by Sandy James
“He was—until he had no choice but to abandon his ways.”
“No choice?”
“One night after drinking far too much, he stepped in front of a fast-moving carriage. His back was injured and he lost the ability to walk. I refused to allow him to drink as he recovered, and since I managed the household from that point on, I would not bring alcohol into our home.”
Oh, how that had angered her father! But there had been times—far too many times—the man had sworn he’d changed his ways only to be tempted back into a life ruled by spirits.
“Where is he?” Drake asked.
“Pardon?”
“Why isn’t he here with you?”
She sighed. “He died more than a year ago.”
Drake watched the sadness steal away every bit of spark from Kayla’s face, and he wished he hadn’t pushed for answers. Yet he was glad to learn a little about her, even if what she shared came in such small bits and pieces.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer until he stood before her. Then he cupped her soft face in his hands and kissed her forehead.
He owed her so much. Until this morning—the first truly clearheaded morning he’d had in almost as long as he could remember—he hadn’t realized exactly how low he’d sunk. Nor could he continue to blame Sara’s theft for his debauchery. Even before the day she’d stolen the payroll from him, Drake had been lost to drinking and whoring.
When he sat in bed, contemplating his life, his first thought had been shame. His Uncle Herbert, the man who’d raised Drake as though he were his son, would have been disgusted with what he’d become. That thought made Drake vow never to allow himself to be the kind of man he couldn’t stand to see staring back from that looking glass Kayla had forced him to use. No, he would change. He’d be the kind of man his uncle would’ve been proud to claim.
The first thing on his “to do” list was to thank Kayla for helping enlighten him. Instead, he’d picked at a barely healed wound, and his questions had turned her sunny mood sour.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her into a hug, a bit surprised she didn’t try to move away. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“There’s no need,” she replied, although she didn’t relax in his arms. Instead, her hands rested against his chest as if she couldn’t decide whether to push herself out of his embrace or continue to allow it. “You couldn’t have known.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry that I brought back bad memories.” He pressed his lips to her forehead again. Her pleasant, somewhat flowery scent and the feel of her body so close to his made it difficult to think. All he wanted was to give her a proper kiss.
Proper kiss?
Hell, he wanted to bed her. End of story.
“I should get you something to eat,” she said.
Drake crooked his finger under her chin and lifted until her eyes met his. “I need to thank you.”
“You already have.”
“Not properly.” Before she could have a chance to figure out his intent, he kissed her.
For a long moment, he waited for her to break the connection and flee his embrace. Instead, she sighed against his mouth and leaned against him as she threaded her arms around his neck. A low growl rumbled from him when Kayla’s fingers tangled through his hair, tugging gently as she moaned.
God, he wanted to pick her up and carry her to the bed. Then he’d peel off that prim dress and make love to her.
If the woman could read his mind, she’d be running for the door. Despite her passionate response to his kiss, she wasn’t the kind of woman a man tumbled for fun. No, she was the kind of woman a man married, and that wasn’t ever going to happen in his life.
Feeling a little guilty for taking advantage of her after all she’d done for him, he eased back, refusing to deepen the kiss. But he smugly noticed how her mouth followed his. A moment later, her cheeks flushed a vivid red. What he didn’t know was whether she was embarrassed or angry.
“I am so sorry,” she said, stumbling back a few steps.
Considering he was the one who should be apologizing, Drake couldn’t help but gape at her. “Sorry? You’re sorry?”
“I am,” she replied with a nod. “I should not have been so…so…brazen. It shall not happen again.”
She left before he could set her straight.
Chapter Eight
As Drake dressed, he wondered what could have been going through Kayla’s mind to make her apologize, as though she’d offended him with the kiss. Remorseful words had been ready to tumble from his mouth, but she’d beaten him to the punch. He’d never been so surprised in his whole life, and not only from her apology, even though he’d never expected it.
The way she’d kissed him had shattered all the notions he’d held about Miss Kayla Backer. Drake had judged her as a cold woman. Why else would she remain unmarried in a place where she had her choice of men—men who desperately wanted wives? With the inordinate gossip that flew through the town, he’d heard the stories of the many proposals of marriage she’d spurned. The men in the town insinuated all sorts of wild things about her. Everything from her being frigid to her preferring the company of other women.
Then she’d kissed him and proven every story to be nothing but cruel blather.
There was nothing cold about Kayla. The woman many in White Pines called the Ice Queen was definitely hiding some heat inside her.
That knowledge left Drake torn on what to do next. He owed her so much for helping him recover from his bout of severe self-pity and depravity. Yet he still tasted her on his lips, still felt her soft curves pressed against his body. He might curse himself as nothing but a randy goat, but he desperately wanted to explore the passion her kiss had offered.
Now what?
For now, he’d wait and watch. Should Kayla give him so much as the crook of her finger in invitation, he’d give in to his desire. But should her passion never reveal itself again, Drake would leave her be.
It was the only honorable thing to do, and God knew he hadn’t been acting honorably for quite some time.
“As good a time as any to start,” he muttered to himself as he headed out of his room.
Kayla was setting two plates full of food on the table. “Are you hungry?”
