BEYOND ALL REASON

by Judith Duncan

  Kate gave him a wry smile. "And miss the only quiet time in the entire day? Not a chance." She picked up some comics Mark had left scattered on the table, stacked them, then placed them on the end of the counter. "Where's Tanner?"

  Chase leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. "He had some things to go over with Ross, and he wanted to check a horse that came up lame today."

  She motioned to the coffee. "Would you like a piece of pie or muffin to go with that?"

  He gave her an almost sheepish grin. "I must admit, I've been sitting here thinking about that pie. Except I know Burt will nail my hide to the door if I eat it on him."

  Kate smiled. "There's more in the freezer. And Burt loves having something to get in a huff about."

  Rocking back in his chair, Chase hooked one ankle across his knee and crossed his arms, studying her with a mix of amusement and intentness. "He's a cantankerous old devil. He used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid, but by the looks of it, it didn't take you long to get a twitch on him. He's downright docile now."

  Kate laughed. "'Docile' seems a little extreme. 'Almost manageable' might be closer to the truth."

  Amusement dancing in his eyes, Chase met her gaze. "Might be at that."

  Kate opened the cupboard and got out the pie. She cut him a thick wedge and put it on a plate, then turned to ask him if he wanted whipped cream. He was still sitting with his arms folded, his chair rocked back, but he was watching her with a hard, unsmiling look that made her insides drop. Chase McCall, she realized with a start, was a presence to be reckoned with. He might be reckless, and he might have a dare-devil attitude, but this man was no pushover. Trying to contain the nervous flutter in her middle, she placed a fork on the plate and took the pie over to the table.

  He carefully aligned the fork, as if he were considering something, then he looked up at her. "Don't ever start jerking Tanner around, Kate," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. There was a taut silence; then he exhaled heavily and let his chair slam down. He massaged his eyes and released another sigh. His voice was strained when he spoke. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."

  Not sure how to handle the situation, Kate stepped back and stuck her hands in her pockets. Something happened in that instant, and she wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was a kind of releasing sensation in her midriff, as if some sort of tension had let go.

  Deciding that maybe Chase deserved a little honesty, she tried to clear away the funny feeling in her chest, then spoke, her voice unsteady. "Your brother is the best thing that's happened to me in along, long time, Chase, but I can't promise that he won't get hurt." Feeling suddenly chilled, she folded her arms and huddled in their warmth, trying to find the words to make him understand. "I can't even be sure I won't get hurt." Struggling with a wealth of feelings, she managed a wobbly smile. "We're just sort of feeling our way along."

  Chase looked up at her, his gaze solemn and unwavering. He didn't say anything for a while, but finally he spoke, his tone quiet. "In other words, one day at a time."

  Kate looked away. "Yes."

  There was a long silence, then Chase spoke again. "What has he told you?"

  Kate pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, her expression solemn as she turned one of the tulips in the butter crock. Finally she inhaled heavily and shook her head.

  Chase abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up, then walked to the window. Bracing his hand on the frame, he stood staring out at the fading twilight. His tone was flat and bitter when he finally spoke. "So you don't know what a rotten deal he got from our old man."

  Kate rubbed her thumb along the broad leaf of one of the flowers, then looked up at him. "Rita told me a bit – I wanted to know about the Bruce McCall Arena in Bolton, so I asked her."

  Chase stood staring out the window for several moments, then he turned, giving her a humorless smile. "Hell of a family I come from, isn't it?"

  She smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. You and Tanner turned out all right."

  Chase sighed and came back to the table. Swinging the chair around, he straddled it, hooking his arms over the back. There was a glimmer of real humor in his eyes when he looked at her. "If it hadn't been for Tanner, I probably would have spent my formative years in juvenile detention. I was determined to make my old man's life a living hell."

  Kate folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, watching him with interest. "How formative?"

  He shot her an amused look. "Most people want to know what I did to make my old man's life hell."

