Maureen McKade (22 page)

Kit watched the slight figures until they disappeared in the shadows of the oaks and aspens, then she returned to the silent house. As she considered how to appeal to Jake, memories of the previous evening intruded, derailing her thoughts. She couldn’t even envision him without her pulse quickening and desire shallowing her
breathing. How could she be in the same room with him without remembering what they’d shared? Without wanting to curl into his embrace and spend another night in his arms?

She had to think of Johnny. She had to think of a life without her son. She had to think of a way to convince Jake to allow Johnny to continue living with her. If she didn’t, she’d have nothing left.

The morning crawled by as Kit scrubbed floors until her hands were red and wrinkly and her back ached. Though the physical activity kept her busy, her idle mind refused to set aside thoughts of Jake. After lunch, she escaped the suffocating confines of the house and continued training the bay gelding she’d begun to work with earlier in the week.

While she put the horse through its paces, she could dismiss from her mind worries about the ranch and Johnny. The familiar leather between her fingers and the warm spring breeze wafting across her face lifted her spirits.

An hour after she’d begun working with the yearling, Kit spotted a rider approaching the ranch. Sunlight slanted off the horse’s spotted coat, giving horse and rider an ethereal glow against the greening backdrop of budding trees. Kit’s stomach fisted, and for a moment all she could do was stare at Jake. Sweat slicked her palms, and her anxiety seemed to telegraph itself to the young bay, who skittered sideways. Kit forced her attention back to the colt and soothed it, unstrapping the lead from its halter. The animal trotted away, shaking its mane.

Kit looped the leather strap around her hand and elbow, watching Jake out of the corner of her eye. He drew his horse up by the corral, dismounted, and loosely wrapped the reins around a pole. He wore his hat with the brim pulled low over his eyes, shading his features,
but Kit could see the anger in the stiff set of his broad shoulders and the flexing of his fingers. The return of the tied-down holster around his hips added to his aura of danger.

With deliberate motions, she strolled across the enclosure and swung the gate open. She stepped over to Jake, stopping a few feet in front of him. Her traitorous gaze noticed his long, muscled legs and thighs encased in snug tan trousers, and the dark blue shirt taut across his chest with his customary brown vest worn over it. A few curling hairs peeked out above the V at the base of his neck, and Kit remembered too clearly how they’d tickled her nose when she’d caressed him.

Passion careened through her like a runaway stage, and she fought the urge to touch him. “Hello, Jake.”

“Where’s my son?”

His terse question plummeted her hopes that he might have forgiven her. She lifted her chin. “He’s not here.”

“Where is he?” His tone snapped with impatience.

“He’s with Pete. Let’s go up to the house and talk.” She turned away, and Jake grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

“I came for my son,” he said flatly.

Panic threatened to overwhelm Kit’s carefully constructed facade. She breathed deeply, pressing the hysteria into a corner of her mind. “We need to talk first.”

Kit parried his smoldering glare, and with a muttered curse, Jake released her. Her heart threatening to strangle her, Kit led the way to the house. Even though she didn’t glance behind her, she felt Jake’s hostile gaze drilling a hole into her back. Once inside, Kit went into the kitchen and poured them each a cup of coffee. She handed Jake a mug, and after a moment’s hesitation, he accepted it silently.

“We don’t have anything to discuss,” Jake stated.

Kit sipped her coffee, burning her tongue on the hot
liquid. She allowed the silence to grow as she gathered her turbulent thoughts.

“Where do you plan on taking Johnny?” she asked, her voice breathy with nervousness.

“To live with his father,” he answered, in a crisp tone that cut to the core of her mother’s heart.

Kit flinched. “What about me? Are you going to tell him that the woman he believes is his mother isn’t really? That he has no mother, and he can’t ever see me again?”

Doubt flickered in Jake’s granite visage, but he quickly masked it. “He’ll understand once I tell him.”

