He wrapped Champion’s reins around the pommel on his saddle, freeing his hands so he could button his lambs’ wool-lined coat, then adjusted the collar around his neck. He tilted his hat lower to protect his eyes from the stinging snow then unwrapped the reins from the pommel, gripping them tight in his gloved hands.
“Katie!” he shouted, but the wind drove the words right back to him and he shivered in the depths of his soul. Worry for Kathryne made him kick Champion’s sides a little harder. Without being able to see in front of her, she could amble off the relative safety of the road and become lost in the woods. He’d heard stories of such things happening. None of them had had a happy ending.
He nudged Champion a little faster and kept calling her name. Suddenly, Sarge barked then ran ahead, disappearing into what seemed like solid white as the snow pelted the ground.
Chase squinted and saw a dark shape take form. Coming closer. And the dark blur which he assumed was Sarge racing to meet it. “Katie!”
The shape stopped and stood utterly still. “Sarge!” He heard her yell as the dog jumped at her, almost knocking her down. “Chase?”
Relief surged through him, making him curse beneath his breath. She was safe. “Stay right where you are. Don’t move,” he yelled above the wind, but wasn’t surprised as she picked up her pace and started running toward him, the dog prancing in circles around her.
Chase brought Champion to a stop and slid from the saddle. Within seconds, he had his arms around her, holding her up as her knees buckled.
“You found me,” she whispered though her teeth chattered so hard, she could barely get the words out.
“Thank God.” He tightened his embrace. “Let’s get you home.” He helped her into the saddle then climbed up behind her, making quick work of unbuttoning his coat then pulling the edges around them both. “Keep this closed,” he instructed.
She drew the edges closer, tightening the suede around his back and shoulders. She snuggled closer to his body, the first touch of her cold back on his shirt-clad stomach making him wince. Now that she was safe within the circle of his arms, anger surged through him.
“What the hell were you doing going to Willow Creek by yourself? Were you not thinking at all, Katie? And look at you! No hat. Useless little pieces of cotton you call gloves.” He adjusted her shawl, pulling the thin fabric closer to her neck. “And this thing that wouldn’t keep a flea warm.”
“Don’t yell,” she begged between teeth that chattered so hard, he wondered how they remained in her mouth. “Cold.”
“I bet you’re cold. I’ve got a coat and gloves and I’m cold.” He released his breath in a white plume. “Aw, hell, Katie, you don’t know what thoughts went through my head when Old Blue returned to the livery without you. What happened?”
“Got…thrown,” Kathryne answered then lapsed into silence. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and tried to stem the flow of his anger. There would be time enough for her to tell him everything once she warmed up.
By the time they reached her cottage, more than two feet of snow covered the ground, the drifts higher against the east side of the house. The steady fall of white showed no sign of stopping, though the wind no longer howled and stung their faces with icy flakes. He tugged on the reins and brought them around to the back of the house, where the drifts were less deep. Champion would be sheltered from the elements beneath the small overhang until he could get Kathryne settled.
“I can’t…move,” she whispered, the tone of her voice frightened as he brought Champion to a halt. “I can’t feel…my legs.”
Chase slid from the saddle then reached up and drew her into his arms. Despite holding her and sharing his heat on the ride back to Crystal Springs, the violent shaking of her body continued. He carried her into the dark house, the eerie glow of the snow lighting his way.
Chase nudged a chair closer to the fireplace with his foot then gently released her. “Sit. Don’t move,” he ordered as he removed her shawl and replaced it with a crocheted afghan. Kathryne’s teeth still clicked together as she pulled the wool blanket around her shoulders. Sarge bustled into the parlor, shaking the snow from his coat, tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. He trotted up beside the chair and laid his big head on her lap.
Chase glanced at the dog and smirked as he removed his gloves and tossed them on top of the mantle then proceeded to stack wood in the fireplace. Neither of them spoke, but he was aware of her gaze on him, watching him until flames danced along the wood, spreading warmth and a reddish-golden glow throughout the room.
“Thank…you,” she sighed and leaned a little closer to the heat from the fire, the afghan around her shoulders loosening just a bit as she extended her still-gloved hands toward the flames.
He said nothing as he removed his coat and tossed it on the settee. “I’ll make some coffee.” He walked into the kitchen then poked his head around the corner. “Better yet, do you have any brandy? Or whiskey?”
“There’s a bottle of brandy in the cabinet by the sink,” she answered as she pulled the blanket closer. “For medicinal purposes.”
Chase shook his head as he watched her. “Damn fool woman,” he muttered as he turned around and bumped into a chair. “Damn fool me.” He struck a match and lit the lamp on the table so he could see then headed straight for the cabinet and the promised brandy.
He handed her the glass a moment later, filled more than halfway. “Here. Drink this.”
Kathryne took the offering, though her hands shook, and sipped at the warming liquor.
“More.”
She took a bigger swallow. Satisfied, Chase slipped into his coat then threw another log on the fire. Sparks exploded upward and the fresh wood caught the flames quickly. “I need to check on Champion.” He rested his hands on the arms of the chair and gazed into her eyes. “You are not to move. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he said with a sigh then gestured toward the glass in her hand. “Finish that. All of it.” He stood, but didn’t move for the longest time. She looked so small huddled in the chair, ears red, teeth chattering, hands wrapped around the glass held closely to her chest and yet, she still grinned at him.
