Cole moved in closer. "Meagan, I,"
Meagan forced all emotion aside. She didn't want Cole's sympathy, nor did she want to talk about her mother. She changed the subject. "I don't think the fire was an accident."
Cole's body tensed as his eyes probed hers. "Why do you say that?"
"Everything happened so fast. I went to check on a newborn calf. I wasn't away more than fifteen minutes. I returned only seconds before you two showed up. I lit no fire, didn't cook anything. I didn't even light a lamp." Meagan shrugged, then added, "I can't think of anything that could have caused such a quick blaze."
"Did you see anything unusual, maybe hear a strange noise, something that didn't sound right?"
Meagan considered Cole's questions. She met his concerned gaze. "No."
"What about your brother?"
"Like I said," Meagan's gaze never wavered from his. "He was gone by the time I woke up. He comes and goes, that's nothing new."
Cole nodded. "Where was your father?"
Dread knotted Meagan's stomach. She slumped lower into the covers. "I don't feel so good, Stephen. I want to rest."
"Okay, Meagan." Stephen tucked the covers under her chin. "Tom wasn't in the cabin, was he?"
"No." Meagan felt her hands begin to tremble, and slipped them under the bedspread. "He's out of town."
"Good." Stephen caressed her cheek with his finger. "We'll let you rest now, Meagan. We'll talk later."
Cole walked nearer. "Where is he?"
"I don't feel up to talking right now," Meagan complained. It was the truth.
Stephen stood. "Let's go, Cole."
Cole didn't budge. "Not until Meagan tells me where her pa is."
His voice held a tone of suspicion, and Meagan stiffened. "He went to visit a sick relative in Denver." She resented Cole's attitude. He'd never liked her pa.
"I don't remember anyone mentioning that Tom was leaving."
Meagan dug herself in deeper with each lie. "I was supposed to do that. Pa was in a hurry to leave. He wasn't sure how long his uncle might live, so he asked me to send word that he'd be gone for a while. I didn't have a chance to send word yet."
"When did he leave?"
Meagan remembered the exact day she'd last seen her pa. "A while back," she answered vaguely, closing her eyes.
Stephen walked toward the door. "Let's go, Cole."
Meagan peeked at them through lowered lids and waited with bated breath for them to leave. Just as Cole was about to go, he stopped and turned back around to face her.
"Do you want us to contact your pa?"
A raw, primitive grief overwhelmed Meagan. She waited for it to recede. She could do this. Raising her lids, she stared straight at Cole. "No." Talking about her pa, as if he were still alive, was harder than she'd imagined. "He'll find out soon enough about the cabin. He has enough to worry about, and I'll be fine in a day or two." Her voice broke. Her pa wasn't coming home. That realization hurt almost as much now as it had three months earlier, when she'd found her Pa's unconscious body on the frozen ground just outside the barn door.
"Everything will work out," Cole reassured. "We'll rebuild the cabin. In the meantime, if you need anything, just ask. You can stay here, with us, until Tom gets back." His tone dropped an octave. "We'll take good care of you."
Meagan felt her face flush with anger as her insides twisted with resentment. She'd taken care of herself for months. Even with her pa dead and buried, she'd carried on, without help from anyone. How dare Cole stand there and treat her like a helpless female?
As fast as her anger rose, it subsided. She felt her shoulders droop and lowered her head. Who was she fooling? Of course she needed help, and a roof over her head. Cole was offering her what she needed. Time. Time to figure out a way to earn some money and get as far away from him as she could.
She pasted a smile on her face. She didn't acknowledge Cole's offer, but was wise enough not to refuse it. She sunk lower in the bed and closed her eyes. Several seconds passed before Meagan heard the door shut. She opened her eyes, surprised to find Stephen still in the room.
Stephen's expression was grim. "We need to talk."
Meagan sat up. "I told you I was tired."
Stephen proceeded toward her bed. "I know. I also know that you can't spend the rest of your life avoiding Cole."
"I'm not," Meagan insisted with a sharp shake of her head. It throbbed in protest of the action.
"You are, and you know it." Stephen sat back down. "I haven't pressed you on this for years, Meagan."
