Samantha James (29 page)

“I don’t imagine your brother is thrilled I booted him out of his room.” Kane glanced around the bedroom. The furnishings were tall and spare, of dark polished wood. A pair of antique rifles hung on the opposite walk Clearly it was a man’s room.

Abby withdrew her hand to the safety of her lap. “Not at all,” she said quickly. “Dillon doesn’t sleep here at the ranch. In fact, he hasn’t lived here for years. He has a small house in town. It makes it easier—with him being marshal and all.”

Kane digested this news silently, watching as she moved to straighten the lace doily on the bureau. She’d have liked to stay and keep him company, but she sensed he was tired. She quietly withdrew and left him to nap.

She returned that evening with more broth. He talked her into bringing him a portion of the stew that she, Lucas and Dorothy ate for dinner. It certainly seemed to do him no harm; in fact, he seemed much stronger than he had all day. She decided this was a good time to get him on his feet.

She tapped a fingertip against one pearly-white tooth. “Maybe I should get Lucas—”

“Lucas?”

“Dorothy’s husband. He’s the ranch foreman.”

“What for?” he demanded. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with my legs. Just help me get on my feet and I’ll be fine.” Abby wasn’t so certain, but she decided to keep quiet. He pushed back the covers with his good arm and lowered his legs to the floor. Bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks. His naked chest seemed to jump out at her. Despite his illness, his raw masculinity leaped out at her, making her feel all jittery inside. She was sincerely grateful he still wore his drawers.

He got to his feet. He swayed unsteadily and Abby instinctively slid her arm around the steely expanse of his waist. When his head cleared, he took several short steps.

“Damn! My legs feel like mush.”

“It’s because you’ve been off your feet so long. You’re doing fine. The next time you’re up you won’t feel so weak.”

He turned his head. His chin grazed feathery-soft wisps of hair at her temples. The scent of wildflowers and her soft, yielding body against his did nothing to ease his dizziness. By the time they’d walked around the room three times his shoulder was throbbing and his head whirled so he could scarcely think. He collapsed onto the bed with a muttered curse.

“Hell! I can’t walk. I can’t even feed myself. What the hell kind of man am I?” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the blackness that threatened to snare him once again.

A gentle hand brushed a lock of hair from his brow. Small fingers interlocked with his.
My kind of man
, whispered a voice as soft as fleece.

His mind spun and drifted. Surely he was dreaming. Abby never would have uttered such foolishness—never in a million years …

T
he next day Kane showed a remarkable improvement, the third still more. Abby decided he was well enough to eat in the dining room with the rest of them. Lucas had joined them for dinner. Abby explained that he and Dorothy had always eaten with the family.

A week ago Kane would have accused her of lying if she’d told him she ate with the hired help. Suffering pangs of guilt, he now shamefully ducked his head as she said the blessing.

He was downright nervous, though he hated to admit it, even to himself. It had been a long time since he’d sat down to a meal with decent people. But at least Dorothy wasn’t the fire-breathing dragon he’d first thought. And Lucas was friendly and amiable; it wasn’t long before the tight knot in his stomach was gone. He listened quietly when the conversation turned to ranch business. Abby and Lucas discussed the expected yield for next year’s herd—and the market price as well. It was clear Abby was no novice when it came to building a herd. When he commented on it, Lucas gave a shout of laughter.

“Son, this Utile gal was up in the saddle when she was three and riding herd when she was no bigger than a beanpole. Her pa used to brag she was a match for any cowhand a hundred miles around.”

Heat scorched Abby’s cheeks. Kane absorbed this latest bit of news with mounting insight. Somehow, it fit. She wouldn’t be content to sit on the porch and give orders. And he knew for a fact she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

But he’d done her a disservice, he realized grimly, for nothing about this woman was as he’d thought. She wasn’t spoiled and pampered; she was smart and strong and sassy, a woman quite unlike any other.

All along he’d reviled her for what he’d considered her preconceived notions about him. But he was just as guilty—no, far
more
guilty—of judging her unfairly than she had been of judging him.

The knowledge left a bad taste in his mouth.

