She attempted to glare at him for laughing at her expense, but he saw the sparkle of humor in her eyes. “Thanks a bunch, Rafferty. This is your fault, you know.”
Hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, he lifted a brow. “Really?”
She straighten moderately and gave another moan for the effort it cost her. “I’m not used to riding so hard. I hurt in places I didn’t know I could hurt.”
“Then maybe you ought to ride more often, city girl,” he drawled. “You’re too soft.” He knew that much for a fact.
His playful goad backfired on him. “Well, maybe I’ll take you up on your offer, considering I’ll be here for a while.”
The group of men started toward them, headed by his cousin Randal, preventing J.T. from responding to her comment. By the looks of collective interest and speculation cast Caitlan’s way, J.T. knew he’d have to set some ground rules for the men living in the bunk house—Caitlan was off limits and he wouldn’t tolerate any advances made toward her during her stay at the ranch.
Ever the womanizer, Randal chased anything with breasts and long legs, and Caitlan definitely fit that bill. However, Randal looked more intent on throttling Caitlan than trying to flirt with her, which surprised J.T. Curiosity over the ominous looks Randal cast Caitlan mingled with a sense of relief J.T. didn’t want to analyze too deeply. At least he wouldn’t have to battle with Randal for making a move on Caitlan, and cause more discord between himself and his cousin.
“Who is this?” Randal demanded.
J.T. stared at Randal’s matted blond hair and bloodshot brown eyes and guessed his cousin was suffering from one helluva hangover, which explained, not excused, his surly attitude. Glancing over Randal’s shoulder to the other hands, he gave them a brisk nod of acknowledgment. “Would you mind excusing us for a few minutes?”
The men dispersed without question, one of them taking Quinn to cool the horse down for the boss. Beside him, Caitlan shifted on her feet, and when he looked at her he wondered at the intent way she studied Randal. Once the hands were out of earshot J.T. turned back to his cousin, whose face was now flushed.
“This is Caitlan Daniels,” J.T. explained. “She’s from Parson’s Dude Ranch and happened to get lost on Rafferty property.”
“All the way from the dude ranch?” Randal’s scowl deepened. “Parson’s is eight miles away. That’s impossible!”
A wry smile tugged at J.T.’s mouth. “About as impossible as the bridge over the American River collapsing, but it happened.”
“I was sightseeing on my own and lost my way,” Caitlan interrupted, striving to substantiate her presence.
“Stupid female,” Randal said, his gaze slurring over her as insolently as his words. “Didn’t you see the private property signs posted on the main road and fence posts? Maybe charges of trespassing would make you think twice before you wandered off on your own again.”
“Randal, cool it,” J.T. said in a deceptively mild voice that warned most people they were treading on very thin ice. J.T. was used to Randal’s explosive temper—worse since Randal’s father had died two months ago—but J.T. saw no justification in Randal’s hostility toward Caitlan for an incident that had resulted in more good than bad.
Randal’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if battling to contain the fury brewing in him. “Don’t you think it odd that she showed up out of nowhere—”
Lightning-fast, J.T. grabbed a fistful of Randal’s shirt, jarring the other man into submission. He heard Caitlan’s soft gasp at the aggressive move, but his only thought was to shut Randal up. “Good God, man! Who the hell cares where she came from?” He gave Randal a slight shake, then let go of the wad of material in his hand. Randal stumbled back, eyes wide. “Caitlan saved my life. Didn’t Kirk and Frank tell you about my accident and how she found me?”
Caitlan watched Randal transform from raging madman to subdued composure in the blink of an eye. The abrupt change made her wary and cautious.
“Yeah. Sorry.” Discreetly straightening his shirt, he shoved his fingers into his hair, which did nothing to tame the thick, unwashed strands. “I don’t know what came over me. We’ve all been so worried about you. I’m glad to see you’re okay.” He glanced at Caitlan and smiled, but she saw the resentment and bitterness banked in the depths of his eyes. “I guess you’re lucky this woman came along when she did. No telling what would have happened to you if she hadn’t.”