Meagan felt butterflies in her stomach. She didn't want to have this discussion. "Then don't start now," she advised.
"Meagan, Cole isn't the man you believe him to be. He's had some rough times."
"You told me that before, Stephen. Tell me what's happened to him?" she urged.
Stephen shook his head. "I can't. That's up to Cole to do."
"Why would he?"
"Because he feels terrible about what happened between you."
"He told you that?"
Stephen's shoulders slumped. "No."
"I thought not."
Stephen's lips thinned. "But I know it, Meagan. Couldn't you see that today?"
Meagan sunk against her pillow. Stephen was her friend. She didn't want to fight with him. "Can we talk about something else?"
Stephen looked ready to argue. Meagan forced a calm she didn't feel. "I mean it, Stephen."
Stephen stared at her through narrowed eyes. "Just stop hiding behind me, expecting me to cover for you."
"I don't do that," Meagan denied with a quick shake of her head.
"You've been doing it for years."
Meagan turned on her side, away from Stephen.
"You're going to be here for a while, Meagan. You'd better get used to having Cole around."
Meagan feigned sleep. She heard Stephen's footsteps against the floor, and waited until she heard the slight click of the door as it closed behind him. She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. Stephen was right. Cole was an inevitable part of her life. At least, she consoled herself, it would only be for a few weeks until she could decide what to do. Meagan pulled her pillow from beneath her head and covered her face with it. She could do this. Her eyes grew heavy, and she felt herself drifting off to sleep.
Cole glanced up at the darkening sky, then shifted his gaze to the window where he knew Meagan lay. He and Stephen had finished supper an hour ago, and Stephen had stated his intentions to visit Meagan. He hadn't seen him since. Cole opted to stay away, but was reconsidering the wisdom of his decision. It was time he made things right with Meagan. He entered the house and walked down a short hall to Meagan's room. He raised his hand, prepared to knock when the door opened. Stephen appeared.
Cole took two steps backwards. He caught a glimpse of wild honey hair flowing across milky white shoulders before Stephen shut the door. Cole focused his gaze on his brother. "Pa's heading to Tom's place to check out Meagan's suspicions about the fire. He's going to leave word with Pete as to Meagan's location, and then head into Meeker and spend a day or two there seeing if he can find out more about the rustlings."
Stephen nodded. He looked tired. "Good."
Cole followed Stephen down the hall. "Have you been with Meagan all this time?"
"Yep."
Cole wondered if Stephen's intentions toward Meagan were serious. His brother was infamous for breaking women's hearts. Meagan had been hurt enough by his callous actions, she didn't deserve to be tossed aside by Stephen, as well. Right now she was weak, vulnerable to Stephen's advances and too young to recognize what Stephen offered. "We need to talk."
Stephen turned to face him. "Oh?"
"About Meagan."
A strange expression crossed Stephen's features. "Oh."
A flicker of alarm shot through Cole. "What's the matter, Stephen? Did something happen in there?"
Stephen flashed him a guilty look. "I guess you could say that."
; He knew it. "Damn it Stephen, if you touched Meagan, I'll..."
"What!" Stephen stared, open mouthed, at him. "Hell, Cole, what would make you think something like that?"
Cole shot Stephen a sideways glance. "What is it then? What's wrong?"
Stephen's face turned a ruddy red. "I promised Meagan she could be our cook."
"You what!" It was the last thing Cole expected Stephen to confess.
"I had to, Cole," Stephen defended. "She kept talking about leaving, saying she was only a burden. She said she could go to Denver, meet her pa there."
"Damn, Stephen. Meagan can't be our cook." Cole stated the obvious.
"I know." Stephen ran his hand across his brow. "What are we going to do?"
"We," Cole emphasized, "are doing nothing." Cole began to see the humor in the situation. "I think you'd better talk to ma."
Stephen shook his head. "I can't."
Cole held his laughter in check. "Why not?"
"Because I'm scared."
Cole laughed then. He laughed so hard the walls vibrated. Stephen had done it this time, and for the first time ever, he had no desire to help Stephen out of his predicament. "You have two choices, Stephen. You go back in there and tell Meagan she can't be our cook, or you tell ma that the one thing she takes the most pride in, cooking for her family, has been hired out."
