Babes In Arms
Sara Orwig
BABY CHASEPregnant Katherine Manchester was on the run and about to become a mom any minute! She had to find a safe place for her baby to be born, fast - and what better place than in rugged rancher Colin Whitefeather's welcoming arms? SURROGATE DADColin had a weakness for strays and beautiful women. And when he delivered Katherine's baby, baby girls were added to his list. Katherine affected him like no woman ever had, but she was afraid of something - or someone.Well, she was about to learn that Colin Whitefeather feared no one - and that nothing would keep him from making them a family.
Colin Marveled At The Tiny Baby He Had Helped Bring Into The World. (#u826b557e-52f4-5710-b744-037d6335982b)Letter to Reader (#u4bdbf8aa-010b-5981-abde-9656a498500c)Title Page (#u4970bf9d-74d1-56d9-9252-d6d07a9c4a64)About the Author (#u304e992c-13dd-5949-98c0-119ac9807a13)Acknowledgments (#ucea4f77e-ef17-5e1f-a304-d3d33c88edf7)Chapter One (#u51e9c1b6-dd37-5b52-8a23-aacc187bf422)Chapter Two (#u9be170c9-3cff-5c73-87cd-4d145010a40f)Chapter Three (#u94ef6e51-50c9-50f6-93f9-6c5a6f4065e2)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Colin Marveled At The Tiny Baby He Had Helped Bring Into The World.
Her fingers were doubled into small fists, her arms thrown up over her head while she slept propped on her side. He touched her soft cheek, wondering about her, imagining a little girl with long red hair and big green eyes, a tiny version of Katherine. He felt a tightening in his chest.
He turned and looked at Katherine. She was on her back, one arm flung out, her red hair spilling over her shoulders. His gaze traveled over the hospital gown, the sheet that was across her hips and legs. He drew a deep breath. All his tender feelings stirred by the sight of the baby were transformed to desire for the sleeping woman.
He moved to a chair, placing it closer to the bassinet, not trusting himself to sit too close to Katherine. He propped his booted feet on a table, settled back and closed his eyes....
Dear Reader,
This month: strong and sexy heroes!
First, the Tallchiefs—that intriguing, legendary family—are back, and this time it’s Birk Tallchief who meets his match in Cait London’s MAN OF THE MONTH, The Groom Candidate. Birk’s been pining for Lacey MacCandliss for years, but once he gets her, there’s nothing but trouble of the most romantic kind. Don’t miss this delightful story from one of Desire’s most beloved writers.
Next, nobody creates a strong, sexy hero quite like Sara Orwig, and in her latest, Babes in Arms, she brings us Colin Whitefeather, a tough and tender man you’ll never forget. And in Judith McWilliams’s Another Man’s Baby we meet Philip Lysander, a Greek tycoon who will do anything to save his family...even pretend to be a child’s father.
Peggy Moreland’s delightful miniseries, TROUBLE IN TEXAS, continues with Lone Star Kind of Man. The man in question is rugged rogue cowboy Cody Fipes. In Big Sky Drifter, by Doreen Owens Malek, a wild Wyoming man named Cal Winston tames a lonely woman. And in Cathie Linz’s Husband Needed, bachelor Jack Elliott surprises himself when he offers to trade his single days for married nights.
In Silhouette Desire you’ll always find the most irresistible men around! So enjoy!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
US.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Out. L2A 5X3
Babes in Arms
Sara Orwig
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SARA ORWIG
lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
With thanks to Lucia Macro, Lynda Curnyn,
Cathleen Treacy, Tina Colombo and Maureen Walters.
One
“You can pick up your check from Della. Thanks again on this last case,” Abe Swenson, the red-haired Payne County sheriff said. “You know if you ever want to go full-time with us—”
“Sorry,” Colin interrupted him. “As an honorary deputy I have more freedom, and I’m enjoying ranching.” He didn’t add that every time he took on police work, he swore it would be the last.
“You better head home soon. I’ve been getting weather bulletins. Highways are closing all across the northern and eastern part of the state. Our bus terminal closed twenty minutes ago.”
Colin nodded. “Old Blue does pretty well in snow.”
“Yeah, well, we may have an ice storm before tonight.”
“Thanks, Abe.” Colin stopped by the desk, flirting a moment with Della while she gave him his check. He pulled his shearling coat closed, jammed his black Stetson on his head and pushed open the glass door.
Snow swirled and fell silently, coating sidewalks, frosting the yellow dried Bermuda grass, turning to slush in the streets. Striding to the bed of a battered robin’s-egg-blue pickup, he adjusted the tarp over the sacks of groceries piled in the back and then climbed inside, moving into the Friday afternoon traffic. He headed down Sixth toward the university. Bumper-to-bumper student traffic slowed him to a creeping pace.
