Kiss of an Angel (6 page)

His tone was cold and harsh and didn’t welcome further scrutiny of his ex-wife. Casting a glance at the chiseled lines of his profile, she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the deep furrow of his brow. Both belied his attempt to remain unconcerned about the topic. “Don’t you ever get ... lonely? I mean, not having a wife and all?”

“No. I have Laura.”

His pace picked up, forcing Caitlan to quicken hers to stay by his side. “That’s not what I meant.”

“The only thing I miss is a warm body to share my nights with.
Sex
, Caitlan.” His jaw hardened and he shot her a scathing look. “Other than that, I don’t have any use for a wife. And my personal life is really none of your business.”

She glanced away. He was right, of course. Meddling in his affairs wasn’t on her heavenly agenda, yet she found it odd he didn’t want the intimacy and love that flowed between a man and a woman. Such emotion seemed to be the ultimate aspiration of most mortals.

An arctic gust kicked up, slicing through the warm sunshine to maliciously steal the warmth from their bodies. She shivered and watched J.T. flip the collar of his jacket around his neck to ward off the brisk breeze. Shoulders hunched, he tucked his hands into the lined pockets. The wind tugged at his hair, tousling the thick strands around his bent head. He seemed so much the loner, suddenly distant and remote, yet the glimpses of sincerity she’d seen told her he was a compassionate man who deserved the love of a good woman.

“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to share his life with someone,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

He heard her and met her gaze. “The person I wanted to share my life with died, Caitlan. I’ve never wanted anyone but her.” The desolation in his eyes made his words that much more profound.

Instinctively, Caitlan knew the woman he spoke of was his eternal soulmate. But didn’t J.T. realize he could find another to love while waiting for the woman of his heart? He only needed to allow himself the emotion to live out his years happily. “You could still be happy with someone else—”

Slicing a hand through the air, he cut her off, slanting her a look of disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one or those females who believes in fairy tales and happily-ever-after.”

“Well, yes, I believe everyone has a soulmate, and what’s more—”

He interrupted her again. “I hate to be the one to burst the bubble you’ve been living in, little girl, but Cinderella and Prince Charming only exist in books. And ‘soulmates’ went out with the seventies.”

His subtle insult made her bristle. “I’m hardly a little girl.”

Stride slowing to a leisurely pace, he slid his gaze over her, lazily, thoroughly, making her feel as though he’d physically caressed the length of her with his hands. Heat suffused her body, making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other without wondering if her legs would hold out or turn to mush. She felt as if she was melting, which was ridiculous, considering the windchill factor. By the time he finished his inspection and had the good manners to lift his gaze from the vicinity of her breasts, she knew she was in big trouble.

“Pardon me, Ms. Daniels,” he replied in a silky drawl that stroked over her senses and tickled her belly. “You’re absolutely right. I take that back. You’re very much a woman. Built quite nicely, I might add.” A wicked, unrepentant grin curved his lips. “However, your philosophy on love is right along the mentality of my daughter’s. She thinks everything is hearts and flowers. She’s just discovering boys, so I can understand her romantic notions.”

What could she say to top that? Nothing, so she didn’t try. Once her mission with J.T. was over, she was going to discuss his single status with her Superiors. Surely there was
someone
for him.

They walked into a channel between two grassy knolls. The sun struggled to break through the canopy of trees surrounding them and failed. A shiver chased down her spine. “It’s getting cold. Where are we?”

“We’re still on Rafferty land. I’m taking a short cut to the main ranch road.” He rubbed his forehead, frowning. “Just keep walking. It’ll keep you warm and your blood pumping.”

“Don’t you want to stop and rest?” He looked tired, and she wouldn’t be surprised if his head was throbbing. “Maybe have a drink of water and some beef jerky?”

He briefly glanced at the knapsack. “No. I want to get back to the house as soon as possible.”

“Your head—”

“Is fine. I’ll let you know if I need a break.”

