Country Brides (29 page)

“I didn't know I had a habit of not being sensible,” she said conversationally, disheartened by his attitude. She rose and walked over to the larger bookcase, but even standing on her toes, she couldn't quite reach the trophies stored on the top shelf. Not to be defeated, she rolled the ottoman in front of the empty bookcase and climbed onto the thick cushioned seat. She stretched up and her fingers were about to grasp the first trophy when she heard Luke's swift intake of breath.

“Kate!”

Just as he spoke the ottoman started to roll out from under her. She flailed her arms in a desperate effort to maintain her balance.

Kate had never seen Luke move faster. His hands closed around her waist in an iron grip. Her cry of alarm caught in her throat as she was slammed against his solid chest.

“Of all the stupid, idiotic things I've ever seen—”

“I would've been perfectly fine if you hadn't called my name.” Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

Luke's hold relaxed. “You 're all right?”

She nodded.

He closed his eyes, exhaling a ragged sigh. When he opened them, he assessed her carefully; apparently he concluded that she was unhurt because he gave her an impatient little shake. “Whatever possessed you to climb up on that ottoman in the first place?” he demanded.

“I couldn't reach the trophies.”

“Couldn't you have asked me to get them for you? Why do you have such a difficult time accepting help from me?”

“I don't know,” she admitted softly.

Still he held her and still Kate let him, trying to resist the comfort she felt in his arms. Her hands were braced against his powerful shoulders, but then she relaxed, unconsciously linking her fingers behind his neck.

Neither moved for a long moment.

Slowly Luke ran a provocative finger down the length of her cheek, and Kate's eyes drifted shut. She felt herself drawn inexorably toward him. Her lips parted and trembled, awaiting his kiss. When she realized what she was doing, she opened her eyes and broke away from him so quickly that she would've stumbled had his hands not righted her.

Embarrassed now, she stepped back. Luke brought down the trophies and handed them to her, but she saw that his eyes had become distant and unreadable.

“That's enough packing for tonight,” she murmured, her voice breathless even while she struggled to sound cheerful and bright.

He nodded slightly, then without another word stalked from the room. Kate didn't know what possessed her to follow him, certainly the last thing she should have done.

“Luke?”

He stopped halfway through the kitchen and turned toward her. His eyes were steely and intense, and just seeing that harsh edge drove her to take a step backward in retreat.

“You wanted something?” he asked when she didn't immediately explain.

“Just to say…” She could barely talk coherently. It occurred to her to ask if he loved her the way a man loves his wife, but she lacked the courage. “I thought maybe, I mean, I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you before I left the house. Paint the living room…or something?”

“No.”

Briefly she toyed with the idea of following him outside. For all his words about wanting her to stay, he couldn't seem to get away from her fast enough. The thought of not having Luke for her friend anymore felt crippling. Her pride was the problem. Luke had told her repeatedly that she needed him, and she knew now that she did. But not in the way he meant. Not just as a friend who was willing to offer her the protection and peace of marriage, a friend who felt obliged to take care of her.

“I don't want you to move from the ranch,” he said.

Her heart was begging him to give her a reason to stay—the reason she longed to hear. “Luke, please accept that I'm only doing what I think is best for my life.”

“I know that, but dammit, Kate, why are you being so stubborn? Why do you resist me when all I want is to make things easier for you? We could be married, and you could settle down in the house, and nothing needs to change. Yet you insist on causing all this turmoil in your life.”

There wasn't anything Kate could say.

“You can't tell me we aren't physically attracted to each other. The electricity between us is powerful enough to light up Main Street.”

“I…know.”

“Say it, Kate. Admit that it felt good when I held you just now.”

“I…”

Luke reached for her then, and Kate felt as if she'd lost some strategic battle. When his mouth found hers, her stomach tightened and fluttered wildly. Against her will, her lips parted, and before she understood what was happening she slid her arms tightly around his hard, narrow waist, wanting to hold on to him forever.

Luke moaned, then suddenly tore his lips from hers. She felt a tremor go through him before he raised his head and gazed tenderly into her face, his eyes dark and gentle.

“Is it so difficult to say?” he asked.

“T
his is the second bedroom,” Mrs. Jackson was saying as she led Kate through the vacant rooms. From the moment she'd walked in the door, Kate had known that this apartment would suit her needs perfectly.

“I can't understand why you'd be wanting a two-bedroom place, but that's none of my business,” Mrs. Jackson went on. Her hair was tightly curled in pink plastic rollers. To the best of her ability, Kate couldn't remember ever seeing the woman's hair
without
rollers.

“What did that Rivers fellow say when you told him you were moving into town?” She didn't wait for a response, but cackled delightedly. “Frankly, I wasn't sure you'd show up this morning. My friend Ethel and me talked about it, and we figured Rivers would tie a rope around you and hightail it to Nevada and marry you quick. Offhand, I can't remember who's got money on November.”