He turned onto the strip, moving past shops, beer parlors and restaurants, watching two guys throw snowballs at three pretty coeds, feeling a moment’s pang of loneliness, which was gone as swiftly as it came.
He crept to the next light and slowed as the yellow switched to red. To his right at the curb across the intersection, a woman stepped out of a car. She closed and locked the car and glanced up and down the street. Taller than average, yet looking thick through the middle in her bulky hip-length brown parka, she had a wrinkled gray cap pulled over her head, owlish glasses perched on her nose and baggy jeans. She carried a bulky leather bag held over her shoulder by a strap.
The woman dashed across the side street against traffic, crossing in spite of the light. A car slid on the snow and honked at her as she turned to cross the street in front of Colin. She glanced his way and he gazed into wide green eyes. Beneath the gray cap, her hair was pulled back into a bun. She reached the curb and disappeared into a bookstore.
“Stupid broad,” Colin muttered. He adjusted the rearview mirror. Behind him in the next block two men in black topcoats climbed out of a shiny car and hurried toward the bookstore.
Overdressed for the day, the men were not typical of the small university town, and Colin’s cop’s instinct kicked in as he remembered the wide-eyed look the woman had given him.
“You’re imagining things, Whitefeather,” he said aloud to himself while the light changed. He shifted and drove on, looking at the two men as they walked down the street. They didn’t glance to the right or left, and every instinct in him screamed muscle. “Stay out of it.”
He hunched over the wheel, listening to the clack of the wipers when he turned in front of the fire station and glimpsed the campus. Snow bathed it in pristine beauty, the red brick of Old Central looking warm and solid, its green cupola at the peak of the roof still showing beneath an icing of snow. Boughs of evergreens draped in white dipped earthward and students clad in bright parkas reminded Colin of colorful birds as they crossed the sprawling campus.
“Oh, hell,” Colin said, signaling at the next corner and circling the block. “You’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he grumbled to himself, yet he couldn’t get the woman’s face out of his mind, the big eyes that looked frightened. Because of one-way streets, he had to drive two blocks to circle back onto Station Avenue again. As he paused at the intersection and glanced up and down, he noticed another burly man in a parka headed toward the bookstore from a block away to the south.
“Someone should give you guys a lesson in how to blend into your surroundings,” Colin mumbled, shifting and swinging into traffic on Station.
It was a moment before he spotted her walking toward him on the right side of the street. Except for her height, she would have faded into the crowd. The two topcoats were striding toward her from the north end of the street, so she was boxed in.
A voice inside him, screaming to stay out of it, lost its battle as Colin swung the car closer to the curb and threw open the door on the passenger side. “Get in. I’m a cop and I’ll get you away from them.”
Her big eyes focused on him and for an instant he forgot the danger and felt lost in depths of green. The moment became timeless. He became conscious of everything around him, the noise of car engines, the swishing sounds of tires in slush, the swirling snow. She stared back, an unwavering, probing look that narrowed the world into an awareness of just her. Other sounds and sights faded from his mind as he stared at her with as much intensity as if she had reached out and touched him.
Then she shook her head, her eyes widening while she glanced around, reminding him of a trapped animal. The topcoats had increased their pace and were only half a block away. When Colin looked at her again, she was entering a restaurant. Colin slammed the door and drove past the two men as they rushed toward the restaurant.
Ignoring gut feelings to stay out of her problem, he turned at the corner and signaled, swinging into the alley. He guessed right. She emerged from the back of the restaurant and hurried toward him. He opened the door again.
“I’m telling the truth. I am a cop.”
She glanced over her shoulder as the two men stepped into the alley. With a swirl of her coat, she climbed into the pickup and slammed the door. Telling himself he was every kind of fool, Colin threw the pickup into reverse while a faint, sweet scent of roses filled the interior.
As soon as the pickup rolled out of the alley into the street Colin accelerated, taking the next corner without slowing. He fished his billfold out and flipped it open, turning to the badge that he carried.
“Here,” he said, tossing the open billfold into her lap. He turned another corner, sped several blocks down a street and went through an alley. Emerging from the alley, he whipped around the corner, speeding along more streets and alleys until he braked in the middle of an alley and turned into a small garage.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was low and filled with alarm, the drawl of the South softening the r’s in her speech.
“Losing them. I’m covering our tracks. Just a minute,” he said, taking the keys and climbing out to push the garage door closed. Two windows in the garage allowed dim light as Colin climbed back into the pickup. Silence enveloped them.
“Tracks into this garage will show,” she said, sounding terrified. She had unbuckled her seat belt and was against the door, her gloved fingers on the handle as if she were ready to run.
