Ned shook his head. Rhodes stared, jaw set, and his hand twitching above his holstered Colt.45. The youngster was looking for an excuse.
The hired men let him pass. Feeling Willmans malice on his back like cannon fire, Dillon loaded his packs in the sleigh. His mustangs waited patiently in the wind shadow of the stable.
There was one more thing to do. Not even the hard fall of snow dared to impede him as he headed straight to the main house. He didnt knock. He didnt figure he needed to ask permission to take what was now his. He ignored the spoiled Mrs. Willman seated at the dining room table, fussing over her clothes for some fool womens meeting in town by the sound of it, and marched down the hall.
He rapped on her door and pushed it open.
The room was perfect. The fancy sleigh bed made up in satin counterpane and those fancy matching pillows. A rug and curtains to match. Little breakable knickknacks crowded across the carved bureau and the little dressing stand.
His gaze flew to the open wardrobe in the corner, where every peg was bare.
The room was perfect. The fancy sleigh bed made up in satin counterpane and those fancy matching pillows. A rug and curtains to match. Little breakable knickknacks crowded across the carved bureau and the little dressing stand.
His gaze flew to the open wardrobe in the corner, where every peg was bare.
Katelyn was gone.
By the time Dillon had gone a half mile, the storm had turned treacherous. Good thing he was a damn good tracker. Hed been taught by his great-grand-father, once a Nez Percé warrior, who hunted in the old way. The snow was fast falling, but hed found a trail.
Yep, he was getting closer. She had to be just up ahead. He brushed the new snow from the faint imprint of a womans shoe. Katelyns shoe. He imagined the foot that had made the impression. He thought about the woman as he grazed his gloved fingertip over the curve of instep.
He only had to think of her and softness eased into his chest. It was a strange, expanding sensation behind his breastbone.
It looked as if she was staying close to the fence lines, which pretty much followed the road to town, so shed be easy to find. The wind kicked hard, making the storm nearly a whiteout. At least she was smart enough to find her way. Plenty of folks got lost in these storms and wandered out onto the vast prairie to freeze to death. The wind gusted and drove through his layers of wool and flannel. Hell wouldnt be this cold if it froze over.
Teeth gritted, gloved hands tucked into his armpits to keep them from freezing. The sleighs runners squeaked on the snow, and the clomp of the horses steel shoes were the only other sounds.
Why was he going after her like this? She could be safe in town by now, sipping hot tea in front of a fire at the towns fanciest hotel.
Shes mine. Thats why. Shed been hurt, he understood that. Hell, wounded hearts was his business. Every horse hed ever worked with had a damn good reason not to trust men. Remembering the pain in her eyes last night, he knew Katelyn had been more than hurt. Shed been betrayed and abandoned and cast aside.
Hed worked with horses like that, too.
Wait-was that her? He caught the hint of a shadow in the cascading snow.
Katelyn! He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed so she could hear him above the storm.
She was merely a part of the snow and wind, a brief curve of shoulder before the curtain of white swallowed her then teased him with another glimpse of wool cloak. Head bent, stumbling in the drifts, she had to be half-frozen. That fancy coat she wore couldnt keep her very warm.
Katelyn, he said again, but the jealous wind stole his words away. She looked so cold. He took her arm and gestured back the way they came.
The curtain of snow dropped again, snatching her from his sight. Swiping snow from his eyes, he swore. This was foolish. They couldnt even speak, the blizzard was bad and getting worse. Why was she out here anyway? Did she think so little of him?
Hell, he wouldnt force any woman to marry him. He was quaking now, frozen clear to the bone marrow, and getting a tad irritable.
He grabbed the soft curve of her upper arm, meaning to show her he intended to take her back to the house, but the moment his fingers curled around her, the storm ceased. The winds silenced. The snow disappeared. The beat of his heart slowed to an eternity as, miraculously, her mittened hand fisted in his jacket.
He felt her question before she yanked her scarf from around her mouth with her other hand and shouted.
He shook his head. He couldnt hear her. He said the only word that counted. Home.
The fist at his jacket twisted the material more tightly. He could feel her desperation. And it tore at him. Too cold.
No. As firm as the earth at his feet, that word.
Was she so desperate to escape him? The fight went out of him. He unclasped her hand from his jacket and cradled it in both of his.
town he heard her say as the wind fractured and beat between them. Please?
God, she was killing him. But he swallowed the pain, pushed aside the wound of her rejection. If only she hadnt said please like that, with so much naked grief and need that not even the storm could lessen it. Tenderness seeded in his chest, a thin growing warmth that left him helpless.
