“I am, a little.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He realized there was a sharp edge to his tone he hadn’t intended to put there.
“Oh, for pity’s sake. Tell me what’s eating you.”
“Nothing.” He shrugged as casually as he could. “Just that with all that dancing, you’re bound to be tired.”
When she slid him a questioning look, he realized his tone was still a little sharper than he’d intended.
“If you’re ready,” she said, “I’ll just say good evening to the major and his wife.”
“I’m ready.”
He watched her go. When she joined him again, the other men looked envious. He also saw what he could only describe as hunger in their expressions. He didn’t blame them. He’d reacted the same way to Cady at first. He’d managed to control his feelings. It was a damn good thing he’d been the one to escort her tonight. She had nothing to fear from him.
But then he remembered the violence that had flashed through his mind as he’d watched the men dance with her. Maybe it was him she should stay away from.
Outside her quarters, Cady pressed her back to one of the cottonwood poles holding up the ramada. A pleasant breeze sent the smell of mesquite and desert sand to her as it cooled her cheeks. She looked up at the night sky and sighed. The sight was breathtaking: stars twinkled brilliantly on a midnight-blue background.
Kane stood beside her, his arm nearly brushing her shoulder, so close she could feel the heat of his body. For half a second, the masculine scent of him pulled at her, urging her closer. She swayed toward him, then stopped herself. She’d made a fool of herself once over him. She wouldn’t again.
He didn’t seem inclined to leave, but she could feel the tension between them.
“You haven’t said a word since we left the reception. Is something bothering you, Kane?”
“No.” He pushed his campaign hat back, and she could see his face in the moonlight. His mouth tightened, and she knew he wasn’t being honest with her.
“Something’s wrong. Out with it, captain. That’s an order.”
He looked at her sharply. “Would you like to tell me about this literary society you’re planning?”
“You heard about that?” She was very excited about the way the men had received her idea. “I proposed the concept of reading books and meeting once a week to discuss them. All the people I met tonight were terribly enthusiastic.”
“Were these people all men?” His voice was thick with sarcasm.
His attitude confused her. What if they were men? “Men and women both were excited about the idea. I get the feeling that boredom can be a problem here. Everyone needs activities to keep busy. I expected the women to be receptive to the idea. But even the men seemed eager to read—or to learn to read if they can’t.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” His eyes were dark with intensity. “Those men would read dress patterns if it meant they could get close to you.”
“Fiddlesticks.”
“Cady.” He stared at the sky for a moment as if he was trying to control his temper. “They’re not looking to books to fix their discontent. They’re looking to you.”
“Well, I can help. I can read books and recommend ones I think they’d like. We can talk about them—”
“Cady, they don’t want books, they don’t want to read, and what they want to do doesn’t require discussion.”
She gasped and felt her cheeks burn. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you’re wrong. Why would any of them want me?”
He let out a long breath. “For one thing, you’re single. Not that it matters to some,” he muttered.
“I see.”
Cady wasn’t sure if she should feel flattered. Probably not. He made it sound like anything in skirts would turn a man’s head here.
“I don’t think you do.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re a beautiful woman.”
The compliment surprised her. She touched her eye. “This isn’t very attractive.”
“Doesn’t matter. Makes a man want to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. But that’s beside the point. I’m afraid I don’t see the problem.”
“Then I’ll spell it out for you. The literary society is a bad idea.”
“But why?”
“You’re going to have men swarming around, and you’re the only single female for miles. That’s trouble in my book.”
“I still don’t see why.”
“Then I’ll explain.”
Kane moved toward her, and she retreated until the adobe wall stopped her, the rough surface pulling at the material of her dress. He pressed close until their bodies touched from chest to thigh. She felt his warmth and breathed in the scent that was his alone. She felt his heart pounding, as rapid and wild as her own. Her knees felt soft as taffy left out in the sun.
“What are you doing, captain?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not all lessons are learned in the schoolroom.”
He placed his palms on the wall beside her shoulders, trapping her in his sweet prison. He lowered his mouth until their lips were barely an inch apart. His breath fanned her face.
“What would you do if one of the men wanted private tutoring?” he asked huskily. His breathing was ragged and uneven.
“I—I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“What if he kissed you like this?” He moved his mouth a fraction closer.
“Stop.” She pressed her palms flat to his chest and pushed firmly. She couldn’t let him go on. She wouldn’t be able to resist him if he did. Beneath her hands he was broad and muscled. She didn’t have the strength to keep him from what he wanted. But she had to try.
“What if I don’t?”
“You know I have brothers. They showed me what to do.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t make me prove I can.”
His body relaxed and she slipped beneath his forearm, away from him. With his arms still braced, he lowered his head, taking deep breaths as if trying to compose himself.
“Are you ordering me not to organize a literary society?”