How am I suppose to take care of him and protect him when he won’t let me?
“Fine,” she replied, deciding to play the game by his rules. “Just don’t pass out on me, because I refuse to drag you back to the shack.”

He chuckled softly, and Caitlan decided she loved the deep, rumbly sound. “I promise,” he said.

The path they followed narrowed, the grass tapering to dirt and rocks. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her hand, enveloping her fingers in his. “Be careful.  It’s a little rough through here.”

Caitlan stumbled over a cluster of small rocks, unsure if her balance had been knocked off kilter by the terrain or by the man whose hand held hers with such gentleness and care. As she careened toward him, his other hand shot out to steady her, landing on the swell of her hip. Shocked to the tips of her toes by the current of heat spreading where his fingers pressed into her flesh, she dropped the knapsack. The bag fell to the ground at her feet with a muted
thump
. Catching her breath, she stared into his eyes, watching as the orbs darkened in slow, tempered degrees.

The unusual connection she’d felt to this man earlier stirred within her, a bond so deep it shook her to the core of her being. A warm ripple of excitement teased her body.
What is happening to me?
she wondered.
Why do I feel this way?

“Hey, you okay?”

Snapped from her daze by his concern, she pushed the disturbing thoughts aside for another time. “Umm, yes. I should have paid more attention to where I was going.” Then, ensnared by his gaze, she said the silliest thing. “Your eyes remind me of fresh moss dusted with gold.”

“Like the moss that grows on the rocks in the stream?” His palm slowly slid from her hip to the indentation of her waist beneath the jacket she wore.

She managed a nod, her throat too dry to speak.

“How flattering.” His voice was low and husky and full of a playful charm Caitlan suspected he didn’t use very often. He stared at her as if seeing someone else, and the hard edge of his jaw softened. “And your eyes remind me of ...” He caught what he’d been about to say and gave his head a slight shake, as if dislodging the thoughts in his mind.

Sorrow flickered in his eyes and, strangely, Caitlan felt his sadness as if it were her own. She didn’t understand its source, and as she reached out to touch his face and offer what comfort she could, he saw her intent. Abruptly, he let her go and stepped away. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she tried to sort through the upheaval of rampant emotions in her. But how did she begin to understand something so powerful and foreign in her experience as a guardian angel?

J.T. bent down and picked up the knapsack, still unable to believe he’d almost told Caitlan her eyes reminded him of lush violets. How incredibly stupid and sappy. Damn. He’d wanted her to touch him in the worst way, but he knew if she did, he’d go up in smoke and take her with him.

Scowling at everything in general, he grasped her hand in a businesslike manner and practically dragged her behind him. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he muttered, forging a path up over the final crest of the ravine. A couple of times her boots slid from under her, but he had a firm enough grip on her to keep her on her feet. Once they were on flat land he let go of her hand.

Another pasture stretched out ahead, and beyond that was the main ranch road. A sweet, clean breeze curled around them.

 “Oh, J.T.,” Caitlan breathed, gesturing to the group of elk grazing near the tree line. “This is so beautiful.”

Seeing the wild beauty of his land through someone else’s eyes gave J.T. a new appreciation for it. “I guess I see them so often, I take everything for granted.”

“I could watch them for hours,” she said in a soft voice. The animals maintained a guarded wariness and wouldn’t need much provocation to bolt.

“We don’t have hours,” he reminded her, and started forward. Several of the elk backed away.  Others sprinted into the grove of trees lining the far side of the pasture. When she caught up to him he said, “You never did say where you were from or what you do.”

Caitlan looked surprised at the switch in conversation. “Chicago. I’m an illustrator for a children’s magazine.”

“You’re a long way froth home, city girl.”

“Yes.” One of those secret smiles brushed her lips. “But I get a hankering for the country and horses every once in a while.”

And she’d no doubt get bored after a week or two, he thought, knowing from experience that city women didn’t adapt well to life in the country. “Did you grow up in the country and around horses?”

“My uncle owned a ranch in Montana and I spent my summers there.”