  Kate gave him a lopsided grin. "I don't want to know. I'm a mother of sons."

  He chuckled, then gave a small shrug. "I used to spend a lot of time out at the family ranch when I was a kid. My father was still pretty involved back then, and he used to take me with him quite a bit. I was about four when Cyrus and Millie brought Tanner to live with them." He ran his thumbnail along the edge of the table, the expression in his eyes altering, becoming more solemn and reminiscent. Finally he looked up at her, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I followed Tanner around like a second shadow – dogged his every step. Asked him a million questions. He was always so damned patient, and I thought he could spit gold. Then something happened when he was about fourteen – Cyrus would never tell me what it was – but it must have been bad, because Tanner disappeared, and so did Cyrus. I guess I must have been eight or nine before I found out he was my half brother. My father and mother were having a hell of a row late one night, and I woke up. She was yelling at him about Tanner. It was that same night I found out he was working for Burt Shaw."

  Her gaze fixed on him, Kate assimilated all his information, trying to suppress the churning in her stomach. She didn't dare think about what could have happened to drive Tanner away from the Bar M. Knowing what kind of a childhood he'd had was bad enough.

  Chase lifted his head and looked at her, the glimmer of humor back in his eyes. "So the next time we went out to the Bar M, I saddled up my horse and rode over to Burt's – he was still living on the original Shaw homestead then, so it was only a couple of miles across country. Anyhow, I was going to enlighten Tanner about this new discovery. I was pretty ticked off when I found out he already knew – tried to beat him up, as I recall." He paused, his expression softened by the recollection. "That was one thing my old man never did figure out – why I'd ride over to Burt's every chance I got."

  Kate watched him, absorbed by his recounting of Tanner's role in his life, touched by his openness. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she tipped her head to one side. "So you're eight years younger?"

  "Yeah. Which means – hell, he'll be turning forty-two this fall."

  "Rita said you came to work for Burt when you left high school."

  He grinned, shaking his head. "Which probably saved my butt. I was pretty wild back then – did my fair share of hell-raising. But nobody messed with Tanner in those days, not even me, so I kept my nose pretty clean." His grin broadened, and he looked up at her. "Burt taught him the fine art of knife throwing right after he came here, and he could spike a dime at fifty paces – never missed, and faster than lightning. He used to wear a buck knife back then – kept it in a sheath on his belt whenever he was in rough country. Old Tommy Brown saw him use it once, and after that, everyone was real careful what they said around Tanner."

  Intent on his story, Chase shook his head over some recollection, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Cyrus always figured Tanner could have been a legend in his own time. Swore all he needed was a knife, a bullwhip and a good horse, and he could have tamed the old West all by himself." He looked at Kate, the glint intensifying. "I figured there was a certain amount of truth in that. So I sure in hell wasn't going to tangle with him."

  Kate heard the screen door open, and she glanced at the clock over the cupboard. Another sixteen-hour day. She glanced at Chase as she got up, giving him fair warning. "You'd better eat that p
ie, or you will be in big trouble with Burt."

  Tanner had his back to her and was prying off one boot in a bootjack when Kate paused in the doorway. Resting her shoulder against the frame, she watched him. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was dead tired. Realizing that he didn't know she was there, she spoke, her voice husky. "Hi. I was beginning to think you were going to spend the night in the barn."

  He finished drawing off the boot, then gave her a quick glance, his half smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Hi. I thought you'd be in bed by now."

  Disquieted by the somberness in his voice, she folded her arms and watched as he hooked his other boot in the bootjack, wondering what was wrong. "A bad day?" she asked softly.

  He drew his foot from the boot, then straightened. "Yeah," he responded, his voice gruff. "It was."

  Troubled by the fact that he wouldn't quite meet her gaze, and even more troubled by the vulnerability she sensed in him, she tried to think of some possible reason for the sudden change from that morning. And the only thing that had changed since that morning was his brother's arrival. His handsome, daredevil, charming-as-hell brother. His father's son.

