouble to you. You don’t need to do all this.”
“Well, you have to eat, and so do I,” he said casually, and pulled out a chair across from her. He dug into his own breakfast, smiling up at her between bites. “Besides, it looks like that dress could use some filling out. As long as you don’t lean forward, you should be all right, though.”
Kate’s mouth dropped. He laughed.
“You’re not in stuffy Boston, Katelyn. It’s okay to try a little humor,” he said moments later, a wide grin still on his face. She wasn’t sure whether to take his comment as an insult. He mopped up some gravy with a piece of biscuit, and popped it into his mouth. His face grew serious, and he leaned across the table toward her. She sat up straighter in response.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I wasn’t trying to be rude. Forgive a man for noticing these things about a pretty girl.” His eyes darkened considerably, and Kate felt the heat rise up her neck again.
Yellowstone Awakening (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 3) Page 5