“After another five minutes our tracks will be obliterated. The flakes are big now and coming down fast.”
Katherine Manchester was frightened, yet wanted to trust him. If only he weren’t a policeman. And if only he weren’t so big. She eyed his broad shoulders, covered by the shearling coat. He filled the interior of the pickup. One look at his long legs, folded in the narrow space, and she knew he was a tall man. She met a direct brown-eyed gaze that studied her with enough intensity to make her nervous. “Do you live here?”
“No, this isn’t my home. A friend lives here and he’s on duty now, so he won’t be home. We’ll sit here for a few minutes. I’m Colin Whitefeather.”
She hesitated, debating whether to give him her real name or not. When she didn’t answer right away, she noticed his eyes narrowed. “I’m Katherine Manchester,” she said carefully, giving her real name and watching him to see if there was any recognition. To her relief, his expression didn’t change.
“Welcome to Stillwater, Katherine,” Colin said in a friendly tone, and Katherine felt as if something inside her was loosening. She fought against the feeling, knowing she didn’t dare relax. The man was a cop, for heaven’s sake, even if it was only honorary! His long, shaggy hair gave him a wild appearance, and his broad shoulders beneath the thick coat gave an aura of power and command that frightened her, yet at the same time, so far, he had been only kind and helpful. Almost too good to be true, and she waited warily.
“Just a minute.” Colin climbed out and untied the tarp, rummaging in sacks and finding a package of cookies, a sack of apples and a carton of milk. He climbed back into the truck and held the groceries out to her. “Here are some snacks.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking them. She pulled out a tissue to polish and clean the apples, handing one to him.
“They’ll watch your car,” Colin stated quietly.
Chewing a bite of apple, her gaze returned to him. “Is there an airport or bus station here?”
“The commercial flights are grounded and the bus station closed a little while ago because of the storm,” he answered, seeing a flicker of worry in her eyes. Was she just going to abandon the car? As he stared at her, looking at prominent cheekbones, a straight nose and full lips that made a man fantasize, he realized she was trying to hide her beauty. Her face was covered with thick makeup, her eyebrows penciled to look heavier. For the first time, he spotted the red roots to the mousy brown hair. She had tried to change her appearance and he realized that she had downplayed her looks, smudging makeup beneath her eyes, trying to change the shape of her brows and mouth. As he looked at her dowdy, nondescript clothing, he remembered her shiny black car.
He glanced again at the red roots, imagining glossy red hair. He suspected she was tall and willowy and a real looker—with heavy muscle after her. He wondered about Las Vegas and a mob. She was someone’s girlfriend or she had stolen something or knew something. For the kind of muscle involved and her obvious fear, money had to be part of her flight The purse was kept constantly at her fingertips and he guessed she was packing a pistol.
She opened the carton of milk, taking a long drink, and Colin wondered when she had last eaten.
The faint rumble of a car motor grew louder. Even beneath the heavy makeup, her face paled. She stopped chewing, inhaling swiftly, and he had the feeling that she was holding her breath. Her hand clutched the purse until her knuckles were white. She wore no rings on her slender fingers with short, neatly clipped nails. The sound of the motor increased. A car was slowly creeping along the alley.
Colin reached behind his back beneath his jacket to withdraw the 9 mm automatic pistol he carried tucked into his waistband. He watched the door of the garage.
“Maybe you should get down until they’re gone,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. He glanced in the rearview mirror while she slid down on the floor.
The low growl of a motor went past and faded. As Colin replaced his pistol, he jerked his head. “It’s gone,” he said, and she moved awkwardly back onto the seat.
“We’ll wait a while before we leave here.”
“You can let me out somewhere on campus.”
“They’ll be watching your car and probably the bus station, even though it’s closed. There’s no train.”
She ran a hand over her eyes and turned to stare at the snow-covered garage window. “Have you heard a weather report?”
“The storm is supposed to get worse. I have to head northeast from here. My ranch is several miles from town. I can take you to Pawnee and you can get a bus out of there to Tulsa, where you can get a plane.”
White teeth caught a full underlip and he inhaled as he stared at her rosy mouth, a sudden curiosity plaguing him over what it would be like to feel the softness of her full lips. Crazy notion, an inner voice cautioned. The lady was pure trouble, the kind he did not need. He had already volunteered to drive to Pawnee in a blinding blizzard, which meant he could get snowbound in Pawnee or be until nightfall getting home.
“Thank you, but if you’ll just let me out on campus, I’ll manage.”
Let her out and tell her goodbye. “You won’t get out of town. This is too small a place to get lost easily, and they’ll find you,” he persisted, wondering if he was losing his wits. He ought to be thankful she wanted to be rid of him. And she wasn’t reassured by his badge—that opened more questions, and again he thought of a Vegas showgirl who might know too much for her own good. Except this one didn’t look like a showgirl. Far from it. Or she could be carrying money in the purse. Or drugs. There was a thought, Whitefeather, he told himself with a silent, cynical sneer.
