Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (38 page)

Kate turned to find Kyle standing just inside the door, watching her intently. She offered him a bright smile. This place felt like a home. It was as if she could feel the warmth and love of many years of family in this room. While the entire cabin was no larger than the kitchens in the fancy houses she’d known all her life, none of them had ever given her such a heartfelt feeling of homecoming.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, suspecting Kyle expected her to say something. He kept referring to her as a socialite, and probably had many misconceived ideas about her. Most of them had probably been true at some point, but Kate was no longer the naïve girl she’d been a year ago. There was more, much more to life than wealth and privilege. If this place was any indication, Kyle was one of the richest men she knew, and she envied him. In comparison, she was nothing but a pauper.

Kyle finally moved completely into the room. “I’m sure it ain’t what you’re used to, but it holds a lot of memories for me.”

“It’s perfect,” she replied, looking up at him. “Thank you for offering me sanctuary here.” Kyle’s eyes narrowed. Too late, she realized her wrong choice of words. She held her breath, but he didn’t say anything.

“You can use this room over here,” he said, walking toward the door on the left, and opening it. Kate came up behind him and looked inside.

“This was my grandparents’ bedroom. I use it mostly for storage now. I’ll clear out some of the stuff.”

Kate’s eyes widened as she entered this bedroom. A large bed stood along the back wall, the wooden bedframe obviously carved by hand. Her eyes followed the intricate patterns along the headboard. Kate didn’t know what they represented, but someone had put a lot of time, and no doubt love, into building this frame. The sun shone through a small window on the left wall, illuminating the patterns in golden light. The mattress was covered in various animal furs. Above the bed hung a bow and arrow, and a white pelt of some animal. Much of the walls were adorned with Indian-style artwork and weaponry. A simple homemade chest of drawers leaned against the wall to her right. The only things that seemed out of place here were the piles of saddlery, harness, and leather equipment in the corners.

Kate stepped further into the room, her eyes drawn to a single photograph in a simple wooden frame that stood on the dresser. A handsome dark haired man dressed in buckskin pants, and simple cotton shirt stood with his arms lovingly around a petite blond-haired woman, also dressed in buckskins. The woman’s head leaned against the man’s chest, and although they posed looking directly at the camera, the love and contentment in their eyes shone through as if they were standing here in front of her.

Kate guessed them to be in their fifties. She’d never seen a couple posed in such a way, being more used to the formal photographs of wives standing unsmiling behind and off to the sides of their equally stiffly posed husbands. The beautiful relaxed pose of this couple brought a burning sensation to her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

“These are your grandparents?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“That picture was taken a long time ago, probably before I was even born,” Kyle said, and stood beside her.

“They must have loved each other very much.”

Kyle inhaled deeply. “Yeah, they did. They passed away within a couple of months of each other. My grandpa just couldn’t go on living after grandma died.” 

Kate turned her head to him. His voice held an unusual high pitch, and he cleared his throat. She put her hand on his arm. “And you loved them very much,” she said, looking into his eyes.

Kyle’s muscles bunched beneath her touch. His face held an intense seriousness she hadn’t seen before, and his deep brown eyes stared raptly at her. What was it she saw in his eyes? Deep longing, but for what? Abruptly, she turned and glanced at the image of his grandfather again. Those eyes, that look, were one and the same. Kate’s mouth suddenly went dry, and her heart rate increased.

She dropped her hand from Kyle’s arm, and turned away. What was happening to her? With a sudden jolt of adrenaline, it became clear. Her own knight in buckskins was sweeping her off her feet, had been doing so over the course of this entire day.  No, it just couldn’t be. This fairytale could only end in a nightmare, for both of them.

Chapter 6

Kyle rummaged through the old trunk, tossing aside shirts and britches he couldn’t remember ever wearing. There had to be some old dresses here that belonged to his sisters. He was sure they hadn’t taken all of their belongings with them to Virginia City. Since Josh wasn’t home, he’d let himself in to his parents’ cabin. Hannah’s room had been turned into another storage area, and it was here he found the trunk of clothing.

Katelyn needed other things to wear besides that fancy blue dress she had on. He could offer her some buckskin britches. Smiling at the thought, he wondered what kind of reaction he would get if he suggested it to her.

Any britches of his that might fit her would have to be from when he was younger than fourteen years old. After that, he’d grown out of his gangly boy’s body. He doubted his mother held on to things for ten years. Old clothes usually found other uses. Kyle remembered the way his hands spanned Kate’s entire small waist. That thought brought with it other memories of earlier in the day, along with thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking. He mentally shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? His mind hadn’t been clear since he met her.

Impatiently, he shoved more fabric aside, and had nearly reached the bottom of the trunk. Finally. He pulled a cotton dress from underneath layers of other material, and held it up. It was a pale yellow color with green and blue floral patterns, and he vaguely remembered one of his sisters wearing it at some point.