  It was in that instant that Kate understood fully just how badly she could hurt him, how unsure he was of her, how little he expected for himself. Angry at those who had done this to him, wishing she could make it better, she went to him and took his weary face between her hands, then stretched up and gave him a soft kiss.

  He stopped breathing and went very still. Kate could feel the need in him, the lonely, lonely need, and she put her heart and soul into that kiss, wordlessly telling him things she couldn't say aloud. A shudder coursed through him, and he drew a ragged breath, catching her by the back of the head, his jaw flexing beneath her hand as he responded. He moved his mouth slowly against hers, tasting her, savoring her, drawing her breath from her and leaving her weak.

  It went on and on and on, until Kate felt as if she were suffocating from all the sensations pouring in on her, and she flattened her hand against his chest. Tanner tensed and dragged his mouth away from hers. His heart was slamming in his chest, and his breathing was harsh and uneven, but he gathered her up in a cuddling embrace, and Kate hung on to him, needing him – needing his strength around her. Finally she was able to get a breath past the frenzy in her chest, and Tanner ran his hand up her back, pressing her to him. He turned his head, pressing an unsteady kiss against the curve of her neck, then nestled her closer. "Ah, Katie," he whispered unevenly. "I shouldn't even be touching you, I'm so damned filthy."

  Kate closed her eyes and hugged him hard, moved by his husky admission. He was fastidious in his personal grooming – always neat, always clean, always washed his hands before sitting down at the table – a holdover from his twisted, sick childhood, no doubt. She had a mental picture of a small, somber half-breed boy, his hands being roughly scrubbed with a stiff brush and harsh soap because he hadn't got them perfectly clean. That image was bad enough, but what upset her was that he felt he didn't have the right to hold her, the right to any kind of comfort, unless he was clean. That made her feel so sad.

  Struggling against the feelings he'd created in her, she tightened her arms around him when she felt him ease away. "I don't care," she said in a fiercely defensive whisper, "if you've been dipped in the septic tank and rolled down the manure pile. I just want you to hold me."

  She was rewarded with a husky chuckle and a hard hug. There was an undercurrent of amusement in his voice when he finally responded. "The manure pile I can handle. The septic tank is a bit much."

  Unaccountably moved by the hug, even more moved by the protective way he tucked her head against his shoulder, Kate shut her eyes and struggled against the sudden threat of tears. Lord, but this man deserved some joy in his life.

  Resting his cheek against her hair, Tanner continued to rub her back, and Kate turned her face against his neck, saturating herself in his touch. Finally Tanner released a long sigh, running his hand up the full length other back. "Chase usually sleeps at the house when he's here," he said, his voice heavy with regret. Kate opened her eyes, considering his comment, then smiled to herself when she figured out what he was really saying. She caressed the side of his neck. "That's fine. I figured he would, so I fixed my bed for him. I put Scotty in with Mark, so I can move into the boys' room – whenever."

  Tanner raised his head and looked at her, his gaze solemn. "You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, Kate." He shifted his gaze as he smoothed his thumb along her eyebrow, then looked at her, his eyes dark and solemn. "Believe me, I'd understand if you wanted to keep all this quiet."

  It had cost him a lot to make such an open admission. Kate could see it in his eyes, and it was all she could do to keep from letting her feelings get the upper hand. "I don't care if the whole world knows," she responded softly, holding his gaze. "And I don't care who finds out about us. I'd just like to keep the boys out of it if I can."

  He stared down at her, his gaze troubled. He lifted a wisp of hair off her face and carefully tucked it behind her ear; then he looked at her again. "And I don't want you feeling uncomfortable because Chase is here," he said huskily.

  She met his gaze and grimaced, then grinned. "Just in case, I'll go up first."