“I think I can manage,” she persisted, and he let it drop. Get rid of the woman because she could only be trouble. She’d made her choice.
They sat in silence for a few minutes and then she opened the chocolate cookies carefully and offered him one which he took. He ate a cookie, watching her bite daintily into one and chew, the tip of her pink tongue flicking out to catch a tiny crumb of chocolate on her lower lip and suddenly he wanted to lean forward and taste her mouth, chocolate and all. What was it about her that stirred the erotic thoughts? With her unattractive clothes and heavy makeup, he should barely give her a thought, yet the woman stirred him in the most basic male way. Disgruntled, he shifted in the seat to look at the garage door and glance again at his watch.
“You’re a policeman and a rancher?”
“A rancher and an honorary deputy. The sheriff hires me occasionally. I prefer ranching. It’s more peaceful.”
She looked as if she doubted what he was saying, and he wondered again what kind of trouble she was in.
He glanced at his watch and opened the door. “It’s probably been long enough. The bad thing—my pickup is noticeable, but there are two others in town as blue as this one.”
He opened the garage door, backed out and closed it again.
As soon as he slid behind the wheel, she turned to him. “The garage door was open when we came.”
“It was closed when that car drove down the alley. I’ll tell my friend I was here and closed it.” As Colin turned onto the street, he couldn’t spot any black car cruising nearby. “Want out any particular place on campus? The Union will have the most people going in and out.”
“Fine,” she said, clutching the purse tightly again.
He drove six blocks before he had to turn onto a street where traffic was heavy. While snow swirled and the wipers clacked like a slow metronome, they inched along. Colin wiped the steamed windows with the back of his gloved hand. He glanced into the rearview mirror and saw a black car come out of a parking lot and turn into traffic two blocks behind him. He drove two more blocks and turned left. In seconds he saw the black car moving into the line of cars behind him.
“This isn’t your day,” he said quietly. “I think we picked up a tail.”
Two
He turned at the next two corners, drove a block and looked back to see the black car turn on the same street, now three cars behind him. He glanced at her. “Still want out at the Union?”
She bit her lower lip again, and he wondered if she had any idea that something so casual could be so sexy. Maybe she was a high-priced call girl on the run, accustomed to stirring men. He rejected that thought immediately, when he remembered her reluctance to go with him and the fear in her expression when he had driven into the garage and cut the motor. She was far too afraid of him to be a hooker.
Without signaling he turned abruptly, circling the block. As he glanced in the mirror, he saw the black car move into traffic two cars behind him again. “I can lose them and take you to Pawnee or let you out near the Union, but they’re less than a block behind us.”
He heard her draw a deep breath. When he glanced at her she was looking out the window, her head turned. A stray wisp of brown hair had escaped her cap and curled on her shoulder.
“Or I can take you to the police. They’ll protect you,” he offered.
“No!” The emphatic answer was instant, and he glanced at her. She bit her lip and looked away quickly, but not fast enough that he hadn’t seen fear in her eyes again. His curiosity mushroomed. Why did she want to avoid the police?
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go to Pawnee,” she said, as if he had asked her if she would like a trip to prison.
You got yourself into this. Looking at the tumbling snow, he gripped the steering wheel. Now he had to drive to Pawnee in a blizzard. What had she done to cause such a hunt? And why did she cause him to fall all over himself trying to help her?
For a second he was tempted to go to the station and turn her over to the force and let the law answer the questions. The law would protect her from the topcoats and the police would find out why she was running. Colin glanced at her profile and decided he would take her to Pawnee.
Pressing the accelerator, Colin raced into an alley, sliding and skidding as he turned out of it and doubled back, winding through alleys and down less traveled streets to the campus. At the animal-science building he jumped the curb to drive between two buildings, the college kids laughing as he bounced down into the street and sped away before the campus police were called.
He wound through town for twenty minutes and then he took a section line into the country. With satisfaction he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the road behind him was a swirling white emptiness. He slowed and relaxed, taking the highway.
The first peppering of sleet was as faint as pebbles spilling on a sidewalk, but in seconds the hissing and staccato clicks drowned out the noise of the pickup’s ancient engine.
“Katherine, we can’t get to Pawnee. In this I’ll be lucky to get home. I can get good traction in the snow, but nothing has traction on ice.” He glanced at her and was startled by the distrust in her eyes.
“I’m safe for you to be with. If I weren’t, I could have done something back there in the garage,” he stated quietly. Even though she nodded, he could feel her reluctance and her fear.