“He’s only five years old, Jake. All he’ll understand is that you’ve taken him away from the one place he’s always felt loved and secure. What’s that going to do to him?” Kit pressed.

“You should’ve thought of that five years ago.”

Defiance surged through her, and she plunked her cup down on the table. She took a step toward him, aiming an accusing finger at him. “Tell me, Jake, where were
you
five years ago? Even if I’d wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to find you.”

Jake kept his gaze locked with hers. “You didn’t even try.”

She leaned forward, his face only inches from hers. “Where would I have started? And even if I had found you, would you have come back? When you left Chaney, you were hell-bent on revenge.”

Jake glanced away. His conscience mocked him, reminding him what kind of person he’d been back then. Would he have returned to care for a child he hadn’t even known he’d fathered? He swallowed hard and shoved his doubts aside. “He’s my son, my own flesh and blood.”

“What would you have done with a baby? What kind of life could you have given him?” she persisted.

Kit’s words hit too close to the truth. While he’d hunted his father’s murderer, Jake had raised enough hell to give even the devil pause. What kind of life was that for a child?

Drawing on a heavy dose of anger, Jake refused to give in to Kit’s arguments. He wouldn’t allow her to sway him from his objective. “I checked the court records. You never legally adopted him.”

She drew back as if she’d been slapped, and the color drained from her face. Then she shot back fiercely, “I don’t need a piece of paper to prove he’s my son.”

“The court does.”

Her lips thinned in irritation. “I’m not talking about legalities, Jake, I’m talking about the heart. I love him. Isn’t that enough?”

“Love didn’t keep my mother here.” The words tumbled out before Jake could stop them.

She studied him with an intensity that seemed to bore straight to his soul. “So you want your son growing up thinking his mother never loved him, either? Do you want your son to feel that same pain you’ve felt every day since your mother left you?”

Jake slammed his cup down on the table, and coffee sloshed over his hand and across the scarred wood surface. “You’re
not
his mother!”

“I’m the only mother he’s ever known,” she said, her voice gut-wrenchingly soft, her eyes glimmering with moisture.

A lonely black pit yawned within Jake. For a moment he was six years old again.

“
Why are you packing, Ma?” young Jake asked curiously
.

“
I’m going to take a little trip, sweetheart,” she replied
.

“I want to go with you
.”

She paused in the middle of folding a dress, and sat
on the bed. Patting the mattress, she urged Jake to join her. He scrambled up, and his mother grasped his small hand
.

“
I wish you could, Jake, but your father needs you. He loves you very much,” she said
.

“
Don’t you love me?
”

She pulled him close to her chest, kissing the top of his head. Her familiar flowery smell soothed him. “Of course I do, more than you’ll ever know. But I have to go away for a little while
.”

Jake’s bottom lip quivered. “I’m going to miss you, Ma
.”

“
And I’m going to miss you. If I could take you with me, I would. You have to believe me, Jake.” His mother’s tone sounded funny, like when he cried after he got hurt
.

“
When will you be back?
”

“
I’m not sure, sweetheart, but remember, I’ll always love you, no matter what. Please promise me you’ll remember that
.”

Jake eased out of her embrace and gazed up at her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, frightening him. “I promise. I love you, Ma.”

For months he’d waited for her to return, but she never did. Finally, he’d given up on her and his promise. He’d also learned how women’s tears were used to hide their lies.

He swallowed the bitter hurt. No, he didn’t want Johnny to know that kind of torture.

“What do you suggest we do?” Jake demanded.

Kit blinked as if surprised. “I don’t think you should take Johnny into town to live with you.”

Anger returned, giving his tone a sharp edge. “You think he should stay living with you like nothing’s changed?”

She glared at him, her eyes flashing behind the round
lenses. “You can’t expect him to accept so many changes at once. We can tell him you’re his father, and let him get used to that first.”

“And when do I get to see him if I’m in town and he’s here?”

She drew back. “You can ride over here whenever you’d like.”

