To Claim a Wife

by Susan Fox

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CAITLIN slept late that next morning. She removed the cast briefly to shower and wash her hair. By the time she got dressed and started downstairs, she was already tiring.

  The frustration of it made her restless. She got to the kitchen just before 9:00 a.m. and Mary greeted her pleasantly. Caitlin was grateful to be able to eat breakfast alone. After that kiss, she dreaded seeing Reno again, though she was resigned to it. After discovering how easily she tired, common sense warned that she shouldn’t rush away from the Broken B until she was stronger. It was difficult to accept, but she was forced to make peace with the idea.

  Morning in the big house was quiet. Air-conditioning made the bright sunshine that streamed in the windows feel comfortable. The sound of Mary rattling silverware and dishes made her think of the days before Jess had hired indoor help, the days when her mother cooked all the meals, did all the baking, kept the house immaculate, yet made time for her small daughter.

  After all the heartache she’d known here, there was something about being alone in the big house that comforted her, something that reminded her so strongly of her mother and those early times when she’d felt loved, that the thought of leaving forever suddenly made her feel sad. She hadn’t felt this way a few days ago when the house had seemed large and empty and lonely.

  Something had changed in her, something small but significant. How much it had to do with Reno changing his mind about her—and what had happened between them last night—was a question she was afraid to answer.

  Instead, she wondered how many of these sentimental feelings were due to these sudden memories of her mother. Though she couldn’t clearly picture her face, she remembered the strong sense of her mother’s love, the warm feeling of security.

  Unfortunately, the only real security she’d felt since her mother had been in Reno’s arms last night. The realization sent a fresh tingle of anxiety through her. She’d made up her mind not to need anyone, to live out the rest of her life keeping everyone at a distance.

  But Reno had kissed her and made mincemeat of her resolve. She’d thought she was too frigid for a single kiss to have that kind of effect on her, but he’d proved her wrong. Why was it that the only man who’d actually managed to arouse her was the man who was the most potentially lethal to her?

  Or was the reason for her frigid sexuality the fact that she’d always known that Reno was the only man for her? It was a fact that any man she’d ever dated stood in the shade of Reno’s strong personality and physical appeal. If that was true, she was in deep trouble.

  You’ll learn to trust me, he’d said. Though her will declared she never would, her heart had trembled with the longing to do just that. The torment of the two reactions kept her unsettled and vulnerable.

  By the time she finished breakfast and got up to sit in the shade on the patio, she was tired again. Frustration made her grab her cane and hat and walk through the house to the front door instead. Cast or not, she’d walk a ways up the long driveway. She needed to rebuild her strength and do something about this troubling lack of stamina. If she pushed herself, she’d get stronger.

  when she got stronger, she could leave. As she stepped out into the hot sunshine and tugged her hat down to shade her face, she felt the poignant ache of leaving her mother’s house forever.

  Oh, God, what was wrong with her? Why was everything suddenly so intensely emotional and painfully sentimental? As she stepped carefully off the big verandah onto the walk, she realized that her injuries might be the cause. She wasn’t feeling well, and the pressure and upheaval of everything that had happened was bound to upset her.

  She tried to ignore the reminder that she’d struggled with her emotions since she’d come back to Texas and that she hadn’t been doing very well with them even before she’d been injured in the fire.

  Reno was riding in from the big pasture west of the headquarters when he caught sight of someone walking up the ranch drive in the direction of the highway. He recognized Caitlin immediately and felt a rush of anger. Even at a distance, he could tell she was exhausted. Her steps seemed to shorten with each one she took. Likely, she’d pushed herself too far and was just starting to realize it. The moment he saw her stop and turn carefully to walk back, he rode his horse to the nearest gate.

  Once he was through and the gate was secure, he galloped the sorrel through the ranch yard and onto the grassy shoulder of the graveled drive. She’d stopped walking by the time he reached her and his horse slid to a halt.

