Rough Wrangler, Tender Kisses

by Jill Gregory

  “Mr. Barclay,” the other man countered with a faintly mocking smile, “what makes you think I’m interested in buying?”

  Caitlin watched him take Wade’s measure at the same time that Wade took his. Raleigh’s lip curled slightly, but Wade’s face gave nothing away.

  “Well, Raleigh,” Seth Weaver interjected, “the truth is, I just told Wade about the reason for your business in Hope.” He turned his close-set, brown eyes upon Caitlin. “Drew represents an eastern business syndicate interested in acquiring a sizable cattle ranch in the territory,” he explained. “His outfit already owns cattle interests in Arizona and in Montana. But as I told him this afternoon during our meeting at the bank, out of all the ranchers in Silver Valley, the Barclays, the Tylers, and the Lassiters are least likely to sell. Matter of fact,” he added with a pointed look at the easterner, “I made it clear that I couldn’t see any circumstance under which Wade or his brothers would ever sell.”

  “It’s true, Barclay. He did explain exactly that.” Drew Raleigh nodded. “But he didn’t mention Miss Barclay here—er, I mean, Miss Summers. You two share ownership of the ranch—so you must be . . . related?” he asked, fixing Caitlin with a charming smile.

  “No. We are not related—not in any way,” Caitlin said vehemently. The others guests stared, surprised at the forcefulness of her tone, but Wade simply glanced at her with his usual nonchalance.

  “And personally,” she rushed on, more quietly, “I would be delighted to sell my share of Cloud Ranch, Mr. Raleigh—if circumstances allowed. Unfortunately, they do not.”

  “So in other words, don’t waste your time trying to sweet-talk her into it.” Wade reached for Caitlin’s arm as if to draw her away but she pulled back from him.

  Drew Raleigh’s hazel eyes were riveted upon Caitlin’s face. “If I ever tried to sweet-talk anyone so lovely, it wouldn’t be over a piece of property,” he replied softly.

  Caitlin read the apparent admiration in the man’s eyes. She was unmoved by it. She had met Drew Raleigh’s type hundreds of times before. It wasn’t his too-obvious charm, but Wade’s snort beside her that made her murmur, “You’re too kind, Mr. Raleigh. Thank you.”

  Wade grimaced.

  “I insist you call me Drew.” The easterner’s smile widened. “Where do you hail from, Miss Summers?”

  “It’s Caitlin, remember? And I’d much rather hear about you.”

  They began to chat easily, but all the while Caitlin was intensely aware of Wade’s glance on her. There was ice in his eyes. And all through dinner, and the card games and conversation that followed, he ignored her and spent his time joking with Seth Weaver, talking cattle prices with Frederick Porter, or complimenting Luanne and her aunt on their cooking.

  Shortly before the evening drew to a close, Caitlin noticed she was missing her reticule. She remembered going into the small back sewing parlor with Amelia Porter for a moment to look at a dress pattern the woman had heard was all the rage in the East, and wondered if she’d left it there, so she slipped down the hall to look. To her relief, the reticule was lying upon the cushions of the small tufted sofa. But as she started back toward the front of the house, she heard a sound to her right, and turned.

  She was facing the kitchen doorway. And there, upon the threshold, she saw Wade and Luanne standing as close as two candles melted side by side. Luanne’s arms were tight around his neck and Wade’s hands were at the schoolteacher’s waist. As Caitlin watched in shock, Luanne lifted her face to his and they kissed.

  Chapter 12

  Caitlin’s reticule slipped from her fingers. It hit the floor with a thump, and Wade pulled back from Luanne with a start.

  His eyes narrowed as they focused on Caitlin, pale and frozen only a few feet away. For one agonizing moment she couldn’t tear her gaze from his as silence seemed to thunder around them. Then she heard Luanne murmur and pull away, Wade’s arms dropped to his sides, and the dark spell was broken. Sick and furious, Caitlin snatched up her reticule and fled down the hall.

  “Caitlin, wait!” Wade’s voice called after her, but Caitlin only ran faster. She bolted toward the parlor so quickly she collided with Winnifred Dale as the woman stepped out into the hall.