  It was late when she finally went upstairs, and it was even later when Tanner came up. She'd indulged herself in a long, relaxing soak in the Jacuzzi in Tanner's bathroom and was just zipping up the front of her housecoat when he entered the bedroom. Securing a towel around her wet hair, she hung up the other towel, then turned toward the bedroom. He was standing by his dresser, emptying his pockets, when she entered the room. He glanced up, indicating the bathroom with a lift of his chin. "Are you finished?"

  She nodded, noticing again how exhausted he looked. He undid his belt and pulled it free of his jeans, then folded it up and laid it on the dresser. He turned toward the bathroom, stiffly rolling one shoulder, and Kate watched him go. She knew from Chase's comments that he'd been slammed into a cattle feeder by a rank steer earlier that day, and the shoulder was obviously bothering him now.

  "Why don't you let me give you a back rub?" she said softly. "It would help work out that stiffness."

  He shook his head. "All I need is a hot shower and bed."

  Kate stared after him, the funny churning in the pit of her stomach very disquieting. She had yet to see him naked. In fact, she had yet to see him with his shirt off. It was almost as though he didn't want to acknowledge his own body – except at night, in total darkness; then his barriers would come down. Releasing a resigned sigh, she pulled the towel off her head, then sat cross-legged on the bed and began drying her hair. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to know the whole story of Tanner's childhood. She suspected she might try to kill someone if she ever found out the whole truth.

  She was already in bed when Tanner came back into the room. His shirt was open, and his jeans weren't done up, but that was as far as his comfort zone extended. He switched off the bedside light, then began removing his clothes. Kate waited for him, emotion thick inside her, profound tenderness making her heart ache. When he finally stretched out beside her, she rose to her knees beside him, her voice husky and gently prodding when she spoke. "Come on, Tanner," she whispered. "Roll over and let me give you a back rub. It'll make you feel better."

  He hesitated, then rolled onto his stomach, turning his face away and resting his head on his folded arms. There was a reserve about him, yet he sought out her touch – as if he'd been deprived of it for so long that he couldn't get enough of it now. And she was going to touch him – stroke after stroke. She would replenish him.

  Straddling his hips, she slowly smoothed her hands up the muscled length of his back, her fingers skimming over the puckered scar on his right shoulder, a weakening flutter unfolding in her middle. She was going to give him a back rub that eased his soreness and soothed his aching muscles, and she would slowly, thoroughly massage awa
y his weariness. She was going to caress and stroke every inch of him, telling him through touch alone just how beautiful she thought he was.

  Dragging her hands down his back, she aligned the heels of her hands along the base of his spine, then moved them in a slow, massaging tempo, the movement dragging a low groan from him. She closed her eyes and began slowly, sensually, seductively kneading his flesh, her pulse growing thick and heavy. It was going to be a long, long night.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Burt was adamant. For the past hundred years, from the time the first Circle S

  brand was hammered into shape at a blacksmith's forge, branding day had always taken place the second week of June. And damn it, they weren't breaking with tradition because of a little rain. But because of the heavy rainfall, the preparations were behind schedule.

  Cyrus told Kate that branding day was something of a tradition in the community, with neighboring ranchers pitching in. Ross had hired on extra hands, and some of the young men from the Hutterite colony had come over three days in a row to help, but even so, with over six hundred cows and their calves to round up and separate, it meant long, exhausting days in the saddle for all of them. And in June, the days were already at their longest. Tanner usually left the house at dawn and often didn't return until well after last light. It helped that Chase stayed on, and just from the little Kate saw, it was clear that Tanner's brother knew the Circle S operation inside out. Kate wasn't sure how Tanner would have managed without him.

  Because of Burt, she was removed from most of the action, but she did what she could. Cyrus told her that, come branding day, there would be upward of fifty people, some just there to hang on the corral and give advice, but most of them there to work. Three meals, two lunches and grab-as-you-go snacks – multiplied by fifty or more – meant a mountain of food preparation. She baked pies until she never wanted to see another crust and made enough muffins to stop a stampede, and Cyrus praised her cooking with his considerable cowpoke charm.