A Cowboy for Katie
Page 4
Her heart pounded louder than the sound of the tornado.
Only she wasn’t sure if the tornado was coming now or if it was the one that had killed her pa she was hearing in her head. She would never forget that one, that night.
Crying, unable to move, she curled into a ball in a mud puddle, locked her arms around her legs, and buried her face in her knees. “Please help me, Lord,” she cried. But God hadn’t helped her that night. That horrible, terrible night that spread into days—so why would He help her now?
“Katie.”
Her head jerked up at the sound of Treb calling her name. She wanted to call out to him, but he would force her into the barn again. She couldn’t go inside. She huddled into herself more, hoping he wouldn’t find her. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. She shivered and her teeth chattered, and the raging roar in her head outdid the sound of the storm.
And then suddenly, tender arms gathered her up. “It’s okay, Katie,” Treb said, pulling her close.
“I can’t go inside. I can’t,” she cried, trembling and too weak to fight, hating herself for it.
“Shh, it’s okay. We won’t go inside,” Treb soothingly whispered against her ear. It dawned on her then that he’d dropped to the ground, pulled her into his arms, and was cradling her face in the crook of his shoulder. His strong hand cupped her head as he gently rocked her. “Shh,” he whispered again, as if she were a child. “I’m going to sit right here in this wide-open space, and we’re going to ride out this storm together.”
Her throat was clamped up tight, and Katie could only nod against his neck as another crack of thunder made her jump. “Is it coming?” she asked, her hands clenching his shirt.
“Is what coming?”
“The tor-na-do.” She managed the word in broken sobs.
His arms tightened around her. “No tornado. Just a regular Texas thunderstorm. A bad one, but no tornado tonight.”
A terrified whimper of relief broke free of her. She hated the weakness it revealed but she couldn’t stop it. Again, Treb’s arms held her secure.
Though the storm raged around them, she began to feel safe . . . and it had been a long time since she’d felt that way. Especially around a man. But she was so tired. So very tired. And Treb was here, holding her.
In that moment Katie felt everything would be all right.
Would it be? She didn’t know, but she had hope.
The storm raged about them for hours. Treb ignored the mud he was sitting in and the rain pelting them in sheets, driven by a relentless wind with the strength of a bullwhip. He just sat there in the middle of the field with lightning striking in the distance—and sometimes so close he wondered how it didn’t hit them, but the good Lord was looking out for them. He figured since Katie was an innocent victim of a cruel act of nature that the Lord might be making it up to her.
Maybe the Lord was giving him a chance at redeeming himself too.
As he held Katie, feeling her relax in his arms, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear. Somehow he felt that helping her out was a chance to make up for not being there when his family had needed him.
Not that he deserved a second chance . . . but the Good Book spoke of second chances often. His pa had believed in them, God rest his soul, and though the storm raged around them, a sense of hope eased its way through Treb.
Katie Pearl was all alone, and she needed help in more ways than he’d ever suspected until tonight. It was more than needing her house rebuilt. Katie needed someone to stand by her as she struggled through whatever was holding her captive in her mind.
He would be moving on once the house was finished. But for now, a determination struck him as fierce as the thunder and lightning breaking the night in half with its ferocity. Before he left he’d help Katie through this fearsome road she was traveling. He decided there in the middle of that storm, holding Katie in his arms, that by the time he left she’d be able to sleep inside the house she’d hired him to build.
It was a vow he made to the Lord. And maybe, in the process, he’d get some relief down deep in the dark corners of his heart where regret had eaten a hole clean through him.
“Are you okay?”
Treb’s gentle voice penetrated Katie’s sleep-fogged brain. She stirred in his arms, lifting her head. She found herself staring up into his concerned gray eyes. He looked terrible.
His hat was gone, his hair was plastered to his face, and his eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. She knew she looked no better.
Her heart tugged tight in her chest. She nodded. “Thank you,” she managed, touching his face for just an instant. She was unable to believe how tender he’d been holding her during the storm, but right now she needed to move away from him, out of his strong arms. Her knees were stiff and her legs wobbly as she stood. He held her elbow and supported her as she straightened. And then he stood up too. He didn’t say it, but she could see that he was even stiffer than she was.
“We’re an awful sight,” she said, feeling the heat of a blush spreading across her skin.
He grinned. “I’d have to agree with you on that, but I’m afraid you might haul off and kick me again.”
She gasped, realizing she had kicked him last night! And jabbed him hard in the ribs too. “I’m so sorry. I just lost it.”
His smile faded. “It’s all right, Katie. After what you’ve been through it’s understandable. I wouldn’t have tried to get you in the barn if I had really thought about how something like that could affect a person.”
Turning away, she wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself tight. Wishing she could hold off the truth but knowing now that she couldn’t. Her shoulders slumped. “What they say about me is true.”
Treb’s hand on her shoulder turned her back to face him. “No, it’s not. It’s no wonder going inside a building terrifies you. Or that you talk to yourself sometimes. Time will help heal this problem.”
His words hurt deep down inside. Hurt in a way she didn’t understand—it was a good hurt. A dangerous hurt, knowing he believed in her.