Caitlan didn’t miss the flash of challenge in his eyes, and gave him a demure smile in return. A muscle in his cheek twitched, and she saw the beginnings of that madman surface again.
Unaware of the turmoil between his cousin and Caitlan, J.T. sighed tiredly. “I suggest you lay off the bottle, Randal. You know I’ll do whatever I can to help you with your father’s debts, but I won’t put up with your mood swings.”
The fire in Randal’s gaze blazed an infuriated molten gold, but J.T. didn’t see it. He’d glanced beyond Randal, a warm smile teasing his mouth. Caitlan followed his line of vision to a willowy young girl running down a path from the main house toward them, her long mahogany hair streaming down her back in wild abandon. In her wake, a woman with shoulder-length blond hair followed at a more leisurely pace, and tagging along were two tow-headed girls bundled in jeans and jackets.
“Dad, you’re home!” the young girl squealed, launching herself into J.T.’s arms. The expression on her pretty face brimmed with unconditional love.
J.T. laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle, and swung her around in a big bear hug. “Of course I am, Smidget.” He set her down, grinning as he chucked her affectionately under the chin.
She looked up at him, green eyes crowded with concern. “I was so worried when Quinn came back last night without you. Uncle Kirk said you had an accident.”
“I’m fine, Laura,” he assured her gently. “Just a little bump on my head, but it’ll take more than that to get rid of your old man.”
Caitlan watched the reunion, a feeling of rightness ribboning through her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a stiff movement from Randal, a slight bristling as he straightened his lanky frame. Randal watched J.T. with Laura, his eyes narrowing to menacing slits before he turned and stormed away. No one but Caitlan seemed to notice Randal’s malevolence—or if they did, no one made mention of it.
A shiver of apprehension passed through Caitlan. J.T. seemed to treat Randal’s animosity as a common occurrence, which made her wonder what kind of relationship the cousins shared. She knew without summoning her Superior that Randal was the man she had to protect J.T, from. The vibrations of evil and hatred emanating from Randal were so strong and gripping, Caitlan shuddered to think such a person was free to come and go at will. And why didn’t J.T. see the threat Randal posed?
There was nothing she could do about Randal, except make sure he didn’t harm her ward. One of the first lessons she’d learned as a guardian angel was that she was to interfere as little as possible with destiny—less for the Superiors to cover up or repair once the mission was complete. Her job was to protect and nothing more. J.T. had to learn for himself who stalked him.
“Uncle J.T.!” the two little blue-eyed girls chorused as they neared. A moment later they clamored around him, and J.T. obligingly squatted so they could smother him with hugs and wet, smacking kisses.
He grinned, receiving his penance for his absence with obvious relish. “How are my favorite nieces?”
“Uncle J.T.,” one of the sprites chided, eyes sparkling. “We’re your only nieces!”
He tapped her on the nose and received a girlish giggle in response. “You’re getting too smart for me.”
Standing, he approached the other woman and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Hi, Deb.”
“Hi yourself.” Tilting her head to the side, she shoved her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans. “You really had everyone worried. When Kirk left at dawn to search for you I knew it was serious.”
His quick, devilish smile wa
s meant to reassure. “Your brother wouldn’t dare leave you with a ranch to run and an extra hellion to raise.” He punctuated that statement with a wink to his daughter.
Debbie’s mouth curved with sibling fondness. “He’d better not.”
Caitlan marveled at how at ease J.T. was with his family, so openly caring and warm, a direct contrast to the temperamental man who’d just accompanied her from the line shack—the man with a melange of emotions churning within him.
“Who’s that, Dad?” Laura asked, nodding toward Caitlan, her eyes shimmering with questions and blatant interest.
“This is Caitlan Daniels, and I’ll explain the details once we get up to the main house,” he said, then began a round of introductions. “Caitlan, I’d like you to meet my daughter Laura, my sister Debbie, and my two nieces, Brittany, who is eight, and Alisha, who just turned seven,” he added, pointing to the girls peeking at her curiously from his side.