Her question was so calmly asked, he couldn’t help but think he’d misread her reaction to their kiss. Then he saw how she tightly gripped her hands together after she put the plates down.
The desire to put her at ease nearly overwhelmed him. “Yes, ma’am. I surely am.” Drake glanced at the plate as he pulled out her chair for her. “Smells tasty.”
“I hope you enjoy it.” She scooted her chair a little closer and picked up the piece of linen she’d set on the table.
Since he had no idea what that linen was for, his first inclination was to stuff it in the collar of his shirt to protect it from spills. He watched her and was surprised to see her drape the linen napkin over her lap. The woman had impeccable manners, so he shook the cloth out and laid it on his knees. He was rewarded with a shy smile.
They ate in silence, but that quiet didn’t seem to bother her. Just like him, she seemed comfortable with it. By the time the meal was over, he was exhausted. No doubt his body was still recovering, but he felt worse than useless.
Kayla carried her plate to the sink. When she came to pick up his, she knit her brow. “Are you ill? You’ve gone as pale as milk.”
He’d wanted to get back to his chores today, but he’d need a nap before he could manage something as taxing as dealing with the livestock. “I’m not sick. Just tired. Again.”
As though she didn’t believe him, she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.
“I’m fine. Truly,” he insisted. “Only plumb tuckered out.”
“You should go sleep for a spell,” she said, picking up his dirty plate. “After I clear away the breakfast clutter, I shall tend to the animals.”
“You could leave it ’til a
fter my nap.” Even as he made the promise, Drake knew some of the chores simply couldn’t wait.
“I shall milk the cow and be sure to feed all of our stock. Then we can share this afternoon’s chores.”
“That sounds nice.” Drake couldn’t stop a yawn from slipping out. “Thanks for pickin’ up my slack while I’ve been…out of sorts.”
“I’m accustomed to hard work,” Kayla said. “I find it soothing. Please go and rest. I’ll wake you should you not rise by the noon meal.”
* * *
Drake came awake with a start at a loud sound.
Was that breaking glass?
Heaven only knew how long he’d slept. As his mind cleared of the fog of slumber, he caught whispered voices from the bedroom down the hall—voices he didn’t recognize. He strained to listen as he grabbed his pants from where he’d set them aside before his nap and tugged them on.
“I done told ya and told ya, Smitty. She ain’t got no one here with her.”
“Ya told me. Just ain’t gonna believe any woman could be that stupid.”
The intruders’ feet crunched against broken glass, spurring Drake to hurry and slip on his boots. The men were inside the house, and he had no doubt their intentions were malicious.
Where in the hell was Kayla? Was she still outside?
He had to protect her.
The noise of an object crashing to the wood floor filled the air, sounding as loud as thunder. The men who’d been foolish enough to come after her weren’t concerned with being heard, which meant they didn’t realize Drake was on the farm, let alone in the house.
“Damn it, Grimes! Why don’t ya go ahead and shout that we’re here? Damn clumsy fool.”
“Ain’t got no worries, Smitty. She be in the barn, tendin’ the stock. We can grab her up when she comes back in.”
How kind of them to reveal their plan.
Drake eased open the bureau drawer where she’d put his gun and holster. He slid the gun loose, checked that it was loaded, and let out his held breath at seeing bullets in the chambers. Moving as silently as possible, he eased toward the door as he strained to hear their movements.
“Just you be rememberin’, Grimes,” one of the ragged voices said. “I get first poke at her.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t matter none to me. You’ll just be stretchin’ her out for me.”
Blood lust raced through Drake, and it took every bit of his self-control not to rush out and break both of their necks. Instead, he paused as they made their noisy way down the hallway, waiting until the first was within striking distance. While he might want them dead after hearing their big plans for Kayla, he knew the best thing to do was beat them down and then let Marshal Riley sort the bastards out.
He slid his gun into his holster.
“Just thought of somethin’, Smitty. Where we gonna find a parson to marry the three of us?”
“Marry? Three people cain’t marry, you fool.” A loud snort followed the question. “No one said nothin’ about marryin’ the bitch anyway. Shoulda taken our money when we offered it to her. Now, she’s gonna give it to us for nothin’.”
With a deep breath, Drake used the element of surprise to step into the hallway. He was able to grab the closest intruder and punch him in the face. Anger fueled the hit, and the man’s nose broke. Before the guy could recoup, Drake hit him again, sending a couple of rotten teeth clattering to the floor. The man fell to his knees before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to his right side.
The other man rushed Drake, wrapping his arms around Drake’s waist and slamming his back against the wall.
Breath coming out in a loud whoosh, Drake kept boxing the guy in his ear until he turned loose of his waist. Then Drake shoved the horrible smelling man far enough away that he could take a swing at him. His fist connected soundly with the would-be kidnapper’s jaw.
Blood began to pour from the man’s mouth. “I ongue,” he mumbled as though his tongue were swollen. “Oo ade ee ite i ongue.”
“Bit your tongue, did you? Well, then,” Drake said, cocking his elbow. “Let’s see if I can make you do that again.” This undercut punch sent blood flying before the man collapsed next to his partner.