“I am afraid,” she admitted, “but I aim to fix it.” She looked down at the ground, then back up to meet his watchful, kind eyes. Even all mushed and tired she decided the man was about as good to look at as a sunrise on a clear morning. “I’m very obliged to you for what you did last night. My pa would shake your hand, Treb Rayburn. And Pa didn’t shake just anyone’s hand.”
Katie glanced at a patch of muddy grass to the side and noticed Treb’s hat turned upside down in it. She walked over and picked it up, then went back and handed it to him. “Thank you,” she said, again needing some space to think. She spun and headed back across the field toward the remains of the buildings. Her still-wet dress slapped against her legs, and her shoes made squishing noises as she trod through the mud. The sun was rising slowly in the sky, burning off the morning dew. The sunlight was wonderful to see, its rays warm on her clammy, damp skin. But when all the mud caked to her dress and her skin dried, her nasty predicament was only going to feel worse. Turning around she saw Treb walking at a much slower pace behind her. His soaked clothing looked worse than hers—still her heart squeezed looking at him. She’d hired a safe bet—a rambler who had no intentions of sticking around when the work was done. He was perfect for this job. Safe.
But last night, snug in Treb’s strong arms, things had become complicated. He’d cradled her with such care . . .
Safe bet, ha! He’d come into the awful storm and sat smack down in the middle of a puddle of water and just held her tight. Held her all through the night, trying to protect her from the elements because he’d seen how hysterical being inside made her.
And being in the dark too.
The man had downright messed up her plans.
A girl had to fight holding back feelings for a man who would do that for her.
But she’d been too fearful to fight it. She’d needed what he offered.
Of course she would have made it, wit
h no other choice.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to think of what the morning would have been like after the storm if he hadn’t been there. She remembered how it was when they pulled her out of her grave.
She swallowed hard as the memory of screaming and whimpering like a hurt animal rushed at her like the wind. She’d been dirty and bruised and wild. Like last night in the storm.
“I’m going to the stream to clean up,” she said, shaking off the memory, glad to have an excuse to be alone, to get away from what was eating at her. “When I’m finished, I’ll show you the way.” Changing directions she hurried toward the stand of trees off to the side of her homestead. She wished being normal again would be as easy as washing the mud off of her. But she knew that wasn’t how it was. Treb might tell her she wasn’t crazy, but she knew it wasn’t that simple.
CHAPTER FIVE
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Treb looked up from planting a post in the hole he’d just finished digging. The sun was out as if there had never been a storm in the night. It was a scorcher even though it was only midmorning. Steam had risen from the ground as the water evaporated causing his wet, mud-caked clothes to dry stiff and scratch against his skin. Katie, on the other hand, had been gone so long he’d begun to worry. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She’d been so fragile. So alone. So small in his arms. And when she’d looked up at him as he held her, he knew he would have walked through fire to help her.
Now, here she stood with her dress freshly washed and sun-dried, and her cheeks shone with the glow of having been scrubbed. Her deep brown hair glistened like mahogany in the sunlight, hanging loose around her face and shoulders. She was holding her hat and without it she looked extremely feminine. Her eyes sparkled despite the weariness he saw in them.
He swallowed hard as realization struck . . . Katie Pearl was beautiful.
His gut suddenly felt as if a family of grasshoppers had been cut loose inside it. “I’m making you a shelter. No more need for you to be caught out in the weather again.” He’d spent the night holding her, listening to her mumble to herself when she’d fallen asleep in his arms. The woman had been so worn out that she’d slept through a blasting thunder and lightning display like he hadn’t seen in ages. Only by the grace of God had they not been struck down sitting where they were. But somewhere in the middle of all that, Katie Pearl had closed her eyes against his heart and slept.
It was a disturbing thing to a man who didn’t want connections. And he recognized this powerful, protective instinct as the dangerous kind, the kind that had the power to undo him. When she didn’t say anything more, he met her wide gaze—not happy with what she was doing to him.
“Now, Katie, don’t be lookin’ at me with those big eyes of yours. I’ll just attach some old wagon tarps I found in the barn to the top and sides of these poles. You’ll have nothing but cloth over your head and daylight on two sides. Or all sides if you want. You can tie the sides to the poles, but if a storm blows in, you can at least keep dry.”
“I—well,” she stammered, studying the other poles with interest, “it might help. I can try it at least.”
Good. She wasn’t as stubborn as he thought she’d be. “I figure if there isn’t a heavy roof above you that could cave in, it will be a step forward. Progress, you know.”
She clasped her hands together and a smile spread across her face. He sure liked her smiles.
“Progress. That’s just what my pa used to say. I like the sound of that, Treb Rayburn.”
“Good,” he grunted and went back to work, trying hard not to let those eyes or that smile wheedle their way any deeper. Nope, this shelter would help keep her firmly away from any more chances of him having to hold her close.
“The water’s good if you want to wash that caked mud off of you.” She pointed toward the creek, then headed over and stood with her hands on her hips as she stared at the barn. “It gets all-fired irritating that I can’t go inside a building.” She spun toward him. “And when I get to talking to myself . . . You’re as loony as they say, Katie Pearl.” She mumbled the last words under her breath. Pure disgust directed at herself.