"But,"
Cole held up his hands to halt further protests. "Not this time, Stephen. You got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out of it."
Stephen sighed. "I'll talk to ma tomorrow." He headed toward his room, head down, shoulders slumped, hands stuck in his pockets.
Cole watched Stephen leave, his humor restored. He'd find out soon enough about Stephen's intentions toward Meagan. It was too late to visit Meagan tonight. Cole vowed to make things right with her tomorrow. He entered his room, undressed and slipped into bed. It felt like hours before he managed to fall into a light sleep. Visions of Meagan haunted his dreams.
Meagan awoke with a start. Dark shadows of furniture, illuminated by the glow of moonlight, danced before her as the curtains fluttered in the breeze created by the open window. She listened, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She'd heard something that didn't belong with the muted sounds of the night.
Wind blew through the trees, joined by an occasional chirp of a bug. Nothing unusual. Placing her bare feet against the cold wood floor, she paused. Still nothing.
Meagan rose and tiptoed to the door. She placed her ear against it but heard nothing. A sound had woken her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she discovered what it was. She grasped the cold, round handle on her door and turned it until she heard a click. She pushed against the textured wood surface, wincing at the loud squeak that followed.
She stood in a space just wide enough for her to slip through, and waited until she was sure she hadn't woken anyone. She made her way down the hall, her bare feet silent against the floor.
A deep, tortured moan broke the silence. It was the same sound she'd heard before, only louder, clearer. She glanced to her left, barely able to see the outline of a door through the shadowy darkness. Someone inside this room had made that noise. Meagan fumbled in the darkness until her hand curved around the handle. She turned it. The door opened without resistance.
Deep, labored breaths filled the room. Meagan didn't dare breathe as she waited. Another moan escaped into the night, and Meagan approached the bed as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.
She recognized Cole an instant before he shot up from bed and drug her towards him. Meagan struggled, but his steely grip never loosened. He crushed her against him as his lips covered hers, hard and searching.
Cole groaned as the image of Sam turned to one of Meagan. Sam was falling, but as he reached for her, it was Meagan he grabbed, pulling her from the flames that threatened to take her from him. He touched skin, warm and vibrant. He couldn't release her, wouldn't allow her to leave him. He wouldn’t allow her to die. As red hair turned blonde, he focused on Meagan’s face. Not Meagan, the child, but Meagan the woman, with enticing curves and soft, warm skin. He would protect her, never let her be hurt again. Her body molded to his, and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness of her lips.
He wanted her, needed her. She struggled, but he pulled her closer, his body on fire. He couldn't get enough as he drunk in the sweet smell of her and caressed her soft, velvet skin. His hands roamed over her body as he claimed her as his own. He hadn't let her fall. He'd saved her. She wouldn't die tonight. No one would die tonight.
Her struggles stopped. She relaxed against him, accepted him. His lips seared a path down her neck, her shoulders. She responded to his touch and pressed against him in an invitation for more. He'd saved her. She'd forgiven him. It was over. Cole fell into a deep sleep, his dreams sweetened with the taste of Meagan on his lips.
Meagan felt Cole go limp. His deep, even breaths penetrated her passion dazed mind. Cole was asleep! Meagan reached behind her and grasped his arms. She had to pry them from her. She slipped away from him and shivered as cool air touched her bare skin. Her body ached for Cole's touch. She studied the shadows of his face one last time, then turned and fled.
CHAPTER THREE
Meagan tiptoed over pebbles and dodged broken twigs with bare feet as she maneuvered her way to the creek. The sun peeked over the horizon and its welcome warmth engulfed her. Bethany's dress was flung over her left shoulder. She carried a pair of Bethany’s boots, which were a size too small, as well as a bar of soap in one hand while clutching tight to a mauve blanket she'd wrapped around her with the other.
She wished her boots had survived the fire. It took months to break in a good pair, and hers had fit perfectly. At least she'd managed to retrieve her coin from the charred remains before Stephen carried them off. She could hear the coin as it slid back and forth across the right boot of the pair she carried. It gave her a sense of much needed security.
