Suddenly feeling weary through and through, she lifted her head and rested her chin on her knees. Her eyes grew heavy as her gaze settled on Treb in the flickering light. The throbbing eased and her nerves seemed to calm looking at him. Was it that for the first time in weeks she wasn’t by herself? Somehow, knowing he was across the fire from her helped.
It felt good not to be alone.
Treb rubbed his eyes as the scent of coffee, and frying bacon had him sitting up to the rumble of his stomach. Katie was busy flipping the bacon in the pan. Her hair had escaped the plait and tendrils lay softly against her cheek. She looked tired—it was no wonder since as far as he could tell, she hadn’t slept last night. He’d drifted off to the sound of her mumbling softly to herself.
At first she had mumbled in the same absent way she’d talked in the wagon on the way over. But this time his boss lady had been talking to herself. Not only talking—she’d held an entire conversation with herself as if there were another person sitting there talking to her, only Katie Pearl was doing the talking for both of them.
Crazy Katie, they’d called her. With every passing moment it was becoming a little clearer why.
“Mornin’,” he grunted, rubbing his jaw.
“Morning.” She poured a cup of coffee and held the tin out to him. “I was just about to wake you. We’ve got a long day of work ahead of us.”
“Thanks.” He took the offered cup, his fingers brushing hers for a moment. Instantly his insides seemed to jump again at the contact, and his eyes latched onto hers and didn’t want to let go. He’d thought it had been because of the fight they were having last night. Not so this morning. “Did you sleep any?”
A blush tinged her cheeks buttercup pink. “Enough.”
He sipped the hot coffee and let the bitter brew spread through him as he studied her. She was a puzzle.
Finally he couldn’t help it. “Why won’t you go in the barn?”
She heaved a sigh. “Because. I don’t want to. That’s your job. I don’t want to get into it again today. So, what do you know about building a house?”
Prickly. Prickly. He understood prickly. He also understood a change of subject when he heard it. “I’ve helped build a few.”
“Good. I mean, I could’ve done it myself. I just didn’t know how sturdy it would be.”
He nodded toward the makeshift pen that Myrtle May stood in. “If that’s a sampling of your skills, then I can safely say you need to let me take the lead on the house building.”
Uncertainty lit her expression. “It’s not that bad.”
“Is so. Your horse is only staying in because she wants to. She could walk out of there in a heartbeat.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and then handed him a tin plate with a stack of bacon and a hard biscuit.
He was careful not to touch her as he took the plate of food. As they ate, he noticed her eyes went over to her handiwork on the corrals several times, and each time he felt worse about telling her she’d done a poor job.
When he finished breakfast, he went over to look at the horses. Katie came to stand beside him. “The black one was my pa’s, and the chestnut is my cattle horse. But the rest of them you can pick from. You can start figuring out which one suits you anytime you want.”
“Thanks. They’re a fine bunch of horses. Who broke them?”
She looked up at him, her brows crinkled over those pretty blue eyes. “I did.”
“You?”
She crossed her arms. “Yes, I did. Not that we normally tell folks that because they might not want to buy them. But it’s the truth.”
Silence stretched between them and he found himself smiling in the end. She was a stubborn, unpredictable woman. “Did your pa raise you to be independent or did you fight so hard he had no other choice?”
The challenge in her expression eased. “It’s a hard land out here. It killed my ma early—she was too soft to make it. So Pa toughened me up from an early age.”
Treb thought of his mother and sister, and his insides twisted. “You took to it like a baby duck takes to a watering hole, didn’t you?”
“I did.” A faint smile bloomed across her face.
It was a small one but it took Treb’s breath away. She’d been so serious and sad-looking the entire time he’d known her. For an instant he imagined her as she’d been before the tornado tore up her world. Then a flashback to a time before he’d lost his family slammed into him. Tragedy changed a person. It had changed him. Suddenly he wished with all his heart that Katie Pearl would not have suffered loss such as she had.
“Well, I best be getting to work on rebuilding your house, Katie Pearl. Maybe that’ll make that smile show up more often. It looks right nice on you.” He tipped his hat, spun on his boot heels, and strode across the yard to the barn.
It was time to get to work.
They spent the day hauling out the good wood from the ruins of the house for repurposing, setting the rest aside for firewood. From the look of last night’s fire, he figured Katie was going to need a lot of wood. She’d burned that fire long and hot all night.
The sun was a scorcher, and by midday they were both soaked with sweat, but Katie never slowed down. She hauled wood like a pack mule. She also hadn’t talked much—at least not to him. He’d caught her a time or two talking to herself when he’d come around a corner. After thinking on it he’d decided that given what she’d been through, she was due a few oddities. She was tough—he was learning that more and more. He didn’t know all the details of what had happened, but after getting to know her a little better, he figured it had been bad. Probably would have broken a softer woman.
A man rode into the yard that afternoon.
Treb saw Katie’s hand move to her gun as she watched him approach. “What do you need, Preacher?”
Treb wouldn’t have guessed the solid-built man was a preacher. He looked more like a lawman.
The preacher smiled. “I came to see if you needed anything, Katie. And to see if we can expect you at Sunday services. That’s all.” His hands tightened on the leather reins as his shrewd navy eyes dug into Treb, giving him the once-over. “And to see if this man you’d hired was a decent sort. The kind who would respect your wishes.”
Treb suddenly felt as if he were being judged by Katie’s pa on whether he was good enough to court her.
Katie scowled. “I can take care of myself, Preacher Dawson. And I won’t be coming to services.”
“Have you reconsidered letting us come out here to help get things in order?”
“I don’t want any help. I hired myself a man. And he’ll do just fine.”
The preacher didn’t linger long, obviously having learned that there were times when it was best to retreat. But not before he let Treb know where to find him and that if he needed any help to let him know.
