Beware the Ranger (Texas Lawmen Book 1)

by Debra Holt

  “I’m sorry.” Kaitlyn cleared her throat. It was now or never for her to get the ghosts between them laid to rest. Don’t let me screw this up. She took another moment to look over the valley below them, her words weighing heavy in her mind. “Please let me finish before you say anything.”

  Clay sat up, his arms clasped around his knees, just a foot of space separating the two of them on the blanket as they sat side by side. He had steeled himself for whatever might be coming. He kept his gaze fixed on a distant point, giving her the silence she wanted.

  “I need to say I’m sorry that I seemed so ungrateful, even hateful at times, since we arrived. That’s not me. That’s not how I want to come off. I realize you had no plans to seek me out or have me ever come to your ranch. Gran put all that in motion. You are a ranger and duty is everything to you and keeping your word to Gran… I understand that. And I have no excuse for the way I behaved and remarks I made about your family. I can’t begin to know the pain of your loss and I am so truly sorry.”

  Her words came faster now as her courage was waning. “I know you don’t talk about it but I had no way of knowing that you had suffered such a loss or I would never have said anything remotely like I did. Losing someone you care about… someone who you gave your heart to… well that is an indescribable pain. I can only imagine.” She wasn’t gutsy enough to let on she knew from her own experience when she lost him. She needed some shred of pride left. Besides, he wouldn’t be interested in what he had already labeled a crush a long time ago. “I think we should be able to put the past behind us and get along, since Gran seems to be a permanent fixture in your family’s daily life. We’re bound to find ourselves in close proximity again at some point in the future.”

  She watched him in silence. Kaitlyn studied his profile as he sat so close to her yet so distant. Whatever his thoughts were after her words, she couldn’t tell. She began to wonder if he would make any comment. A minute or two passed before he spoke.

  “It was a long time ago, Kaitlyn,” he began, his words coming out with care. Never one to talk about his emotions, it appeared difficult for him to voice what he needed to say. “It was a bad time. I should have done a better job of protecting my family. I thought I had done all the right things, but I failed. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never forgive myself for some of the things in my past and that includes hurting you.” He looked over at her for the first time, and she could see the pain in his eyes. It was genuine and it was raw.

  Kaitlyn could not stop herself. Reaching out her hand, her fingertips gently touched the side of his face, the look in her eyes hopefully more eloquent than any words she might find.

  Clay turned his head toward her and his mouth came into contact with the palm of her hand. His hand rose to capture hers and hold it when she would have withdrawn from the sudden contact.

  Kaitlyn did not pull away from his touch.

  “What happened between us was a long time ago. It feels like almost another lifetime. There’s no comparison. You lost the person you loved the most in the world.” Harder words she had never had to speak.

  Nothing mattered but the fact that this man was hurting and she only wanted to make it better for him. In an instant, Kaitlyn knew with amazing clarity that she had lied to herself. She thought she could hate him. She had left Texas behind a dozen years before, but in that moment the truth won out, she had also left her heart. She thought she had forgotten him, relegated him to the past. But she had not done that. He had simply been in a quiet place inside her… waiting. She would never be rid of him. That was a fact she needed to own. She fought this man because he held her heart and she didn’t know how to get it back.

  Clay’s deep caramel gaze met and held hers. The air charged around them.

  “I lost more than you know, Kat. But, sometimes, if a person is very, very lucky, they do get a second chance to find their happiness. Do you believe in second chances?”

  Second chances. Did that mean he was ready to live his life again? Could he love again? Dare she hope again? Could she trust her heart not to be broken again? Her mouth felt dry and her palms were clammy. Kaitlyn didn’t want the moment to shatter as so many had between them.

  Her words came out just above a whisper. “I would like to think so.”

