Keegan's Lady (45 page)

"She wouldn't," Esa replied with a shrug. "She just kept swinging the poker and saying, 'Sick, sick, sick to death!'"

"For Christ's sake!" In his anger, Ace wrenched on the damper handle with all his strength. The lever gave unexpectedly under the onslaught, throwing him completely off balance. As he regained his footing, he said, "You outweigh the girl by eighty pounds, Esa!" He threw the pliers onto the stove top, metal clanking loudly against metal. "I can't believe you just politely asked her to stop and didn't do anything! Why didn't you take the poker away from her, for Christ's sake?"

"You're repeating yourself," Joseph observed drily from where he worked at the sink. "Why is it when you get pissed, all you can think of to say is 'for Christ's sake'? or 'Jesus Christ'?"

"Shut up, Joseph. Right now is not the time for your smart-ass comments." Ace returned his gaze to Esa. "I asked you a question. I'd like an answer. Why didn't you stop her?"

Esa coughed and wiped his mouth with a sleeve. "Well, Ace, the truth is, I was kind of afraid she might— well, you know—hit me."

"Afraid she might hit you?" Ace couldn't believe his ears. "That girl doesn't have a mean bone in her whole body." He raised an eyebrow at Joseph's back. "And while she was smearing stew all over God's creation, Joseph? What were you and David doing?"

Joseph glanced over his shoulder. "Esa has it pretty much right. We just stood and watched. What else could we do, short of physically trying to stop her? Thanks, but no thanks. I've tangled with Eden a few times when she was in a temper. I learned the hard way, it's better to stay out the way."

David snorted. "You got that right. A man doesn't stand a chance."

Ace ran a hand over his hair again and cast another disbelieving glance at the destruction. Caitlin—sweet, timid little Caitlin—had done all this? "How on earth did she manage to flood the house this bad? Couldn't you have at least turned off the water spigot?"

David shrugged. "We were so busy trying to fix the stove and get rid of the smoke, we didn't notice the water until she came back from the bedroom carrying Lucky. By then, the hallway already looked like a damned river at flood stage."

Esa grabbed a towel from the wall rack to wipe his hands. "On the way out, she asked me if I still thought she was a keeper. Can you believe it?" He rubbed the rectangle of soot-streaked linen over his face. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear she did all this just to piss us off."

Ace felt as if a fist had closed around his throat. He planted his hands on his hips and closed his eyes. Then, in a strangled voice, he said, "Jesus Christ!" Only this time, he was no longer certain if he was cursing or praying.

A keeper. A person or thing that had value. Someone or something others wanted. Caitlin wasn't sure either definition applied to her.

***

Ace looked for Caitlin near the house first. When his initial search turned up no sign of her, he widened his circle, each sweep taking him farther and farther from the yard and outbuildings. He couldn't help but grow concerned. Colorado was harsh, wild country. There were all manner of beasts running at large, especially at night, some of them predatory.

Do you still think I'm a keeper? Her parting shot at Esa went through Ace's mind a dozen times as he combed the area for her. Caitlin. She was like an intricate puzzle, and every time he thought he finally had her figured out, he realized a couple of pieces were missing.

She'd told Joseph she was sick to death of them all. Ace suspected just the opposite was true, that she was coming to care for them very much and was terrified of being hurt. After all, who in Caitlin's life hadn't hurt her? In her mind, if she allowed herself to trust again, she would be making herself vulnerable. That had to be pretty damned frightening.

Ace finally found her sitting on a log next to the creek. He approached quietly from her right, affording himself an opportunity to study her upturned face. Clutching Lucky protectively to her chest, she gazed at the moon and star-studded sky as though she were searching for answers to a multitude of questions. She was clearly troubled, and he had a hunch her concerns were all about him.

Ace wondered how she was going to react when she saw him. He didn't want to frighten her any more than she probably already was. He decided that casual congeniality would be the best approach. "Hi, there."

She gave such a start she nearly fell off the log. "Ace!"

Leaping to her feet, she bent to release the cat, giving him a pat on his rump to shoo him away. God forbid that Lucky should be caught in the middle and get hurt. Such were her expectations, that Ace would fly at her in a rage, just as her father had always done. It was written ail over her face. In her pallor. In her huge, frightened eyes, which looked like molten silver in the moonlight.

Ace yearned to scold her for having come out here alone, but under the circumstances, he didn't think that would be a very smart move. There would be time enough later to discuss his concerns for her safety.

"I was starting to get a little worried," he admitted. "Of course, it took me longer to find you than it I probably should have. Up near the house, I kept retracing my steps, thinking maybe I'd missed you in all the smoke."

She hugged her waist, her body rigid. "So you have been to the house?"

Ace nearly chuckled at the look on her face. He was clearly not reacting in the anticipated manner. "Oh, yes. I've been there. You made one hell of a mess, you know."

She stared at him for an interminably long moment. Then, keeping only one arm around her waist, she began to toy nervously with the buttons on her bodice, her gaze watchful and wary. "Aren't you—" She moistened her tremulous lips. "Aren't you angry?"

Ace placed his hands on his hips, not missing the fact that she flinched when he moved. "A little. Like I said, you made a hell of a mess. If they don't get that water up fairly fast, the floors will have to be sanded and revarnished. That'll be a lot of unnecessary work."

"I'm sure your brothers are all furious," she said in a quavery little voice.

"They are that. Right about now, they'd probably like to send you back to Patrick by pony express."

She became unaccountably interested in a small rock, nudging it around with the toe of her shoe. "And you? Are you wanting to send me back to Patrick as well?"

Ace regarded the top of her bent head. "It's not going to be that simple, Caitlin."

That brought her head up. She fixed him with a wary gaze "Pardon?"