“You said to be here before noon,” she murmured, ignoring the other comments.

“Well, if Luke didn't stop you, I expected that snowstorm would, the one the weatherman's been talking about for the last two days.”

“Do you really think it's going to snow?” Kate asked anxiously. The sky had been dark all morning, and the temperature seemed to be dropping steadily. Normally Kate wouldn't have chanced driving into town by herself with weather conditions this uncertain, but if she hadn't come, she might have missed getting the apartment.

“If I was you, I'd stick around town for a while,” Mrs. Jackson advised. “I'd hate the thought of you getting trapped on the road in a bad storm.”

“I'm sure I'll be all right.” She'd driven her father's four-wheel-drive truck, and even if the storm did materialize, she shouldn't have any trouble getting home. The Circle L was only twenty minutes away, and how much snow could fall in that time?

“Would you like me to write you a check now?” Kate asked, eager to be on her way.

“That'd be fine. There's still some cleaning to be done, but it'll be finished before the first of the month. Fact is, you can start moving your things in here next week if you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Mrs. Jackson bundled her coat around her thin shoulders as they stepped outside. She glanced at the sky and shook her pink-curlered head. “If you are going home, I suggest you do it quick. I don't like the look of them clouds.”

“Then I'd better write that check and head out.”

No more than five minutes later, Kate was sitting in her father's truck. The sky was an oyster gray and darkening by the minute. Shivering from the cold, she zipped her jacket all the way up to her neck and drew on a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves.

Kate started the engine and shifted the gears. The radio was set on her dad's favorite country station and the music played softly. When she left the outskirts of town, she hit a couple of rough patches in the road and bounced so high her head nearly banged into the roof of the cab. After that she kept her speed down. She drove at a steady pace, her gaze focused on the road ahead, scanning the horizon for any sign of snow.

When she was about ten miles from the ranch, the storm began. Light, fluffy flakes whirled around the windshield. The morning sky darkened until it resembled dusk and Kate was forced to turn on the headlights.

A love song came on the radio, one the band at the Red Bull had played that fateful Friday night. The night Luke had lifted her in his arms and carried her off the dance floor. Embarrassed by the memory, she reached for the radio dial, intending to change the station.

She didn't see the rock that had rolled onto the road, not until she was almost on top of it, and then it was too late. Her instincts took control. She gripped the wheel with both hands, then swerved and slammed into the embankment. The truck stopped with a sudden jerk, and the engine went dead.

For a stunned moment, Kate couldn't breathe. Her heart was in her throat and her hands clenched the steering wheel so tightly her fingers felt numb.

Finally, when she was able to move, Kate released a long, shaky breath, grateful the accident hadn't been worse. She took a moment to compose herself and tried to restart the engine, but nothing happened. Twice more she tried to get the engine to kick over, but it wouldn't even cough or sputter.

Frustrated, she smacked the cushioned seat with her gloved hand and closed her eyes. The snow was coming down thick and fast now.

“Don't worry,” she muttered, opening the door and climbing out. “Stay calm.” Although everything Kate knew about the internal workings of engines would fit on a Post-It note, she decided to see if she could find the problem.

The snow and wind struck at her viciously, as though to punish her for not listening to Mrs. Jackson and staying in town.

After considerable difficulty locating the latch, Kate raised the hood. With a prayer on her lips, she looked everything over, then touched two or three different parts as if that would repair whatever was broken. Certain that she was destined to sit out the storm huddled in the cab, she returned and tried the key again.

The engine gave one sick cough and promptly died.

“Damn!”

Nothing remained but to sit and wait for someone to drive past. Leaving the truck and attempting to make her way to the house would be nearly as insane as driving around in a snowstorm in the first place.

Kate could almost hear Luke's lecture now. It would be hot enough to blister her ears. All she could do was hope her father never found out about this—or she'd get a lecture from him, too.

A half hour passed and, hoping against hope, Kate tried the engine again. Nothing. But it was snowing so hard now that even if the truck had started, she probably wouldn't have been able to drive in these conditions. She tried to warm herself by rubbing her hands and hugging her arms close to her body. It had become cold, the coldest weather she could remember.

With very little to take her mind off the freezing temperature, she laid her head back and closed her eyes, trying to relax. There was nothing to do but sit patiently and wait….

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, the truck door was jerked open and her arm gripped in a sudden, painful hold.

“Have you lost your mind?” The fury in Luke's voice was like a slap in the face.

“Luke…Luke.” She was so grateful to see him that she didn't question where he'd come from or how he'd found her. It all felt like a dream. Moving was difficult, but she slid her arms around his neck and hugged him, laughing and crying at the same time. “How did you ever find me?”

“Don't you realize I was about to have heart failure worrying about you?”

“You're sick?” Her mind was so muddled. Of course he'd be worried. How had he known where she was? And he seemed so angry, but that was nothing new. For the past few days, he'd been continually upset with her.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she breathed in his fresh, warm scent. When she sat up and looked around, she was shocked by how dark it had become; if it weren't for the blowing, swirling snow, the stars would be twinkling. The storm had abated somewhat, but not by much.

