“Do you like anything special for lunch?” she asked, slamming the door and looking in through the window, anger simmering in her tone.
He looked at her then. It was safe; he couldn’t reach her. But why the spurt of temper? Her eyes were icy as they glared back at him. For a moment he wondered if she had wanted him to kiss her. It hit him hard in the gut.
“Anything you fix: will be fine.” Anything you do will be fine, he thought, unable to look away from the icy disdain in her blue eyes.
“All I can say is you don’t seem like a wild hellion to me. I think you’re nothing but a…but a… but a pussycat!” Turning, Kelly marched up her driveway and around to the back of her house, head held high, back rigid and straight.
Kit stared after her in amazement, his eyes tracking her until she disappeared from view. A pussycat? Dammit! For two cents he’d go after her and make her eat her words.
His hand gripped the door handle. He paused. The gleam in his eyes was sudden. He’d wait. Tomorrow he’d have her alone, out on the Smiths’ ranch, totally at his mercy. Then he’d show her what a pussycat he was.
Chapter 5
The next morning promised to be as hot as the previous one. Kelly dressed in a loose yellow top and white shorts. In deference to any walking they might do at the Smiths’ ranch, she wore socks and tennis shoes, instead of sandals. Her feet were hot before she finished tying the laces. She drew her hair back into a high ponytail to keep it off her neck.
Preparing the picnic lunch, Kelly hoped she had things he’d like, wishing she had a basket. Stuffing everything into a paper bag and a cooler, she located an old blanket, got her sketch pad and stacked everything on the front porch. She didn’t know when he’d arrive, but she was ready.
Kelly was surprised at the surge of pure joyt that swept through her when Kit drove up. She had a hard time keeping the smile from splitting her face as she gathered her things and walked slowly to the truck. No sense letting him know how glad she was to see him. She was sure the feeling wasn’t mutual. She still wondered why he’d offered to take her to see the pony.
“Good morning,” she said, peering into the cab.
“Put the things in the back and let’s go.”
She complied, quickly opening the passenger door and climbing in.
“Don’t you ever use normal social amenities like good morning, how are you, nice to see you?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt.
“Why?” He threw the truck into reverse and backed quickly to the highway, then accelerated.
“It’s a polite way to greet people when you haven’t seen them in a while.”
“I saw you yesterday.”
“That’s a while.” A long while if you were counting minutes.
“If I wanted to chat up some woman, I might try it. Otherwise, why bother? You see me. What does hi accomplish.”
She shrugged, no longer willing to argue about something so unimportant. She was going to enjoy today, no matter how obnoxious Kit Lockford became. She could handle him. She’d had a long talk with herself last night and was ready to deal with the man today. She hoped.
She watched as the familiar scenery rushed by. She’d driven this road a couple of times when first exploring the area. The hills rose and fell with regularity, deserted and barren except for the drying grass and enclosing barbed-wire fences. Here and there a group of live oaks offered relief from the monotonous scenery. The sky was cloudless, pale blue and brassy. The sun was already hot, and the worst heat of the day was still ahead.
Kit turned onto a dirt trail barred by a metal gate.
“Open it, wait for me to drive through, then close it behind us,” he said as he stopped.
“Can we go there?”
“Sure, as long as we close the gate behind us.”
She jumped down from the high cab and quickly unlatched the metal gate. It was lightweight, easy to move as she swung it wide so the truck could pass. Closing it behind them, she double-checked the latch to make sure it was fastened. Then she got back in the truck.
“Fasten your seat belt tight. It’ll get bumpy from here and I don’t want you to hit your head,” Kit instructed.
Kelly glanced at him. He probably didn’t want her head to dent the roof of his truck. She doubted he had any concerns for her safety. Yet as she complied, she noticed he’d already fastened his own belt.
They followed the dirt road for a while then Kit swung left, put his truck into four-wheel drive and began climbing one of the low hills. The truck lurched and bounced as it traversed the natural terrain, spinning up dirt, leaving a trailing plume of dust behind.
Reaching the summit of the small hill, Kit paused and looked around. In the distance, to the right, another small grove of live oaks rose from the grassy hill. Beneath the trees, near the edge of sunlight, stood the black pony.
They reached the trees in only minutes, Kit taking care to cover the last quarter mile slowly and easily so as not to spook the pony.
His brown eyes watching curiously, the pony stood his ground as the truck approached, Kelly held her breath, afraid he’d turn and run away. But his ears pricked forward, his nostrils flared slightly, as he watched. He didn’t seem afraid, only curious.
Kit stopped, turned off the engine. Silence swept through the cab. There was only the heat rising from the ground, from the engine cover, shimmering in waves. Otherwise there was silence. Silence as Kelly had never heard before. She could hear her own breathing. Hear Kit’s.
“We’ll sit beneath the trees. It’ll be cooler there.”
“Okay.” She opened the door, her eyes still on the pony. He ambled closer, curious. Smiling in delight, she stretched out a hand. As he drew nearer, she reached out and tentatively stroked his soft, hot neck, the black hair retaining the heat from the sun.
“There’s a small brown bag in the back. Get it,” Kit called. He hadn’t moved, just sat watching her.