Drake looked past the bodies and down the hallway to see Kayla standing there, a shotgun in her hands—a shotgun that was now aimed at him.
“Easy there,” he said, splaying his hands to calm her.
“It would appear that you handled the mischief makers without my assistance,” she said, her strained voice betraying the fear her beautiful face wasn’t revealing.
Wondering what to say to ease her worries, he nodded at the men. “Afraid I made a bit of a mess.”
She kept switching her gaze from him to the two unconscious men on the floor. “You were able to subdue both men?”
Shooting her a smile, he nodded. “They didn’t put up much of a fight. How did you know to grab the shotgun?”
“When I was returning from the barn, I spied their horses tied to the tree by the goat pen. Once I had a good look at them breaking the window and crawling through, I had to guess they were up to no good.” One of them groaned, and she frowned in response. “Were you able to ascertain exactly why they chose to force their way into our house?”
“If I heard their plans right, they were going to abduct you, Miss Backer.”
She quirked an eyebrow, but he wasn’t sure if it was over his announcement or the polite address he’d used.
It had just slipped out as a way to show her the respect she clearly deserved. Had he not been there, she would have been able to protect herself quite well.
Both of the intruders began to stir, and Drake grabbed the collars of their thick coats, dragged them to their feet, and gave the men a hard shake. “I guess I can bind these varmints in the barn ’til morning. Then I can ride into town and fetch Marshal Riley.” He frowned as he looked at both their broken faces. “I don’t recognize either of them. Do you?”
“I fear that I do,” Kayla said, still pointing the shotgun. “To your right is Eugene Smith, whom his friends call Smitty. The other gentleman is Joseph Grimes.”
The fact that she hadn’t put down the gun was making Drake nervous. Women and firearms didn’t mix well, and he sure didn’t want to end up with a hole in his belly if the damn thing went off accidentally. She might be holding the shotgun, but he had no idea if she knew how to use it. “Why don’t you put that gun down now?”
“Because I do not trust either of these men, and until they are gone from this farm, I will defend myself.”
Since she was being her usual stubborn self, he tried to expedite matters so he could get them secured in the barn and relieve her of her weapon. “How do you know them?”
“They accosted me on the street the last time I ventured into White Pines, so I made it a point to learn their names. I believed it important to know with whom one is dealing.”
Drake’s imagination ran wild as he pictured the way those scoundrels might have tried to talk to Kayla. “What happened?”
“I believe they had formed the opinion that I was a woman of…ill repute.” She let out a small scoff. “They wished to engage my services.”
Had there been enough light for him to see her face better, he had no doubt he’d be seeing a bright blush on her cheeks. The notion that those two men were too stupid to know a woman like Kayla was about as far from a prostitute as a woman could get made him long to punch them again just to pay them back for the insult they’d given her.
“Turn me loose, you varmint,” Smitty demanded.
Still holding tight to Smitty’s collar, Drake gave him another rough shake. “The only place you’re goin’ is the barn. You and your pal here can just cool your heels ’til I can get Marshal Riley out here.”
Kayla shook her head. “I refuse to abide their presence on this farm a moment longer. They should be on their way.”
“On their way?” Drake couldn’t stop the loud, incredulous words fr
om spilling from his lips. “Have you gone daft? They need to be in jail.”
She gave her head another shake. “I simply do not care whether they are punished or not, although I imagine Gideon might wish that they bear the cost of the broken pane of glass.”
“Then what d’ya want to do with them?”
“They can walk back to town,” she announced.
“Walk?” Smitty whined. “Why we gotta walk? Got a pair of horses out there.”
“I fear you are wrong in that judgment,” Kayla said, a saucy smile forming on her face.
Grimes kept trying to get to his feet, which pleased Drake since it gave him an excuse to shove the smelly man right back down to his knees.
“What you sayin’?” Smitty demanded.
“Your horses are already well on their way back to White Pines,” she said. “I set them loose as soon as I deduced you men had ill intentions. I also gave each a good, hard slap on their rumps to be sure they would make a hasty exit. You two gentlemen shall have to walk back to the town to fetch your animals. My guess is that they will find their way back to the livery where you stable them.”
Grinning at her clever way of handling the two idiots, Drake dragged them toward the front door. “It’s still mighty cold out there, boys. Hope you don’t lose a toe or two to frostbite getting back to town.”
“You ain’t really tossin’ us out in the snow, is you?” Grimes asked as he stumbled to keep up with Drake’s fast pace.
“Damn right, I am,” Drake said. He wasn’t surprised that Kayla had hurried ahead to open the door for him.
“We’ll freeze to death!” Smitty complained.
“Shoulda thought of that before you came out here tryin’ to hurt the lady,” Drake said.
As soon as he got close enough, he dropped Grimes on the floor. Then he gripped Smitty’s collar tighter, took hold of the back of the man’s pants, and heaved him out onto the porch. Grimes followed close behind.
Although the two men continued protesting, Drake kicked each in the ass to get them off the porch, and he watched as they trudged away in the snow, following the tracks left behind by their fleeing animals. The door closed softly behind him, but he maintained his vigil in the freezing cold until he could no longer see them.