Caitlan accepted each of their greetings of hello with a smile. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”
“You have pretty eyes,” Alisha said shyly, moving closer to her mother.
“Thank you,” Caitlan replied softly, too aware of J.T.’s eyes on her.
Brittany swept Caitlan with a head-to-toe inspection. “Were you with my uncle last night?”
“Honey,” Debbie interrupted, trying not to grin at her young daughter’s impudence, “that’s not a polite question to ask.”
Brittany frowned at her mother. “Why not?”
“It’s okay,” Caitlan said before Debbie could dredge up an appropriate answer to appease her daughter’s innocent query. Addressing Brittany, she replied, “Yes, I was with your uncle last night, but only because he needed my help.”
“Oh. Are you and my uncle getting married?” Brittany’s delicate features were etched with solemn seriousness. “Mom is always saying that Uncle J.T. needs a wife.”
Caitlan glanced at J.T. and found him staring at his niece as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. Then he glanced at his sister, speculation glittering in the depths of those striking eyes. Laura giggled, and Debbie looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Brittany waited patiently for Caitlan’s response, childishly ignorant of the discomfort she’d cast among the adults. “Uh, no, we’re not getting married. We’re just friends,” she told the little girl.
J.T. cleared his throat and lifted an inquiring brow at Debbie.
“What?” she said defensively, an embarrassed flush sweeping across her cheeks. “I only mentioned it once or twice to Kirk in casual conversation. You know how the girls repeat everything they hear.”
J.T. gave her a pointed look, but an amiable smile teased his mouth. “Then watch what you say,” he said, his tone a gentle rebuke.
“Oh, Dad, it’s not a big deal,” Laura cut in, slipping her arm through his. “I’m just so glad you’re home. I missed you last night.” She glanced at Caitlan with sly smile, then looked back at her father. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered into his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear, “But I understand why you stayed out, and I want to let you know that I don’t mind at all. Next time, just make sure you let us know so we don’t worry.”
J.T.’s groan of defeat rolled into a deserving chuckle. Shaking his head, he looked at Debbie. “What happened to that angelic little girl of mine?”
“I grew up,” Laura replied with a self-important smile.
“It does happen,” Debbie agreed with a sigh, then offered Caitlan a friendly smile. “You two must be exhausted and hungry. Why don’t we go on up to the house where it’s warm?”
“Uncle Kirk said you saved my father’s life. I want to hear about it,” Laura said eagerly, eyes shining.
Caitlan didn’t have to see J.T.’s warning look to know he wanted her to tell his family the story he’d fabricated. As they followed the paved walkway to the house, she relayed the same story J.T. had told Kirk and Frank, with J.T. adding in the “accident” that had happened before she’d found him. Debbie and Laura expressed their gratitude that J.T. had been so fortunate, and his life had been spared.
The group clamored into the entryway of the ranch house. A cozy warmth greeted them, mingled with the thick, fragrant smell of spicy chili, heavy yeast, and a sweeter scent of pastries.
“God, that smells good,” J.T. said, shrugging out of his jacket. Hanging it in the coat closet, he helped Caitlan out of hers and added it to the rest.
“Paula’s been so nervous since they started searching for you this morning that she’s been cooking all your favorites,” Debbie told him.
J.T. grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling with humor. “I was hoping she would.” Then, to Caitlan, he explained, “Paula cooks like there’s no tomorrow when she’s nervous or worried.”
A woman in her mid-forties with soft blue eyes and short brown hair bustled out of a doorway, the worry on her brow vanishing when she spotted J.T. Frank followed close behind. “I thought I heard J.T. talking about me,” Paula said, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist.
“I sure was,” he admitted unabashedly, accepting her light, caring embrace. “I was just telling Caitlan here what a wonderful cook you are. Couldn’t manage without you, Paula.”
She looked him over, as if to reassure herself that he really was fine. “I’m relieved to see a black bear didn’t get your ornery hide.”
He grinned. “Nope. They wouldn’t dare mess with me.”