  “What in hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He saw the faint spasm of hurt in her eyes and instantly regretted his harshness. He urged the sorrel close and leaned down to hold his hand out to her. “Come on up,” he said, his voice gruff. “You can ride easier than you can walk.”

  Caitlin’s tired gaze dropped from his to the big hand he held out to her. She’d walked too far and now the stretch of driveway between where she stood and the house seemed miles long. She was nauseous and her head was pounding. She couldn’t seem to make a right choice about anything, and this new choice seemed rife with emotional consequences.

  “Give me your hand, Caitlin.”

  The quiet order was more a request than a demand, and that surprised her. Her weary gaze must have signaled her surprise because the hard line of his mouth gentled into a faint curve.

  He gave the reins one quick wrap around the saddle horn, then leaned toward her. Instead of taking her hand, he caught her waist and lifted her to sit across his lap. Finding herself back in the same position as the night before made her feel wary and self-conscious.

  “Relax,” he growled. “Too many people around for me to try much.” He turned his horse, and walked him slowly back to the house, but instead of setting her down at the end of the walk, he rode the sorrel across the grass to the verandah steps.

  He set her on the wood floor, then straightened. His eyes moved over her grimly. For an instant, she thought he’d say something about her walk. She sensed his disapproval and frustration, but in the end, he said nothing. He reached up and touched his hat brim in a silent gesture of respect, then turned the sorrel and rode off.

  Caitlin watched him go, her emotions in an uproar over the short ride and the thrill of being in Reno’s arms.

  When Reno went to the house for lunch, he found Caitlin in the living room, asleep in the recliner. He didn’t wake her. He ate in the kitchen then checked her again before he left the house. Mary would keep lunch until she was ready to eat, and she’d promised to keep an eye on Caitlin. He’d feel better with a trained nurse in the house, but Caitlin had made her thoughts on the subject clear.

  When he came to the house for supper, she was awake. They sat across from each other in the dining room, and it reassured him to see her eat. He was careful not to say anything that might disturb her and affect her appetite. She’d never eaten much during the few meals he’d shared with her before, so he considered the fact that she was now eating normally to be a good sign.

  She was still wary of him and on guard. He couldn’t have missed the fine edge of tension about her. So he talked to her about the ranch and what was going on with it. She kept silent, but he could tell she was interested. He truly was going to give her the ranch and everything else, but he sensed that reminding her of it now might upset her.

  He’d told her before the fire that he was going to give it all to her, but he’d made the gesture sound like something he’d hoped would cause her misery. No reason to remind her of that either.

  After supper, Caitlin left the table. She went into the living room and switched on the TV. He glanced in later to see that she was watching a news program, but he didn’t intrude. Later, he heard her go upstairs to bed and he gave up all pretense of doing book work.

  He was trying not to crowd her, but he was already tired of it. Caitlin was a self-sufficient woman who’d lived most of her life apart from others. If he let her, she might continue on the same way the rest of her
life.

  And he wanted her too much to let that happen. The strong streak of impatience in him made it impossible to tolerate much more of Caitlin’s remoteness.

  As it turned out, Reno was forced to be patient. The first week, Caitlin slept a lot and as far as he knew, didn’t try any more walks up the driveway. Nearly every time he came to the house, she was resting. Sometimes she chose the recliner in the living room, sometimes she was upstairs in her room or on the lounge chair on the verandah out front. The only time he saw her was at supper. She was quiet during the meal, making only minimal responses to any attempt he made at conversation. She was on guard against him, but she wasn’t up to a repeat of her first night home from the hospital, so he’d allowed her to keep her distance.

  He watched her those next days, relieved when the faint circles beneath her eyes became a bit less dark. He could tell when her headaches began to get better, because when she came to the table one evening, she seemed less tense and her eyes were a little brighter. Two days after that, he noticed that she didn’t lean quite so much of her weight on her cane.

  Lucky, Bob and Tar came by one evening a week after she’d gotten out of the hospital. He’d gone to the den, leaving the four of them in the living room. Dean Carnes and his wife wanted to see her to thank her in person for carrying their boy out of the fire, but Reno had held them off. Finally, the night after Lucky and the others visited, he brought up the subject at supper.

