“It’s right here.” She glanced at the timepiece before handing it to him. “Ten A.M. Your watch, at least, is waterproof,” she said, an unrestrained grin canting the corners of her mouth.
“I don’t think—” J.T.’s hand froze as he reached for his watch, and his heart stopped midbeat. Every thought flew from his head and the room seemed to shrink as he stared at the dimple creasing Caitlan’s right cheek, a single dimple identical to the one Amanda had when she grinned. The same violet-blue eyes, the same dimple ...
Sweet, haunting memories crowded in on him, suffocating him with their poignancy. Then, like a cloud of smoke, the recollections dispersed, and it was Caitlan he wanted to touch, Caitlan’s feminine scent that wrapped around him, seducing him, tempting him, making him long for something that was just beyond his grasp and always would be.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the vulnerable way he felt, despising even more that this woman made him remember and feel things he thought he’d permanently locked away. Dammit, why her?
“J.T., are you okay?”
She placed a caring hand on his arm, and he flinched as her fingers seared him through the thin material of his shirt. Swearing at his reaction, he put distance between them the only way he knew how, shoving up a wall in front of his emotions before he made a fool of himself. “I need to take care of some personal matters, if you know what I mean. Outside. Alone.”
She nodded and backed away. “I understand.”
The hurt look in her eyes grabbed at him, but he kept his tone deliberately brusque. “As soon as the shack is cleaned up, we’ll start toward the ranch.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
He wasn’t about to spend the afternoon in the shack with her, in a too small a room with too many possibilities. He strode to the door and opened it, welcoming the slap of brisk morning air.
“We’ll get to the house even if I have to crawl,” he said, then glanced back at her with purpose, his harshness fading. “Or you could always drag me.” Before she could offer a retort, he stepped outside and closed the door.
Caitlan looked out the window and watched as J.T. strode toward a copse of trees, wondering at the light flutters in her belly as she admired the leashed power and strength of his body. An altogether strange sensation, she thought, like none other she’d experienced as a guardian angel. Something about J.T. Rafferty elevated her nerves to a level of consciousness and made her feel things that were dark and surely forbidden to her. Yet she couldn’t seem to stem the desire and longing sweeping through her. She was even more ashamed because the feeling wasn’t at all unpleasant to her.
Once J.T. disappeared from view and she knew she’d have a few moments to herself, she cleared her mind of those disconcerting thoughts and closed her fingers around her medallion.
“Yes?”
“You guys gave me a real doozy of an excuse to convince J.T. how I found him unconscious,” she said, remembering his doubts. “He probably thinks I’m a real ditz.”
“It was the best we could do at such short notice. He believes you, which is all that matters. Your expressions and emotions flowed naturally. Now, please, you mustn’t summon us unless it’s an absolute emergency. We’ve been swamped since you left.”
Sighing, Caitlan let the medallion drop back between her breasts. Time to get back to work, she told herself. She had a very obstinate man to protect.
* * *
J.T. took care of nature’s call and, instead of returning to the shack, he walked along the edge of the creek, heading toward the spot where he’d been ambushed the day before so he could investigate the area. The sun warmed his back and a clean, chilly breeze blew. Up above, a blue sky greeted him, stretching on for as far as the eye could see. Except for the damp soil beneath his boots there wasn’t any evidence of the tempestuous sleet storm that had hit yesterday.
The water in the creek was higher than normal, a good indication that the storm had dropped a couple of inches of rain, which he always welcomed. The water flowed from the mountains down to the pasture for his cattle. From the looks of the rapidly cascading water, he surmised there were no more blockages upriver.
Finding the severed tree resting by the side of the creek, he squatted at the base of the trunk and examined the cuts in the bark indicating an ax had been used to fell the tree.
Someone had intentionally sabotaged the creek so the water supply to the cattle would be cut off. Had that same someone intended for him to find the blockage? He had proof the whole scene had been a setup of some kind—an aching head and a woman who’d saved him from a sure departure from earth.
