The Bond Unbroken

by Bond unbroken (NCP) (lit)

  Mitch watched as Betty left the dining room, went to the front desk, and spoke to the desk clerk. Noting the clerk's affirmative nod, Mitch turned back to his breakfast.

  Mitch couldn't believe it. If Katlin wasn't jealous of that poor, overworked, overweight woman, he'd eat his hat. While it amazed him, the thought also pleased him immeasurably. He also discovered his appetite for food which seemed to have deserted him since meeting the delectable Miss McKinnen had returned with a vengeance. Equaled only by his unquenchable thirst for Katlin herself.

  Seeing that Katlin appeared engrossed in the activity outside of the window, Mitch caught Ben's eye. Ben merely rolled his eyes heavenward and silently applied himself to finishing his breakfast. Seeing the wisdom in Ben's silence, Mitch followed suit, intent on satisfying one hunger at least, while fighting to hide the satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

  * * * *

  Rick Westfield stepped back into the shadows in the alley across the street from the Drover's Cottage and watched as the trio emerged from the hotel. It would have been all over by now if the bitch hadn't interfered. She was a complication no one could have anticipated. He knew for a fact she hadn't been with Mitch when he left Fort Hays. She'd just appeared on the trail. Who was she really, and who did they think they were fooling trying to pass her off as Ben Thompson's niece? Another complication. Taking out Mitch and his old man was one thing, but crossing a known gunfighter with Ben Thompson's reputation was another. Still, that's what money was for, to pay someone else to take the risks and do the dirty work.

  There was, however, one job he was saving for himself. The bitch was his. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so excited about teaching a female her place. Based upon the reports he'd received from his men and meeting her in the flesh, he suspected she wouldn't break easily, at least he hoped not. He wanted to prolong his enjoyment.

  "Meet her in the flesh," he chuckled under his breath at his wit as he reached down to rub the bulge straining the front of his jeans. That was exactly what he intended to do.

  * * * *

  Katlin, Mitch, and Ben were walking west on Texas Street toward the Bull's Head when a couple walked out of J. Kartofsky's Great Western Store and turned east, meeting the trio on the narrow board sidewalk. Clearly members of the so-called gentile society of Abilene, the man was dressed in a suit with a starched high-collared white shirt. A small man, not much taller than Katlin's own five feet four inches, he wore a fancy gold watch fob which was stretched across the front of his brocade vest, drawing attention to his rather obvious middle-aged paunch.

  The man planted himself directly in front of Katlin in the center of the side walk, his eyes raking her jean clad form with pious contempt as he held his ground, arrogantly expecting Katlin and her two much larger companions to walk into the street allowing their betters to pass.

  Katlin felt Mitch stiffen beside her, and she could sense his anger as he placed a firm hand on the small of her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Kat, the sanctimonious little pip-squeak isn't worth the effort, nor is he worth causing a scene we don't need."

  Katlin was inclined to agree, and started to step aside until something about the woman, obviously the man's wife, caught her attention. Standing slightly behind her husband, eyes downcast at the sidewalk as if hoping it would open up and swallow her to save her from further embarrassment, the woman appeared almost tragically frail. Unlike her husband's extravagant dress style, she wore a simple full-length dress of navy blue, trimmed only by a narrow band of lace at the cuffs and neckline. Even more than the simplicity of the woman's dress, there was an unmistakable attitude of fear surrounding the woman like an aura. Upon closer inspection, Katlin saw the darkening bruise beneath the woman's left eye which had almost been concealed by the shadow cast from the wide brim of the bonnet she wore.

  Ignoring the subtle pressure from Mitch's hand at her back, Katlin stepped forward and extended her hand toward the woman. "Hi, I'm Katlin McKinnen, and I'm new in town. Its nice to meet you Mrs. . . .?"

  The woman looked up, exposing a nasty black eye to the glare of the sunlight and to anyone else who might be interested enough to notice. She then looked to her husband, as if seeking permission to speak.

  "Good heavens," Katlin gasped, feigning surprise at the woman's injury. "Did you have an accident?"