“I can't believe you'd do anything so stupid.” His voice was low and angry, his face blanched with concern. “Don't you know you could've frozen to death out here? If you don't want to consider your own life, then what about Devin away on his honeymoon? If anything happened to you, he'd never forgive himself.”

Kate bore up well under Luke's tirade, refusing to cry even though she was trembling with shock and cold and the truth of his words. As for the part about being frozen, she was already halfway there, but he didn't seem to notice that.

“Kate, I don't know what I would've done if you'd left the truck and tried to make it back to the house on foot.”

“I knew enough to stay here at least.” She'd been a fool not to have taken the danger more seriously. “I 'm sorry,” she whispered.

He pulled her to him and held her so tight she couldn't move. His face was buried in her hair, one ungloved hand gently stroking her forehead, her cheek, her chin, as if he had to touch her to know he'd found her safe. When he lifted his head, he gazed into her eyes, his own dark and filled with unspoken torment. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and tried to talk, but her teeth began to chatter. Luke shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I swerved to miss a rock and hit…the embankment. It was already snowing and I…the song…I changed stations and that's when it happened…I don't know what I did, but after I turned so sharply, the truck wouldn't start.”

“I've got to get you to the house.” He half carried her to his truck and placed her in the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver's side and leaned over to wrap a warm blanket around her, then began to rub some warmth back into her hands.

“What about Dad's truck?” Kate asked, shocked by how tired and weak she felt.

“We'll worry about that later. I'll send someone to fix it when the storm's over.”

The blast from the heater felt like a tropical wind and Kate finally started to relax. She was terribly cold but dared not let Luke know.

All the way back to the ranch he didn't say a word. Driving was difficult, and she didn't want to disturb his concentration. So she sat beside him, her hands and feet numb despite the almost oppressive warmth, and her eyes heavy with weariness.

Several of the ranch hands ran toward the front porch when Luke pulled into the yard. Kate found the flurry of activity all centered on her disconcerting, but she tried to thank everyone and apologized profusely for the concern she'd caused.

If Luke had been impatient and demanding when he rescued her, it didn't compare to the way he rapped out orders once she was inside the house.

“A bath,” he said, pointing toward the bathroom as if she'd never been there before. “Warm water, not hot.”

Bill Schmidt, Luke's newly appointed foreman, followed them to the doorway of the tiny room, looking pale and anxious. Kate felt so weak that she simply stood, leaning against the sink, while Luke ran the bathwater, testing it several times to check the temperature.

“It's stopped snowing. Do you think I should contact one of her female friends? Maybe Miz Franklin?” Bill asked, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. When Luke nodded, Bill charged out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Luke turned off the bathwater and straightened. He shook his head, arms limp and at his sides, mouth stern and tight. “Kate, Kate, what could have possessed you to drive in from town during the worst storm of the year? Can you imagine what went through my mind when I was looking for you?”

It took all her strength just to manage a few words. “How'd…you know…where I was?”

“You told me you were going to town to look at an apartment on Saturday. Remember? When you weren't back after the blizzard hit, I called around town until I learned you were renting one of the apartments on Spruce Street. Mrs. Jackson told me she'd warned you herself and that you'd left a few hours earlier. Also that she's fond of April because of all the flowers, whatever the hell that means.”

“I'm…sorry I worried you.”

His hands gripped her shoulders and the anguish he'd endured during the past few hours was written plainly on his face. The anger and pain in his eyes told her about the panic he'd felt. A rush of emotion crossed his expression and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.

He didn't speak for a long moment. Instead, quietly, gently, he stroked her hair as he dragged in several deep breaths.

Kate's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She longed to look at him, to gaze into his eyes again. She was puzzled by the intensity she'd seen there. Fear, yes, doubt and anger, too, but there was something more, something deeper that she didn't recognize.

She longed to tell him she loved him, just the way he claimed she did, but the thought didn't make it to her lips. Love was a strange, unpredictable emotion, so painful and difficult. Her eyes held his and she tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate.

Her fingertips mapped out the lines of his face, as she strove to reassure him with her touch when her words couldn't. He captured her wrist and brought her palm to his lips.

She'd just opened her mouth to speak, when Bill Schmidt came crashing into the room. “Rorie Franklin will be over as soon as she can.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Luke said without looking away from Kate.

“Uh, I'll be leaving now, if you don't need me.”

“Fine. Thanks again for your help.”

“No problem. Glad you're all right, Kate.” He touched his hat and then was gone.

“Someone should help you out of those clothes,” Luke said, half smiling, “and I don't think I should be the one to do it.”

“I'm fine. I can undress myself.”

Luke didn't seem inclined to challenge her statement. She floated toward the bathroom door and ushered him out, then shut it softly.