By the time the evening came around, black and ominous clouds gathered on the horizon and the wind kicked up something fierce. Katie had been carrying firewood when she paused to stare at the dark clouds rolling fast across the sky. Her blue dress billowed in the strong wind and her hair streamed out behind her.
“Don’t you think we better move the supplies into the barn?” Treb asked. When Katie turned to reply, her complexion was ashen. “Are you okay?”
She blinked and took a deep breath, still looking alarmed. He put down the wood in his arms, realizing something wasn’t right. But before he could ask more questions, rain started coming down in sheets. He broke into action, jogging toward the supplies.
“I’m going to move your food supplies into the barn,” he called over the wind. “It’ll all be ruined if we don’t do something.”
She didn’t move at first. Then seemed to snap out of whatever held her captive and followed him. “I’ll help.” She grabbed a bag of flour while he grabbed a large sack of oats and hurried into the barn. He set the sack in the corner where it would be safe and realized that Katie hadn’t followed
him. She was grabbing supplies and dropping them off at the entrance of the barn but not coming inside. He rushed past her to grab the heavier feed sacks, and when he was done with those, he took up bringing what she’d piled in the wide doorway.
Her dress was plastered to her and rainwater ran off the limp rim of her hat like a waterfall. She was drenched, but still she didn’t step into the protection of the barn.
The wind whipped about them, howling as the storm moved in, fierce as a pack of wolves. Lightning flashed across the sky. Katie jumped but she remained rooted to the spot, frozen, staring at the sky.
“Come on.” He had to raise his voice over the wind as he took her arm. “We’ve got to get inside.”
“No!” she cried, yanking her arm free. Her eyes were wide with terror as she backed away from the barn, totally exposed to the storm. Rain was blowing sideways now. The wind was so strong she had to lean into it to stay upright.
“Katie, you have to get out of this.”
She didn’t seem to hear him.
“Katie, you have to come inside the barn,” he yelled. He was beside her in two strides. Water dripped from her face. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates as she stared at him. “Come on, Katie.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No! I don’t have to do anything you say. I’ll stay right here.”
“You can’t stay here,” he yelled over a crack of thunder. “You could be hurt. Come on.” He reached for her arm but she jumped away.
“Leave me be. I’m not going in there! I can’t.”
It dawned on him then as he looked from her to the barn why in all this time she hadn’t set foot into the barn. She was afraid of being inside. He thought of the way she’d stood outside the General Store and hadn’t entered the building. And who could blame her? She’d been trapped beneath her home when it had fallen down on top of her. The terror was clearly visible on her face. When the lightning lit up the night again, too close for comfort, he felt for her. There was no way she could stay out in this.
With no other options, and before she had a chance to shoot him, he reached for her.
“No,” she cried, sounding like a wild animal.
Treb ignored her—he had to—as he scooped her into his arms, being careful to clamp his hands around her arms so she couldn’t get at her gun. Good thing he did, since she turned into a wildcat.
“Put me down,” she screamed, kicking and fighting.
Ignoring her, he strode toward the barn.
“Nooo! Not in there. Nooo!” she cried.
“You can’t stay in this storm, Katie.” He was losing patience. Fool woman should know this was the only way. He strode into the barn.
“You no-good, lily-livered skunk! Let me go!” Wiggling her arm loose, she walloped him on the side of the head.
“Ow! Hold still, you wildca—”
She got another wallop in. This time she managed to startle him so bad his hold on her loosened, and she flew out of his arms. He managed to snag her pistol out of its holder, though, and was sure he’d saved his own life in the process.
Stuffing it in the back waistband of his britches, he wondered how in the name of thunder he was going to get Katie calmed down. He was between her and the exit of the barn. Through the hole in the roof, lightning lit up the darkened sky. Thunder cracked instantly. Katie looked like a cornered animal, darting from side to side and looking for a way to get past him. “Let me out,” she gasped, racing forward suddenly, so terrified that she tried to run right by him. He wrapped his arms around her. She elbowed him hard in the ribs, then kicked him in his knee with the heel of her boot.
“Umph!” he grunted, barely hanging on to her. She kicked him in the knee again, then twisted loose as he buckled in pain. Grabbing his knee, he watched her race into the storm.
For a little thing she made him feel like he’d just tangled with five of her. It was embarrassing. “Katie, come back,” he yelled, his words disappearing on the wind just as she disappeared into the darkness.
What had he gotten himself into? The question came at him once more as he limped out into the rain calling his boss’s name. It was a silly question, that was for sure, because ten minutes ago he might not have known—but now he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into.
A mess. Pure and simple. One strange mess.
Rain rolled down his face and dripped off the brim of his hat like a river. Hanging his head, he stared at his boots. Water puddled about them.
Katie was terrified of being trapped. The realization hit him hard—shamed him.
She’d laid under her house trapped alive for days in a grave, basically. It all made sense to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go in the barn. She couldn’t.
And when he’d forced her, she’d gone wild.
She was probably afraid of the dark too.
That would explain the fires and the way her hand shook last night as dusk came and went. And talking to herself? It could very well explain that too.
Katie Pearl was afraid of the dark.
His little sister had been afraid of the dark. The memory came at him from a long way off. He remembered how he used to tease her about it. Even jumped out at her a time or two . . . stupid adolescent fun. It was a regret he’d lived with ever since she’d—since they’d all died nearly ten years ago.
He had to find Katie.
Had to find her and get her out of this. Get her safe.
“Katie!” he yelled to the wind, then took off jogging.
CHAPTER FOUR
KATIE RAN UNTIL SHE WAS OUT IN THE CENTER OF THE meadow and even then she kept running, her heart pounding. The storm—the terrible, awful sound of the tornado coming—rang in her ears. She stumbled and fell hard to her knees.
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.
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