  "She fell," snapped the husband.

  "Is that true ma'am? Did you fall?" Katlin asked, knowing in advance the woman wouldn't tell her the truth.

  Eyes downcast, her face once again cast into shadow, the woman answered so meekly Katlin could barely hear her, "Yes, I fell."

  Never one to suffer fools gladly, Katlin had zero tolerance for a man who abused a woman. She turned on the husband, favoring him with a dazzling smile calculated to disarm. She extended her hand toward him. "Mr....?"

  "Oh Lord," Mitch groaned softly, drawing a puzzled look from Ben who noted his friend's stance was one of a man preparing for trouble.

  Clearly bemused at having such a breathtaking smile bestowed upon him by such a beautiful woman, the little pip-squeak of a man stiffened his spine and squared his shoulders in an attempt to add a little height, and his chest puffed out as his lips curved into a welcoming smile.

  "Peabody, Clarence T. Peabody," he responded, extending his hand to shake Katlin's.

  "Believe me, it's a real pleasure, Mr. Peabody," Katlin responded sweetly as she doubled up her fist and sent a mean right cross into the left eye of the startled man who didn't have time to whimper before he went down.

  Standing over the downed man, Katlin offered, "Gee, I guess you fell too." She then stepped over him and cast a knowing wink in Mrs. Peabody's direction. Leaving the men to follow as they chose, Katlin crossed the street and continued what to all appearances seemed to be a leisurely stroll toward the saloon.

  Katlin knew she had allowed her intolerance to get the best of her common sense. She didn't regret her actions, and she'd be damned if she'd apologize for it. In her opinion, a punch in the eye was a whole lot less than what the little weasel deserved. Still, she wasn't so naive she expected there to be no resulting consequences. Mitch would be furious.

  Mitch looked at Ben who merely shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward.

  With an apparent helpless shrug, Mitch reached a hand down to help Mr. Peabody to his feet. "How did your wife get that black eye?" he asked casually.

  "How do you think she got it?" Peabody snapped. "She's my wife, and I smacked her. It's my right."

  Without another word, Mitch's fist flew forward into the dazed man's other eye. He too stepped over the downed Mr. Peabody with a wink toward the browbeaten woman as he followed Katlin toward the saloon, leaving Ben alone to handle damage control.

  Ben stood over the felled husband and warned in his most effective deadly soft voice, "You know who I am. If you're thinking of paying the marshal a visit, I wouldn't recommend it." Since the man didn't have another eye he could slug, he added, "And . . . I don't know how long my friends will be in town, but I don't plan on going anywhere. Unless you're stupid, I suggest you see that your wife doesn't have another accident. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes," was Mr. Peabody's muffled almost meek reply as he struggled to get to his feet without aid from Ben or his long suffering wife. The man stepped back slightly, cringing as if expecting another blow.

  "Ma'am," Ben tipped his hat to the wife who was trying without much success to hide her grateful smile, which was unnecessary because in his present condition Mr. Peabody wouldn't have been able to see anything clearly.

  As he walked toward the Bull's Head, Ben didn't know if they'd done her a favor, or if they had just made life even more unbearable for the poor woman. Nevertheless, he knew Peabody where he lived and where he worked. It wouldn't hurt to make an appearance from time to time, just to let the little weasel know someone was keeping an eye on the situation.

  Chapter Eight

  Sensing Mitch was hot on
her heels and thoroughly pissed by her actions, Katlin hurried through the batwing doors of the Bull's Head. She rushed up the stairs, hoping to put the relative security of a closed, locked door between them before he caught up with her. The rapid clip of his booted footsteps could be heard on the stairs as she fumbled with the key in the lock. She would have made it if Bart hadn't been in such a hurry to get into the room to retrieve the cursed ham bone, which gave Mitch time to get his boot in the doorway, preventing her from slamming the door between them.

  Recognizing the futility of pitting her strength against Mitch's in an effort to keep him out, Katlin released her hold on the door and quickly stepped back. The sound of the door smacking back against the wall as Mitch nearly fell into the room barely registered before he grabbed the door, slammed it closed behind them, and had her by the shoulders. He spun her around and pinned her back against the door, leaving her no option but to face the scalding fury in his eyes.