Kyle dug into the trunk once more, pulling out a few more dresses of various styles and colors, and found some white cotton material he assumed to be the same type of undergarment Kate wore. He clenched his jaw and groaned silently at that memory. The thin fabric hadn’t left much to the imagination, especially not when his hands had been all over her.

He grabbed the pile of clothes and threw them over his shoulder, then slammed the trunk shut, and pushed it back against the wall. Without a backwards glance, he closed the door to the room, and left the house. With long strides, he quickly covered the distance to his cabin.

Kyle had left her standing in his grandparents’ room. Her sympathetic hand on his arm had nearly undone any semblance of self-control he still possessed in her presence. He’d glanced at the photo on the dresser once more before leaving the room, and could have sworn he saw a look of satisfaction and approval on his grandparents’ faces.
Don’t be ridiculous, Kyle.

He opened the door to his cabin slowly. The hinges squeaked slightly. One glance around the room told him she wasn’t there. Had she gone outside? The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, so he headed in that direction. He pushed the door further open. The sensation of warm water flowing over him from head to toe hit him.

Katelyn lay curled up on her side in the center of his grandparents’ bed, sound asleep. She had her arms wrapped around a thick fur, holding it to her chest like a child would hold a stuffed animal, and her hair spilled over her shoulder and back.  Her knees were drawn up nearly to her torso.

Kyle stood and stared, wondering at her pose. In his mind, he crawled onto the bed next to her, and wrapped her in his arms, shielding her from whatever it was that had brought on such a need for self-protection. Her guardian came to mind again. He couldn’t think of any other person who could have possibly done her harm. What else had she endured in his care? He tore his eyes away from her, and slowly laid the bundle of clothing at the foot of the bed. She’d see them when she woke. He backed quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, he just stood there, pushing his hair out of his eyes, inhaling deeply, and staring at nothing in particular in the main room. What was he going to do with her? She couldn’t stay here indefinitely. For one thing, it wasn’t proper. He’d get an earful from Josh, he could hear it already. Deeply engrained in Shoshone custom, Josh would lecture him on the etiquette of sharing a home with a woman he wasn’t wed to.

Then there were his obligations to consider. He had to deliver three ponies to an outfitter in Virginia City in three weeks. After that, he was due in Helena. He’d been hired on by a railroad owner to take him through the region. He had expressed an interest in the land and it’s natural wonders. Kyle hoped it would generate public interest if the railroad got involved to set this land aside for preservation. It was something he’d discussed a year ago with Mr. Nathaniel Langford and Henry Washburn, after bringing them through here. He remembered sitting with them at their camp across the Madison along the Firehole River, when the idea of a national park was brought up. After witnessing for themselves the wonders and beauty of this area that Kyle had shown them, these men felt it would be important to preserve this area for the enjoyment of all people, not for private exploitation. Kyle had wholeheartedly agreed.

Katelyn couldn’t remain here. He would be away for a month at least, perhaps longer. The best thing to do would be to bring her to Virginia City, and have her stay with his parents. From there, she could contact family in Boston, and return home if she chose.

He strode to the wood box, and knelt at the hearth. Stacking up some kindling, he struck a flint against his hunting knife, creating sparks that caught on the dry tinder. Blowing air onto it, Kyle quickly had a fire going, feeding larger pieces of wood to the hungry flames. He pulled the heavy cast-iron kettle over the fire, then headed to the river with a wooden bucket. Kate hadn’t had a decent meal in days. He could prepare a stew, and bake some biscuits for when she woke.

Evening turned to night, and Katelyn was still asleep. Experiencing a restlessness he’d never felt before, Kyle paced the cabin, checking on her constantly. The venison stew he’d made sat cold in the kettle. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb her. She apparently needed the rest, and he found himself standing in a dark corner of the room, simply watching her sleep. Occasionally, she would stir, and she’d murmur incoherent words, then hug herself more tightly than before.

Kyle had just left the room, intent on eating some cold stew, when she cried out. He wheeled around as his heart skipped a beat.

“No, please…don’t.”

The panic in her voice tore at his heart. He sat at the edge of the bed, and lightly touched her arm. “Katelyn?” he whispered. “It’s okay. It’s only a dream.” He didn’t know what else to say, or how to comfort her.

Suddenly, she bolted upright, and shrank away from him, then scrambled to the other side of the bed, the fur she’d been holding clutched tightly to her chest. The cold fear in her eyes, illuminated only by the faint light seeping in from the other room left him momentarily speechless.

“Katelyn . . . sweetheart, it’s me,” he said softly. He didn’t move, knowing it would cause her to bolt. It was best to let a skittish filly come to him, rather than chase it down.

“Kyle?” she asked softly, a quiver in her voice.