  “You seem to be getting stronger,” he remarked casually.

  Caitlin’s gaze came up to touch his before it returned to her plate. He saw the faint glimmer in her eyes that hinted at secrecy and sensed she was planning to leave the ranch as soon as she was well enough. He’d make sure all of the ranch vehicles were unavailable to her, and if he had to, he’d hire every rental car in a two-hundred-mile radius to keep her from getting one. He’d have a talk with Mary and Lucky so she’d be thwarted if she turned to them.

  “Dean Carnes and his wife have been waiting to come to the house until you feel up to a visit.”

  Caitlin hesitated, her fork partway to her mouth. She lowered the fork to rest the side of her hand next to her plate. “I’d rather they didn’t.”

  She sensed Reno’s disapproval. “You saved their kid’s life. They feel bad about how they acted before.”

  Caitlin shook her head. “Anyone could have found the boy. If I hadn’t gone in, one of the men would have.” She lifted the fork and took the bite of food.

  “Anyone might have,” he agreed, “but you were the one who did. The Carnes are crazy about their kids, and it’s no small thing to them that you saved Billy’s life.” He paused when she shook her head, more adamantly this time. “Part of the obligation of heroes and heroines is to allow people to express their gratitude.”

  “I’m no heroine.” She set her fork aside and plucked her napkin off her lap to lift it to the table.

  “You probably don’t want to be, but that doesn’t change the facts.” He watched as she slid her chair back to stand and reached for her cane. He set down his own fork, frustrated with her.

  “I’ve seen you lots of ways, Caitlin, but you’ve never been rude or ungracious. Or cruel.”

  Reno’s stern words made her glance at him. The solemn look in his eyes snared her. “This is important to the Carnes.”

  Caitlin glanced away, feeling trapped. She didn’t want to face the Carnes family, didn’t really want to have to face anyone. Over these last days, she’d drawn into herself more and more until she was eager to be on her way, to go someplace where no one knew her, and live anonymously while she tried to make some kind of life for herself. Having to see the Carnes, having to bear their gratitude and perhaps their apologies, was excruciating. To someone as naturally reserved as she was, the idea of attracting such attention was horrifying.

  Reno’s voice was low. “Give them a chance, Caitlin.” His persuasive tone made her unbearably restless.

  “When do they want to come and how long do you think they’ll be here?”

  Reno’s lips curved slightly. “They’ll be here in about ten minutes, and they’ll probably not stay long. Dean’s not much for words. I don’t know about his wife, but neither of them will want to tire you.”

  Caitlin nodded, electing to let go by the information that the Carnes would be there in ten minutes. Obviously, Reno had already set up the meeting without consulting her, but now that everyone expected her to do this, it was probably better to get it over with right away. She felt herself give in.

  Her strained “I’ll be in the living room,” underscored how difficult she thought it would be.

  Reno watched as she turned and walked from the room.

  The Carnes’ visit was mercifully brief, but managed to leave Caitlin emotional. The moment Mrs. Carnes and her husband came into the room, she walked over to where Caitlin stood with her cane and caught her in a brief hug. Caitlin awkwardly returned it. She felt huge relief when the woman released her and stepped back, though she took hold of Caitlin’s free hand with hers.

  “We’re sorry about how we acted when you caught our boys in the loft, Miz Bodine,” Mrs. Carnes said, gripping Caitlin’s fingers urgently. “If we’d done the right thing then, been grateful to you and punished the boys properly, they might never have started the fire.” Her face crumpled. “And there’s no way to tell you how grateful we are that you saved Billy.” Tears streamed down the woman’s face.

  Both of them watched her expectantly. Uncomfortable, Caitlin tried to say something to minimize what she’d done. “I—I was glad I could get to him.”