  "Are you out of your mind?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "What the hell are you trying to do, Kat? Have half the town of Abilene gunning for you?"

  Katlin felt suddenly weak in the knees in the face of his anger. She was equally furious at her vulnerability where Mitch was concerned. Her own temper rose in response. Emotionless mask gone, Katlin held her ground and faced him defiantly.

  The air between them was charged, giving Mitch the sensation of the calm before the storm.

  Despite her obvious anger, her tone was deceptively civil when she responded, "If you're waiting for an apology, Ranger Cameron, don't hold your breath. In my time, thousands of women are beaten and abused by husbands or lovers, and, out of those thousands, most of them go back to their abusers. Hundreds end up dead. And that is on a yearly basis, Mitch." Warming to the subject with a passion that left Mitch speechless, Katlin continued, barely drawing a breath, "It has only been in the past few years that domestic violence is finally being recognized as a crime, and police departments are no longer turning a blind eye to calls for help from battered women. You can't imagine what it's like, day in and day, out working with these women. Standing by helplessly while the majority refuse to press charges, knowing they will most likely end up in the hospital or dead." Katlin took a deep breath and finished with such quiet determination that left Mitch in no doubt he was glimpsing part of what made Katlin McKinnen such a rare and special woman. "If you think I will ever, and I mean ever, stand by and watch something like that without trying to do something about it, think again, because it will never happen. Maybe, just maybe, if someone recognized the problem in this century, the overwhelming statistics in my time wouldn't be so high."

  In the wake of Katlin's impassioned speech, Mitch's anger had long since dissipated, leaving in its wake a man who felt he had received a blow to the solar plexus. Had he actually ever thought Kat was emotionless? For that matter, had he ever felt so much passion for a cause that he took it as a personal responsibility to champion? That knowledge left him feeling almost humbled in the presence of someone who was not only willing but determined to try despite the overwhelming odds and statistics against her. What stunned him the most was the realization that he had fallen hopelessly in love with this fiery, pistol packing female from the future. When had it happened? He suspected it was the moment he found himself looking down the business end of her pistol and hearing her warning, "I'd hate to have saved your ass only to be forced to shoot you myself."

  Mitch pulled Katlin's surprisingly unresisting body into his arms, and the subtle scent of roses he associated with her surrounded him like a delicate cloud as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Ah Kat," he whispered on a sigh. "You can't save the world, darlin'."

  "I know that," Katlin answered, her words muffled against his chest before she pressed her lips to the region of his rapidly beating heart. "I can only try, one person at a time." She was having trouble thinking, difficulty articulating the words which seemed to be coming from someone else as she raised her head and met Mitch's heated gaze. It wasn't the heat of anger she saw in the darkening blue depths of his eyes. "If no one was willing to make an effort, if no one cares, what kind of world will we end up with?"

  They didn't break eye contact as her hands moved slowly up his chest, one arm went around his shoulder, her hand to the nape of his neck while her other hand rose to his lips. Mitch kissed her fingertips before he gently caught her middle finger between his teeth, teasing the tip with his tongue before he sucked her finger into his mouth. Katlin sucked in a gulp of air as she felt an answering tug in her womb. Her knees went weak, and she was sure she'd have fallen if he hadn't been holding her tightly against him. So tightly she could feel him growing hard and frighteningly large against her stomach. Katlin would have closed her eyes, but the intensity of Mitch's gaze refused to release her.

  Had he actually thought her eyes cold? Mitch felt he was drowning in the hot depths of turbulent green water, but he wasn't so far gone he hadn't recognized the sudden anxiety he'd seen there. He reached up and clasp her hand in his, and, with one last teasing nip with his teeth, he released her finger and placed a kiss in the palm of her hand. Moving her hand between them, he held it firmly against the erection straining painfully against the restriction of his jeans.

