by Sandy James
“Good riddance.” He opened the door and headed back inside, hoping his hands and feet would warm quickly. Those men were in for some miserable hours.
Kayla was nowhere to be seen.
“Miss Backer?” he called.
Her sweet voice sounded from down the hall. “I am in my room.”
He found her trying to stuff a blanket into the broken window. “You’re gonna cut yourself if you’re not careful.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she let out a rueful chuckle. “I have already done so.”
“What?” Marching across the room he jerked her hands away, letting the blanket tumble to the floor. “Where?” Then he saw the smeared blood on her palm. Smoothing it away with his fingers, he found small gashes across two of her fingers. “Damn it.”
As she tried to tug her hand away, she said, “Please do not curse in front of me. I have asked you before, Mr. Myers.”
“And I’ve asked you to call me Drake.”
“I can care for my injury later, but the snow is still coming through the window, and I have no wish to build a snowman in my bedroom. Please allow me to finish my task.”
“I’ll go fetch a wood panel to put over it ’til I can get a new window pane.”
Why did his stomach flip each time Kayla smiled at him? He’d seen pretty women before. An innocent smile shouldn’t affect him so profoundly.
“That would be very kind of you,” she said.
He gave her a brusque nod.
“Now, I shall tend these cuts.” When she tried to pull her hand back again, Drake refused to let go. “Please release me, Mr…er… Drake.”
Drake shook his head. “Come with me. I’ll help get you bandaged up.”
Chapter Nine
hreicultttle.
love to her.
tv shift. Edy thign not wanting to track mud into the house. After two weeks of near blizzard condi
Kayla would never have expected such tender care from a man as rugged as Drake Myers. His calloused hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped clean the cuts the glass had made on her index and middle fingers.
Although the bleeding had been fierce when she’d caught her hand against the jagged edge of the broken window pane, the wounds had finally ceased to bleed. He had still insisted on washing the cuts and wrapping clean linen strips around each finger.
She held up her hand, considering the finished bandages. “I look a bit ridiculous with cloth rings on two of my fingers.”
With a chuckle, Drake took her hand again and brushed his lips against the back of it.
Warmth spread across Kayla’s cheeks, a heat that moved down her neck and chest. The nearness of him flooded her senses.
He smelled good. A surprise since when she’d first met him, he’d often carried the scent of the livestock he tended as well as the odor of unwashed clothes. And, of course, the odor of whiskey that had floated around him like a cloud. As he’d gone through his withdrawal from alcohol, she’d made sure all of his clothing was given a thorough washing. He’d obviously given himself just as thorough a cleansing.
Now, his scent reminded her of the outdoors. Clean and crisp. With a touch of something she could only think of as his own unique, masculine allure.
And alluring he was, especially when he still held tightly to her hand. Before he’d pulled himself from the mire, she’d found him attractive—unkempt though he’d been. With him being clean and sober, she found him nearly irresistible.
Thoughts of the kiss they’d shared couldn’t be pushed aside. While she’d been kissed before, back when she was engaged to Gregory Carrington, she’d never experienced anything more than a chaste press of his lips to hers. Kayla hadn’t known that a kiss could be so…splendid. Her body had flushed with heat and a need that she’d hadn’t recognized. One that Gregory had never inspired. One that made her want to get closer to Drake, to have him wrap himself around her.
With a frown, she worried the temptation to have him teach her more about what a man and woman could share might be too hard to resist.
He cocked his head. “Why are you frownin’?”
She tried to tug her hand back.
He wouldn’t let it go. “Was it something I said?”
“I am quite well, thank you. I have chores to do.” Pulling a little harder, Kayla had to gape at him when he still refused to turn her loose. “Unhand me, sir.”
With a shake of his head, Drake smiled. Then he leaned down to press his lips to hers.
Although she knew that she shouldn’t allow him to take such liberties again, she closed her eyes and surrendered with a sigh.
His lips were warm and soft against hers, and as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer, she felt her heartbeat speed in anticipation, loving the surge of desire that raced through her as his lips caressed hers.
When he quickly dropped his hold on her and stepped back, her eyes flew open. The anger that she saw on his face was confusing. The kiss had been so enjoyable. Why did he look mad enough to spit nails? “Drake? Is something amiss?”
Raking his fingers through his hair, he stared at the floorboards. “I’m sorry, Miss Backer.”
The man wasn’t making any sense. She’d been quite willing to participate in their kiss, and she wasn’t at all ready for him to stop. The change of his mood had been swift, and his apology was puzzling. “Why would you be sorry?”
“I shouldn’t have… You’re just too… That was so damned…” He took another step back. “Forgive me.” Turning on his heel, he grabbed his coat and the cap she’d knitted for him from the wooden peg and headed outside.