He straightened and shifted uncomfortably. The danger she saw in his expression made her want to back away.
“No. But when it blows up in your face, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll think about what you said. But I know you’re wrong.” She was tired and confused. She wanted to be alone. “If you’ll excuse me, captain, I believe I’ll retire now. I’m getting up early to ride tomorrow.”
“Are you going by yourself?”
“Yes.” She saw disapproval flicker across his face.
“I still don’t like it.”
She had left home because all her life her father and brothers had been telling her what to do. Now Kane was doing the same thing, only worse. Not only was he ordering her around, he was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.
She straightened her shoulders. “I think it’s me you don’t like, captain. Why is that?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” She touched her still tender cheek and eye. “You think I’m incompetent in the classroom, don’t you?”
“Cady, I—”
“You think I’m not cut out to be a teacher, don’t you?” “I never said—”
“You think I don’t belong here, isn’t that—”
He took a half step toward her and put one finger over her lips. “May I talk now?”
Her heart raced, not from fear—well, maybe just a little. But mostly because she couldn’t think when he was this close.
“Are you ready to listen to what I have to say?” he asked.
She was still for a second and met his gaze, then nodded. He pulled his hand away from her mouth.
“Actually, I don’t need to hear what’s on your mind,” she said. “You’ve made it pretty cle
ar that you think I don’t belong here.”
“It’s not you, Cady. No woman does.”
“That’s not your decision to make. Miss Biddle says—”
His hazel eyes flashed with anger. “Dammit, don’t quote your spinster teacher to me. She has no idea what it’s like out here in the Territory.”
“How do you know?”
“I know. She sits in her comfortable parlor drinking tea and filling young women’s heads with pretty dreams and romantic notions that are nowhere near the truth. She fires them up and sends them west, completely unprepared for what life is really like.”
“So tell me what it’s really like.”
“Dangerous.” His gaze lowered to her mouth, then he looked past her to the parade ground. “If the snakes, scorpions, and poisonous spiders don’t get you, the ants and the unbearable heat can make you wish they had. If that doesn’t drive you crazy or kill you, the Indians will.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
“Am I?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Women are a liability out here.” He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “You need comforts and conversation with other women. The army discourages men from bringing their families along. When they do come, there’s no such thing as putting down roots. Soldiers move constantly from fort to fort.”
“Don’t you see, Kane? That’s why I want to start the literary society.”
“To settle the frontier?” he asked dryly.
“To bring some culture—”
“It won’t work. We can’t offer you the niceties you had back east.”
“Just what do you think I did?”
“Chamber music. Landscape painting,” he said.
“I can’t believe what a dreadful opinion you have of me.” She put her hands on her hips.
“You’re too damned naive for your own good. Don’t you realize half the men on this post can’t even read?” A muscle in his cheek contracted as if something had suddenly made him even angrier.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said softly.
“You did make it clear it wasn’t because of me.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“I’ve come to teach, believe it or not, like it or not. The frontier is where I’m needed most.”
“This land will break you. Arizona’s not for amateurs.”
She glared at him. “What makes you think you know what will or will not break me?” “I’ve seen it happen.”
The raw emotion in his tone caught her attention, and her anger evaporated. She recognized his pain and sensed that he was going to tell her what had caused it.
With a deceptively casual movement, she leaned back against the pole bracing the overhang. Every part of her tensed, every sense sharpened.
“Tell me, Kane. Who did you see broken?”
“I knew a woman once, born and raised out here. She married a soldier, and when he was away for weeks at a time on patrol, she turned to another man for … what she needed.” He stopped and laughed, a sound so full of bitterness it chilled her in spite of the warm breeze.
She almost didn’t want to know, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Who was this woman?”
“My wife.”
5
“Your wife?” Cady stood upright, at attention, away from the cottonwood pole.
Kane heard the astonishment in her voice. He’d intended to shock her, but now he took no pleasure in it.
“Yes.”
“And she was … unfaithful? How can you be so calm about it?” Her small body seemed to vibrate with outrage.
“It’s ancient history. Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Well, it should.” Her righteous anger surprised him. “That was a despicable thing to do.”
“Let it go, Cady.” The woman had paid a high price for her sins. “Army life, my life, drove her to it. What happened to her was my fault.”
“Fiddlesticks. It’s a hard life, I’m learning well enough, but that’s no reason to turn to another man. Not when she had you—” She stopped suddenly and turned her back to him. The line of her shoulders went rigid.
“Don’t pity me, Cady.”
“I don’t. It’s just that the woman obviously had no sense.” She shook her head. “And you call me a fool.”
At first he couldn’t believe that she’d take his part. Then he realized that no matter what she said about this being a hard life, she still had stars in her eyes where the reality of the frontier was concerned. Time would show her how hard it was to carve out an existence in this godforsaken land. Then she would leave like Annie.