“I take groceries to my folks. They have a place next door to mine. It won’t take long, but I have to stop there,” he said, wondering if meeting his parents would reassure her.
“Fine,” she replied, and her voice was impassive.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “Tennessee?”
“I was born in Virginia, but I’ve moved a lot since then. Is Oklahoma your home?”
“Yes,” he replied, noticing she had avoided giving him an answer. “My parents are Comanche and my family has been here since my ancestors were sent to Indian Territory. I lived in Missouri for a long time after college, but my folks have always lived in Oklahoma.”
“Are you married?” she asked him and he shook his head.
“My wife died. Are you married?”
“No,” she answered, locking her gloved fingers together in her lap.
They lapsed into silence and the only sounds were the rumble of the motor, the clack of windshield wipers and the drumming of sleet, which had become fine bits of ice again.
The world was a white blur, cedar limbs sagging under the weight of snow topped with ice. Lines and trees sparkled as ice coated thin branches and wires. A rabbit dashed from the bar ditch, racing across the road.
Katherine felt chilled to the bone, even though the heater was keeping the interior of the pickup toasty warm. She glanced surreptitiously at the dark-haired man driving the pickup. He had gotten them out of Stillwater, but was she headed for something worse? A cop was about the last person she wanted to encounter, much less trust with her life. And this man looked strong and tough. She glanced at his hands on the steering wheel, looking at the straight, blunt fingers, well-shaped but large hands. She could imagine the hurt they might inflict.
The pickup bounced across a cattle guard, rumbling over the rise and slowing as Colin headed for a house nestled beneath tall bare-limbed cottonwoods and bushy snow-covered cedars. A streamer of white smoke wafted from a large chimney. “This won’t take long. Come inside and meet my folks.”
“I’ll wait here.” How dangerous could he be when he had his parents within miles? She knew too well that parents weren’t a guarantee against violence in grown sons.
Ignoring her protest, Colin Whitefeather squared his black Stetson on his head, and went around to open her door. Long limbed, at least four inches over six feet tall, his dark skin and dark hair gave him a touch of wildness, as if he spent his time outdoors dealing with the elements. His shoulders were broad, his hands big, and he frightened her, but he was the only hope she had at the moment.
When he closed the car door behind her, he stepped to the back. As he yanked free the ties of the tarp and swept snow to the ground with his arm, a tall, striking woman opened the back door. Waving at them, she had the same prominent cheekbones and dark eyes as her son. Colin picked up two sacks of groceries and handed them to Katherine, taking three more in his arms and hurrying to the house.
Determined to get ahead of Katherine, Colin crossed the yard in long strides.
“Did you have difficulty getting here?” his mother asked, her dark brown gaze going beyond him to Katherine.
He leaned forward to brush his mother’s cheek with a kiss. “Don’t ask questions, Mom. I don’t know her and she’s in trouble.” He stepped onto the back porch and stomped snow off his black western boots and turned as Katherine entered.
“Mom, this is Katherine Manchester. Katherine, this is my mother, Nadine Whitefeather.”
“Co in. I have hot chocolate ready.”
“M it’s icing up out there. We would get home while we can.”
“You can drink hot chocolate,” she said firmly, leading the way into the roomy kitchen with glass-fronted cabinets.
“I thought I heard voices,” Will Whitefeather said, entering the room.
Katherine faced a man only a few inches shorter than Colin and even more broad in the shoulders. Will Whitefeather looked sturdy and strong enough to lift the front of the blue pickup off the ground. His dark skin was lined and creased from the weather, yet as he smiled at her there was something reassuring about him that made her want to drop her guard. And then she remembered how gullible she had been in the past, how pulled into danger she was now.
“Dad, this is Katherine Manchester. Katherine, meet my father, Will Whitefeather.”
“We’re glad to have you, even though it’s a terrible day to be out,” Will said openly and to her relief, her name seemed to mean nothing to any of the Whitefeather family.
“Sit down, Katherine, while I put away groceries,” Colin said. “Mom will be back in a minute and pour the hot chocolate and then, Dad, I’ll help you break the ice and feed the livestock.”
“If you need to get home, Colin, you go on. It’s getting slick and I just heard a weather report. We’re supposed to get more ice and six inches of snow.”
“I’ll take your coat.” Colin Whitefeather stepped behind her, waiting while Katherine unfastened the wrinkled parka. He slipped it off her shoulders and hung it on a peg, turning to motion toward the kitchen chairs. “Have a seat,” he said, his gaze going over her fuzzy purple sweater, which hung to her knees. Shock immobilized him momentarily, now that the bulky coat no longer hid her figure. Katherine Manchester looked six months pregnant.