“What if I want to put him to bed every night? You expect me to ride out here every day, then ride back after dark?”

“You certainly can’t live here.”

Jake snorted. “I thought you didn’t care about your reputation.”

Her blush deepened to scarlet. “I don’t, but…”

He crossed his arms. “But what?”

She pressed her spectacles up on her nose, and defiance sparked her tightly drawn features. “It wouldn’t be right.”

He clenched his teeth, his jaw muscle flexing. Should he bring up the ranch loan? If she didn’t pay her mortgage, it would be she who wouldn’t belong there, not him. It would be her breaking society’s rules, not him. It would be her all alone, not him.

Guilt pierced Jake’s stubborn wrath. He didn’t want to relegate her to living the lonely life she’d known as a child. For all her deceit, Jake didn’t want to shred her tattered reputation any more than it had been by the gos-sipmongers of Chaney. And he
had
taken her virginity. She hadn’t lied about that.

Her steady gaze remained unflinching, her lips thinned to a grim line. She resembled a she-cat protecting her young, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. He admired her grit; her bookish appearance had fooled him into thinking she’d back down.

Kit
was
Johnny’s mother—if not by blood, then by love—and she didn’t want to leave her son as his mother
had left him. He admired her for that while at the same time wanting to damn her for keeping Johnny from him.

Kit relinquished her glare and picked up her cup. Studying him silently, she leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee. Although she appeared calm and resolute, Jake spotted a fluttery pulse point in her neck.

He considered his options the way he would approach a client’s defense. With any luck, the ranch would be his in a short time and he would legally move into the house he’d grown up in. Johnny wouldn’t even have to leave the only home he’d known. But there still remained the problem of Kit.

Without her, Johnny would be miserable. Jake couldn’t do that to his son. The only way to ensure Johnny had both his parents would be for Jake to marry Kit.

Having seen his parents’ failed marriage, he hadn’t planned on falling into the same trap. He breathed deeply to dispel the suffocating impact.

Unbidden, the memory of Kit holding the kitten in the barn surfaced. He remembered her gentleness with the tiny creature, and the way the lantern’s light had bathed her hair with a golden halo. He had thought it an angel’s halo.

In spite of her duplicity, he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror if he cast Kit out of the home she’d worked so hard to possess. Infinitely worse would be the loss of her son.

As he considered marrying Kit, the idea didn’t disturb him as much as it originally had. Of course, he’d already tasted her charms and knew she’d be able to assume her wifely duties. And enjoy them.

Warming to his plan, he had to admit marriage wouldn’t be such a bad trade-off. She’d remain Johnny’s mother, and Jake would have her to himself every night.

Because he could no longer trust her, the marriage bed would be the only thing they shared.

He glanced at Kit. “I think I’ve come up with a solution to our problem.”

She tipped her head to the side, a lone curl straying across her creased forehead. Wariness crept into her eyes. “What’s that?”

“Marry me.”

Chapter 15

J
ake Cordell slicked back his thick, autumn-touched hair and slapped bay rum on his neck. Squaring his hat on his head, he picked up a small black velvet box. He flicked open the container’s lid and gazed down at the glittering diamond, a token of his love for the woman he would spend the rest of his life with
.

“
For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, ’til death do us part,” Jake quoted softly
.

He’d made his decision. No more would he strap on the instrument of death around his hips. No more would he risk his life against murderous outlaws. No more would he be alone
.

His heart swelled with an emotion he’d lived without for most of his thirty-one years. No matter what hardships came upon them, Jake knew he and his bride would face them together; side by side for all time. She who knew him as no other woman did and who gazed at him with loving adoration
…

From this moment forward, he’d be her hero alone
.

Kit stared at Jake’s emotionless mask. He’d proposed marriage the way she proposed a horse deal. She, however, displayed more enthusiasm to a prospective buyer.

Hurt indignation swelled in Kit, igniting her temper. “The hell I will.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, then he narrowed his gaze. “Before you turn me down, think of Johnny. What would he think if his father and mother got married and he had a real family?”