If only he didn’t feel such gut-churning temptation for Cady. She’d rekindled the ache she’d created the first time he saw her, only now it was even stronger.
“You are a fool if you think you can make a difference out here,” he said, deliberately cruel.
She whirled and stared up at him. “I get the feeling, captain, that you’re hoping I’ll fail. Is that why you brought Reynolds to school the first day and then stayed? Were you hoping I’d fall on my face?”
“I stayed because I know R. J.’s temper. I had a suspicion there would be trouble.”
“How does it feel to be right?” she asked. An edge of irritation cut her voice.
It was partly true that he’d been watching to see if she could stand up to R. J. Was he hoping she’d fail? Maybe.
In the shadows, he couldn’t make out the bruises around her injured eye, he could only see how beautiful she was, standing there in the moonlight. His gaze dropped to her mouth and her full lips. If he didn’t know their touch and texture from a long-ago memory that still haunted him, maybe he wouldn’t be tempted. But, God help him, he was tempted.
Pressure built inside him, and he looked up at the sky until he could regain control. The stars twinkled and glittered gaily, just like Cady. Tonight at the reception she had sparkled until every man in that room had been dazzled.
Including himself.
He didn’t want other men looking at her. The primitive feelings shook him; he would bloody the first man who even made a move to do the things to her that he was thinking about. He wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her. He wanted to know if she tasted as sweet and innocent as she had two years ago.
He folded his arms over his chest. “I take no satisfaction in being right about the fight.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. The parents I met this evening didn’t seem to care. They were genuinely happy that I’m here. And they all knew what had happened. Apparently they don’t doubt my abilities the way you do.” She stepped around him and opened her door. “Nothing you can say or do will sway me, captain. I’m staying. That’s final.”
She went inside, slamming the door shut.
He stared long after the door stopped vibrating, then smiled. He never knew what to expect from her. “Good night, Cady,” he whispered.
He should have been relieved that she’d slammed the door in his face. Half a minute more and he would have kissed her senseless. Her spirit and fire made her even more beautiful than that night at Fort Mohave when she’d been dressed like a princess in the green satin dress that matched her eyes.
He stepped out from under the ramada and crossed the plank over the acequia on his way to the enlisted men’s quarters. He was hot and tired and irritable. He hoped like hell no one got in his way.
It would be another uneasy night for him, just like all the others since Cady Tanner had turned up. What had he done to deserve this? To have her this close and know he didn’t dare touch her. He thought of Annie. Maybe he’d done something after all.
Cady was his hell to pay.
He resigned himself to many more sleepless nights, until she gave in to the inevitable and went back where she belonged.
The morning after the reception, Cady reined her horse in at the top of a rise. She looked around quickly and, in the distance, spotted the fort. Good. It was bar
ely in sight, she couldn’t make out the sentries around the perimeter, but she knew they were there, alert, watching, holding their rifles.
She had taken the major’s warning to heart but couldn’t resist giving her restless mount his head. When she’d felt him tiring, she’d turned back the way she’d come, relieved to see the fort soon and know she hadn’t gone too far.
She was in high spirits this morning. The wind in her face and the smell of mesquite and sage exhilarated her. Above her, a cactus wren flew and jabbered. She knew how he felt, understood his sense of liberation. She felt free and alive.
She settled her big black hat more securely over her hair and pushed the floppy brim up so she could see where she was going. As her horse walked slowly toward the fort, she thought about her conversation with Kane the night before. It had upset her, at first, because he was trying to get rid of her. Then she’d realized that he did want her gone, but not for the reason she’d thought. After learning of his unfortunate marriage, she thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with a woman ever again. That’s when it hit her, like a lightning bolt.
He wanted her to leave because he liked her!
If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have bothered to tell her to go back to where she came from. He wouldn’t bother with her at all. And he wouldn’t care whether she stayed or not.
In some way, she mattered to him.
That made all the difference. The next time she saw him she planned to test her theory, though she wasn’t quite sure how. But he didn’t hate her. The knowledge of that made her smile.
For the last two years, whenever she remembered the way she’d thrown herself at him, she wanted to crawl in a hole. She’d been childish and impulsive. If he’d called her a fool then, she would agree with him. Now he called her foolhardy for wanting to make a difference. That’s where he was wrong, and someday she’d make him admit it.
But that wasn’t the part of their talk that had kept her awake. It was what he’d said just before calling her a fool.
She patted her horse’s neck with a gloved hand. “Is he still married, Prince? I never asked him. If he is, where is his wife?”
He hadn’t said what happened to her. He had turned the conversation away from himself and told Cady she was wasting her time here in Arizona. That had goaded her into anger, and she had stalked inside without knowing what had become of his wife. As far as Cady knew, he might still be married to the disloyal little tart.
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