Gun Shy

by Diane Saxon

  Under cover of the encroaching blackness, Jack raised a hand to wipe the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead while he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d held.

  His powers of negotiation had never been tested to such lengths.

  ∙•∙

  Too dazed to know what she was doing and too embarrassed to return after what she’d considered a composed exit, Kate fumbled around in the dark until at the third door she managed to find an overlarge bathroom. She flipped on the light and turned the lock, blinking in the bright white light of a bare bulb.

  Fascinated, she scanned the room. Still a work in progress, it was almost finished. A huge white tub languished on an elevated dais, and Kate imagined the view from the window that ran the entire length of it would be stunning in daylight. As it was, she could only see her own disheveled reflection.

  Shiny jet black tiles covered the floor, looking like they had been buffed and polished, indicating the bathroom project was almost at an end. Everything appeared to be connected in all the right ways, but Kate checked the back of the toilet before she used it, just to make sure.

  She wished she’d brought her underwear in from the car, but it didn’t really matter. She imagined she wouldn’t be wearing clothes for very much longer anyhow.

  With a sly glance, she peered in the mirror above the sink at her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

  What could she have said to him?

  He’d professed he didn’t want to get involved. But he had. He’d declared he didn’t want a relationship, but he’d just offered her one.

  Kate leaned closer to the mirror, smoothed the fine line of her eyebrows, and smiled at herself. He’d sworn never to get on a plane, but the man protested about everything.

  Chapter Twelve

  He’d wanted to get her something special, with real meaning. Something that wouldn’t make her think of wedding bells and flowers, but would let her know he thought of her. He was proud he’d set the parameters of their relationship and Kate never once pushed the boundaries or spoke of the future. But the longer they were together, the more the lines had blurred.

  The weeks had flown past. The fear of entrapment had receded, and the chest tightening had become less, but every now and then, waves of panic flowed over him to make him wonder if he was right in his assumption he’d be able to let her go without regret. Or if she’d want to let him go.

  There was no weakness to Kate, but his biggest fear still lay with the thought of the tearful, grasping desperation in the dying embers of a failed relationship.

  Independent, she’d never made a single demand on him. They lived their lives, she just happened to be there when he wasn’t doing other things. It rankled a little that she took him at his word and kept it casual. She went out with her crowd from work, and if their shift patterns allowed, Jack and Kate spent their time together. Of course, the fact that he could jiggle his shifts a little to suit hers was neither here nor there, and there wasn’t a soul who would pass comment if he did.

  He wandered through his empty rooms, pleased with the progress he’d made. He’d thought work would slow up as he spent more time with Kate, but she’d surprised him by fixing his dinner while he hammered in nails, throwing laundry into the machine while he sawed more wood. She’d made life easier, smoother.

  He leaned against the open door of the bathroom and gazed with a critical eye at the finished work, the satisfaction he should feel not quite as fulfilling as he’d expected as he scanned the empty surfaces.

  She never left anything of herself at his house. There wasn’t a toothbrush in the bathroom, a spare set of underwear, or any of the do-hickeys women had. Not that Kate bothered much with do-hickeys. What she brought, she carried in a small tote bag which left when she did.

  He should consider himself lucky.

  He pushed himself away from the door and strolled through to his bedroom. The stark masculinity of it lost some of its appeal.

  She never presumed. She hadn’t done a single thing to make it look as though she even visited his house. She never changed anything, never brought little nick-knack gifts he’d be obliged to put on display. What she brought was an occasional bottle of wine, a bag of groceries. She did nothing to make him uncomfortable. Looking around, no one would believe a female had crossed the door into his domain.

  Yet something of her was always there. When he went to bed alone, he imagined the warmth of her body next to him. Her soft feminine fragrance scented the pillow she used, tempting him to nuzzle his face into it to breathe her in. The bathroom, where she washed her hair with her own shampoo she always took away with her, kept the perfume and conjured up images of her whenever he showered.

  Knowing he should be relieved she made no demands on him, there was a kernel of irritation and unease that she didn’t presume more. Content to accept his boundaries without pushing, her cool, calm acceptance of the situation irked.

  With a quick glance at his watch, he snatched up the keys to his truck and dashed out of the house. He needed to pick up her present before he started work.

  More than his thoughts, the woman had engaged far too many of his emotions, so even when she wasn’t there, he couldn’t rid himself of the desire to be with her.

  His mind on Kate and the present he’d just picked up for her, Jack almost stepped over his own grandmother as he barreled along the sidewalk in his haste to get to work.

  “Hello, Jack.” She stepped into the circle of his arms for a bear hug just like he’d learned from his grandfather. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Have you got time for a coffee?”

  With a quick glance at his watch, he shrugged and turned in the direction she’d been headed, his fingers linked with hers. His deputies knew how to get ahold of him. Thirty minutes more wouldn’t kill anyone.

  “Sure, Grandma. I was up at the ranch just the other day, but you were out riding.” He raked his gaze over the woman who’d given birth to his mother and thought how good she looked for someone who had led a full and active life.