“What’s in it?” She turned to do as he’d asked.
“Carrots and apples. I thought the little guy would like a treat.”
She smiled as her heart almost exploded in tenderness at his thoughtfulness. What a complex man Kit Lockford was. Arrogant, bossy and bad tempered, yet kind enough to remember to bring a treat for a pony.
She grabbed the bag and opened it, taking out a carrot. Holding it away from her as if it might bite, or as if the pony would bite her, she approached him gingerly.
Kit chuckled. “He won’t bite you. Let him take a bite or two, then put the rest on your open palm. He’ll take it nicely.”
Kelly wasn’t too sure of that. The first crunch startled her and she dropped the carrot. The pony nuzzled her hand, then dropped his head to forage on the grass, finding and finishing the carrot.
Kit slid across the seat, out of the truck, balanced on his crutches. He moved beside Kelly and balanced on the crutches. He took her hand in his, taking another carrot from the bag. When the pony approached, Kelly tried to shrink back, but Kit’s bulk was behind her, solid and unmoving. His hand held hers firmly as she offered the treat.
When the pony daintily bit off two chunks, Kit turned her hand, opening and placing the remaining carrot flat. “Now hold still.”
Soft velvety lips brushed over her palm and seized the carrot. Crunching placidly, the pony finished it.
She smiled in sheer happiness. “That was great!” She turned and found herself against Kit, his arm still half around her, balanced on his crutches. Her smile faded as she met the look in his eyes. She was caught, couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. Could only look deep into his dark blue eyes and feel herself captivated as she’d never been before. Her breathing became constricted and she felt dizzy, disoriented. Taking a deep breath, she knew it had been a mistake. She smelled the drying grass, the pony and the hot, masculine scent of Kit Lockford.
The pony butted her in the back, searching for more treats. Kelly lost her balance and crashed into Kit, her soft breasts pressed against his hard chest, h
er legs brushing against the soft denim of his jeans. He lost his balance and fell back against the side of the truck. Both remained upright, though his arms dropped the crutches to enclose Kelly and keep her from falling.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said against his shoulder, her head naturally finding a comfortable spot. “Are you okay?”
She pushed back, but he wouldn’t let her go. She felt the muscles of his chest bunch beneath her, his legs long and hard. As she moved to find her balance, her hips brushed against him and she froze a second, feeling the unmistakable sign this man wanted her.
She pushed back, meeting his amused eyes. Flustered and embarrassed and a little aroused herself, she tried to stand, brushing against him again, her breasts tingling with desire as waves of realization rippled through her. Her hands clutched his shoulders and she had to stop herself from tracing the muscles she could feel beneath her fingers. She tried to push away from the solid wall of his chest, but the proximity drained her strength. It was a fight to move away.
“I’m okay,” she said breathlessly.
“I’m not,” he said, and lowered his head to her parted lips.
Kelly closed her eyes against the bright sky and gave herself up to the pleasure of his kiss. His lips moved against hers, his tongue traced the seam of hers, before sliding through to explore the soft inner reaches of her mouth.
His hands held her loosely, his mouth doing all the work, driving her crazy with longings and desire. She met his thrusting tongue with her own, tasting his own special sweetness, following back to his mouth. She pressed closer, responding avidly to the sensations and enchantment his touch delivered.
Giving into desire, she let her hands move across his shoulders, to the strong column of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin, the soft hair that brushed against her fingers as she reached up to encircle him.
Another nudge from the pony broke the kiss.
“Hey, go find your own girl,” Kit protested, trying to protect Kelly from the curiosity of the pony.
She giggled slightly and reluctantly pulled back, embarrassed by the instant response she’d given. Turning to pick up the bag of treats from where she’d dropped it on the ground, her shaky fingers withdrew a piece of fruit.
“Here’s an apple.” She held it out gingerly, her fingers dancing around the edge as the pony bit into it.
“You’re a pushy little thing,” she said as he butted her chest with his forehead, his soft lips nibbling around her hand.
“Sam.” Kit still leaned against the truck, watching than, his expression relaxed.
“What?” She looked at him.
“His name’s Sam.”
“That’s not a very pony name.” She looked back at the little pony. He had apparently figured out there were no more treats and was calmly grazing on some of the drying grass.
Kit chuckled, his arms crossed across his chest.
“What’s a pony name?” he asked.
Kelly thought for a moment that that was what he had looked like before the accident. His eyes were amused, his look superior and arrogant, like the supremely self-confident man he was. To look at him she couldn’t tell he was unable to walk unaided. He looked virile, muscular and potent. Too potent for her.
She casually reached down and picked up his crutches, handing them to him without a word, and without a look of sympathy.
“I don’t know. Popo’s not bad. Trigger, maybe, or Silver? But not Sam.”
He took the crutches, his eyes on her, tension now evident in his face. His concentration seemed to be on how she was treating him.
“Sam’s as good as any.”
“He still looks sad,” she said. She refused to let him dwell on his limitations, or make her dwell on them.
“He looks like a pony.” Kit scowled and pushed away from the truck, moving over the broken ground toward the shade.
“What did you bring for lunch?” he asked.