She searched for a secluded area to bathe. A sense of freedom added a light, airy bounce to her step. It had been a week since she'd arrived at the ranch. A week of bed rest and healing. A week of worrying Cole might try to visit her. A week of resentment when he didn’t. It had been the longest week of her life.
Today, though, she felt wonderful. Her wounds were nearly healed, she was outside and nothing seemed more important to her than a good bathing.
She hadn't spoken to, or seen Cole since her uninvited visit to his room. Meagan shivered as a stiff morning breeze swirled around her. She'd responded like a trollop to Cole's advances. Her body yielded to him as if it yearned for the love that she’d so desperately wanted four years before.
If Cole had been awake...
That thought alone was enough to add pause to Meagan's step. If he'd been awake..., no. She shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted thought. She refused to consider that possibility. Cole had been dreaming. It was the only plausible explanation.
A narrow trail veered to the right. Meagan turned down it and proceeded with caution as she made her way toward the sound of running water. She exited into a clearing where a cluster of trees surrounded an intimate cove with a smooth rock bottom. A waterfall fed the cove and created a pool of crystal clear water.
Delighted with her find, Meagan hung Bethany's clothes across a low lying limb of an oak tree and allowed her blanket to slip through her fingers and fall to the ground. She shrugged off her chemise and slid into the icy cold water. She bent her knees until she was submerged to her chin. It was heavenly. Meagan laughed outright in her pleasure as she washed the grime from her hair. She stood beneath the waterfall and allowed its natural flow to rinse the suds away.
Cole moved in closer. Meagan was the last person he'd expected to see in his bathing spot. He devoured the perfect vision before him as he lowered his gaze from Meagan's delicate boned face to her long, slender neck, and lower still to the generous curve of her breasts. He felt his loins tighten as their rosy tips hardened int
o small pebbles when the icy water that flowed over them. Her tiny waist flared into rounded hips, which disappeared into lines and shadows beneath the water's surface.
Meagan turned towards him, and Cole couldn't control the small moan of desire that escaped through clenched teeth as she began to apply soap. Her hands caressed her body, leaving a rich, thick lather wherever they'd been. He drank in every curve and contour of her.
His dreams had been haunted with images of Meagan. Not horrifying images of her falling, but sweet, elusive images of her body pressed against his, of his lips tasting her, his hands exploring her. Meagan had become an integral part of his nights. He knew he should resist the dreams, just as he should resist his temptation to go to Meagan now. He should leave her to her privacy, but it felt so right, to finally enjoy thoughts of a woman without fear of what nightmares might follow. He moved in closer.
The crack of a stick caught Meagan's attention, and with a startled gasp she opened her eyes. Soap trickled into them. Crying out, she submerged herself and rubbed the palms of her hands across her face in an effort to rinse the sting away. She surfaced and worked up the courage to raise her lids. Her eyes burned, but the pain was tolerable. She held perfectly still, listening, while searching with somewhat blurred vision at her surroundings. Nothing seemed amiss.
She exited the stream and dried herself with sharp, quick motions of the blanket. She cursed her nervous reaction. A gust of wind sent goose bumps up her flesh and she quickly slipped on her chemise and drawers, then plopped onto a large rock and rolled a pair of blue striped stockings up her calves. She resisted the temptation to linger and with reluctance donned a long, striped twill whalebone bustle and a stiffly starched muslin petticoat embroidered with layer after layer of light blue frills and trimmed with lace.
A shiver of delight swept through Meagan as she ran her fingers across the fine silk fabric of the periwinkle princess dress she'd chosen from Bethany's wardrobe. It was a far cry from her usual attire. It had a square neckline, a long, flowing skirt and was accented with ivory lace. She slipped it over her head began the tedious process of fastening the row of tiny buttons that ran all the way from her hips to the neckline. She mumbled in exasperation as she struggled with the top buttons. The dress fit everywhere except here. She pushed and pulled until the last button slipped into place. Out of breath and somewhat exhausted she carelessly tugged a comb through her long masses of tangled hair and hurried up the trail. Without hesitation she entered the house and hurried to the kitchen where she spotted Stephen.
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