  It was so much harder to breathe, due to the fact he still had her hand in his, but now his thumb began making slow circles across the skin of her palm. His touch was having an effect on her thinking capabilities—she couldn’t. Clay’s gaze held hers captive. Kaitlyn could not have broken away if she had wanted to. In slow motion, she watched him as he raised his arm and reached his hand to gently cup her chin.

  The moment was so fragile she didn’t dare breathe lest it shatter like a piece of fine crystal. Clay brought his head closer to hers. Kaitlyn watched in fascination as his mouth moved to within inches of her own. The warmth of his breath against her skin was hypnotic. She would die soon if he didn’t kiss her.

  Clay’s lips touched hers—lightly, with a gentleness that made her wonder for a moment if it was real. Then he increased the pressure as his mouth moved over hers. A low moan came from one of them. Her? Him? There was no time to analyze. Moving his free hand, he cupped the other side of her face, allowing him to take more control over the kiss. The world stood quietly around them while fires flared from buried embers that were more than ready to burst to life again.

  Kaitlyn’s mind swirled and dipped and in a vortex of emotions… with one recurring thought… Clay was kissing her and she never wanted it to end. Even after all the years, his touch was even more hypnotic than before. Her body moved toward his embrace.

  *

  There was a loud, impatient snort from one of the horses. The sudden rustling of wind through the leaves above their heads broke into the moment. Clay pulled back, breaking the contact. The moment shattered as he lifted his head away from hers with great difficulty. His mind focused and looked in the direction of the animals. The breeze was growing into a wind. Tilting his chin, he rose off the blanket and stood as his eyes scanned the sky. The white puffy clouds had thickened and he could see a dark line of clouds moving toward them from the southwest.

  “We need to move fast. We’re about to be in for a storm.” Clay saw Kaitlyn was already moving to do just that.

  They finished packing up the leftovers and replacing everything into the bags. Hastening to the horses, Kaitlyn threw on the bags, cinching the leather straps holding them to the saddle. Scooping up his hat, he planted it on his head as he began rolling up the blanket as he strode over to where Kaitlyn was already mounted. She took the blanket from him and laid it across the saddle mantel in front of her.

  Clay was on his horse in one movement. “Follow me. I don’t think we can outrun it, but I know a place we can shelter until it passes.”

  The horses flew across the ground—Clay in the lead and Kaitlyn close behind. They hadn’t gone far when the sky darkened overhead, blocking out the last of the sunlight and the wind began to move through the trees and across the grasses in growing waves. The first wind clouds—lighter in color than the dark gray ones behind them—were overtaking them on the ground. The blustery currents brought the smell of impending raindrops. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder could be heard. That meant lightning was at hand.

  *

  A slice of fear swept through her body. Kaitlyn hoped they wouldn’t have far to go. Being caught outside in a lightning storm was one’s worst nightmare on horseback.

  A few moments later, the first large drops, cold and stinging on her arms and face. With a louder clap of thunder, the rain began to pour from the sky, soaking them and the horses in a matter of a few minutes. Lightning crackled close by. Kaitlyn’s heart pounded in unison with the horse’s hooves. A couple minutes later, the outline of a small wooden building came into view and immense relief filled her. Between the rain and wind, she could barely make out what appeared to be an old line shack with a lean-to for shelteri
ng horses at the side. She didn’t care what it was as long as the roof had no holes and they were out of the lightning.

  They slowed their mounts, drawing up close to the porch’s overhang. “Get inside,” Clay shouted at her across the wind. “I’ll see to the horses.”

  She tossed him the reins and ran up the steps to the porch. She placed her hand on the door, pushing it open. An odor of damp mustiness hit her as she stepped across the threshold. Kaitlyn looked up in the dim light from the doorway and was relieved to see there appeared to be no leaks over her head. Looking around, she spied a single light switch by the door; she gave it a flip—nothing. Great. Kaitlyn rubbed her arms. She realized how soaked she was and how cold she was becoming. A shiver went down her back. You don’t like the weather in Texas; hold on a second, it’ll change. So much for their spring day. Heavy boots sounded on the porch behind her. Clay stepped inside; his hand going to the switch.