Kit knew Johnny’s response: he’d be overjoyed. “That’s not fair!”

A scowl curled his upper lip. “Life isn’t fair. Besides, you’re the one telling me to think of Johnny, to think how all this will change his life. If you marry me, it’s going to be a lot easier on him.”

“And if I say no?”

His expression turned to stone. “Then I take Johnny with me.”

Kit spun away from Jake to stare unseeing out the small kitchen window. To be Mrs. Jake Cordell had been a childish dream she’d clung to for years, but not this way. Not without Jake’s love. How could she marry him, knowing the marriage was a sham, a blackmail scheme she’d agreed to only to stay with her son?

Closing her eyes against waves of anguish, Kit lamented she had no choice. She would remain Johnny’s mother, but she wouldn’t have Jake’s heart. And if she became Jake’s wife, she also relinquished all rights to her ranch to him. Surprisingly, that didn’t bother her. She loved the ranch, but deep down she’d always thought of it as Jake’s. One of the reasons she’d bought it was to ensure Jake’s son would inherit the Cordell home.

But what of Charlie, Ethan, and Pete? This was their home as well. If she agreed to his plan, she had to make sure her friends would have a place here if they wanted to stay.

If she accepted his proposal, it wouldn’t be much different than the way she and Johnny lived now. Surely
Jake expected her to be a wife in name only. He’d made his disgust for her obvious. She swallowed her disappointment and was angry at herself for her treasonous reaction.

She forced herself to think of Johnny. How would Jake explain he was Johnny’s real father? Would the five-year-old understand? Or would it lead to more questions, questions Kit feared to answer?

Turning slowly, Kit met Jake’s rock-steady gaze. “I have some conditions.”

Suspicion lit his maple-colored eyes. “What are they?”

Kit scrubbed her damp palms across her trouser-clad thighs. “What do you plan on doing about Charlie, Ethan, and Pete?”

Jake shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, they’ll continue working here like they’ve always done. I plan on keeping my law office for a little while, and I’ll need some men I can trust to take care of the horses.”

Gratitude tightened Kit’s chest. “Good, that was one of my conditions. This is their home.” She took a deep breath. “And I don’t want you to tell Johnny about Maggie.”

“Why?”

“It’ll be confusing enough for him when you tell him you’re his father. When he’s older, he’ll understand the situation better.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “All right.”

Kit sighed in relief as she nodded. Only one problem remained: the mortgage on the ranch. Unwilling to deceive him any further, she wanted to have everything in the open between them. If she had been honest when Jake had arrived home, maybe things would’ve worked out differently.

“There’s one more thing,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“If we marry, the ranch becomes yours,” she began.

Jake’s features became like marble, his eyes curtained to hide his thoughts. “That’s right.”

She swallowed the pride blocking her throat. “In ten days, the mortgage comes due. It’s five hundred dollars, and I only have two hundred. I’m not proud of the fact that I don’t have the money, but you have a right to know what you’re getting into.”

An unidentifiable emotion flickered across Jake’s face, and he looked down at the floor, hiding his expression. Kit’s palms grew moist from nervousness. His estimation of her must have taken another steep plunge.

Raising his head, Jake met her eyes with a steadfast gaze. “I’ve got some money saved from my bounty hunting. The mortgage’ll get paid.”

Both elated and humiliated, Kit didn’t know how to respond. “All right.” The only secret she harbored was her identity as T. K. Thorne. She looked at his flinty expression and her courage failed her. “I guess that’s it, then. I’ll marry you.”

“When?”

She shrugged, surrendering to the inevitable. “Whenever you want.”

“Sunday.”

Shock robbed Kit of her voice for a moment. “That’s in four days!”

He nodded. “The sooner we get married, the sooner I can start being a father to my son.”

Although his voice was steady, Kit could hear regret echo in his tone. He’d already lost five years with Johnny; Kit couldn’t deny him any longer.