Aware of his gaze going swiftly over her figure, she felt a flush of embarrassment. Self-consciously she removed her hat; she could imagine how terrible her hair looked. She had put it up in the early hours of the morning and worn the cap all day and she could feel locks that had tumbled loose from the braids. When she handed him her hat, her fingers brushed his in a casual touch that should have been unnoticed, yet the contact stirred a tingling current.
As Katherine turned around, Colin’s dark gaze was on her, studying her features, and her self-consciousness increased. She never intended anyone to scrutinize her so closely. She stared into his dark eyes, conscious of him as a male, too aware of an electric tension snapping between them. Her pulse jumped and then surprise shook her, because she couldn’t recall reacting to a man in such a manner since she was twenty years old.
He turned away to shed his coat and her pulse took another lurch, because beneath the bulky coat he was broad shouldered and slim hipped, a red wool shirt tucked into faded jeans that molded long legs.
He shook his shaggy black hair away from his face and crossed the kitchen to help his father, the two bearing a close resemblance in their rugged facial planes, the arrogant hawklike noses and strong jaws.
Trying to ignore Colin Whitefeather, Katherine glanced around the room, which was filled with a clutter of appliances and tempting smells coming from the oven. The aroma of hot chocolate wafted on the air, wrapping around her like a cloak, making her remember moments of her childhood when life had been predictable. Cheerful yellow-and-white curtains were tied back at the frosted windows and thriving green plants hung from hooks. Katherine felt momentarily safe and wished she could politely thank Colin Whitefeather and stay here with his parents until the snow thawed.
“One cup, Mom, and then I’ll help Dad and we’ll be on our way,” Colin said good-naturedly while his mother poured steaming cups of hot chocolate. He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his long legs, and Katherine thought how strong and reliable he looked. Yet she knew far too well how deceiving looks could be.
“You don’t have far to go and you’ll manage it.” Nadine smiled at Katherine.
Colin sipped his hot chocolate as Katherine raised her mug to her lips. The thick pottery mug warmed her fingers and the steaming chocolate tasted delicious, the first hot food in too long.
“Dad, we need to get going as soon as we can. I want to get the chores done,” Colin said, standing and carrying his mug of chocolate to the counter.
“Let’s go,” Will answered, pulling on a heavy coat and jamming a battered wide-brimmed hat on his head.
As the men left, Nadine moved around the kitchen cleaning cups and pouring more hot chocolate. After ten minutes of listening to Nadine talk about recipes and Colin when he was a child, Katherine realized that Nadine had not asked her a single question about her life, and she wondered if Colin had said something or if Nadine simply had her thoughts on her own family.
Dreading leaving with Colin again, Katherine still felt tense, watching the clock until finally she heard the slap of the door to the porch and the men’s voices and footstomping. Colin thrust his head inside. “Katherine, if you’ll get your coat, I won’t even come inside, because it’s sleeting again.”
She moved across the kitchen to put on her coat. Wiping her hands on a towel, Nadine Whitefeather followed her. “I’m glad you stopped by with Colin. Sometimes I worry about him being alone.”
“He won’t be alone tonight,” Katherine said, looking at the sleet that was laying a sheet of ice over the snow.
“Here, take this,” Nadine urged, thrusting a warm sealed plastic container into Katherine’s hands. “It’s chili. Colin can cook, but he has a limited menu.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Whitefeather,” Katherine said, turning to look at his mother. “It was nice to have met you.”
“It was nice to meet you, Katherine. I hope things work out for you.”
“Thank you,” Katherine repeated, startled and realizing Colin must have said something about her to his mother when they first arrived. She opened the back door and crossed the porch, seeing Colin waiting.
As they stepped off the porch, she slid on the ice. Instantly Colin Whitefeather’s arm went around her waist to steady her. His arm was a strong band, nothing more than a friendly, helpful gesture, yet a chilly withdrawal gripped her.
“Thanks,” she said, trying not to stiffen and make him aware of her reaction. “I’ll be all right,” she said, pulling away. He took her arm firmly and she had to fight the urge to shake free of his grip.
In minutes they were back in the truck, the chili on the seat between them. “Your folks are very nice,” she said quietly. nervousness increasing at the thought of being shut away in a blizzard with a total stranger who was a strong male and a cop.
“I moved back to Oklahoma so I can help Dad, although he doesn’t need me often. The men who work for me help out over here, too.”
Riding in silence, they crept to the section line and then turned east and Katherine couldn’t see any road. They were going little over ten miles an hour and the sleet was still coming down.
“Lines will be down in this one,” Colin said, wiping the windshield with the back of his hand. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, the truck bounced over a cattle guard. He slowed to a halt and climbed out.
“Be right back. Want to close the gate,” he shouted and slammed the door while a flurry of white flakes tumbled over the car seat and melted.
