Lethal Attraction: Against the Rules\Fatal Affair (15 page)

Silently she counted, then said, “In a week or so.”

“And if you are? What will you do?”

Cathryn swallowed, facing the inevitable. She really had no option. She wasn’t a woman who could force illegitimacy on a child when the father was more than willing to marry her. A pregnancy would settle everything except her own doubts. She whispered, “I won’t keep it from you if...if I am.”

He took his hat off and ran his hand through his thick dark hair. Jamming the hat back on his head, he said harshly, “I’ve sweated it out before, wondering if I had made you pregnant. I guess I can do it again. At least this time you’re not just a kid yourself.”

She swallowed again, inexplicably moved to learn that he hadn’t been so unaffected by that day so long ago. She started to speak, though she had no idea what she was going to say, but Rule kneed his horse away from her. “I have work to do,” he muttered. “Let me know when you decide what time you’re leaving. I’ll have the plane ready to go.”

She watched as he rode away from her; then she turned her horse’s head and walked it slowly back to the stables. Their talk had accomplished exactly nothing, except to make her aware of the possible consequences of their nights together.

After returning to the house and picking at her breakfast, she called the airline in Houston and made reservations for the following day, then made a stab at packing. She hadn’t much to pack, really. Most of her clothing was still in Chicago. She had been making do with the old clothes that she had left at the ranch.

The hours dragged; she could scarcely wait until lunch, when she would be able to see Rule again, even if she had forbidden herself the joy of having him. She went downstairs and puttered around, helping Lorna put the meal together, looking constantly out the window.

A horse was galloped into the yard and the rider flung himself off. Cathryn could hear muffled shouts and sensed his urgency, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She and Lorna exchanged worried glances and both stepped to the back door. “What is it?” Cathryn called as Lewis’s tall, lean form ran from the stables to the pickup. “What’s wrong?”

He turned, his hard face drawn. “Rule’s horse went down with him,” he called tersely. “He’s hurt.”

The words punched her in the stomach and she reeled backward, then forced herself upright. On shaking legs she ran to the pickup, where a man had placed one of the mattresses from the bunkhouse in the bed of the truck, and she clambered into the cab beside Lewis. He shot a look at her utterly white face and said nothing, instead slamming the gearshift through its pattern as he raced the truck across the pastures. It seemed that they spent an eternity bouncing in the dust before they reached a small knot of men grouped anxiously around the prone figure on the ground.

Cathryn was out of the truck before it had stopped, sliding to her knees beside him and kicking a fine spray of dust over him. A sickening panic seized her as she saw his closed eyes and pale face. “Rule!” she cried, touching his cheek and not getting a response.

Lewis knelt beside her as her shaking fingers tore at the buttons of Rule’s shirt. It wasn’t until she slid her hand inside and felt the reassuring thud of his heartbeat that she let out the breath she had been holding and raised frantic eyes to Lewis. Lewis was running his hands over Rule’s body, pausing when he reached a point about halfway between knee and ankle on his left leg. “His leg’s broken,” he muttered.

Rule drew in a shuddering breath and his dark lashes fluttered open. Quickly Cathryn bent over him. “Rule...darling, do you understand me?” she asked, seeing the unfocused look in his eyes.

“Yes,” he muttered. “Redman?”

She swiveled her head around to look at the horse. He was standing on all four legs and she couldn’t see any serious swelling. “I think he’s okay. He’s definitely in better shape than you are. Your left leg is broken.”

“I know. I felt it snap.” He gave her a weak smile. “I took quite a knock on the head, too.”

Once again Cathryn raised her worried eyes to meet Lewis’s. A knock on the head meant a possible concussion, and coupling that knowledge with the length of time Rule had been unconscious, the possibility became a probability. Despite his rational answers, the quicker he was taken to a hospital, the better. There was also the horrifying thought of neck or back injuries. She would have given anything to be able to take the pain herself if he would be spared, and in that moment she admitted beyond doubt that she loved him. It wasn’t just desire that she felt for him; she loved him. Why else would she have been so upset that he might have made love to someone else? Why else be so jealous of his kisses? Why else feel so hopeful that he had made her pregnant? She had loved him for a long time, long before she had been mature enough to recognize it for what it was.