Tears were freezing on her exposed cheeks when he took the end of her scarf and gently tucked it back into place around her mouth and nose. He swiped at the tears, rubbing them before they burned her delicate skin.
His eyes had adjusted to the whiteout conditions and he could distinguish the almond shape of her eyes, visible between the scarf and the woolen cap she wore over her head. He felt the unspoken plea as if shed whispered it to his soul.
Cmon. He held her arm tight, shielding her from the brunt of the wind with his body the best he could, and led her to the waiting mare. He placed her hand on the animals warm flank and leaned close to her ear. The ice-flecked wool scratched at his jaw. Can you ride?
I wont go back. I wont. She was as fierce as the wind.
Fine. Let me help you.
I dont need help.
Yes, you do.
Katelyn didnt want him, but could she trust him? Struggling through the snowdrifts and fighting to keep her sense of direction in the confusing swirl of snow and wind was more difficult than shed imagined.
Youll truly help me? she asked, daring to lean close to speak against his ear. You wont trick me?
Im not that kind of man.
She didnt know what manner of man he was. But she needed help. She could follow the fence line only so far. Could she find the road to town? Every landmark was shrouded in snow and the storm was impenetrable.
She couldnt see the horseman, as close to her as he was, although apparently he could see her as his hand found her elbow and steadied her.
He was offering to help her into his sleigh. She couldnt see the vehicle-sudden pain slammed into her knee-the sleigh. Awkward with exhaustion and cold, she lifted one foot while Hennessey held her steady. She slipped into the seat with a grateful sigh.
Snow pummeled her face like a thousand icy shards driven on a violent wind, but the horseman shielded her with a bundle of blankets. She caught a brief glimpse of him, hat and profile, and the storm closed around her, draping him from her sight. She felt alone in a vast, cold world. Every inch of her ached from the cold. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering.
Then he was climbing in beside her. She felt the iron of his thigh and the hard bone of his elbow as he gathered the reins.
She belonged to him now. She could feel it. She didnt have to turn around to see there were no prized Arabian mares tied to the back of the sleigh. She didnt need to ask if hed accepted the diamonds and gold as payment. Hed taken her.
Miserable from the cold, hurting from the inside out, she felt hopeless. What would her future hold?
But no shelter from the storm rose out of the night. Only the endless howling of the blizzard and the beat of wind-driven snow against her back. Time stretched forever, an eternity of enduring the ice creeping from skin to muscle to bone.
Exhaustion settled in like a heavy steel weight in her midsection, dragging her down. She was too tired to worry about what would happen next. Tucked safe against the horseman, her eyes drifted shut and the welcoming darkness claimed her.
Chapter Seven
Dillon watched her thick curling eyelashes drift shut. Katelyns breathing relaxed into a quiet cadence. Her fingers slackened on the edge of the robe.
Dillon watched her thick curling eyelashes drift shut. Katelyns breathing relaxed into a quiet cadence. Her fingers slackened on the edge of the robe.
Asleep, she didnt look wounded or wary. She was an angel, the worry and pain gone from her face. Its all right, darlin, Im going to take good care of you. It was a promise he meant to keep.
He nosed the team of horses into the storm. The winds had waned and the snow was less heavy, but it was hazardous traveling like this with nothing but the wide, lonesome prairie to keep him company. With any luck hed be coming across town by nightfall. His house wasnt far from his hometown of Bluebonnet, so that meant he could be sleeping at home tonight.
Home. Maybe it would be with Katelyn there. Maybe, when she saw the place, shed want to stay. He had horses there, and a brother he was missing something fierce. In all, maybe he finally had a reason to stay put.
And he was looking at her. She stirred in her sleep, making the softest sound. It moved through him like poetry, the feel of her warmth next to him, the lean curve of her thigh, the line of her arm, the dearness of her cheek as she shifted, her head rolling into place against his shoulder.
Tenderness took root in his heart. He took his time simply watching her. Listening to the sweet rhythm of her breathing. Memorizing the dip in the center of her lush upper lip. Wondering what her kiss would be like. Rose-petal soft, he wagered.
Would she be his? It was a risk to think she would be. Shed made her feelings about him pretty clear. But a woman in her condition, and alone with no one to help her, might need a friend. Or a place to call home.
Anything was possible, wasnt it?
That meant it was his job to protect her. To take care of her. He was a man who took his job seriously. Concerned about her, he yanked off his glove and carefully slipped his fingers beneath the icy glove on her closest hand.