Solitaire (10 page)

Cat followed him to a cedar bar that sat opposite the huge fireplace. Sunlight lanced through the area, setting the honey-colored cedar aglow. She took a seat on one of the leather-upholstered black bar stools while Slade went behind the bar and finished making the promised pitcher of margaritas. Pouring two, he placed them on a tray then motioned her to follow him out to the screened-in porch.

The breeze was dry and lifted a few errant strands of her damp hair. Slade pulled out a chair and she sat down, taking the proffered drink.

Slade sat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other. A hundred feet from the porch, a slender ribbon of water wound its way through a line of cottonwoods. He sighed happily. Everything he valued most was right here before him–including this slender young woman he had promised to nurse back to health.

“What did you use, 150-proof tequila?” Cat grinned, a sweet shiver rippling through her.

“You asked for a double,” he reminded her innocently. “I took you at your word.”

Cat eyed the cold, beaded glass. “This would neutralize a tank,” she grumbled good-naturedly.

“Drink it slowly. Texas is like the Caribbean or South America; you’re living at a different pace than most Americans.”

She sipped the tart drink and nodded. “I’ve served my fair share of time on those kinds of jobs, too. I call it Bahama time.”

Slade grinned. “Yeah. If you ask, ‘How far is it?’ they’ll say, ‘Not far, not far.’ And if you ask, ‘When?’ they’ll say, ‘Soon, soon.’”

“Maybe those people have the right attitude, Slade. Maybe we westerners are too driven and don’t know how to relax.” She stretched luxuriously.

“Do you know how?” he asked, holding her amused gaze.

“No. I keep looking at this enforced eight-week convalescence and see myself going crazy. What will I do?”

Slade gave her an eloquent shrug. “I’ve got plenty of work waiting–assay reports, charting, core samples to check.” Slade slid her a careful glance. “If you get bored, you might want to pitch in…” he baited.

Cat chuckled and raised her glass in toast. “Not a chance, Slade. Not a chance.”

* * *

Cat couldn’t get to sleep, no matter how hard she tried. Each time she closed her eyes, images of her entrapment in the mine loomed before her. Thank God, Slade had kept her going, or she’d have given up all hopes of rescue. Slade. Almost immediately, she felt relief from the terror gnawing away at her. She drifted off to sleep, remembering how his lips had felt….

Toward 4:00 a.m., Cat jerked awake. Shakily she got up and pulled on her white cotton robe. Making her way through the still house, Cat stood at the screen doors. Although she was cold, sweat bathed her brow. How long she stood there, her forehead resting against the cool aluminum molding, she didn’t know. Only when she heard a door open and then quietly close did she straighten up, her attention drawn to the hallway.

Slade rubbed his face wearily as he padded into the living room. Seeing Cat standing forlornly near the doors, he halted abruptly.

“Cat?”

“I’m all right,” she replied faintly.

He heard the strain in her voice and walked over. Even in the dim light, he could see the tension etched in Cat’s somber features. “Bad dreams?” he guessed, moving toward the bar.

With a shaky laugh, Cat followed him. “Yes. In it, my Australian contractor was calling me to find out where the hell I was. What about that contract we signed, he kept saying.” That was one of her dreams. The one that had awakened her involved the mine cave-in. Pride stopped her from admitting as much to Slade. She sat down on the bar stool and watched as he began making a small pot of coffee. Just having him nearby eased some of the fear ripping through her.

Slade pushed the errant strands of his hair off his brow and turned around to retrieve two earthenware mugs. Then he leaned against the counter that stood between them.

“How can you fulfill your contract now?” he demanded. Concern was evident in his voice. “You’re going to be laid up for two months solid. Isn’t there a clause somewhere that refers to acts of God or some such thing to get you off the hook?”

Cat turned away. Right now, Slade looked endearingly mussed and she had a powerful desire to slip her arms around his broad, capable shoulders and seek the solace he was offering. Without a doubt, Slade would hold her if she wanted and give her the peace she sought. Torn by so many conflicting emotions and her fears of ever entering a mine again, Cat remained silent.

“Hey…” Slade gently touched her arm. “What is it, Cat? Come on, you can tell me…”

Cat hung her head, not wanting Slade to see the stinging tears blurring her vision. “I, uh…”

“Great start,” he teased, “what else?”

With a loud sniff, Cat managed a half laugh and half sob. “You’ll think it’s stupid. Childish.”

