Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (41 page)

 ”I brought supper fixin’s, miss? Ma’am?” Josh said politely, facing Kate, apparently unsure how to address her. Kyle watched her closely. She hadn’t relaxed her stiff posture, and her eyes went wide, and darted quickly to the heap of fur on the table, then back to Josh.

Kyle walked up beside her. “Katelyn, this is my cousin, Josh Running Wolf Osborne.” Turning to Josh, he said. “The lady you scared half to death is
Miss
Katelyn Devon.”

Kate held a tentative hand out to Josh, who remained standing by the table, making no move to shake it.

“I apologize for scaring you earlier, and for my rude behavior.” He bowed his head briefly, casting a glance at Kyle, with an
are you satisfied now
look.

Kate withdrew her hand, and nodded slightly, apparently accepting the apology.

“Well, I guess I got some things to take care of.” Josh shot Kyle another meaningful look before he turned to leave the cabin. “Those rabbits would make a nice stew for supper, Miss Devon,” he called over his shoulder. She stared after him, her eyes growing wide again. Kyle could almost hear her thoughts. She had no idea how to cook a rabbit stew. He placed a hand on her arm.

“He’s really quite harmless,” he said, smiling down at her. Adrenaline flooded his veins. Kate’s large doe eyes looked up at him. She licked her lips, and he had the overwhelming urge to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her. He swallowed, and rubbed her arm instead.

“Your cousin is an Indian?” she asked slowly.

“Half Indian. His father is my mother’s brother, my Uncle Samuel. Josh’s mother was Shoshone.”

“Was?”

“She died about eighteen or so years ago, when Josh was barely two years old.”

“What happened to her?” Kate asked softly.

Kyle studied her face, unsure how much to tell her. He opted for the truth. “She was . . . brutally violated by three white men, then left to die in the woods.” Kate inhaled sharply, her hand covering her mouth.

“That’s horrible,” she gasped.

“It took my uncle a long time to recover from the loss, and guilt that he couldn’t get to her in time. She was alone with little Josh, and she must have thrown him into some bushes, or those men probably would have killed him, too.”

“Did the men get caught?”

“Oh, yeah. My uncle and father went after them.” Kyle had been only six years old at the time, but he vaguely remembered his uncle arguing with his father that he needed to go after the men alone before finally relenting.

“Did they go to jail for their crimes?” Kate’s soft voice interrupted his fleeting memory.

Kyle stared at her intently. She was such an innocent. “There is no law out here, Katelyn. A man has to take matters into his own hands.” He stepped away from her, running his hands through his hair.

“What . . . what happened to the men?”

“They got what they deserved,” Kyle answered, his jaw clenched.

“You mean your uncle killed them?” Her eyes went wide again.

“If anyone laid a hand on my wife, I would do the same.” He glared at her intently.

Kate wheeled around, turning her back to him. She wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Hey.” He came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened under his touch.  “Maybe it’s best to change the subject,” he whispered. He raised one hand to stroke the back of her head, running his fingers through her damp hair, inhaling the fragrant scent of the soap he’d given her. His other hand kneaded her shoulder. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep from touching her.  Her tense muscles softened under his touch, and he stepped closer, until his chest was almost flush with her back.

 ”Kyle . . . please . . . don’t,” she quivered, and tried to step away from him.

He held her shoulder, and turned her to face him.  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He couldn’t read the message in those blue pools. A mixture of fear and longing. Did she feel what he did?

“Katelyn,” he whispered hoarsely. He wanted to kiss her, but her wide eyes stopped him. Abruptly, he let go of her, and stepped away.

Silently, the tears in her eyes spilled over, and ran down her cheeks. She darted around him, and dashed for her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn.” He cursed under his breath. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Kyle stared at the closed door.

Chapter 9

Kate threw herself across the soft furs of the bed, not caring about the pain this caused to her side. She buried her head in the covers, and allowed herself to cry. For six months, she had accepted her fate, had done her duty to her family, as her mother would tell her. A week ago, she’d been offered the opportunity to escape.

His business meeting with his investors hadn’t gone well, and he’d come to her bedchamber drunk, demanding his husbandly rights.  When he’d been unable to perform the act, he’d gotten enraged and began beating her. He always made sure he hit only where her clothing would cover up the bruises. Somehow she’d managed to get away from him after he slammed her into the bedpost, and she’d run from the room. To her amazement, he hadn’t followed.

Kate remembered slipping into an empty chamber down the hall of the vast home they occupied while in Helena. She’d cowered in a dark corner for hours, naked and shivering. Her lady’s maid had found her. Eliza had been the closest she had to a friend. She’d been with her for almost a year, and Kate didn’t know how she could have endured her life without the older woman’s presence.