She almost followed him to the porch to call after him, wanting him to stop and explain what he’d been thinking. Not once had she protested him kissing her, and his words had done nothing to clear her confusion. Surely, he knew that she’d never allow anything beyond that simple show of affection, and yet it seemed as if the kiss had been so unsatisfactory that he felt the need to flee her presence. It was as if his use of her formal name built some barrier between them.
Still staring at the closed door, she pondered one other important thing.
Why did she wish he would at least try to do more than kiss her?
* * *
Drake gave Rusty a few affectionate pats. “Sorry you’ve been cooped up in here. We’ll go for a nice long ride soon.” He closed and latched the gate to his horse’s stall and looked around the inside of the barn.
Kayla had done a wonderful job with the animals, and she’d even chopped a bit of firewood. He’d finished the few chores that remained, and then he’d promptly run out of things to do. His body was tense, but he wasn’t sure if the tightness was from residual anger at the two idiots who’d tried to grab Kayla or if he was merely in need of a woman.
No, not a woman.
Kayla Backer.
Normally one to prefer big-breasted, wide-hipped ladies, he had to admit that her slender form had felt perfect pressed against him. That was why he’d ended the kiss. Touching her, having her lips against his, made his head swim and his mind fill with impossible thoughts.
Perhaps accepting this job had been a mistake. Perhaps he’d have been better off trying to find work in White Pines.
But there hadn’t been anything for him there. Not when he’d been a no-account drunk. Coming here had probably saved him in more ways than he could count.
Drake stepped out of the barn and glanced to where the beginning of Kayla’s house was barely visible among the snow drifts. After all she’d done for him, how she’d taken such good care for him, he owed her more than he could ever repay.
He figured building her the perfect house would be a good start.
* * *
Kayla had a pleasant surprise three days later.
For this first time since he’d become temperate, Drake had awakened without prompting and began his chores without prodding, actually performing some of his duties before she’d risen. When she’d dressed and gone into
the kitchen, she’d seen him through the window, feeding the chickens. His gaze had caught hers, and he’d given her a tentative smile—another first. A little embarrassed, she waved before feeling silly and setting herself to the task of making breakfast.
She was just putting their plates on the table when he came inside. After brushing the fresh snow off his shoulders, he made a point of wiping his feet on the braided rug she’d made to keep mud off her clean floors. He even shot her a smile to show her he’d remembered her instructions. Then he tossed aside his hat, scarf, and gloves—the ones she had knitted for him.
“Breakfast smells mighty good,” he said as he pulled his chair out. A frown crossed his face before he hurried to the chair she was going to use. He eased it away from the table as though waiting for her to sit.
A bit confused, Kayla mumbled her thanks. Up until today, Drake’s manners had been practically nonexistent. She’d let each slight pass because she’d realized exactly how much he’d been suffering.
Today was definitely one of turning a corner in his conduct, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
Meals—at least the ones Drake took at the table rather than on a tray in his room—had always passed in silence. Another change in his conduct, for now he kept up steady chatter.
“You shoulda seen Rose this mornin’. Why, she’s as big as the barn she lives in,” he said.
Funny, but his stream of comments about the farm and all its animal occupants was comforting, reminding her of the men she tended. She missed Drew and Gideon, but for the first time since they’d left, she accepted Drake’s companionship. Enjoyed it.
“Think I’ll go see what I can get done on your house,” he said, scooting his chair away from the table and then helping with hers.
His announcement took her by surprise. Between his recovery and the amount of snow that had fallen recently, Kayla had assumed her home would see little or no progress until spring. “But what about last night’s snow?”
“Ain’t all that much,” he replied. “There’s plenty I can do now that I’m not drink...er...now that I’m feeling better.”
“Is there anything I can do that would assist you?”
He rubbed his fingertips against the stubble that covered his chin.
At least he was thinking it over. She was so desperate to get out of the house and so happy that she finally had someone to talk to rather than care for, she added another argument. “Surely two of us would see much more progress than if you labored alone.”
“I s’pose there is. Tell you what, let me help you with cleanin’ up this mess, then we’ll get to work.”
For a moment, Kayla was struck speechless. Drew might assist her in what Gideon usually called “woman’s work,” but Drake helping with dishes?
Perhaps now that he wasn’t pickling his brain, he might develop a pleasant and endearing personality. “I’d be quite pleased to have your help.”
* * *
Drake finished pounding in a nail and then glanced up. Kayla was doing her damnedest to pick up a rather large stone. Since the foundation was almost complete, he had no idea why she felt the need to move such a heavy rock.
He was about to call out to her when she let out a rather unladylike grunt, tried to lift the stone, and slipped in the fresh snow. Her backside hit the ground, and then she did a backward somersault down the slight incline. Sprawled in the snow, legs and arms akimbo, she looked a bit dazed.
Tossing aside his hammer, he ran to help her. Damn if he didn’t stumble over her rock. Although he tried hard to regain his footing, he ended up sliding face-first down the small hill, not stopping until he slid right between her open legs, his face pressed into her bunched-up skirts.