He shivered at how close he’d come to meeting his death, and the thought of never seeing his daughter again. Laura was his life, a twelve-year-old pixie whom he adored and would do anything for. Knowing too well the devastation of losing someone you loved, J.T. was grateful God had seen fit to spare Laura from losing him. Especially at such a tender age.
“The shack is cleaned—”
Startled, J.T. stood, spun around, and crouched, ready to face his adversary. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and a shaft of pain detonated in his head. He hadn’t heard Caitlan approach—no crunch of boots over the soil and brush, no rustle of clothing, nothing.
“Damn! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Straightening, he speared his fingers through his hair and took a breath to calm the pitching in his stomach. “After what happened yesterday I’m strung as tight as a bow.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I only wanted to tell you the fire in the wood stove is out and the shack is straightened. We can start back to the ranch.” She held up a bulky knapsack for him to see. “I packed some beef jerky and filled a canteen with bottled water.” She thrust her other hand toward him. “And I found a jacket in the cupboard for you.”
The vise of pain in his head eased and his pulse returned to normal. He took the jacket, staring down at Caitlan’s upturned face. “Thanks,” he murmured, shrugging into the jacket and zipping it. He noticed she’d put on her own jacket. “I’m beginning to think you’re a regular girl scout.”
“I just like to make the best of a situation.”
“So do I,” he agreed, wondering if taking advantage of her damp, parted lips would be considered making the best of a situation. Her hair looked soft and inviting with the sun dancing upon it. The strands ruffled about her head like a curtain of silk, enhancing those bluer-than-blue eyes of hers.
Looking away, he absently kicked a small rock with the toe of his boot. “I wanted to check out the area before we left. I was hoping to find something to give me a clue as to who might have done this. All I know is that the tree was purposely cut and situated across the creek to stop the flow of water to the main pasture.”
Frowning, she glanced at the crystal-clear water rippling downstream. “Why would someone do that?”
“Hell if I know.” Frustration gnawed at him. “The only thing I can figure, if this was a deliberate sabotage attempt, is that the water would back up and flood the pasture, making it too marshy for grazing. But that doesn’t explain why I got clubbed.”
She transferred her gaze back to him. “Why would someone want to harm you?”
“I don’t know.”
Her brows creased, and J.T. found he wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkle with his thumb. Thrusting his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, he stared out across his land. “Maybe a transient hit me over the head.” Even to his own ears, the explanation sounded like a last-ditch effort to convince himself he wasn’t on someone’s hit list. “Maybe he wanted my horse, and that’s why no one has come looking for me yet. If Quinn never made it back to the Circle R, Frank, my foreman, probably thinks I spent the night in the line shack and am out assessing any damage done by the storm.”
“Maybe, but you said the tree was cut deliberately. Why would a drifter go to that much trouble—?”
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted, anger coiling inside him. �
��Maybe I’m just making excuses because I don’t want to believe I have an enemy nearby, or that I’ll have to watch my back twenty-four hours a day.” He glanced at her. “At any rate, when we do get back I’m going to tell everyone I had an accident, that I slipped and fell and knocked myself out and you found me.”
“Why not tell the truth? That someone tried to kill you?”
“I don’t want whoever is behind this stunt to panic because everyone is searching for him. I want this person to feel confident so he’ll try something else. I plan to get this son of a bitch, Caitlan.”
She worried her bottom lip, her eyes clouding with concern. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
J.T. resented being disputed by a woman, especially one he didn’t really know. He leaned close, making sure she saw how dead serious he was. “It doesn’t matter much what you think, Caitlan. This is my ranch. While you’re at the Circle R you’ll follow my rules. Got that?”
Her chin thrust out and she met his gaze steadily. “Yes, sir.”
Why did he get the feeling she was mocking him? “I owe you a great deal,” he conceded softly. “You did save my life.”