  “Oh!!! My dear, excuse . . .” She stared into Caitlin’s parchment-white face. “Heavens, child, whatever is wrong? You look like you’re going to swoon.”

  “No, no, of course not, I . . . never swoon. It’s only that . . . I have a headache and I . . . I believe Wade might wish to stay and visit longer with the Porters, so I was wondering if perhaps the Weavers would be kind enough to drive me home—immediately.”

  “Of course, my dear. I’ll ask them this very moment.” Winnifred studied her anxiously. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling poorly. Just give me a moment to find Edna and—”

  “If I had a buckboard, I’d be honored to take you home, Caitlin.” Drew Raleigh had come up behind Winnifred and his hazel eyes lighted on Caitlin with concern. “Unfortunately, I came on horseback this evening. Won’t you let me escort you to a chair until the Weavers are ready to leave? May I bring you a glass of brandy?”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Wade’s voice cut in from behind her. Caitlin whirled around.

  Grim and unsmiling, he strode toward her and caught her arm. Deliberately, he hooked it through his. “Sorry to have kept you waiting. Let’s go.”

  “I beg your pardon.” She pulled her arm free and met his gaze squarely, her green eyes dark with anger. “I haven’t yet said my good nights.”

  “Say ’em then.”

  “I will say them when I’m ready.”

  “I suggest you get ready now.” Tension crackled through the air between them and Winnifred glanced from one to the other in amazement. Drew Raleigh watched the exchange in silence.

  Chaos churned through Caitlin and it was all she could do to hold her gaze steady, directed right at Wade Barclay and his icy blue eyes. She would not look away first—she had done nothing to be ashamed of. But apparently he didn’t feel he had either because his stare was every bit as hard and steady and relentless as hers.

  It was Winnifred who broke the deadlock—she tugged Caitlin away to bid farewell to the Porters. And shortly after that, Caitlin found herself stuck. Stuck in the buggy beside a man she detested, beneath the shimmer of moonlight and a darkness rich with the fragrance of wildflowers and pine. Neither of them spoke until they were nearly at Cloud Ranch.

  “Reckon there’s something I ought to explain.”

  She nearly shrieked at the calm tone with which he said those words.

  “Really?” She put all the haughtiness she could into the word. “I can’t imagine what that might be.”

  “Let me make it clear for you then,” he continued. “Under no circumstances are you to have any dealings whatsoever with Drew Raleigh.”

  Drew Raleigh! A fog of red fury swept across her eyes. “You want to discuss Drew Raleigh?” she bit out, flabbergasted.

  “Of course I don’t. He’s the last thing I want to discuss. I’m just telling you to steer clear of the man.”

  “You don’t have a right to tell me anything, Mr. Barclay. Anything at all. And the only man I intend to steer clear of is you!”

  “Now why is that? Is it because of that . . . mistake . . . that happened between us last night?”

  “Obviously. And apparently you made another ‘mistake’ tonight,” she retorted. “With Luanne Porter.”

  “That wasn’t a mistake. I meant to kiss her,” Wade said matter-of-factly.

  Caitlin turned to stare at him, anger vying with jealousy in her chest. His darkly handsome face wore a neutral expression as he looked straight ahead at the trail, but she saw the tension in his shoulders and in those big hands that so expertly held the reins.

  “Then I pity the poor woman!” she exclaimed.

  “She seemed to enjoy it well enough. So, for that matter,” he glanced coolly over at her, “did you.”

  She didn’t know whet
her to scream or slap him. Instead she clenched her hands into fists and scooted as far away from him as the buggy would allow. “Really? I can’t recall.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “That’s right. I tend to block unpleasant experiences from my mind. It’s much easier than dwelling upon them. So whatever happened between you and me . . . whatever mistake you made, might never have happened as far as I’m concerned. It really is only a vague, unsavory blur.”