  Her faded hazel eyes were sharp and astute, her mind bright and alert. Her face showed the deep lines age and weather had carved into her skin, but the lines were those of a good life filled with laughter and contentment. As a family they’d been lucky.

  Jack touched his fingers to the wings of silver hair streaking through what was once pure black and smiled down at the wiry woman.

  “I’m afraid I’m getting old, Jack,” she said as she raised her hand to place it self-consciously on his.

  “No, Grandma, I think you look like you might be starting to mature a little.”

  She harrumphed as they took their seats in a booth of The Shake and Bake Shack. Eyes sharp, she watched him with a grandmother’s interest while the flirty little waitress filled their mugs with thick, dark coffee and placed a serving of cherry pie in front of Jack. He sighed and pushed it across the table away from him. If Kate had been with him, she would have whipped it away from him and dug into it herself.

  He slipped the small package he’d picked up onto the seat by his side.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing much.” He nudged it until it was hidden from her view and hoped she wouldn’t recognize the name on the bag, but he refused to be drawn.

  “So…” She let the subject drop a little too easily and leaned forward in her seat, her coffee cup cradled in both hands. She took a quick sip and pinned him with her sharp gaze. “I met your young lady this morning.”

  Jack paused, his own coffee halfway to his mouth, and slowly raised an eyebrow.

  “What young lady might that be?” Anyone else would have read the off-limits signs, heard in the tone of voice it was a no-go area, but his grandmother cheerfully smiled at him and ignored the danger signals.

  “Why, Jack, the one you haven’t yet had the decency to introduce to your own family.” She ignored his stony stare and continued, her voice light and bubbly, the voice her children and grandkids were all wary
of. It meant she was riled and they were just about to catch shit from her. “That lovely Doctor Kathleen Marsden.”

  “Katherine.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She twinkled at him, and he knew she had him. There was going to be no easy way out of this one unless he was down-right rude, in which case, she would probably wipe the floor with him.

  “Her name is Katherine, but she’s not my young lady.” He swigged a huge gulp of his coffee to cover the lie. “We’ve seen a little of each other recently is all. It’s nothing special.” But his throat tightened over the words. “Don’t get yourself all excited.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m not getting myself excited. I wondered why my grandson hasn’t mentioned he’s virtually living with a woman that rumor has it he gave a house key to.”

  He snorted in disgust. Rumor was a bitch.

  “Doesn’t anybody have lives to live around here? Why is it they all seem to know what’s going on with me, but they haven’t got the sight to see what goes on under their own noses. Why just the other day, Tommy…”

  His grandmother clipped her coffee cup down on its saucer, her hawkish stare pinning him so his voice dried up and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  Diversion tactics weren’t going to work.

  “Don’t you dare try and distract me with gossip about one of your cousins, young man.” She gave his arm a light tap and softened the rebuke with a lofty smile. “You should know better than that.”

  There was a long moment of silence before he sighed long and loud, just like the teenage boy she could always reduce him to.

  “She’s a doctor.”

  “Uh-huh, I got that.”

  “She’s from England.”

  “Yesss.”

  “Well, how did you meet her?” It was only of vague interest to him.

  “I was visiting old Mrs. Cooper.” The woman was barely a year older than his grandmother. “She fell and broke her hip yesterday. Your lady fixed her up good and proper and was just checking on her when I got there.” She picked up her cup again and took a sip of the coffee. “We had a nice little chat.”

  “What exactly was it you chatted about?” Distrust curdled his stomach.

  “Why about Mrs. Cooper of course, and her recovery. She’s quite charming, really.”

  “Mrs. Cooper?” The woman was a harridan. She’d been one of the main causes of the grief he’d suffered while she directed young women to cross his path.

  “No, honey. Kathleen.”

  He puffed out a breath. He knew when his grandmother was pulling his strings, but somehow, he’d never been able to avoid it.

  “Katherine, Grandma. Most people call her Kate.”

  “Well I heard you call her Katie.” She beamed at him like she’d just won a prize.

  How the hell had she learned that? “I do. No one else does.”

  “That’s nice you have a pet name for her. It’s very telling. It means there’s affection there.”

  He opened his mouth to deny it and snapped it shut again to stop from falling into her trap, but she leaned forward and patted his hand. She was on a roll.

  “So, when are you going to bring your Katie around to meet us? Perhaps it would be best if you introduced her during a nice, quiet family meal fairly soon.”

  He cringed. There was no such thing as quiet as far as his family was concerned.

  “Maybe you should bring her to meet Grandpa and myself before the christening so she already knows us before she meets the rest of the family. We can be very overwhelming when we’re all together.”

  His mouth dropped open as a wide innocent smile stretched into the brackets of wrinkles on his grandmother’s face. She’d never been innocent in her life.

  Ice-cold panic skittered through his veins. Soon she’d be talking weddings.

  “I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself here. I just said Katherine…”

  “Katie, honey.”

  He ground his teeth while he prayed for patience. She was the only person in his life who could possibly manipulate him.