Damn! He could have lost her. She could have frozen to death if he hadn’t found her when he did. After what he’d already lost, he couldn’t have borne it. His heart thumped in his chest. “Damn fool woman,” he repeated as he left her in front of the fireplace.
Sarge followed, prancing around his legs, tail fanning the air.
****
The brandy wasn’t working though pins and needles flared to life in her hands and feet as her circulation returned to normal. She shivered despite the fire blazing behind the grate. She’d never been so cold in her life. Or so frightened. Barely able to see through the blinding snow, the wind stealing her breath, her feet so numb she struggled to put one foot in front of the other, had been one of the scariest moments of her life. More so than when the Willow Creek boys had tried to push her into the alley, more so than when she’d been racing along the cliff above Dead Man’s Drop without a stagecoach driver.
A slow smile came to her lips as she finished the brandy in her glass.
Chase. Her knight in shining armor. Three times he had come to her rescue. Three times he’d saved her life.
She heard him come into the house, heard him muttering to himself about foolish choices and foolish women. In truth, she had been foolish. She’d had no business riding out to Willow Creek Ranch. What had she hoped to accomplish?
“It’s still snowing,” he said as he brought the bottle of brandy and another glass into the parlor. He poured more of the warming liquor into her glass. “Are you warmer now?”
“Yes, thank you,” she lied as another shiver violently rippled through her. The afghan slipped a little from her shoulders. As he would with a small child, Chase fixed it, drawing the warm wool closer to her neck. She had hiked up the front of her skirts to allow more heat on
her legs and for a moment, he seemed mesmerized by the ornate designs on her white stockings before his gaze fell on her shoes.
“Your shoes are wet,” he remarked, stating the obvious, as he squatted and removed them. His hands were hot compared to the numbing coldness of her toes as he massaged her feet through her thin stockings. “Why weren’t you wearing boots? Or a coat?” An exasperated sigh escaped him, so at odds with the warm glow in his soft gray eyes. “And while we’re at it, what the hell were you doing at Willow Creek? Don’t you know that’s a dangerous place to be?”
“I went to see Mrs. Kinsbrough. I thought she could do something about Shep Turner.” She relaxed against the back of the chair and placed her glass on the small table beside her, the heat of his hands doing far more to warm her than the brandy as he reached further beneath her skirts, found the bow of her garter and pulled. Kathryne sucked in her breath and held it as he rolled the stocking down her leg…expertly, as if he’d done the service many times before. He repeated the action with her other leg.
“What about Turner?”
“He’s still watching me.” She didn’t move, even though his touch was more than a bit inappropriate. Indeed, she didn’t object at all, caught as she was in the heat of his gaze and the fire warming her legs. Or perhaps the heat had nothing to do with the flames dancing in the fireplace and more to do with the softness of his eyes. “He was outside the school again, watching me through the window. I was tired of being afraid of him.”
“You should have told me.” He stood and leaned forward, his thumb caressing her jawline then rested his hand against the side of her face. He said not a word, but his expression changed. Concern made the corners of his eyes crinkle, made his brows draw together to form a deep furrow in his forehead. “You should have waited for me. Shouldn’t have gone to Willow Creek alone. Those men…” He ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign of his frustration. And fear. And something else.
There was nothing she could say. She couldn’t argue; he was absolutely right.
“I could have lost you, Katie. I…You…” His voice shook. The furrow on his forehead deepened as a flush stained his cheeks.
Oh, he was angry, angrier than she’d ever seen him. So angry, in fact, he could barely speak, but he tried, his voice tight and gravelly, his eyes flashing polished pewter as they glared into hers. “What if I hadn’t found you? Promise me you’ll— Aw, hell!”
Kathryne drew in her breath in a sharp gasp as he grabbed her by the arms, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He brought her up from the chair, pulling her closer to him, indeed, molding her against him as if he couldn’t hold her close enough.
When his lips brushed hers, there was nothing but tenderness in his kiss. And hunger. And need.
The afghan around her shoulders slipped to the floor. She barely noticed as his lips played over hers with a gentleness that seemed so at odds with his anger.
“Oh, Katie,” he whispered against her cheek, his lips touching her skin, his hot breath tickling her ear. There was something desperate in the way he held her in his powerful embrace, something frantic and urgent. “I could have lost you,” he repeated. Tears misted her eyes. He cared for her, had been worried about her.
Kathryne wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as a shudder rippled through him. “You didn’t lose me. I’m right here. I’m all right,” she whispered, trying so hard to reassure him. She could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, the pace quick and sure as he held her tighter.
Her words were not enough. His lips found hers once more, his kiss deepening, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth, leaving her breathless and wanting so much more. She was on fire—from the taste of him, the strength and power of his body, the heat he exuded. The coldness that seeped into her bones melted away, replaced by a surging blaze that raged through her veins, almost burning her from the inside out.