“And this must be Caitlan.” Paula grabbed Caitlan’s hand and gave it a congenial squeeze, bonding an instant friendship. “Frank told me the exciting story of how you saved J.T.’s life. I’ll tell you, J.T. must have had a guardian angel sitting on his shoulder!”
“I believe he did,” Caitlan replied with a smile.
“Caitlan will be staying with us for a while,” J.T. said brusquely, his tone suddenly businesslike.
Caitlan noticed she wasn’t the only one who’d caught J.T.’s abrupt shifting of mood, as if she was stepping too close to his territory and he didn’t like it and wanted distance.
Giving J.T. a purposeful look, Caitlan transferred her gaze back to Paula. “I’ll try and keep out of your way while I’m here.”
“Nonsense!” Paula waved a chiding hand through the air. “It’ll be nice having another woman around the house.”
J.T.’s lips thinned at that remark, but he remained silent.
“Hey, what about me?” Laura jumped in indignantly.
“Excuse me.” Paula’s gentle smile placated Laura. “I sometimes forget you’re not a little girl anymore. Come on, everyone, there’s plenty of food to eat.”
The group started toward the kitchen. Caitlan grabbed J.T.’s shirtsleeve. He stopped, his gaze traveling from the hand on his arm to her eyes.
“Yes?” he asked tightly, moving his arm so her fingers fell away.
Caitlan ignored the tingles on her palm and the odd yet deliciously exciting shivers racing down her spine. “I need to call Parson’s. May I use your phone, please?”
“Laura,” J.T. called, and his daughter stopped at the doorway connecting the foyer to the dining room to look back at him. “Would you show Caitlan my office so she can use the phone?”
“Sure, Dad.” Smiling, Laura nodded her head down the connecting hall. “Right this way, Caitlan.”
Caitlan followed Laura, recognizing J.T.’s strategy for the ploy it was—to avoid being alone with her any more than he had to. She felt his gaze on her back, and the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck tingled in acute awareness. With a soft curse, he turned and strode into the kitchen.
Laura glanced over her shoulder as J.T. disappeared from view, then leaned close to Caitlan. “So, tell me what really happened between you and my father.”
Caitlan eyed Laura, seeing the wistfulness in her gaze and a glimmer of hope. Not wanting to disillusion the young girl in any way, she strove to keep her answer simple and to the point. “Like your father said, I found him!”
&
nbsp; “Oh, how romantic,” Laura said on a dreamy sigh.
A wry smile found its way to Caitlan’s lips. “Your father has been anything but romantic.”
Laura stopped before a closed door at the end of the hall. Grasping Caitlan’s hand, Laura met her gaze. “You’ll have to excuse my dad. It’s been a long time since he’s really dated someone—”
“Laura, this isn’t what you think,” Caitlan said gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “Your father and I aren’t romantically involved.”
“Not yet,” she replied, her tone holding more insight than Caitlan would have liked.
“How old are you?” Caitlan asked, knowing the wisdom reflected in Laura’s eyes didn’t come close to matching her young years.
“Twelve.” Laura’s chin lifted haughtily. “Old enough to know that my father is interested in you.”
Shaking her head at the absurdity of that statement, Caitlan smoothed a strand of silky hair from Laura’s cheek. “Honey, the only thing your father is interested in is getting me off this ranch as soon as possible.”
Laura’s lips pursed. Eyes identical to her dad’s flashed knowingly. “It’s the way he watches you when he thinks no one is watching him,” she said in a low voice, glancing covertly around them to make sure they were still alone. “I’ve never seen such a soft look in his eyes. It’s the kind of look Aunt Debbie gives Uncle Kirk sometimes, and then they’ll sneak off somewhere to kiss and do other things …” Her words trailed off when she realized her slip, her face turning crimson.
Caitlan understood Laura’s compulsion to find someone for her father, but matchmaking her and J.T. was strictly out of the question. Nothing good would come from it, and the interference would only make things more difficult and awkward while she protected J.T. “Laura, don’t get your hopes up for something that’s not there. The only reason I’m here is because of my own stupidity and the fact that the bridge is out.”
Kiss of an Angel Page 6