As a servant, there was only so much Eliza could do for her. She took care of Kate’s injuries as they happened. Although the maid never commented on how she’d gotten all those bruises over the months, she had to know what her husband did to her behind closed doors.

“Your husband is passed out in your rooms, Mrs. Devereaux,” she’d said in a hushed, urgent voice. “I’ve prepared some clothing for you. If we hurry, you can be gone from here before he wakes.” Eliza had wrapped a blanket around Kate’s shivering body, and pulled her from the corner.

“You found someone?” Kate had asked hopefully. Weeks ago, she’d begged Eliza to ask around the town if anyone would be willing to guide a woman out of the territory.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s a gold prospector, and knows the territory. He’s willing to take you somewhere safe, but for a price.”

“Thank you, Eliza.” Kate had grabbed the woman’s hands, and hugged them to her chest.

 ”It is my pleasure. I can’t stand and watch the way he abuses you, Miss Kate. It’s bad enough that . . .” She hadn’t finished her sentence, and only shook her head.

“He’ll come after me,” Kate had said. Leaving seemed her only recourse. The abuse was relentless, and she had no doubt that one day he would kill her.

“Your husband won’t be able to find you,” Eliza had assured her.

Kate had hesitated, filled with second thoughts. Perhaps she could go back to Boston. But if he found her, he might truly kill her.
At least your troubles will be over then, Kate
.

“How much payment will this man require? The only thing of value I have is my wedding ring. But I believe it is worth a lot of money.” Kate touched her gold band on her left ring finger.

“Katelyn.”

A soft knock on the bedroom door, and Kyle’s muffled voice from the other side jolted Kate back to the present. She hastily wiped at her eyes, and pushed herself off the blankets to a sitting position.

“Just . . . just a minute,” she called, her voice cracking.

Kyle. He was as different from her husband as night was from the day. He was gentle and kind, strong and thoughtful. After all she’d had to endure at the hands of her husband, she never expected to have warm feelings for a man, ever. Any fanciful notions of love or desire had died on her wedding day, and were reconfirmed repeatedly over the ensuing six months.

Kyle made her feel things, awakened sensations in her that were both frightening and exhilarating. His touch was tender, and she wanted to lose herself in his embrace, and just once know the love of a man.

Love? Kyle couldn’t possibly love her. They had only known each other for two days. He protected her, called her pretty, and treated her with kindness and respect. But love her. It was inconceivable.
You’re a married woman, Kate. You were wed in the church.  No matter how badly he treats you, you can’t covet another man.
She owed Kyle the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. He would take her back to Helena.

Another knock on the door prompted her to get up from the bed.

“Katelyn, please, open the door.”

Kate smoothed the front of her dress, and wiped her eyes. She straightened herself, and went to the door, opening it slowly. Kyle leaned against the doorframe, and her heart skipped a beat. His easy smile warmed her like a ray of sunshine on a cold day.

“Are you ready for your first cooking lesson?” he asked. “Josh expects biscuits and rabbit stew for supper, remember?”

She’d forgotten all about asking him to teach her to cook. Her past haunted her, as did the guilt that weighed heavily on her mind for her lies and deception. Kate raised her chin. The last few days, even while terrifying in their own way, had opened her eyes to a completely different, new world. And she liked it. The sheer beauty of the mountains, the freedom to forget convention, and this man in front of her, who treated her with kindness, she enjoyed it all.

She forced herself to smile up at him. “I am ready for my first lesson, Mr..?” She didn’t know Kyle’s last name, she realized suddenly. “Osborne?” she ventured.

His grin melted her heart. “Kyle Russell, at your service, miss.” He stepped aside, and motioned for her to move out of the room ahead of him.

What would it hurt to pretend for a while? To feel what it was like living without the constant threat of a beating, or the cruel abuse of her body.  Soon, she would have to figure out what to do. Kyle said he would take her to a town called Virginia City. But for a short time, she wanted to forget her past, who she was, and simply enjoy life. For now, she was Miss Katelyn Devon, a name that had slipped out in haste when Kyle had asked for her surname, not Mrs. Kate Ellen Devereaux.  If her husband found her, and she had no doubt that someday he would, at least she’d have these memories to sustain her.

Kate walked into the main room, and glanced over her shoulder. He was right behind her, and her pulse increased.

“What do we do first?” she asked, trying to sound confident.

“Biscuit dough,” he said, and pointed to the workbench. “But before we start, I have this for you.” Kate turned around, and he held out a hairbrush.  When she reached for it, he said, “Let me,” in that low tone that made her swallow nervously.
You can do this, Kate. There’s no harm in enjoying a man’s company.
She’d seen plenty of married women in polite society socialize and interact with men who were not their husbands.