"You heard me. That's why you did all this, isn't it? To make me so mad, I'd either send you packing or lose my temper. Since we've already been over the first possibility and I've made it clear I won't give you an annulment, I have a feeling you were counting on me to do the latter. After all, if I act like a total ass, you'll be able to hate me. Right?"

"I—I don't know what you mean."

He searched her gaze. "Oh, I think you do." He waited a beat to lend that emphasis. "Caring about people is dangerous business, isn't it?"

A muscle under her eye started to twitch. She returned his regard with a stony expression that revealed nothing, wich told him more than she could possibly know, namely that he'd hit the mark dead on.

Ace sighed and leaned his head back. The vastness of the star-studded sky above them was soothing. They truly were all actors on a stage, each of them playing a role, each with a special purpose. His was to make this girl happy, and God help him, he didn't know how.

He lowered his gaze back to her pale face. "The long and the short of it is, your rash behavior tonight has accomplished nothing. I'm not going to lose my temper so you can hate me, and I'm not going to send you home in Patrick. You're stuck with me."

She wrapped both arms around her waist again, looking so fragile and shaken that he wanted to gather her Into his arms. "It won't work, you know," she said loftly.

"What won't?"

"This elaborate scheme of yours. I won't love you. No matter what you do. No matter how convincing you are." She hugged herself more tightly. "Go a thousand nights without touching me! Let Lucky sit smack dab in the center of your supper table to eat. Buy me an ocean full of chocolate, new clothes to fill every closet in the house, and enough yardage to make wall-to-wall rugs! I don't care. It won't work! I'll never love you, not in a I million years!"

Her lips were saying one thing, her eyes something else entirely. His heart broke for her. "Caitlin, what is it you're so afraid of? Do you even know? Have you ever sat down and taken your fears out in the light of day to examine them?" He hesitated a moment, searching her frightened gaze. "Do you know what I think? I think you're so confused, you don't know which way's up. How can I help you deal with any of this if you won't be honest with me?"

"I don't want to be dealt with," she retorted shakily, "I just want out."

"Out of the marriage, you mean?" He gave a low laugh. "Is that how you've dealt with problems, by running from them?"

"I'm not running. I've stayed and honored my commitments."

"Have you? Pardon me for mentioning it, but we've yet to make love, which is one of your duties as a wife. You're running, Caitlin. Maybe not in a physical sense, but emotionally, you've been making tracks ever since I put a ring on your finger. Do you call what we have a marriage? Think again."

"I'm not ready for intimacy. I may never be."

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to face whatever it is that's making you so afraid. Problems don't solve themselves. You can't just pretend they don't exist and hope they'll go away." He fell silent, struggling for calm. When he could modulate his voice again, he said, "I'd like to help you, if you'll let me." He held out a hand to her. "Come on. Let's sit down and talk. We'll take one issue at a time. Together, Caitlin. There's nothing we can't whip if we tackle it together."

She fastened tortured eyes on his. "Don't you understand?" she cried in a thin, tremulous voice. "You are my greatest fear. You! How can you possibly help me face that? It's all or nothing with you. You already have control over my life. Why can't that be enough? But, oh, no, you have to have my heart and soul as well!"

"Damn straight."

"You see?" She flashed him an accusing look. "You want parts of me I'm unable to give!"

"Unable, or unwilling?" He thrust his hand out to her again. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's sit down and discuss it. You'll be surprised how much it helps to talk things out."

Instead of taking his hand, she cupped a shaking palm over her eyes. "Do you think my mind is like Joseph's vegetable garden, with everything in neat little rows? Mow can I separate things when they're all jumbled together and—" Her voice broke and she hauled in a ragged breath. "You make it sound so simple, but it isn't! Why can't you just let me go, Ace? Please. Before it's too late!"

"It's already too late. I'm in love with you."

She dropped her hand and fixed imploring eyes on his. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's true. I love you, Caitlin. With all my heart. You want to torch the barn next? Maybe level the house? It'll all be for nothing, because when it's over, I'll still be standing here, saying the same thing. I love you, and nothing is going to change that."

"I'm Conor O'Shannessy's daughter. Have you forgotten that? On down the road, you'll rue the day you ever met me!"

"That's crazy."

"Is it?" she demanded shrilly. "Try bad blood on for lire, Mr. Keegan! If you keep me in this marriage and have things your way, I'll give you children one day! And those children will be Conor O'Shannessy's grandchildren. Your sons may be redheads. They may look just like him. Even worse, they could be like him. Bad seed, and how are you going to feel about me then? My father was an evil, vile man!"

"Evilness doesn't run in families. People choose to be evil. They aren't born that way."

"What do you know about evilness?"

Ace wasn't sure, but he thought she'd just paid him high compliment. "I know that most behavior, good or bad, is learned."

She swung a hand in an all-encompassing gesture "Look at Patrick. Sober, he's the nicest person I've ever known. After a few drinks, he's crazier than a loco horse. Just like my father was!"

"Exactly. Young men tend to pattern themselves after their fathers. Point in fact, when have you ever known; Patrick to have only a few drinks? I'll wager the first time he touched a bottle, he drank the whole damned thing. That's all he knows, drinking until he's corned. His father drank that way, so he does. His father behaved badly when he drank, so he does. There's not a damned thing wrong with your brother that a good, swift kick in the ass wouldn't cure. Bad blood, Caitlin? If you believed that, you wouldn't love him like you do."

"I love him in spite of it. Faults and all. Not because I think he's perfect!"

Ace saw that opening and leaped at it. "I love you the same way," he said huskily. "Faults and all, Caitlin. Why can't you trust in that?"

"Because you don't know all there is to know about me."

"Then, for Christ's sake, enlighten me."

"Maybe I should!" She said that as if she were issuing a threat. "Would you treat me like something special then, I wonder?"