He threw the spade to the ground. “No, you’re not. And I wish one of them name-calling old biddies would come call you that while I’m standing beside you. I’d let them have it. Now, stop spouting that nonsense and help me attach these tarps.”
She scowled at him and that was just fine. It suited him in fact, much better than when she smiled at him. He didn’t need her smiling at him anymore. No, sir, he did not.
“Don’t you give me orders! I’m still your boss, and I was thinking I was hungry and thought you might be too since we haven’t had breakfast. But my supplies are inside the barn.”
Stalking inside the barn, he grabbed a pouch of beef jerky, strode back out, and shoved it at her. “This should do us till we get some work done.”
He figured the madder he made her, the safer he’d be. He planned to see New Orleans down in Louisiana and the Gulf before the winter hit. He had a whole list of places he was going to visit before he settled down, and the sooner he got Katie’s life in order, the sooner he could ride out. His clothes were stiff and scratchin’ his hide raw, and his insides were feeling just as raw every time she looked at him with that lost-little-girl look.
Keeping her mad at him and out of his arms seemed the safest way of getting back on the trail and making tracks.
Her blue eyes froze over and hit him with an icy blast. Perfect. Good. Couldn’t be better.
“It’s no wonder your horse up and died on you, you ill-tempered hunk of flesh.” Jabbing her nose in the air, she strode past him and headed toward the pile of rubble that used to be her home. There she sat on a section of flooring that had remained intact. He watched her grudgingly pull a piece of jerky from the sack to chew on as she studied the disaster.
She needed to see progress and she needed to see it now.
With a grunt of irritation at himself, Treb went back to work. Katie would have shelter before nightfall, and that was a fact.
Katie felt helpless enough, and she hated the feeling. She did not need Treb making her feel worse!
The man was infuriating. He was ornery, pushy, and arrogant.
Chomping on a tough piece of jerky, she watched Treb working on the structure that would keep the rain off of her and give her some shield against the night. Truth was she was grateful. She really, really was. But he was treating her like she was helpless, and it didn’t sit well—not since she was fighting against giving in to it with everything she had.
Resentment settled over her like the stink of soured milk. Watching him, she knew exactly what it was. He’d walked out in that storm and held her, protected her, and shielded her with his body. She’d slept. She’d actually drifted off to sleep during the awful storm with the steady sound of his heart beating in her ear, giving her comfort.
She hadn’t felt comforted in so long. But now he was taking over. And she didn’t like it. It made her feel even more helpless than she already did, and that made her mad. Chewing on the jerky, she watched the man work. The muscles in his arms bunching with each movement reminded her that those arms had made her feel safe. She shoved the thought aside. It did no good sitting there daydreaming about falling in love with a practical stranger. He was going to be leaving before the summer was over, so the very idea of such a fanciful thought irritated her even more.
“You better get up and get busy, or before you know it you’ll be beggin’ this man to stay,” she growled. “That’s what you think.”
Jumping up, she decided she needed to take charge. She was sleeping in the shelter tonight, and she was sleeping on something other than the ground. Surveying the ruins, she saw a section of wall that would work just perfect. Stomping over to it, she wrestled the piece from the other wreckage. It was wider and taller than she was, but not overly big. Dragging it toward Treb, she dropped it in her tracks, then went back for s
ome planks. This would soon be her bed. Raised about four inches from the ground, it would ensure that her bedroll wouldn’t get wet if it rained again. Feeling much better about herself, she marched over, and with just a small hesitation, she stepped beneath the canvas canopy.
Her heart pounded but the space was no more threatening than a porch overhang, and she could handle that. Still, pride flooded through her. She’d made a step forward.
“Good for you, Katie,” Treb said. His gentle words of encouragement flowed over her and eased the anger she’d felt toward him. “It’s a beginning.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I still don’t understand why no one from town has come out to help you clean up some of this wreckage.”
Katie placed her hands on her hips, her fingers tapping on her hip bones. “After they pulled me out from under the house, I guess I was a little upset. I might have screamed at them and maybe waved a pitchfork around a little. When I found my gun . . . they scattered.”
Treb was speechless, but she couldn’t read his face.
“The townsfolk didn’t come back after that. But then the fellas started coming around trying to court me, wanting my land, so I started shooting. They all stopped coming around after that. Better that way.”
“Katie, you have got to stop waving that gun around. You could have friends in town who would come out here if you’d just holster that thing.”
“They call me crazy. Why would I want their help?”
He raked a hand over his face. “I guess I see your point. Only, if you would stop shooting at people, then they wouldn’t call you names.”
“Ha, why would I want that? If it wasn’t for me bein’ crazy, I’d have more men than a dog has fleas out here trying to latch on to me for my ranch. Besides, I hired you and you’re doing just fine.” It was true, he was doing fine . . . when he wasn’t making her mad.
It hit her again, looking at him, that soon he would be gone and she would be all alone once more. Her head started pounding just thinking about it.