One of those secret smiles curved her mouth and she shrugged off his gratitude, as if saving lives was a regular habit of hers. “I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
“Lucky me, huh?”
“I’d like to think so.”
Something inside J.T. shifted at her softly spoken words. A sharp pang of emotion he vaguely recognized as longing pierced him. Rolling his shoulders to shrug off the sensation, he grasped her elbow and guided her around the tree. “Come on—let’s get moving. Once the sun goes down it gets damn cold. No offense to the stew and peaches you made, but I have to admit I’m looking forward to Paula’s chili and cornbread.”
“No offense taken.” Caitlan fell into step beside him as he started away from the creek through an open pasture. He let go of her arm and she lost that delicious warmth he seemed to generate within her. Curious to know more about him, and wanting to fill the silence between them, she asked, “Who’s Paula?”
His stride was steady yet reserved, to save his energy for the long trek ahead. “My foreman’s wife. She keeps an eye on my daughter, Laura, while I’m working. She cooks for us and takes care of the main house.”
Caitlan slung the knapsack over her shoulder.
“You have a daughter, but you’re not married?”
“No.”
The word was spoken with such finality, Caitlan automatically thought the worst. “Did your wife die?”
His gaze cut to hers, a sardonic smile on his lips. “No, she left me for something better and more exciting.”
Caitlan’s cheeks grew warm. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he replied, bitterness seeping into his deep voice. “It was for the best. She’s been gone almost ten years.”
His tone was cold and harsh and didn’t welcome further scrutiny of his ex-wife. Casting a glance at the chiseled lines of his profile, she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the deep furrow of his brow. Both belied his attempt to remain unconcerned about the topic. “Don’t you ever get ... lonely? I mean, not having a wife and all?”
“No. I have Laura.”
His pace picked up, forcing Caitlan to quicken hers to stay by his side. “That’s not what I meant.”
“The only thing I miss is a warm body to share my nights with. Sex, Caitlan.” His jaw hardened and he shot her a scathing look. “Other than that, I don’t have any use for a wife. And my personal life is really none of your business.”
She glanced away. He was right, of course. Meddling in his affairs wasn’t on her heavenly agenda, yet she found it odd he didn’t want the intimacy and love that flowed between a man and a woman. Such emotion seemed to be the ultimate aspiration of most mortals.
An arctic gust kicked up, slicing through the warm sunshine to maliciously steal the warmth from their bodies. She shivered and watched J.T. flip the collar of his jacket around his neck to ward off the brisk breeze. Shoulders hunched, he tucked his hands into the lined pockets. The wind tugged at his hair, tousling the thick strands around his bent head. He seemed so much the loner, suddenly distant and remote, yet the glimpses of sincerity she’d seen told her he was a compassionate man who deserved the love of a good woman.
“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to share his life with someone,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him.
He heard her and met her gaze. “The person I wanted to share my life with died, Caitlan. I’ve never wanted anyone but her.” The desolation in his eyes made his words that much more profound.
Instinctively, Caitlan knew the woman he spoke of was his eternal soulmate. But didn’t J.T. realize he could find another to love while waiting for the woman of his heart? He only needed to allow himself the emotion to live out his years happily. “You could still be happy with someone else—”
Slicing a hand through the air, he cut her off, slanting her a look of disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one or those females who believes in fairy tales and happily-ever-after.”
“Well, yes, I believe everyone has a soulmate, and what’s more—”
He interrupted her again. “I hate to be the one to burst the bubble you’ve been living in, little girl, but Cinderella and Prince Charming only exist in books. And ‘soulmates’ went out with the seventies.”
His subtle insult made her bristle. “I’m hardly a little girl.”
Stride slowing to a leisurely pace, he slid his gaze over her, lazily, thoroughly, making her feel as though he’d physically caressed the length of her with his hands. Heat suffused her body, making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other without wondering if her legs would hold out or turn to mush. She felt as if she was melting, which was ridiculous, considering the windchill factor. By the time he finished his inspection and had the good manners to lift his gaze from the vicinity of her breasts, she knew she was in big trouble.