Dorothy and Lucas insisted on cleaning up. A hand curled inside his elbow, Abby showed him into the parlor, a warm, cozy room filled with sunshine, braided rugs and several big overstuffed chairs. She returned to the kitchen after he eased into the settee opposite the huge stone fireplace. Kane glanced around, calling himself every kind of jackass, because even in this he’d been wrong. He’d expected her home to be far more grand and pretentious. Instead it was homey and comfortable …

The kind of place
he
would have liked to call home.

Where the thought came from, he didn’t know. But he was thoroughly annoyed. Damn! What was wrong with him? He might have been a homebody once, but that was years ago—and with Lorelei. A lot had changed since then—
everything
had changed since then.

Abby returned carrying two cups of coffee. She placed his on the small table before him, then perched on the other end of the settee. “That was quite an enlightening meal, wasn’t it?” Her tone was falsely bright. “I suppose I should have warned you—Lucas can be rather frank, sometimes a little too frank. But at least you know the truth about Abigail MacKenzie … I’m afraid she’s not much of a woman.”

Kane stopped in the midst of reaching for his coffee. He glanced at her sharply. “Why on earth would you say that?” he demanded.

“Why else? Because I’m twenty years old, I grew up on this ranch, and just about the only man I’ve ever spent time with was Pa.” Abby looked away and whispered, “I’ve never really had a man come courting me.” Her lips trembled slightly. “Dillon says it’s because most of the men in town are scared to death of a woman who’s better with a gun and a lasso than needle and thread.”

Some strange emotion unfurled in his chest. This was a side of Abby he had yet to glimpse. He had seen her vulnerable, yes; but never quite so exposed and powerless to fight back. Usually she was so brave and capable … His heart twisted. Didn’t she know she was sweet and softly feminine, all a man could ever want? Any man worth his salt wouldn’t be threatened by her starch and sass—he certainly wasn’t. It merely made her all the more exciting …

She ran the tip of her finger around the china cup. “Remember the night you said my daddy probably packed me off to some fancy Eastern school for ladies?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer. “Well, you were right. But the truth is, I was only there for a month before the headmistress, Mrs. Rutherford, sent
me
packing home. She told Pa there was no way in hell I’d ever be a proper lady. She said I couldn’t sing. I couldn’t dance. She said I walked like a—” Abby couldn’t quite hide the quiver of her Lip. “—a cow …”

The thought of someone so humbling his proud, fiery Abby made Kane see red. The woman must have been mad—most likely jealous! At the same time, the mere mention of her loose, leggy walk pitched him into a realm of purely sensual awareness. Her presence these past days had taken its toll He had only to glance at her and remember how it had been between them—the sweet, wet heat of her lips beneath his, the way it felt to be buried deep inside her creamy sheath. And he’d dreamed how it would feel to have those deliciously long legs wrapped around his …

But a sudden thought occurred to him. “You keep talking about your father,” he said slowly. “Where was your mother?”

She set aside the coffee. “She died of pneumonia when I was seven. But I’m afraid I don’t remember much of her. Dorothy and Lucas didn’t work for us then. There was just me and Pa and Dillon. But Dillon is ten years older than me. He scouted for the army after the war, so while I was growing up, he was gone most of the time. Pa’s the one who raised me.”

Her head was bowed low, eyes downcast. Her hands lay clasped in her lap, the pose oddly defenseless. A wistful sadness shone in her expression. It didn’t take much to know she was thinking of her father.

He watched her rise and move to the window. Pushing aside the lace curtain, she peered through the glass.

His voice cut through the quiet. “You miss him, don’t you?”

She swiped at one cheek. The merest hint of a smile grazed her lips. “I guess it shows, doesn’t it?”

Kane was on his feet before he was even aware of it. He wanted to reach out and hold her, to say … what? Abruptly he checked the impulse, clenching his fists, his features tightening almost bitterly. His conscience stabbed at him. Who was he to offer her comfort or tenderness? Who was he to offer her anything?

“Pa and I had something … I don’t know what to call it except special,” she went on. “Maybe it’s because it was just the two of us for so long. I don’t mean to say that Pa didn’t love Dillon as much as he loved me,” she clarified quickly, “because he did. But Pa always said Dillon would rather be off hunting down outlaws and searching for adventure than chasing down a stray calf.”