“We’ll have to talk to the minister,” she stated.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll go visit with him. Where’s Johnny?”

Kit hesitated a moment. “Pete took him fishing down at the creek.”

Jake’s expression grew pensive. “My father took me fishing a couple of times. Those were the only times I really felt like he cared for me a little.” He started, as if he’d revealed too much. “I want to take Johnny fishing, and I want him to remember those times after he grows up.”

Kit resisted the urge to touch him, to assure him he would be a good father. She turned toward the door. “I’ll take you to him.”

She led him out of the house, and they walked in strained silence through the trees. At the edge of the clearing, Jake paused and clasped Kit’s wrist, halting her. “I’ll tell him we’re getting married.”

She remained silent a moment, seeing anxiety in his eyes. “Do you want me to?”

He seemed to ponder her question. “We’ll both tell him.”

Hope flickered in Kit’s breast. He’d said
we
. Maybe there was a chance Jake would come to care for her like a real husband. Pleased by his concession, she smiled. “Good idea.”

His features eased as a smile ghosted his lips.

Jake glanced down at his hand, which banded Kit’s slender wrist. He liked touching her. He admired her courage in standing up to him for the sake of her friends, instead of trying to ease her own plight. But it was her divulging the news about the ranch’s mortgage and her inability to pay it that had nearly shattered his resolve. He’d been certain she’d hide that from him, as she’d hidden Johnny’s identity.

Confused by her candor, he didn’t know what to think of Kit. This time she’d been honest. This time it was him keeping the secret.

He released her reluctantly, and they crossed the remaining distance to the creek’s high bank.

“Hi, Mr. Cordell,” Johnny hollered, scrambling to his feet.

Pete rose also and laid a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder, holding him back protectively. Jake glanced at Kit, who sent the gray-haired Indian a nod. Pete removed his hand, his creased face relaxing. Had Kit thought he’d steal Johnny away? Her distrust struck a discordant note in Jake. It was one thing for him to distrust her, but another for her to distrust him.

Jake turned back to his son.
His son
.

“Hello, Johnny.” Jake could hardly speak past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even been this nervous at his first gunfight.

Like the focusing of a blurry picture, Johnny’s image cleared and Jake could suddenly see himself in the boy. Why hadn’t he recognized his own flesh and blood? He took a deep breath. “Catching anything?”

Pete held up a stringer with five medium-sized trout. “Got us a start on supper.” He latched his shrewd gaze on Jake. “How about you?”

Jake glanced at Kit, who seemed to be studying the fish with more attention than necessary. He turned back to the aged Indian. “You could say I caught more than I bargained for.”

Kit speared him with a sharp look.

Jake hunkered down beside Johnny, who stood holding his crude fishing pole. “Remember when you asked me if I would be your father if I married your ma?”

Johnny nodded. “Yep, but you said you had to love each other first.”

Kit straightened and turned away, but not before Jake spotted her trembling lips. His own stomach clenched with regrets. He pasted on a smile. “What if I told you that even if I didn’t marry her, I’d be your father?”

Johnny appeared puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m really your father.”

Johnny turned to Kit. “Is it true, Ma? Is Mr. Cordell my pa?”

Her smile appeared strained. “Yes, he is, sweetheart.”

Johnny squealed with delight and wrapped his skinny arms around Jake’s neck. “You’re my pa!”

Unexpected tears burned in Jake’s eyes, and he hugged his son close. Glancing up, he noticed Kit’s gentle gaze upon them, and his heart skipped a beat. Never knowing what he’d missed all these years, he hadn’t longed for a home and family. Now, however, a fierce protectiveness rose in him. No one would harm Johnny, or Kit, as long as he lived.

Johnny drew back, but kept his hand on Jake’s shoulder. The boy frowned slightly. “How come you never came to see me before?”

Jake licked his suddenly dry lips. How could he tell Johnny he’d been too busy drinking and whoring?