  “Katie. Kate and I aren’t serious. Really, she’ll return to England in another few months and what we have is just casual and friendly.”

  “But—”

  “No, Grandma.” He leaned in to give her hands a gentle squeeze. “I love you dearly, but you have the wrong end of the stick.” Quick and clumsy, he jiggled from his seat, almost falling over his feet as he scrambled to get away. Dread sliced deep into his heart.

  He hated to disappoint his grandma, but not even for her would he admit to any serious attachment to Kate. The tight squeeze of fear filled his chest.

  “I won’t bring Kate to a family lunch and she won’t be coming to the christening either.”

  He bent down to retrieve the package and then leaned over the table to buss his silent grandmother’s cheek with a respectful kiss. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to work now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  »»•««

  The festering horror bubbled and surfaced as he strode through the hospital hallways. Kate’s present, still boxed and bagged, swung from his left hand a little more erratically than it deserved.

  Her quick glance of surprise as he approached followed by a broad smile should have given him some comfort, but he wasn’t in the mood to be charmed by her.

  “Have you got a minute?”

  Without waiting for a reply, he grasped her arm in his hand and directed her through to one of the empty side rooms.

  “Well, it looks like I don’t have much choice.” Her flirtatious laughter erupted in fluttered bursts.

  He snapped the door closed behind them and crossed his arms over his chest, and her laughter choked to a standstill.

  “What exactly did you say to my grandmother?”

  “Your grandmother?” Genuine confusion flitted over her features leaving her forehead dipped in a frown. “I don’t believe I’ve met your grandmother, Jack, so…”

  As his alarm grew, so too his patience ran out. “You met her this morning when she came to see Mrs. Cooper.” They’d probably discussed what season was best to shackle him.

  Her face cleared. “I met a lady this morning while I checked on Mrs. Cooper. We exchanged some pleasantries and she introduced herself. She didn’t declare your relationship, but yes, I think she said she was a Swann. There’re a lot of you about.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes while she tapped her fingers against her lips. “Is there a problem? I can’t recall anything she may have taken as an insult.”

  “She never said…”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, and he was powerless to take back the hurt he’d already inflicted. With a smooth glide, she made her way to the door and swung it wide.

  “Perhaps you should see someone about that paranoia, Jack. Now I’m busy, I have a job to do. Get out of my hospital.”

  “Katie.”

  “Get. Out!” Her low command had a few passersby turning their heads.

  He should apologize, but the burn of humiliation squeezed his gut. “Katie…”

  “No, Jack. Leave now.”

  With quiet dignity, she slid the door closed behind him

  »»•««

  Well he’d sure as hell messed that up. If he could kick his own ass, he would.

  As it was, he sat in the sheriff’s car cursing himself for his sheer stupidity, both with his grandmother and Kate. His grandmother because he’d over-reacted and now she thought she was on to something. The next thing he knew, he’d be cornered. The woman would get her own way and he’d be trapped. Essentially the one thing he’d tried to avoid was introducing Kate to his family. Because he knew they’d love her.

  He’d messed up with Kate because, well hell he’d over-reacted with her too, and insulted her. She wasn’t stupid, she knew exactly why he avoided her meeting his family. And she was right, he was paranoid and stupid.

  Perhaps he needed to get them back on even footing. Step back, give himself a little distance. H
e’d take her the little present he’d bought and she’d laugh. She’d take it as an apology, and then perhaps he would try and work his shifts so he didn’t see her for a while so they could both regain the distance and equilibrium he needed so badly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Swept along with the rest of the crew from the hospital, Kate stepped inside Toe Tappers for the first time. She’d heard so much about the place she’d actually tried to avoid it. It sounded like a zoo. Some nights were karaoke or line dancing, others were live bands and parties. All were pick-up nights. Tonight though, there was a country band playing, and their singer was some guy called Sam whom she’d heard described as hot, cool, cute, sexy, and any other description in between, but without exception, every female she had met loved Sam, and it appeared he loved as many of them as he could possibly fit in to his tight schedule.

  So, here she was, on her own again. She knew Jack was working, and she hadn’t made any attempt to see him after their small contretemps two days earlier. After all, it appeared the more a woman ran after Jack, the harder Jack ran in the opposite direction. She was damned if she was going to run after him, no matter how much in love she was. If he had any idea how she felt about him, it would probably be the end of their relationship. Kate truly believed at some point he would realize he was already waist deep in a relationship. In the meantime, she was going to ignore him, because she still wasn’t over her little snit.

  The place wasn’t quite the spit ’n sawdust pit she’d imagined, in fact far from it. It was a large, rustic country music nightclub. Thin green neon strip lighting ran around the walls and lined the bar where it was joined by winter white lighting to illuminate the whiskey and bourbon bottles and entice the customers. Whiskey and bourbon were obviously their specialty, although Kate noted most of the customers, male and female alike, appeared to be drinking ice-cold beer. She idly wondered what the response would be when she asked for a glass of white wine.