  To her astonishment, he pulled the horses up, halting them so suddenly she lurched in the seat. The dark night was thick and dense about them, the trees, moon, and stars their only company.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Refreshing your memory,” he said, hauling her into his arms. Her tiny gasp of surprise only made him gather her closer against him. As her eyes widened, and she began to struggle, he slanted his mouth down on hers, tasting the dewy rose lips that had been haunting him night and day.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Not that other time, not tonight. But this exquisite, irascible angel had a way of getting under his skin like nothing else. “So you’ve forgotten what it felt like when I kissed you,” he muttered, and she shivered in his arms.

  “Y-yes.”

  “And none of this seems familiar?”

  “N-no . . . not the least little b—”

  He kissed her again. She tried to escape but stopped with a small helpless moan as his warm lips captured hers and a sweet dazzling pleasure spun through her.

  “Don’t you even remember this part?” His voice was low, hoarse, as for one instant Wade lifted his head.

  “Mmm . . . no . . . maybe . . .”

  “I sure as hell do.” The next kiss was even deeper, even more intense. And then she melted against him, her lips catching fire along with his, seeking his with soft, aching welcome.

  A kiss hotter than fire rocked them both. Wade couldn’t have stopped now if his life depended on it. She was in his blood—her taste, her scent—and there might have been only the two of them in all of Wyoming—in all of the earth.

  One kiss led to another, and then another, and then his hands began to slide over her, caressing her, stroking the lush shape of her hips even as his mouth sought and conquered hers, eliciting small breathless gasps and deep kisses from her, kisses so ardent and intoxicating that he burned with wanting.

  “Caitlin, what are you doing to me?” he groaned, his lips grazing the slender column of her throat. Then his hand swept up to that perfect gold chignon, his fingers resting gently against the plaits and the pins.

  “N-no . . . Wade, don’t!”

  His chest felt on fire as he heard her say his name, and even his heartbeat had speeded up in a way that had never happened when he faced snakes or bobcats or ruffians spoiling for a fight in the saloon.

  “Can’t help it,” he growled, and then as one arm clamped around her waist, his fingers closed upon one of those damned hairpins. “Been wanting to do this for a long time . . .”

  His touch was gentle but deft as he undid the pin—two, three, four of them—and tossed them into the night. Rich gold curls spilled down in a riotous tumble and sunshine met moonlight as Wade buried his fingers in the vibrant curls and kissed Caitlin with a fierce tenderness that came from someplace deep inside of him he’d never known existed before.

  She mewed against his lips, then pressed herself against him, their bodies fitting together, the heated perfume of her like a sensual cloud that filled his senses.

  He thought he’d die of pleasure when her sweet mouth parted to welcome his tongue and he delved deeper within her. It was almost heaven . . . but not quite. What he really wanted was to shed her of that gorgeous gown, and take her in the moonlight, kiss every inch of her, and devour her once and for all so he could stop dreaming about her.

  Then things would go back to normal, he was certain, and he could stop thinking about her night and day. His fingers tangled in her hair, caressing the silken strands, and then slid downward. Tension and desire pounded through him as his fingers closed gently over her breast. She gasped against his lips, quivering for an instant with a shock of pleasure—but then, suddenly, she stiffened and drew back.

  “No!” It was a whisper. And then, as if someone had broken a magic spell, she yanked away, flushed and trembling and staring at him with panic shining in her eyes, right alongside the shimmer of passion. “No!”

  Wade forgot his own needs and urges and felt a sudden astonishing urge to soothe her.

  “It’s all right, princess. We’ll call things off—for now. If that’s what you want—”

  “What I want!” Her voice was a breathless squeak. Her flushed face had gone pale in the moonlight. “Since when has it mattered to you—to anyone—what I want! It didn’t matter to Alec—or to Dominic Trent,” she cried bitterly, “and you—you have kept me on Cloud Ranch against my will from the moment I arrived. You don’t care what I want!”

  He held up both hands in the air, concerned because he could see she was trembling all over and trying like hell not to cry. “Easy,” he said quietly, speaking the way he had to that wild filly Nick had captured a few summers back and brought in for taming. “Who’s Alec—and who’s Dominic Trent?”

  “None of your business—but you’re as bad as they are!”

  Wade dropped his hands, studying her panicked face. “Sounds like they hurt you, Caitlin. I’d never do that.”