“I’m right here,” he answered, reaching out a hand. Her ice-cold fingers wrapped around his hand, and she gripped with a strength he didn’t think she possessed. “Would you like me to light a lamp?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” came her soft response. She didn’t release her hold on him.

“Kate,” he chuckled softly, “you’re going to have to let go.” Her fingers loosened, and he pulled his hand back, then turned to the small table by the bed, lighting the lamp. His gaze fell back on her. She still sat with her legs drawn up under herself, clutching the fur as if it would protect her from something.

“Bad dream?” he asked slowly. The skin between her eyes furrowed, then she simply nodded, and averted her eyes.

Intent on lightening the mood, Kyle slapped his hand on his knee and stood, then smiled at her. “Well, since you’re finally awake, would you like something to eat? I’ll reheat supper.”

Her stomach answered for her, and he laughed. “I take that as a yes,” he said. Pointing to the other room, he added, “I’ll be out there. Come whenever you’re ready.”

He headed for the main room, and pulled the kettle back over the fire, adding some more wood to the dying flames. Her behavior disturbed him. The girl from last night, the one who didn’t hesitate to reach into a stranger’s britches when asked, was not the same girl in the other room. Perhaps the prospect of escaping from the Crow would have prompted her to do almost anything, he decided. Reaching for a couple of plates and forks, he set them on the table. When he looked up, she was standing under the doorframe, her eyes large and round.

“Supper’s almost hot,” he said. “Come and sit down.” The look in her eyes reminded him of the wonderment on a child’s face when they didn’t understand something. “I’ve been told my cooking’s not half bad, so you needn’t be afraid to try it.” He grinned.

She stepped into the room, and pulled out a chair before Kyle could maneuver around the table and do it for her. “I wasn’t worried about your cooking,” she said quietly.

“What then?” he asked, and turned to the hearth, pulling the lid off the Dutch oven in the fire. Using a fork, he stabbed into the biscuits to lift them out. He dropped them onto an extra plate, and returned with it to the table.

“I’m just not accustomed to a man doing the cooking and serving,” she said, meeting his eyes.

“Well, if you’d like to take over the chore from now on, that’ll be fine with me,” he smiled broadly. “I said my cooking wasn’t bad, I didn’t say I enjoyed doing it. But a man’s gotta eat.”

Katelyn dropped her gaze. “I . . . I don’t know how,” she said in a demure voice.

Kyle, you should have known. She’s probably never had to lift a finger her entire life. She’s probably had servants to do everything for her.

“But I’d gladly learn,” she added suddenly, her head popping back up. “If you’ll teach me.” The hopeful look in her eyes chiseled away at his heart.

“Sure. We’ll start tomorrow.”

She smiled brightly at him, and he grabbed hold of the edge of the table. The urge to pull her into his arms overwhelmed him.

“Those clothes . . . they belong to your sisters?” she asked tentatively, giving him the diversion he desperately needed at the moment. He cleared his throat, and reached for her plate. He turned back to the hearth, and ladled out some stew, which he set in front of her before answering.

“Yes. I found them in an old trunk. I figured you could use something else to wear. I know they’re not as fine as what you’re used to, but . . .” he let his words trail off. Katelyn’s large eyes watched his every move.

“Thank you,” she said simply. Kyle nodded, and brought his own plate of stew to the table. Sitting across from her, he reached for a biscuit, and motioned for her to do the same.”

They ate in silence, Katelyn commenting once that she liked the food. When they’d nearly finished, she sat up straighter suddenly, and asked, “Would it be much trouble to ask for a bath in the morning? I’ve gone nearly a week without.”

Kyle paused his fork in midair. “No trouble at all,” he said. “The river’s pretty warm actually.”

“River?”

He grinned. “I don’t have a bathtub, if that’s what you wanted,” he said. Her round eyes and half-open mouth told him that was exactly what she’d meant. His grin widened. “We always bathe in the river here, Katelyn. And don’t worry. There’s no one here to watch. I promise to stay away.”

She cleared her throat, and hastily swallowed a piece of biscuit. “Oh . . . well, okay. The river will be fine.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. Why the hell did she have to be so damn agreeable? It was as if she was afraid he would get angry if she said something he might not want to hear. He could tell she didn’t relish the thought of bathing in a river, but she complied without another word. Come to think of it, she’d been acting that way since he’d met her. With the small exception when he told her to unbutton her dress and when he’d cut her out of that corset thing, she’d put up no argument to anything he’d asked her to do. Even then, she’d submitted. He didn’t know of any female who didn’t like to argue and have things her own way. Mentally, he shook his head.

“Thank you for supper,” she said, washing down the last of her meal with a cup full of water. She left the table, carrying her dishes to the workbench. “I don’t know where to put these.” She turned a questioning eye on him.