She closed the door and reached into the back of the truck for the picnic she’d brought. Carting everything to the shade beneath the old trees, she dropped the bag and cooler and spread the blanket out on the most level spot she could find.
Kit stood at the blanket’s edge for a long time, considering how to get down. Damnation. He shouldn’t have brought her. Should never have agreed to a picnic. First there was the problem of getting down. Then how would he get back up?
He turned away, considering the distance back to the truck. Maybe he’d just sit in there and forget…
“Are you scouting for Indians, or are you going to sit down here and eat?” she asked as she began drawing things from the brown bag. She spread a small tablecloth in the center of the blanket and drew out the sandwiches she’d made earlier. Opening the cooler, she withdrew the mayonnaise. She just had to coat the bread, and the sandwiches would be ready to eat.
“I’m not sure I can,” Kit said, looking down at her.
Kelly understood instantly.
She stood slowly, brushing the crumbs from her fingertips and walking over to Kit. He was so tall standing there proudly, anger and bitterness shining from his face. It must be awful.
She stood up to him and met his gaze straight on.
“I’m only going to say this once.”
“I don’t want pity,” he snapped.
She looked surprised, then nodded. “Okay. Try this on. Why did you bring me here?”
He stared down at her, unable to tell her he wanted to be with her, spend time with her. For a moment he forgot where they were. He could lose himself in those sparkling eyes of hers. Her silky white-blond hair tantalized him, enticed him to tangle his rough hands in it, comb the silky softness through his fingers. Her long brown legs tempted him in a different manner and it was all he could do to keep from saying it to her.
“You wanted to see the pony,” he said at last.
“Yes, I did. Why did you bring me?”
“Who else would?”
“Why did you?” she persisted.
“Dammit, I don’t know. I knew you wanted to use him in your story and thought you’d like to see him close up. I was just trying to help.”
She smiled as if he’d just won first prize at the county fair. “Help me, huh?”
“Kelly, it isn’t-“
“Kit Lockford, did you help me because you pity me?” She’d make a fine actress, he thought, studying her stricken look. Only the dancing lights in her eyes betrayed her.
“Dammit, Kelly, it’s not—”
“Did you!” She pushed a sharp index finger against his chest, forcing him to answer her.
“No, of course not.”
“Then I can help you sit down and get up and we’ll get this picnic on the road.” She tilted her head and stared at him as if daring him to defy what she’d said.
“I can get down all right. I can always just fall. It’s getting back up I don’t think I can do. And I’m too heavy for you to lift.”
Her finger softened and two others joined it as she slid them between the gaps of his buttons. Lightly she stroked the heated skin of his chest, just an inch or two, but Kit felt as if his whole body was on fire for her.
“I’m very strong,” she said softly, her eyes like liquid pools of deep blue water. Her voice a whisper, like the wind through the treetops on a summer day. He sighed. He was lost and he knew it. But he wouldn’t let her know.
“All right. If you have to drive out by yourself and get Clint, it’ll serve you right,” he said, moving to the edge of the blanket.
Kelly thought he moved gracefully as he sank onto the blanket. He had some strength in his left leg, and used that to get down. She fixed the lunch and they ate companionably watching the pony graze, staring out over the rolling grasslands.
When they’d finished, he leaned back on his elbows to watch as Kelly drew out her sketch pad and began bringing the pony to life on the pages beneath her fingers. It was hot, dry and still. She was glad she’d brought so much soda. They’d both finished one
with lunch and she already had a second.
“How come you never came to visit Margaret while she was alive?” he asked after a long time.
“I didn’t know about her,” she replied, filling in some of the background around the pony. Flipping to a clean sheet, she tried to capture the pony taking the apple.
“What do you mean? She left her house to you, didn’t she? How could you not know her?”
“Actually, she left her house to my mother, or her issue. My mother died years ago, so according to the attorneys, I got it through her. She was Aunt Margaret’s only niece.”
Kelly put the pad down and turned a bit so she could see Kit as she talked to him. See exactly what his reactions were when she told him about herself. So far Molly Benson was the only one she’d told about her family. How would Kit feel?
“My mother wasn’t married to my father. Her family cast her off before I was born. As far as I know, there was never any attempt made to heal the breach. That much I learned from the attorney when he located me. My mother died before I was four.”
“Four? Where did you live?”
“An assortment of foster homes in and around San Francisco. The longest one was for three years. But then they got transferred and I was assigned to a different one.”
She tried to keep the bleakness from her voice. She didn’t want Kit’s pity about her childhood any more than he wanted pity because of his physical limitations. But she could see from his look she’d not been successful.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he did speak, he surprised her. “So that’s why you thought a large family was so special?” He’d remembered what she’d said.
She nodded. “One day I want to get married and have about fifteen children. I want to have a family around me, and… and feel like I belong somewhere.” She’d never told anyone else about her desire to belong somewhere. Would he think she was foolish wishing to belong?
He nodded. “I can understand that. I’ve belonged here forever. I can’t even imagine what it would have been like not to have both parents, all my aunts, uncles, grandparents. Cousins.” He frowned. “Though I could use a few less cousins. You want some of mine?”
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