“My mother and sisters braid their hair when they work,” he explained. He stepped around her and ran the brush through her locks, gently untangling the snarls and snags. Kate leaned her head back and closed her eyes, her body wrapped in the most wonderful warm sensations. He parted her hair into three strands, and braided it down her back, then tied the ends with a strip of leather.

“There, now you’re ready to make biscuits,” he said. Kate faced him again, staring into his brown eyes that had darkened considerably.

“Thank you.” She blinked, and stumbled to the workbench. He came up beside her and reached for a large tin jar along the wall. Opening the lid, he dumped flour on the workbench surface in front of her, sending up a cloud of white dust.

“Use your hands and scrape it all together into a pile,” he instructed. Kate tentatively touched the flour. It felt soft and velvety. She pushed it together into a heap, then glanced up at Kyle. He had another tin open, and sprinkled some white powder over the flour.

“Baking soda,” he said. “It’s what makes the biscuits fluffy. Go ahead and add a pinch of salt.” He pointed at another jar. Kate opened the lid. How much was a pinch? She stuck her thumb and forefinger into the jar, and produced a few grains.

“A bit more than that,” Kyle suggested. “About what would fit into a teaspoon.” Kate scooped her fingers into the salt, then drizzled it over the flour. Her hand trembled slightly. What if she was doing it wrong? Would he get angry for wasting food if she ruined the dough?

“Now run your fingers through it to mix it all up,” Kyle said patiently. She dipped her fingers back in the flour and swirled them around, and gave him a questioning look. He smiled and nodded.

“You’re doing great,” he said. She smiled back at him. He was so patient with her, she wanted to cry.

“What’s next?” she asked eagerly.

“A spoonful of lard, and then a cup of water. Getting the right consistency is the trick to good biscuits.”

“Maybe you’d better do that. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

“Oh no.” He grinned, and shook his head. “The only way to learn properly is by doing it yourself.”

“What if I do it wrong? What if I ruin everything?”

“It’s okay to make mistakes, Katelyn.” Kyle’s brows furrowed. “No one can be perfect, and certainly not the first time. Hell, I burn them most of the time.”

That’s not what she’d been taught. Perfection in everything was expected. Nothing less would suffice. Kate stared up into his warm eyes, and couldn’t look away. He might not think perfection was required, but at this moment, she could find not one fault with this man. The feelings coursing through her overwhelmed her, and her face flushed. She reached up to cool her cheeks with her hands.

Kyle laughed when she set her hands down in the flour again.

“What is so funny?” she asked.

“Your face,” he said.

Her hand shot up to touch her face again, and in her haste, flour swirled through the air, some landing on the front of her dress.

“You have a white handprint on your cheek now,” he said with a wide grin. “Here, you need a matching one on the other side.” Before she realized his intent, he stuck his hand in the flour, and pressed it against her right cheek.

“Now it’s even,” he said, leaning back to study her face. He held his fingers to his chin and his eyebrows furrowed as if deep in thought. “Hmm, something’s still not right.”

“Wha…what do you mean?” Kate’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Something’s missing.” Kyle dipped his hand in the flour once more, and swiped his fingers down her nose and across her forehead.

“Oh! What are you doing?” she shrieked. “I’m surely covered in flour now.”

“Yep,” he laughed.

He was joking with her. And here she’d thought there was something wrong with her appearance. Kate eyed the pile of flour. Impulsively, she buried both hands in it, then quickly pressed her palms to his whiskered cheeks. Immediately, she flinched back, and her hand shot to her mouth.

“I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” She took several steps backwards. Would he strike her now for her behavior?

Kyle looked stunned for a moment, then his face lit up in a purely devilish grin. “You catch on real fast, Miss Devon,” he said in a low tone, and before she knew it, a dusting of flour covered her front, and surely more was on her face. Kyle had actually picked up a handful and tossed it at her! She reached over and did the same to him. He laughed, and it was so infectious, she quickly joined him. Soon, they were both covered in thick white layers of flour. The air around them was cloudy with white particles, and she sneezed.

Kate was about to reach for more, when his hands snaked out and grabbed her wrists. It wasn’t in the cruel way her husband had always grabbed her. Kyle’s hands, while securely around her wrists, didn’t bite into her flesh and cause pain. He pulled her toward him, and her heart skipped a beat. Her smile froze on her face.

The cabin door slammed shut with a loud thud at that precise moment. “I guess this means I’m not getting biscuits for supper tonight, or is this a new method of baking I’m not familiar with?”

Kate gasped at the he loud voice of Kyle’s cousin. Neither she nor Kyle had heard him enter the cabin. Kyle released her, and stepped away, a scowl on his face. Kate spun around to turn her back in shame. Oh, dear God, what had she done? She’d been caught up in the moment, and acted worse than an insolent little child.