“Pardon me, Ms. Daniels,” he replied in a silky drawl that stroked over her senses and tickled her belly. “You’re absolutely right. I take that back. You’re very much a woman. Built quite nicely, I might add.” A wicked, unrepentant grin curved his lips. “However, your philosophy on love is right along the mentality of my daughter’s. She thinks everything is hearts and flowers. She’s just discovering boys, so I can understand her romantic notions.”
What could she say to top that? Nothing, so she didn’t try. Once her mission with J.T. was over, she was going to discuss his single status with her Superiors. Surely there was someone for him.
They walked into a channel between two grassy knolls. The sun struggled to break through the canopy of trees surrounding them and failed. A shiver chased down her spine. “It’s getting cold. Where are we?”
“We’re still on Rafferty land. I’m taking a short cut to the main ranch road.” He rubbed his forehead, frowning. “Just keep walking. It’ll keep you warm and your blood pumping.”
“Don’t you want to stop and rest?” He looked tired, and she wouldn’t be surprised if his head was throbbing. “Maybe have a drink of water and some beef jerky?”
He briefly glanced at the knapsack. “No. I want to get back to the house as soon as possible.”
“Your head—”
“Is fine. I’ll let you know if I need a break.”
How am I suppose to take care of him and protect him when he won’t let me? “Fine,” she replied, deciding to play the game by his rules. “Just don’t pass out on me, because I refuse to drag you back to the shack.”
He chuckled softly, and Caitlan decided she loved the deep, rumbly sound. “I promise,” he said.
The path they followed narrowed, the grass tapering to dirt and rocks. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her hand, enveloping her fingers in his. “Be careful. It’s a little rough through here.”
Caitlan stumbled over a cluster of small rocks, unsure if her bal
ance had been knocked off kilter by the terrain or by the man whose hand held hers with such gentleness and care. As she careened toward him, his other hand shot out to steady her, landing on the swell of her hip. Shocked to the tips of her toes by the current of heat spreading where his fingers pressed into her flesh, she dropped the knapsack. The bag fell to the ground at her feet with a muted thump. Catching her breath, she stared into his eyes, watching as the orbs darkened in slow, tempered degrees.
The unusual connection she’d felt to this man earlier stirred within her, a bond so deep it shook her to the core of her being. A warm ripple of excitement teased her body. What is happening to me? she wondered. Why do I feel this way?
“Hey, you okay?”
Snapped from her daze by his concern, she pushed the disturbing thoughts aside for another time. “Umm, yes. I should have paid more attention to where I was going.” Then, ensnared by his gaze, she said the silliest thing. “Your eyes remind me of fresh moss dusted with gold.”
“Like the moss that grows on the rocks in the stream?” His palm slowly slid from her hip to the indentation of her waist beneath the jacket she wore.
She managed a nod, her throat too dry to speak.
“How flattering.” His voice was low and husky and full of a playful charm Caitlan suspected he didn’t use very often. He stared at her as if seeing someone else, and the hard edge of his jaw softened. “And your eyes remind me of ...” He caught what he’d been about to say and gave his head a slight shake, as if dislodging the thoughts in his mind.
Sorrow flickered in his eyes and, strangely, Caitlan felt his sadness as if it were her own. She didn’t understand its source, and as she reached out to touch his face and offer what comfort she could, he saw her intent. Abruptly, he let her go and stepped away. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she tried to sort through the upheaval of rampant emotions in her. But how did she begin to understand something so powerful and foreign in her experience as a guardian angel?
J.T. bent down and picked up the knapsack, still unable to believe he’d almost told Caitlan her eyes reminded him of lush violets. How incredibly stupid and sappy. Damn. He’d wanted her to touch him in the worst way, but he knew if she did, he’d go up in smoke and take her with him.
Kiss of an Angel Page 4