Turning around, she wiped the window and saw he was swinging closed a large gate and padlocking it. Without a word he climbed back into the truck and put it into gear, driving slowly. They crept through an endlessly white world with a blinding lack of color and snow-covered objects that mesmerized and confused.
She shivered, wondering about his past, worrying about the present. She would be alone with him, miles from anyone, caught in a storm. She shivered and rubbed her arms, telling herself to stop being such an idiot.
Finally through the tumbling snow the darker bulk of a building loomed up. As they drove closer, she saw the house and attached garage. Pressing the garage-door opener, he waited while the door slid open. Fear wrapped around her more tightly than the coat she pulled close.
They entered a three-car garage that had an empty space, a Jeep and a space for the pickup. The noise of sleet hitting the truck dimmed to a staccato sound peppering the garage roof.
When the engine died, Colin climbed out. With a mounting reluctance, Katherine slowly opened the pickup door. They were in a large garage that adjoined a house. A black shadow dashed from a corner, followed by a great, shaggy gray dog. She gasped, her heart thudding and then calming as Colin Whitefeather turned to pet the animals. “This is Buster. The wolf is Lobo.”
She was still in the pickup and she eyed the dogs. “He’s really a wolf?” she asked, trying to take time to deal with her fear. The animal had to be a wolf. She gazed into yellow predator eyes. He had long legs and thick gray fur and his ears cocked forward as he studied her. “You’re certain it’s safe for me to get out? They look ferocious.”
“They’re lambs. And they know if I brought you in my car, you’re my guest.” He gave a short whistle and both dogs trotted to him. He petted them a few seconds. “Sit.”
Both animals sat down. “They won’t bite. I promise.”
She climbed out of the pickup. “They don’t have to sit. I’m just on edge.” She patted her knee as an invitation to them.
“Good dogs,” he said and they ran to her to mill around her. Katherine petted them, scratching their ears. “They’re beautiful animals.”
“Buster is a Border collie and Lobo is just what his name implies. I found him when he was a pup and I was up north. He was hurt and I brought him home with me.”
“So you take in strays often, Colin Whitefeather,” she remarked, giving him a faint smile.
He shook his head. “You two are it,” he said, gathering sacks into his arms.
Doubting his last remark, she picked up the chili and a sack of groceries and followed Colin inside a kitchen that was much newer than his parents’ kitchen. Buster ran past them and stood near an empty dog dish. Lobo came inside to sit and watch Colin. The cozy kitchen held a huge fireplace built with large slabs of sandstone. Knotty-pine cabinets lined the walls. The kitchen formed an L-shaped room with the living area, which had bookcases, a pair of navy wing chairs, a maroon-and-navy sofa and another huge stone fireplace. The living area was paneled in pine, with louvered shutters at the windows. Beneath beamed ceilings, the room held the same cozy, rustic, masculine look as the kitchen.
“Make yourself at home,” Colin said, setting groceries on a long oak table. “There’s only one bedroom,” he added with a shrug, “but that sofa makes into a bed.”
Colin hung his coat on a peg by the door, motioning to her to do the same. “As soon as I light a fire in here and put away the groceries, I’ll give you a tour so you’ll know where everything is,” he said.
When she removed her coat, Katherine felt stiff and cold and wary. She watched while Colin Whitefeather put away his groceries, seeming to ignore her as if he had forgotten her presence, and she found his lack of attention to her reassuring, yet she was afraid to let down her guard.
He picked up a phone and after a few moments she gathered he must be talking to his ranch foreman. She hadn’t given much thought to other men on the place.
“Bud,” Colin said, “tell the others that I locked the gate and I’ll turn on the alarm tonight. I brought a guest home with me, and some guys are after her. They look dangerous,” he said, finally turning to give her a level look.
It sounded worse to hear him talk about the men after her.
“If any of you see strangers, be careful and get word to me at once. They’re armed, so the men better be prepared. Any shooting starts, call 911 as quickly as you can.”
She rubbed her arms, wondering how many men she had placed in danger by coming home with him.
“Sure, I will. No one can get through in this. I let the dogs out. Good. Thanks. See you in the morning.” He replaced the receiver.
“I’ve brought danger to you and to others,” she said quietly.
“I want them to be aware of the danger, but they can take good care of themselves and those goons aren’t after any cowboys. Don’t worry about it.”
As if he had dismissed the whole thing from his mind, he squatted in front of the fireplace to stack logs for a fire. She watched him work and knew she should relax. The man was ignoring her most of the time, but she couldn’t let down her guard.
“C’mon.” he said when a fire blazed. “Tour time.” He left the kitchen and she followed, keeping her purse at her side, feeling wary of him even though he sounded pleasant.