And still, he kissed her, his mouth demanding, yet gentle on her lips as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
His big, strong hands were magic as they caressed her back and shoulders through her clothing before he pulled the pins from her hair one by one, dropping them to the floor, releasing the heavy tresses to flow down her back. “You smell so good,” he whispered against her ear then chuckled lightly. The vibration of his laughter against her flesh made her shiver, made goosebumps pebble her skin that had nothing to do with coldness. Liquid fire pulsed through her veins and settled deep within her. “Like sugar cookies.”
She didn’t even feel it as he unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt. The material dropped to the floor to puddle around her feet beside the bed. Petticoats followed, a sea of white against the plum of her skirt. Her blouse came next, his fingers deftly unfastening the buttons. He pushed the edges of the fabric from her shoulders, planting small delicate kisses on her skin as each inch was revealed.
Kathryne held her breath as his eyes settled on the top of her breasts above the lace of her corset before his mouth and lips skimmed the delicate skin. Her breath released in a rush. Her back arched, baring more of her flesh to his heated touch.
Not once did his fingers become clumsy as he unhooked her corset and removed the stiff garment, tossing it on the floor. “You’re beautiful, Katie. Do you know how much I want you?”
He didn’t have to ask. She could tell by the passion flaring in his soft gray eyes, in the way he touched her, so gently she wanted to cry. He cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her chemise, his thumbs flicking over the taut peaks before he dipped his head and captured one tight crest in his mouth. Kathryne’s knees almost buckled from the sheer joy. Moisture gathered between her thighs, the musky scent filling the air.
“As much as I want you.” And she did want him, wanted all of him, with a certainty that both thrilled and frightened her.
He pulled the bow of her chemise and straightened the gathers then lifted the garment over her head before he gently tugged on the strings holding her drawers in place. The silky material floated down her legs with a soft whoosh before he laid her on the bed.
Kathryne had never been naked with a man and yet, she didn’t try to cover herself. The appreciation in his heated gaze warmed her, sending sparks of longing and anticipation singing through her veins. She watched him as he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the pile of clothing beside the bed, but closed her eyes as his hands dropped to the waistband of his trousers. “Look at me, Katie,” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
Though her face flamed, she opened her eyes. His body was beautiful—strong, vibrant, radiating power. Firelight danced on the light dusting of dark hair covering his broad chest, leading downward to the patch surrounding his manhood, which stood thick and erect. Kathryne sucked in her breath then opened her arms in invitation.
Chase joined her on the bed, his warm body covering hers, the hair on his chest tickling her already hard nipples as his mouth captured hers once more, teasing, coaxing, tasting.
This was no frantic fumbling in a carriage, as her first experience had been, leaving her guilt-ridden and ashamed and unfulfilled. This was different. Chase touched her as if he worshipped her, revered her, treasured her, couldn’t get enough of her softness and when his tongue laved her breast, his teeth gently grazing the taut peak, she nearly jumped off the bed.
Intense pleasure such as she’d never known shot straight through to her core. Her hands tangled in his thick hair, holding his head captive, as he gently suckled first one nipple then the other while his hand caressed every inch of her body.
His hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers parting her swollen flesh to slide into the sweet, slick center of her being. Kathryne gasped as her body tightened. Without knowing what she sought, only that the pleasure of his fingers on her, in her, spurred her on, she pushed into his hand, her hips moving in the rhythm he had set. Her breaths came in short, little gasps as the intense sensations grew. She was drowning and soaring at the same time and
a startled cry escaped her as she crossed the pinnacle of ecstasy. She shuddered beneath the force of her climax, but never had she felt so alive, so wanted and desired. Chase stared into her eyes, his lips parting in a slight smile before his mouth grazed hers. He positioned himself above her then slowly buried himself deep between her thighs.
Such sweet harmony filled her, such exquisite ecstasy, she wanted to cry with the sensations surging through her. Chase began a rhythm as old as time as he pulled away then sunk deep within her again. Her hips rose up to meet his, matching him stroke for stroke, her body tightening once more. Her hands clutched his backside, pulling him deeper within her, her legs wrapping around his, holding him. The coil deep within her grew taut, building, spiraling.
Such intense bliss had to be sinful, didn’t it? And wicked? And yet, she didn’t feel sinful or wicked because it was Chase making love to her. Indeed, she felt empowered and daring, confident and certain, driven by instinct and need for the man in her arms, in her body.
Chase’s muscles bulged, his arms rigid as he picked up his pace, driving deeper within her softness, faster, harder. She couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped her, nor her sudden gasp for breath as the sensations spiraled out of control.
Stars danced and sparkled in front of her eyelids as she burst into climax, blood sizzling through her veins, her body pulsing around him.
Complete.
The thought whispered through her mind, heart and soul.
Sweat gleamed on Chase’s forehead as his mouth dipped to hers. Their tongues tangled, breaths mingled before he groaned and sought his own fulfillment.
“Ah, my sweet Katie, what have you done to me?” he murmured as he moved his weight off her, gathered her in his arms and stroked her hair, his breathing returning to normal.
A Good Man for Katie Page 15