The men were moving quickly, efficiently, and she was gently crowded away from Rule. They lifted him gently onto a blanket that had been spread on the ground beside him. She heard a stifled cry of pain and bit down hard on her lower lip, bringing tiny dots of blood to the surface. Lewis said, “You must be getting clumsy, boss, falling off a horse like that,” which brought a tight grin to Rule’s face. The grin faded abruptly when he was lifted, the blanket serving as a stretcher. From between clenched teeth he spat words that Cathryn had heard separately, but never together and with such inventiveness as Rule was using. Sweat was beaded on his face by the time he was placed on the mattress in the back of the truck. Cathryn and Lewis climbed in back with him and Cathryn automatically wiped his face.

“Take it easy on the ride back,” Lewis instructed the man who was doing the driving now, and the man nodded his understanding.

Even when taken at a slow pace, every bump in the ground made Rule’s hands clench into fists, and his face took on a grayish tinge. He brought his hands up and clenched them around his head as if he could buffer it from the swaying of the pickup. Cathryn hovered over him anxiously, suffering for him with every lurch of the truck, but there was nothing she could do.

Lewis met her eyes across Rule’s prone form. “San Antone is closer than Houston,” he said quietly. “We’ll take him there.”

When they reached the ranch two seats were quickly removed from the plane and Rule was placed, mattress and all, in the vacated space. His eyelids were drooping and Cathryn cupped his face in her hands. “Darling, you can’t go to sleep,” she said softly. “Open your eyes and look at me. You can’t go to sleep.”

Obediently he looked at her, his eyes dazed as he concentrated on what she said with heart-wrenching intensity. A half smile touched his pale lips. “Look at me,” he whispered, and she remembered his lovemaking. Was he remembering, too?

“I’ll be all right,” he assured her drowsily. “It’s not that bad. I had a lot worse than this in Nam.”

The doctor at the hospital in San Antonio agreed. Though Rule did have a concussion and would be kept under observation at least overnight, his condition was in no way severe enough to indicate a need for surgery. Except for the lump on his head and his broken leg, they could find no other injuries but various bruises. After the strain of crouching beside him during the flight and trying to keep him awake, finding out that he would be all right had the same effect on Cathryn that bad news would have had: she turned her head into Lewis’s chest and burst into tears.

Instantly his arms went around her and he hugged her tightly. “Why cry now?” he sputtered with relieved laughter.

“Because I can’t help it,” she sniffled.

The doctor laughed and patted her shoulder. “Cry all you want,” he said kindly. “He’ll be fine, I promise. You can take him home in a day or so, and the headache from that concussion should keep him in bed long enough for that leg to get a good start on healing.”

“May we see him now?” asked Cathryn, wiping her eyes. She wanted to see him for herself, to touch him and let him know that she and Lewis were still close by.

“Not yet. We’ve taken him downstairs to have his leg X-rayed and set. I’ll let you know when we have him settled in a room.”

She and Lewis waited in the visitors’ lounge with cups of bitter coffee obtained from the vending machine in the corner. She was grateful for the presence of the man, stranger though he was. He had never once acted upset or out of control, though he had moved swiftly. If he had revealed any fear, Cathryn knew that she would have fallen apart.

Lewis sprawled back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his long, booted legs outstretched and reminding her of Rule. Her stomach rumbled and she said, “Rule must be starving. He didn’t have any breakfast this morning.”

“No, he won’t be hungry until after his system is over the shock,” said Lewis. “But we’re another matter. Let’s find the cafeteria. We could both use a meal and a decent cup of coffee.”

“But Rule—”

“Won’t be going anywhere,” insisted Lewis, taking her hand and urging her out of the chair. “We’ll be back long before they’re finished with him, anyway. I’ve had my share of broken bones, just like he has; I know how long it will take.”

His prediction was correct. Though they lingered in the cafeteria it was almost an hour after they returned to the waiting room that a nurse approached them and gave them the welcome information that Rule was now in a room. They went to the proper floor and met the doctor in the corridor.

“It was a clean break. He’ll be as good as new,” he assured them. “I’m certain we don’t have anything to worry about. He’s too ill-tempered to be injured very badly.” He looked at Lewis and shook his head in awe. “He’s the toughest son of a—” With a quick glance at Cathryn he cut himself off short. “He refused any sort of anesthetic, even a local. Said he didn’t like them.”