“So what brings you to such a rural place as an Idaho dude ranch?”

She shrugged and scuffed her boots over the grass. “A vacation. I just wanted to get away for a while.”

“Are you staying at Parson’s by yourself, or is there someone waiting and worrying about you?” And why did he even care? His only concern should be getting her safely back to Parson’s, regardless of who might be waiting for her there.

She shook her head, and the sun painted golden highlights in her hair. “No, I came by myself.”

“Well, you can call Parson’s as soon as we get back to the main house and let them know you’re okay.”

She gave him her dimpled grin, and this time J.T. only felt a minimal shock at seeing it. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing. “Someone’s coming.”

J.T. glanced up. Sure enough, three figures appeared on the horizon.  Two men on horses and a horse with no rider. J.T. whistled loud and shrill, garnering their attention. The riders spurred the horses into a gallop. Minutes later, J.T. recognized his ranch foreman, Frank, and his brother-in-law Kirk. J.T.’s faithful chestnut, Quinn, tagged behind on a lead rope.

Kirk reined to a stop a few feet away, a sly grin on his handsome face. “Sorry, boss,” he said, thumbing back his Stetson on his head, his light blue eyes appraising Caitlan. “We didn’t consider you might not want to be found, or realize you’d have company with you.”

Frank, chuckling at his partner’s comment, halted his horse and Quinn beside Kirk. He grinned good-naturedly, adding more wrinkles to his well-weathered face. “And here we were, worrying you’d got stranded out in the open and froze to death last night,” he said, his voice a raspy drawl.

J.T. watched a blush rise on Caitlan’s cheeks from the men’s innuendos. A rush of protectiveness gripped him. Assuring himself that the feeling was nothing more than paternal instinct kicking in, he pinned both men with a shrewd look. “Can it, guys. This is Caitlan Daniels and, quite frankly, she saved my life.”

Frank and Kirk exchanged incredulous glances.

“Say again?” Kirk asked. “I could have sworn you said she saved your life.”

Quinn stepped forward, seeking his owner’s familiar hand. J.T. obliged the horse, stroking his palm down the side of Quinn’s neck. “You heard me correctly,” J.T. said, irritated for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. “I had an accident in the west pasture.” He met Caitlan’s gaze, telling her without words to go along with his story and not to dare refute him. “A tree was blocking the creek. After I pulled it out and untied the rope I slipped and fell and must’ve hit my head on a rock. I was out cold, and when I woke up I was in the line shack.”

Frank leaned into his saddle, eyeing Caitlan curiously. “And where does this pretty lady fit into all this?”

J.T. summarized the story Caitlan had relayed to him, about her being a guest at Parson’s Dude Ranch and stumbling upon his body by accident. By his men’s dubious expressions, J.T. knew they were having a little trouble digesting the tale, just as he had. Yet he asked himself again, what other explanation could there be?

“By the way, Caitlan,” J.T. began, nodding to Frank, “this ancient cowpoke is my foreman Frank, and Kirk here is my sister’s husband and one of my best hands.”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied, looking from one man to the other.

“Same here, Ms. Daniels,” Frank said politely.

Kirk tipped his Stetson at her, a broad smile on his lips. “Any friend of J.T.’s is a friend of ours. Welcome to the Circle R.”

J.T. tied the knapsack on the saddle, annoyed with the way both men,
married
men at that, were so totally captivated by Caitlan’s smile. “So, what the hell took you so long to find me?”

Kirk spared him a glance. “Randal said you’d been working on the north side of the ranch and insisted we search for you there. When nothing turned up Frank and I decided to give this end a try.”

“I was working on the north side of the ranch in the morning, until I found the blockage in the creek and followed it west.”

“Well, no matter,” Frank cut in. “At least we found you. Quinn made it back to the corral late last night and was acting spooked.”

“Probably from the storm,” J.T. said, even though he knew it would take more than a little thunder and rain to terrify Quinn. The horse had never deserted him before in bad weather.