As much as Slade wanted to continue touching her soft, warm skin, he forced his hand to drop away. Leaning against the bar, his head bent forward almost touching hers, he said, “Okay, straight-arrow, shoot. I don’t think a contract is the reason you’re crying.” His voice lowered to a velvet coaxing. “Fear of entering a mine is probably more like it. Right?”

Cat nodded slowly. “Oh, I feel so damn stupid, Slade.” She raised her head, dabbed away at the evidence of the tears and stared at him. “Here I am, a grown woman–not a scared little child. So I was in a mine cave-in; big deal. I ought to be able to face my fear of going in again instead of shriveling up and dying inside whenever I think about it. Or dream about it.”

With a slight smile, Slade shook his head. “As a kid, I was always afraid of thunderstorms. I still am to this day. Get a lightning strike too close and this guy cringes and ducks.”

“I doubt you’re afraid of anything, Slade.”

“Think I’m fibbing?”

“I don’t know. These days, I’m one knot of confusion.” Cat smiled slightly at him. “Maybe you’d say something like that just to make me feel better. I don’t know…”

Slade had to physically stop himself from pulling Cat close to him. Right now, she was very, very fragile. “Look,” he began softly, “you’re going to go through all kinds of daily and nightly hell with this fear. Get used to it. More important, don’t close up. Talk about those fears, Cat. That’s one of the reasons I wanted you with me: I’ve survived more than my fair share of cave-ins. I know what you’re going through and I can help you if you’ll let me.” He reached out, capturing her tightly knotted hands on the bar. Gently, he pried each of her fingers free until they were relaxed between his own larger hands.

His warmth spread through her, enveloping her pounding heart. Cat met his tender expression. “Was anyone there to help you through nights like…this?”

“Most of the time, no. And I’m not ashamed to admit that after the first cave-in, I hit alcohol to escape from the same type of hell you’re going to experience.” Slade grimaced. “After a few bad weeks, I got off the booze and cleaned up my act. I crawled through it and survived, just like you will.”

Her heart wrenched at his admission. “I don’t know how you stood it, Slade. Right now I don’t want to be alone. That’s a first for me; practically all my life I’ve been alone or lived in remote places. I liked it. But now…”

He squeezed her hands. “We all have barriers we can’t overcome alone, sweetheart. And I promised you, you won’t have to go through this alone…”

She mustered a tender smile. “I told you I was a bad patient. Thanks for being here for me, Slade. The next step is to stop having nightmares about Ian Connors trying to pressure me into fulfilling that contract.”

Chapter Five

A
week later, Cat’s worst fears came true when she received the dreaded call from Ian Connors, owner of the Australian mining company. She had been drinking her third cup of morning coffee, reading a book Slade had written on sedimentary gemstones, when the phone rang. Pilar answered it and pointed to the phone sitting near Cat’s elbow.

“A Mr. Connors,
señorita
?”

Cat felt a sharp stab in her stomach as all her carefully hidden fears exploded within her. Pilar shot her a look of concern as Cat picked up the extension.

Closing her eyes, Cat took the call, too occupied to see Pilar quietly slip from the kitchen and hurry across the patio toward Slade’s hobby shop. Mouth dry, heart pounding at the base of her throat, Cat barely got out a civil hello to Ian.

Pilar, alarmed by Cat’s unexpected behavior, rushed out to Slade’s shop to tell him that Cat had turned alarmingly pale. He followed her back without delay. Folding his arms against his chest, he grimly watched Cat as he eavesdropped on the heated conversation.

“Look, Mr. Connors,” she was explaining, a hint of tremor in her voice. “I simply can’t come. I’m under doctor’s orders to rest for two months. There are a number of other highly qualified mining engineers who can take my place. You don’t need me.”

Slade’s eyes narrowed as he saw Cat nervously wipe her perspiring brow. In the past week, she had tried so valiantly to fight her inner battle with fear. And yet, he had sensed her aching need to lean on him, to trust him to help her. His mouth flattened into a thin line as he pondered the situation.

“I know what my contract says, Mr. Connors. You don’t need to remind me. Look, there’s no use shouting! That’s not going to get us anywhere. I’m no happier than you are that that mine caused me so much injury.” She twisted around on the stool, uncomfortable. “And no, I’m not going to fulfill the terms of the contract. You what? Are you joking?” Cat rolled her eyes and stifled the urge to swear. “You’re going to sue me?” She clenched her teeth momentarily. “Okay, you go right ahead and try. But before you do, let me give you the phone number of the surgeon who saved my life! He can fill you in on all the gory details.”