“He had a job to do, Johnny. He was hunting down outlaws who belonged in jail,” Kit replied.

Surprised by her defense for him, Jake cast her a grateful look, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

His son’s beaming smile returned. “But now you’re going to stay here with us, right?”

“As soon as your mother and I get married.”

The boy looked at Kit. “When is that?”

“Sunday,” she replied.

“Then we’ll all be a family,” Jake added.

Johnny’s whoop nearly deafened him. “You hear that, Pete? I got a real family.”

The sage Indian nodded, his obsidian eyes twinkling. “It’s about time. I figure if a man and a woman is going to get married, they may as well do it without a lot of fuss.”

“Believe me, there isn’t going to be a lot of fuss for this one,” Kit said, bitterness ringing in her words.

Jake’s light mood evaporated. In spite of the circumstances surrounding the wedding, his pride didn’t want others to know he’d used extortion to gain Kit’s agreement.

Johnny suddenly grabbed his fishing pole. “I got one,” he shouted, drawing Jake’s attention.

He turned back to the boy, and together he and Johnny landed a flopping fish on the bank.

“Thanks, Pa,” Johnny said, holding up the twisting trout by the line.

Jake ruffled his dark hair, his heart expanding into his throat. “You’re welcome, son.”

The next morning, Kit reined in Cassie in front of Freda’s neat whitewashed fence. After dismounting, she wrapped the leather straps around the hitching post and brushed the dust from her burgundy split skirt.

Opening the gate, she followed the hard-packed dirt path to the front porch. Her knock was answered a few moments later by her petite friend.

“Come in,” Freda greeted with an expansive wave of a flour-covered hand. After Kit stepped across the threshold, Freda closed the door behind her. “What brings you here this early?”

“Do you have a fresh pot of coffee?”

Freda’s smile faded. “In the kitchen. There you can tell me what bothers you.”

After pouring them each a cup of coffee, Kit lowered herself to a ladderback chair. The older woman wiped her hands on her apron and joined her.

“This is about Jake Cordell,” Freda stated.

Kit glanced at her friend, startled. “How did you know?”

“ I wasn’t born yesterday.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Jake has been as grouchy as a fox.”

Kit bit back a smile. “As grouchy as a bear.” She
sipped her coffee, appreciating the strong, bitter brew. “At least Jake’s not enjoying this any more than I am. We’re getting married.”

Freda’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. “Serious you are?”

Kit nodded. “I’m afraid so. I told him Johnny was his son, and he threatened to take Johnny away from me if I didn’t marry him.”

The German woman sighed. “I am not surprised. Jake will do anything to keep his son happy.”

Kit laughed without humor. “And here I thought nobody knew Johnny was Jake’s son. I guess everyone but Jake saw the resemblance.” She paused, a sob welling in her throat. “How can I go through with it, Freda? He doesn’t love me.”

“But you love him.”

“That’s why it hurts so much.”

Freda reached across the table and grasped Kit’s hand. “In the old country, arranged marriages were common. It was with Hans and me, but we came to love each other. For Jake, it will happen also. He already cares for you. If he didn’t, your feelings for Johnny would not have mattered to him.”

Freda’s words pulled Kit out of despair, but did she dare hope that Jake would someday love her as much as she loved him? “How did you make your husband love you?”

Freda smiled, and her gaze seemed to turn inward to unseen memories. For a moment, Kit could see how Freda must’ve looked as a young woman, before time’s trials had furrowed her brow and shadowed her eyes. “After we were married, those were good days. My Hans would work in the fields and I would take him his lunch. We would sit and talk beneath a big oak tree. We fell in love during that time.” She blinked and focused on Kit. “I did nothing but be with him. Often we did
not even talk, but just sat quietly in front of the hearth. I would mend and Hans would smoke his pipe. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still smell the tobacco.” Freda shook her head, the years stamping their mark on her features once more. “If only he had stayed away from the liquor.”