  She waited a moment for Mrs. Carnes to regain control of her tears. The woman released her hand to reach into a skirt pocket for a tissue. “I’m sorry to bawl all over you, ma’am, but I’ll never get over being grateful to have both my sons alive. And it’s gonna take us a long time to get over the guilt, both for how we acted toward you, and the guilt of the barn burning down.”

  The cowboy interrupted grimly. “If you’d rather I quit the ranch and moved on, we’d understand and hold no hard feelin’s.”

  The offer shocked Caitlin. “There’s no need for you to quit.” She glanced helplessly at Reno, who stood by watching. “Mr. Duvall considers you a valuable employee. I don’t understand how there could be a problem with you staying on.” Because the cowboy seemed unconvinced, Caitlin added softly, “Please, Mr. Carnes, stay on. A good man isn’t easy to replace.”

  Dean Carnes looked down at his hat, gripping it uneasily as fiery color spread up his lean cheeks to his hairline. Finally, he nodded, then glanced up at her before his gaze flicked quickly to Reno’s. “If you’re sure about this, then I thank you, Miz Bodine. Good jobs aren’t easy to replace either. It’ll be an honor to work for you.”

  Before Caitlin could correct him, Mrs. Carnes stepped forward to thank her again for saving little Billy. Uncomfortable with their gratitude, Caitlin made herself smile and endure it until the Carnes left the house.

  The moment they were gone, Caitlin started for the hall to escape to the verandah. The Carnes’ visit had unsettled her and she was relieved it was over. She also wanted to get away from Reno.

  Just as she reached the hall door, he called after her. “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the morning at ten. I’ll come back to the house and drive you.”

  She nodded and stepped into the hall. She’d be glad to see the doctor. Though she was feeling better, she still tired easily. When she stepped out the front door, she walked to the wide wooden swing on the verandah and sat down wearily.

  The headaches weren’t as bad as they had been, but they hung on. Her recovery was slow, and it frustrated her as much as it worried her. Perhaps the strain of being in the house, of avoiding Reno, was draining her. If he was the cause of her fatigue, she could follow through with her plans to leave the Broken B and be confident that she’d feel better right away. But if she was still battling the lingering effects of the concussion, she’d be sensible
to stay on a bit longer.

  And if she had to stay, she wasn’t certain how long she could keep avoiding Reno. He’d left her to herself these past few days, but she’d sensed his impatience. She’d seen the intense looks he’d given her, and there’d been no way to ignore the smoldering gleam in his eyes when she’d caught his gaze wandering over her. She’d been grateful that he hadn’t touched her again, but if she stayed, how long would that last?

  She’d given up pushing herself to get well that first full day out of the hospital when she’d walked up the drive and Reno had brought her back. It really had been too soon then, but maybe it wasn’t now. She had to do something besides rest to get back her strength. Thinking about the way Reno looked at her sometimes and the wild flutter of excitement she felt whenever he did, made her realize she needed to hurry.

  She was starting to think too much about where all those intense looks and flutters of excitement might lead. She knew in her head they could only lead to disaster. Unfortunately, her heart wasn’t as strongly convinced.

  At the doctor’s office the next day, she asked to be allowed to start horseback riding, but the doctor cautioned her about too much jostling and the danger of another blow to the head so soon after the concussion. Because he could tell she was determined to ride, he finally agreed to a very limited time each day on horseback at a smooth-gaited walk.

  The black gelding was a perfect choice for that, and Caitlin felt her spirits lift. The doctor had no quick solution for her fatigue, but he’d told her to expect it for at least a few more weeks, though it would get steadily better now.

  Reno was livid when she told him about her plans to start riding. His growling “You will not ride,” came out through gritted teeth and was followed by an eloquent string of curses, along with a very explicit outline of what he wanted to do to the doctor.

  His vitriol shocked her, but the protectiveness behind his invective gave her a warm sense of safety and security. His fierceness was in keeping with his strong personality and his natural compulsion to protect the ones he cared for. She couldn’t help that she responded instantly to it, or that her effort to dismiss his upset on her behalf fell flat.