It took a moment for his thoughts to clear, and when Drake glanced up, he found Kayla sputtering in indignation, her face red as fire.
Laughter bubbled up inside him at the absurdity of the whole situation until he couldn’t contain it. God, how long had it been since he’d had something to laugh about?
Since she was struggling to jerk her skirts from under him, he rolled to his side, his laughter coming so hard and deep that his sides began to ache.
“How dare you laugh at me!” Scrambling to her feet, she’d tried to repair her appearance. Her hands brushed hard at her skirts, trying to settle them back into place.
All Drake could do was wrap his arms around his middle and keep laughing.
“Stop laughing at me!” When Kayla stomped her booted foot, she hit a piece of ice. Her arms flailed in circles as she tried to keep from falling to the ground again. Just when it appeared she’d succeeded, her feet went out from under her and she landed on her backside right next to him.
She slapped his arm before rubbing her hip. “Stop laughing at me!”
Only the hurt in her voice helped Drake regain a little of his self-control. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“You most certainly are.” Rolling so she was on her hands and knees, she prepared to stand.
He hurried to his feet so he could grab her under the elbow and assist her. “Not at you. I was laughin’ because... Well, because it was funny, what with both of us finding ourselves on our ass— On our backsides.”
Fussing with her clothes, she wouldn’t allow his eyes to catch hers. “I fail to see any humor in wallowing around on the ground like a piglet.”
Snow still stuck to most of their clothing, so he tried to help her brush herself clean. He was smoothing the snow off her shoulders when she looked up at him with those big eyes of hers. Her cheeks were bright with color, her eyes sparkling as though she now saw the humor.
Drake had to kiss her.
It only took an instant for him to realize that he was playing with fire. The mere touch of his lips to hers was enough to tell him that he was in trouble. As he mentally warned himself to stop, he pulled her into his arms.
Kayla always responded with heat when he kissed her, melting into him and looping her arms around his neck. Despite the cold, his body’s response was swift. When he was trying to justify carrying her into the house and making love to her, he forced himself to grab her arms and set her away from him.
As she glared up at him, her brows gathered and her eyes boring through him, Drake had to fight the nearly irresistible desire to kiss her again.
“Why?” she demanded.
He cocked his head. “Why what?”
“Why do you keep…?” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Oh bother. Never mind.”
“Why do I keep kissing you?”
“Why do you keep pushing me away?” Her words were mere whispers.
Realizing exactly how little he knew about nice women, Drake replied honestly. “Because I shouldn’t be kissing a lady like you.”
The confusion was still plain on her face. “Why on earth not?”
“Because you’re too good for the likes of me.”
Kayla blinked, at an absolute loss at what to say to such a ludicrous comment.
Too good for him? According to Gregory’s mother, Kayla was nothing more than white trash. To have Drake believe she was too far above his touch rendered her speechless.
He turned and walked back up the small hill as she watched him walk away, unable to call him back and demand that he get his foolish notions out of his mind and do so immediately.
Didn’t he know how his kisses affected her? How much she enjoyed his touch? No man had ever inspired the feelings that Drake Myers created so effortlessly. Not once had she considered getting closer to any man since she’d been torn from Gregory’s life and sent on the odyssey that had brought her to Montana as a potential mail-order bride.
Kayla had been so relieved to find that Caleb Young had already married by the time she’d arrived. Back then, she fancied herself still in love with Gregory. Even considering another man’s offer for marriage—and Lord knew there’d been plenty—had been untenable. She’d settled in nicely taking care of “confirmed bachelors” Drew and Gideon and had figur
ed she wasn’t meant to have a family of her own.
Then Drake had come into her life.
Now, she was reassessing her future, and more and more she saw Drake Myers as a part of it.
“I am a fool,” she muttered to herself before returning to the rock she’d been trying to move. “An utter fool.”
Chapter Ten
“Such a beautiful day,” Kayla said, stretching her arms high before settling her hands back in her lap. It was joyous to be able to take a wagon ride to town for supplies and not be hemmed in looking at the same four walls as she had for six straight weeks.
When hard winter finally settled over the farm, she knew things would get worse. Fear nudged her, telling her that she might go mad from boredom. The only thing that might relieve her tedium was the library Drew had amassed. With her voracious reading habit, there were few stories she’d yet to read, but she had no aversion to rereading good books.
And then there was Drake. While she had been reticent of his living so close, his company would be a blessing in the coming months. Yet she fretted over what might happen between them in such close quarters when heavy snow kept them isolated from the rest of the world. He still occupied a bedroom in the house, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that he should probably return to his loft in the barn. While she might have handled herself well with the ruffians who’d come to take her, she was comforted that Drake was close should a similar event occur.
She also abhorred the idea of the poor man being out with the animals and shivering in the cold as he tried to sleep. The stove in his loft surely didn’t put off much heat, and it was, of course, a fire hazard. She had good reasons for wanting him to continue his stay in the house.