“No,” said Lewis blandly. “He doesn’t.”

Cathryn moved impatiently and the doctor smiled at her. “Do you want to see him now?” he asked in amusement.

“Yes, of course,” said Cathryn quickly. She needed to get to Rule, to touch him and satisfy herself that he was really all right.

She wasn’t certain what to expect. She was braced for bruises and bandages—something she didn’t know if she could bear when Rule was the patient concerned. What she found when they opened the door was tousled dark hair, a face that managed to be both sleepy and annoyed, and a leg encased in a pristine cast that was supported by a sling rigged from a contraption stationed at the foot of the bed.

They had put him in a regulation hospital gown, but that state of affairs hadn’t lasted long. The garment was in a tangled heap on the floor, and she knew that beneath the thin sheet there was only Rule. Despite herself, she began to laugh.

He began to turn his head with the utmost care, and behind her, Cathryn heard Lewis’s stifled chuckle. Rule gave up trying to turn his head and instead only moved his eyes, which still caused him to wince noticeably. “Well, don’t just stand there gloating,” he growled at Cathryn. “Come hold my hand. I could use some sympathy.”

Obediently she crossed to his bedside, and though she was still laughing she felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes. She took his hand in hers and lifted it to her lips for a quick kiss on the lean, powerful fingers. “You scared me half to death,” she accused him, her voice both teasing and tearful. “And now you don’t even look hurt, except for your leg. You just look grouchy!”

“It hasn’t been a picnic,” he told her feelingly. His hand tightened on hers, and he drew her even closer to the bed; but his glance shifted to Lewis. “Lew, how badly is Redman hurt?”

“Nothing serious,” Lewis assured him. “He was walking okay. I’ll keep an eye on him, watch for swelling.”

Rule forgot himself and nodded, a lapse that he paid for immediately. He groaned aloud and put his hand on his head. “Damn,” he swore weakly. “I’ve got a hell of a headache. Didn’t they leave an ice pack or something?”

Cathryn looked around and found the ice pack on the floor where it had evidently been flung along with the hospital gown. She picked it up and placed it on his forehead. He sighed with relief, then returned to Lewis.

“Go on back to the ranch,” he instructed the foreman. “There’s too much to be done before the sale for both of us to be gone, even for a day. The dun mare should come in tomorrow or the next day. Put her with Irish Gale.”

Lewis listened attentively as Rule outlined what had to be done during the next two days. He asked a few brief questions; then he was gone before Cathryn could quite comprehend that she had been left behind. Rule hadn’t released his grip on her hand in all that time. Now he turned his sleepy attention to her.

“You don’t mind staying with me, do you?”

It hadn’t occurred to her to leave, but asking her permission after she had already been stranded made her give him a wry look. “Would it have mattered if I did?”

His dark eyes grew even darker; then his jaw hardened. “No,” he said flatly. “I need you here.” He shifted on the bed and muttered a curse when his head throbbed. “This changes things. You can’t leave the ranch now, Cat. With the sale coming up I need your help. There’s too much for Lewis to handle on his own, and when it comes down to basics, it’s your responsibility because it’s your ranch. Besides, if you’ll ever be safe from me, that time is now. I couldn’t fight a kitten, let alone a full-grown Cat.”

She couldn’t even smile at his pun. He looked so unnaturally helpless that she wished she had never said anything. All thoughts of leaving the ranch had disappeared from her mind the minute she’d heard that Rule was hurt, but she didn’t tell him that. She merely smoothed a damp strand of dark hair back from his forehead and said quietly, “Of course I’ll stay. Did you really think I’d leave now?”

“I didn’t know,” he muttered. “I couldn’t stop you if you wanted to go, but I hoped the ranch meant more to you than that.”

It wasn’t the ranch that held her, it was Rule; but his accident hadn’t deprived her of her common sense, and she didn’t tell him that, either. Instead she plucked the sheet a little higher on his torso and teased, “I have to stay, if only to protect your modesty.”

He gave her a roguish look despite the pallor of his face and the not-quite-focused expression in his eyes. “You’re too late to save my modesty. But if you’d like to protect my virtue, I could use some help in fighting off these fresh nurses.”