Kane stood off to one side. “Your father disapproved?”

She hesitated, resting her forehead against the glass. “I don’t think it was so much disapproval,” she said slowly, “as it was disappointment.”

There was a small pause. “Dillon doesn’t have the same feeling for the land that Pa and I had,” she said slowly, almost to herself. “But this ranch meant everything to Pa. He worked hard to make it what it is today,” she added feelingly. “I can’t fail him. I—I won’t.”

She stared off into the distance, where the amber glow of the sunset dappled acre after acre of grassland. Sheer determination etched the proud lines of her profile.

The blackness in his soul yawned deeper.

Once … once he’d felt the very same emotions that drove Abby at this very moment. He experienced the same bond with the land, the urge to succeed, the desire for success. He’d wanted nothing more than to preserve and protect what was his … It hadn’t mattered that he’d gained what he had through marriage. He’d wanted to prove his worth to himself … and to Lorelei.

He came up behind Abby, losing the battle not to touch her. His hand settled on one shoulder. “What will happen to the ranch now that your father is gone?”

“It belongs to both Dillon and me now. For the most part it will be business as usual. Day-to-day operations will be under my direction instead of Pa’s. Any major decisions will be handled by both of us.”

She turned. His nearness, as well as the familiarity of his touch, lent her courage. She searched his face. “Have you thought any more about Dillon’s job offer?”

Abby knew the instant the question emerged that it was a mistake. His hand fell away from her shoulder. He spoke in a monotone.

“Your memory’s mighty short. I turned it down, remember?”

She stared at him, hurt and dismayed, but willing herself not to show it. “Of course I remember,” she said at last. “I just thought you might have reconsidered—”

“What’s to reconsider?” His features shut down from all expression. He had stepped back, and it was as if she could see him pulling into himself … and pushing her out.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She raised her chin, her tone as cold as his. “But I seem to recall that night at the Silver Spur you said you planned to see if any of the ranchers around here needed a hand.”

“I changed my mind.” He turned and walked back to the settee.

Abby’s eyes drilled into his back. Did he really think he could dismiss her so easily? “No,” she said very deliberately. “I think i changed your mind, Kane. So why don’t you just admit it?”

That snagged his attention, all right. His head came up. His lips twisted. “Oh, come on, Abby. Do you really expect me to stay on as one of your hired hands? Or have you forgotten what happened between us? And what would your brother say if he knew I took his Utile sister to bed? Hell, he’d be hauling out his shotgun!”

She caught her breath. She hadn’t expected him to mention that particular incident; neither of them had dared to speak of it since that terrible morning after … But more than once she’d caught him staring at her when he thought she didn’t see. And she knew the memory was there, simmering just beneath the surface as it did with her, always …
always
.

Her mouth was suddenly dry as dust. “I don’t see why that should make any difference.” She wet her lips, wondering what he would say if she begged him to stay, the way she yearned to … “Kane, surely you realize … this could be a fresh start for you … a chance to start over …”

Ruthlessly he closed his mind against her. Christ! Didn’t she realize he didn’t dare stay? He was like a lovesick calf around Abby. Oh, he recognized the symptoms—he’d experienced them once before. He’d start thinking about settling down, building a home, a future …

No, he couldn’t fall in love. He
wouldn’t
. But it seemed he couldn’t help himself either.

Guilt shafted through him. It struck him that he could scarcely recall what Lorelei had looked like—what it had felt like to hold her, to make love to her. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Abby, her face turned up to his, eyes tear-bright and wanting. All he could feel was Abby, her form soft and sweet-smelling … the kind of woman he’d always wanted.

The kind of woman he didn’t deserve.

It was laughable, really, to think a man with his past could want a woman like her. Savagely he asked himself what the hell he could offer her. Not a goddamn thing—nothing!

Not even the respect of his name.

But Abby wasn’t about to let him off so easily. “You know what?” she said suddenly. “I think you’re scared, Kane. Deep inside I think you’re afraid. I think that’s why you’re running—why you keep running. From me. From everything.”