  Katlin didn't know what he was trying to accomplish, but, if he thought she would jerk away from him like some outraged Victorian virgin, he was in for a surprise. She curled her fingers around him, applying pressure as she pulled his lips down to hers. When his tongue slid between her lips, she began using the same sucking action he had used on her finger and was thrilled when she felt him throb against her hand. Katlin might be inexperienced, but she wasn't naive. She watched TV, she went to movies, she had read some incredibly explicit novels, and she had her erotic dreams of Matthew a.k.a. Mitch Cameron.

  Mitch broke off the kiss and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from him with a muffled groan, "Dear God, Kat, stop," He leaned his forehead against hers and struggled for breath. "You have no idea what you're doing to me. If we don't stop now, I won't be able to," he muttered.

  Katlin let her eyes travel down the length of him to where her hand had been until he stopped her, then looked back up at him. "Who's asking you to stop?"

  Mitch was fighting a losing battle, and Kat wasn't making it easier. "Do you know what you're saying?"

  Katlin met and held his uncertain gaze, and, for the first time in her life, she held nothing back. "I know our time together is uncertain. I know that no matter what happens, I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting what I didn't do. Regretting the memories we didn't make. I know I love you, Mitch Cameron, and nothing in my life has ever felt so right. Does that answer your question?"

  As Katlin watched, her heart lurched painfully in her chest as a fine sheen of tears clouded Mitch's eyes. "I've never said this to another human being, I didn't expect I ever would, but I love you too. Marry me."

  "What?" Katlin gasped, not daring to believe what she was hearing.

  "I mean it, Kat. I don't care if we only have another week, a month, a year, or a lifetime. I want that time to be spent with you as my wife."

  Katlin's eyes burned, her throat tightened as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The dam broke, and the tears held back by unending years of hurt began to flow. Tears of absolute joy and also of sorrow because neither of them knew just how long they might have.

  "Yes," was her choked reply.

  Her tears nearly did him in. Even though they were happy tears, at least he hoped they were, seeing her cry nearly broke his heart. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and was shocked to note his hand trembled as he reached out to wipe away her tears. "Yes?" he asked almost in disbelief. He'd heard her the first time, but he needed to hear it again.

  "Yes, yes, yes!" Katlin laughed through her tears as she threw herself into his arms. "I'll marry you. Today, tomorrow, the day after, or whenever you want."

  Reluctantly, he forced himself to pull away and ho
ld her at arms length. "I want you, Kat. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life." He looked around the room to see sunlight streaming through the window. Bart was lying on the floor gnawing on a ham bone, and any minute now he expected Ben to come storming through the door to save Katlin from a fate worse than death. He took a deep shuddering breath and said what he really didn't want to say. "But this isn't the time or the place. When I make love to you, I want to feel like we have the entire night, hell, I want to feel like we have days to explore each other. I want our first time together to be so special the memory will be something we can carry with us, no matter what the future holds."

  Katlin's voice caught on a sob she was attempting to hold back. He really loved her. This big hulking brute of a hardened Texas Ranger was the sweetest, most wonderful man she had ever known, and she loved him more at this moment than she thought it was possible to love another human being. "Oh, Mitch," was all she capable of saying. Once again Mitch wiped her tears away. Damn it, she never cried! But once she's started, she was turning into a blubbering idiot.

  Mitch pulled her to him and leaned down to kiss away her remaining tears. "If I don't leave now, I'm going to blow all my noble intentions to hell." He looked down between them, and Katlin followed his gaze to the noticeable bulge in his jeans. He favored her with a rueful shrug and a cheeky grin. "What can I say? The damn thing has a mind of its own. I think it's been in that condition since I met you."

  Katlin couldn't resist a chuckle. "Getting uncomfortable is it?" There was no way she'd admit that since meeting him she seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal herself.

  "Uncomfortable is an understatement," he admitted. "I've decided to quit fighting it and just buy looser jeans."

  "Don't you dare," Katlin insisted. "I like seeing you in that condition, knowing I'm responsible. It turns me on."

  Her teasing remark brought an involuntary groan from Mitch. "Sadistic little wench."