She was breathing hard by the time the call was completed. Slamming down the phone, Cat regretted the action instantly. Holding her right side, she slipped off the chair and headed out of the house and onto the screen-enclosed patio.

A few minutes later, Slade ambled out with two glasses of cool, frosty lemonade. Cat’s lower lip was compressed into a tight line, and her eyes flashed with emerald fire as she glared over at him.

“I suppose you heard?”

“He’s just upset. Here, this is nice and cool. Come and sit down with me here and let’s discuss it.”

Unable to contain her anger, Cat put the lemonade down and began pacing the entire length of the porch. “Of all things, Slade. Ian Connors thinks he’s going to sue me for breach of contract!”

Slade rose to his feet, holding out his hand to her. “Come on,” he coaxed, “let’s go for a walk down by the stream.”

It seemed natural for Cat to slip her hand into Slade’s. As they wandered down the stone path toward the stand of cottonwoods and the ribbon of water, she relaxed even more. She gave Slade a warm look.

“You’re good for me.”

“I try to be, Cat. You deserve it.”

She shook her head. “I wish Greg had felt that way.” Then she added, “We almost got married.”

Slade slowed down as they neared the stream. Multicolored rocks peeked out from just below the water’s surface and shimmered in the early-morning sun. He motioned for Cat to sit against the trunk of a cottonwood and then joined her. “Want to tell me about it?”

Cat chose two stalks of grass and plucked them. She handed one to Slade and then put the other into the corner of her mouth. Tipping her head back, she stared up through the dark green, sunlit foliage.

“It’s the closest I ever came to marriage.”

“You make it sound like a disease.” Slade watched as the tension drained from Cat’s features.

“I don’t mean it to sound like that. I fell head over heels in love with Greg. Imagine, at twenty-seven taking the blind nosedive of an eighteen-year-old girl.”

Slade smiled slightly. “There must have been some chemistry there to have done it.”

With a painful nod, Cat said, “There was. Or I thought there was.”

“What went wrong?” Slade resisted taking the small, graceful hand that lay so close to his. Was she even aware of her sensuality? He loved the feminine swing of her hips and the luscious mouth that begged to be kissed. And sometimes her breathless laughter sent a keen ache through him.

“Greg was a geologist, like you. He was thirty, single and had been knocking around in the industry since he was twenty-four. His whole life revolved around finding the mother lode.”

Slade heard the disgust in her voice. “A treasure hunter?”

“Of the first order. Gold, platinum or any kind of precious gem mining. It didn’t matter to him. He lived for that find of a lifetime.”

Slade suddenly recalled their conversation when they had flown in from Maine, and remembered how Cat had reacted to the possibility that he might also be a treasure hunter. He certainly didn’t want Cat to place him in Greg’s category. Had she already? Clearing his throat, he asked, “Greg put money before people?”

Throwing the chewed stalk of grass away, Cat picked another. A frown creased her brow. “Yes. Only I didn’t realize the depth of his treasure fever. The whole thing came to a head when he found gold on some land he had purchased near the Kalgoorlie mines.”

With a whistle, Slade turned around, facing her. “The Kalgoorlie gold mines are among the best in Australia.”

“Overnight, Greg became a very rich man,” she recalled, bitterness staining her words.

Slade picked up her hand. “But?”

“What we had became second best,” she admitted hoarsely. “Greg put gold above us. He really didn’t need what I had to offer him. Gold fever became his wife, friend and lover.”

Slade ran his thumb across her soft cheek. How he wanted to gather Cat into his arms and hold her! He could see tears glistening in her eyes and he gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Listen to me, Cat,” Slade said in a low voice charged with emotion. “Greg didn’t deserve you. Anyone who puts money ahead of the most priceless gift in the world hasn’t got his head screwed on straight.”

Cat fought back the tears and met Slade’s level look. “Do you, Slade?”

He shook his head. “I may have green-fire fever, but it has never come between me and the woman in my life.” His hands tightened momentarily on her shoulders. It was important that Cat believe him. “I do know what money can and cannot buy. Do you understand that?”
Please, say you do,
he begged silently.