  “Don’t bother—I tried that already,” Kaitlyn spoke, a hint of tremor in her voice.

  She crossed her arms across her chest and tried to find some warmth. Clay muttered something and went past her to the corner of the room. He was far more acquainted with the shadows of the room. Tossing his rain-soaked hat onto the small wooden dinette table, he went down on one knee in front of the old rock fireplace where there was already wood stacked inside.

  One of the rules of range living was that one left the cabin ready for the next person and that included wood ready for warmth and cooking. Clay took some kindling out of the box next to the hearth and some matches, too. Kaitlyn watched as he quickly and efficiently had the beginnings of a fire in almost no time at all.

  “Remind me to have you on my team if I’m ever on one of those reality shows where you have to build a fire or face starvation.” Her attempt at lightness ended on another shiver.

  Clay stood and quickly moved around her. An old wrought iron bed stood against the far wall. With a jerk, he stripped it of the top quilt. He stepped up and brought it to wrap around her shoulders, closing it tightly around her, his hands resting just under her chin. His touch increased the shivers she was feeling but for a different reason than the cold.

  “Let me get some more light in here. You sit beside the fire.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but pushed her gently until she was seated on a low stool close to the growing flames. Kaitlyn watched in silence as he found a kerosene lantern on a shelf in a cupboard. A match was struck and a soft glow illuminated the corners of the small room.

  “We have the basics—all a cowhand would need to eat and sleep with a roof over his head and then be on his way again.”

  The wind was howling outside and Kaitlyn pulled the quilt tighter. Her mind clicked on the horses. “The horses—will they be okay?” Concern tinged her voice.

  Clay set the lamp in the middle of the old table and came to squat in front of her seat. Kaitlyn could only imagine how she must resemble a drowned rat with hair plastered to her head and little, if any, remaining makeup. With the onslaught of the rain, her sun hat had been little protection. If he noticed, he was too much of a gentleman to mention it.

  His voice was as soft as the look in his eyes when he smiled at her. “They’re inside the pen with its lean-to roof and out of the rain. It’s not them I’m worried about—it’s you in those soaking wet clothes. Fine protector I am, getting us caught out in the storm like a tenderfoot. My only excuse is I was sidetracked by my companion.”

  Her pulses matched the speed of a runaway horse.

  Memories of what had happened just before they were interrupted came flooding back. Kaitlyn was no longer cold.

  “Up you go.” His hands were at her waist as he brought her to stand in front of him. His tone changed. It was more businesslike as he took charge. “Turn around and go through that little door you see right in front you. There’s a small bath area. Take off your wet clothes and hand them to me.”

  She whirled around and looked at him. “I don’t think I need to take off my clothes.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re wet and cold. Now don’t be childish about it. You can wrap this quilt around you. I’ll hang your clothing next to the fire. They’ll be dry in no time. Now scoot. Or do you need help?”

  His devilish grin and raised eyebrow made her immediately turn back around, and move quickly to the door. Kaitlyn was glad to shut it behind her, but not before she heard his low chuckle. He was having fun at her expense. Childish was she? Well she was a grown up now and no fainthearted female. She’d show him.

  *

  Turning back to the fire, Clay looked down at his own garments which were fairly wet also. He should have known better, and not got them caught out in the afternoon thunderstorm. His only excuse was he had been too occupied with other things. The first distraction had been when Kaitlyn had turned her sparkling smile on him, the laughter lighting her eyes as she reigned in her horse after their race. He had caught a glimpse of the Kat he used to know, the one who had stolen his heart. Then they had kissed and he had lost all thought as to time, place… weather. It had been a rather abrupt ending but he needed to get them to safety as quickly as possible.

  Adding another log on the fire before he stood, he began to unbutton his shirt. Maybe the storm wasn’t such an unwelcome intrusion after all. It meant he had more time to spend with her before reality would come crashing in on their return to the house. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind warning him about playing with fire.