  “You already have!” she flung at him, touching her swollen lips, but then wished she could bite back the words.

  “How?” he asked sharply.

  “You kept me from returning to Becky—she needs me. I have to take her away, we have to run away before . . .” She caught herself and felt the blood drain from her cheeks as she realized what she’d said. “And you k-kissed me!” she rushed on accusingly.

  “That hurt?”

  “You didn’t mean it. You didn’t kiss me because you . . . like me . . . or anything. You and Luanne . . . I saw you . . . so why?”

  “Why.” He suddenly gritted his teeth. The expression in her eyes tore the honesty from him. “Damned if I know. But I’ve been wanting to do it ever since that night I found you at the stream.”

  “Why?”

  “The same reason, I reckon, that you wanted to kiss me back.”

  “I didn’t! I never—”

  Quick as lightning, but gently, he caught her wrists and tugged her closer. “Do you really want me to prove it to you . . . again? Because if we start, I don’t know how easy it will be to stop, not for either one of us.”

  Their eyes met and locked. The same reason she had wanted to kiss him back. Caitlin didn’t even dare contemplate what that reason might be.

  “Damn you!” she cried. She broke free and shoved against him. Tears shone in her eyes but not a single one escaped to slip down her cheek.

  Before Wade knew what was happening she had flung herself from the buggy and was stumbling across the tall grass. She took off running, moonlight silvering the spring green gown that billowed behind her, her hair streaming wildly nearly to her waist.

  She ran straight toward Cloud Ranch, like some wild, beautiful creature of the night, and she never slowed or looked back.

  Wade watched her go, his chest tight, his arms aching. Aching to hold her again, he realized in alarm.

  What the hell did he think he was doing?

  He couldn’t tell her that he’d only kissed Luanne tonight because he was desperate to stop thinking about her. That he’d thought—hoped—that when he and Luanne kissed he would forget all about the kiss he and Caitlin had shared.

  But he hadn’t forgotten. He couldn’t. And he felt lower than a snake about Luanne. But the whole time he’d been kissing her, it was Caitlin who had filled his thoughts.

  Damn everything to hell. Wade slammed a hand against the seat of the buggy, startling the horses. Reese had entrusted him with his daughter, and Wade had promised to take care of her—but he hadn’t counted on her st
irring up so many different emotions in him. He was a calm man, a steady man, that’s what everyone said.

  And lately, he’d been behaving like a lout and a fool.

  He watched her run, lovely as a vision in a dream, but retreating further and further from him. He wanted to hold her close but Caitlin Summers was running away from him.

  And from what else?

  “We have to run away,” she’d said of her and her sister.

  From whom? What? Those men whose names she’d blurted out?

  He had a feeling that wasn’t all. Caitlin Summers, for all her beauty, sophistication, and courage, was running from herself.

  Chapter 13

  For a whole week Caitlin avoided Wade. She came down to breakfast after he had already left to begin the day’s work, she busied herself in her room when he returned for lunch, and at dinnertime, she carried a tray up to her room and spent the evenings reading or writing to Becky.

  It was branding time and he was busy—he made no effort to seek her out. For which she was grateful, she told herself as she stood at the window one afternoon staring out at the empty corrals. Branding was done—the men were all out doing various chores, Dawg was chasing a squirrel toward the stream, and barking, in the way of dogs, as if his life depended on it, and she was restless.

  She hadn’t ridden alone since the day the rustlers had chased her, even though, just as Wade had predicted, Star had returned from her adventure in the foothills all on her own. It’s high time I stop cowering here in the ranch house, Caitlin decided suddenly.

  Picking up her letter to Becky, she contemplated it. She’d written to her sister every day, but still hadn’t received an answer to any of her correspondence. Biting her lip, she decided to ride into Hope this very afternoon to mail it, and to see if at last Becky had written back.

  The gang of rustlers appeared to have left—there hadn’t been a sign of them since that awful day when she’d come upon them—so there really was no danger, she told herself. Except perhaps from wolves, snakes, or bears, she reflected as she drew the strings of her Stetson close under her chin and headed downstairs, her plum-colored cotton riding skirt rustling about her ankles.