  The shirt was hung over the makeshift clothes line stretching from the edge of the chimney to the cabinet over the sink. Clay rummaged in another drawer and found a couple of old towels, both slightly frayed, yet clean. He used one to run over his damp chest and arms and to soak up what he could from his hair. With the other towel warming on the line, he sat on the stool and used the toe of one boot to help ease off the other one. With the second boot gone, he quickly shed the socks, and added them to the clothesline. His jeans—well they would have to wait. He moved to stand in front of the fire, using the warmth to help with the drying of the denim.

  One hand leaned on the warm stones above the fireplace while the fingers of his other hand tucked into the belt loop of his jeans. Clay gazed down into the flames hoping for a sign of some sort, some insight of wisdom as to how this situation with Kaitlyn could be resolved. How could one overcome twelve years of lies and misunderstandings? Or, was he foolish to even try? And the situation they were now in was precarious at best… alone and with Kaitlyn taking her clothes off in the next room. Smart, Morgan. How much more could a man take? He had to hold on to his control and not overstep and push her farther away. Easier said than done. He searched for some answer but none came. Outside, the rain continued to pelt down and thunder rumbled. He was at least grateful they were close enough to this old line shack to make it in time before the lightning increased.

  Clay had wanted to be alone with Kaitlyn today—well this was certainly alone. When he planned the ride and picnic, he had no idea Mother Nature would help him out. It was a dangerous line he was walking… a slip either way and it could all be over. The thought brought a half smile to his mouth. Of course, this just made things that much more complicated. Here he was trying to keep his wits about him and a gorgeous, achingly desirable woman was behind that door at the moment taking her clothes off. He blocked his mind from bringing forth the memory of the last time she had stood before him without clothing. This could be a big mistake. He was a man… flesh and blood. He wasn’t a saint.

  The creak of old wood brought his glance immediately to the door. Kaitlyn stood framed in the doorway, the quilt tightly wrapped around her and under her arms in a form of makeshift gown. The material was held closed toward the lower half by one hand and her wet clothing was clutched in the other. Every ounce of his resolve slipping through his body like sand through the proverbial hourglass. He never stood a chance.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Taking the towel from the line, Clay looked over at her, his
tone brooking no argument. “Let’s get those clothes hung up and dry your hair.”

  At first, Kaitlyn was rooted to the spot, coming into the room and seeing Clay and the way flickering firelight played across a broad expanse of tanned, muscled skin. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, derailed by the sight before her. The ranch work evidently gave him a workout from the look of rock solid muscles across his toned stomach and arms. Her fingers curled into her palms as a sudden desire to run her hands over every inch of his torso rammed through her. The remembered way he had felt under her palms once long ago came flooding back to her memory in vivid Technicolor. Kaitlyn needed to keep those thoughts far away from her mind if she were to maintain any composure. That was what her brain told her, but the rest of her was definitely not in the mood to listen.

  Clay motioned to the stool in front of the flames. With far more poise than she felt, she walked over and sat down, her grip tightening on the quilt. Kaitlyn needed to stop the way the material threatened to open at the bottom. It was hard to do with her hands full of clothing. Yet she didn’t want to watch Clay holding the bits of cloth either. She had a dilemma.

  Sensing the problem, Clay moved to solve it.

  “Let me help.” Before she could protest, her jeans and shirt were taken and placed right next to his items.

  Unfortunately, that meant her pale blue lace bra lingered in his fingers longer than she would have preferred. She jerked her gaze away from the lace and his fingertips to focus on holding the quilt together at the top and the bottom and everyplace in between. Where was a wardrobe lady when needed?

  Clay moved to stand in front of her, the towel in his hands. Kaitlyn looked up at him and felt a rush of blood from her brain to her toes. There was too much male skin, much too close for comfort. She was so distracted he had to repeat himself.