He led her down a wide hall and he motioned at an open door. “Here’s the one bathroom,” he said. “Towels are in the cabinet.”
She glanced inside, aware she had to move within inches of him. She peeked into a room done in maroon-and-navy decor with an old-fashioned footed tub and an open door to her left that probably led to his bedroom.
She was aware of standing too close to Colin Whitefeather. He was a tall man, tall enough to make her look up when she gazed into his eyes, something that she rarely. had to do with any man. Even Sloan was only inches taller than she.
Colin’s size added to her nervousness because she felt vulnerable. He was broad shouldered, long armed and powerful. She glanced at the bathroom and moved away quickly.
Colin led the way through the open door at the end of the hall. “Here’s my room, and I wasn’t expecting company.”
When she stepped inside, her attention was caught by the panoramic view through large windows and glass doors that opened onto a deck. Snow fell in big, tumbling flakes and the countryside looked like a Christmas-card scene. She glanced around the room at the king-sized bed with rumpled covers, jeans tossed on a chair, a shirt draped on a television set. Fishing poles were in a corner and boots kicked off on the floor in the middle of the room.
The bedroom had the same pine paneling and the same navy-and-maroon decor as the rest of the house. A potted plant in the corner had one of his ties draped over it.
“I’m not compulsively neat,” he said, flashing a grin. Katherine’s heart missed a beat because the smile gave him a come-hither appeal. Creases lined his tanned cheeks and his teeth were white against his dark skin, the grin softening the harshness of his features. And she was surprised at herself and her reaction to his smile. Until this moment, she would have bet all the money in her purse that she would not find any male appealing for a long time.
“I’m glad to be in out of the storm. I don’t mind the clutter,” she replied, turning away from him.
“This is it, my small castle. Let’s get Mom’s chili on the stove. Do you eat chili?” Colin asked, aware she was still clutching her purse tightly, pressing it against her side beneath her arm. He remembered a skittish colt that he had purchased. The animal was terrified of anyone coming within yards of him and Colin suspected the former owner had beaten the animal badly. It had taken a long time to calm the colt and to finally turn him into a riding horse.
“Yes. It smelled wonderful at your mother’s.”
In minutes they had both washed up and Katherine moved around the kitchen, tearing greens into a bowl for salad while Colin reheated Nadine’s chili. Katherine worked silently, and Colin noticed she was never too far from her purse. Once when her back was turned, he picked it up, feeling the heft of it and deciding she was packing a pistol.
Colin’s gaze shifted back to Katherine, and he wondered about the hair pulled up and pinned close to her head, wisps escaping the pins to wave slightly over her ears and her slender neck. Diamond stud earrings were in her ears, but she wore no other jewelry. Since they arrived at his house she seemed tense, and he suspected if he made a sudden noise, she would jump a foot into the air.
They sat down to eat over steaming bowls of chili, hot corn tortillas and bowls of green salad. They ate in silence for a few minutes.
He wondered again if she was a showgirl, yet she was a long way from Vegas or Reno. Someone with money was involved, for three men to be after her.
Colin glanced at the darkened windows, feeling safe with the storm raging outside. Where were the men now who were after her today? In a Stillwater motel? In this storm they couldn’t scour the countryside, so they had to be holed up somewhere.
Colin stretched out his arm and picked up the television remote control. “We might as well have the television on in the background.”
“Do you mind if we don’t?” she asked hastily, her eyes wide and fear plain in their green depths. His gaze locked with hers while the air seemed to crackle with tension between them. A log fell in the fire, yet all of Colin’s attention focused on the woman facing him. Her lashes fluttered and she turned away abruptly.
Studying her, he placed the remote control on the table with deliberation. “You don’t want to go to the cops. You don’t want the television on. Maybe it’s time you tell me a little about the trouble you’re in.”
Three
Katherine’s heart lurched. She had expected him to quiz her more when she first climbed into the pickup with him. But gradually, as the hours passed, she had stopped worrying. Sitting attentive and still, he was waiting for her answer. Awareness that he was a lawman made her blood run cold. As far as she knew, Sloan had not gone to the police to get her back, but that could change at any time.
Stalling for a moment while she decided how to answer, she sipped ice water and wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers, staring down at her plate. “I’m divorced now, but I had an abusive husband.”
“If you’re divorced, why do you still fear him?”
Lies swirled in her mind, stories that might satisfy Colin, but one look into his alert brown eyes and she decided to tell him the truth. “I’m pregnant and my ex-husband wants me back.”
“He wants his baby?”
“It’s my baby,” Katherine replied fiercely, and then realized how she had snapped her answer at him. “I’ll be gone tomorrow, so why don’t we just leave it at that,” she suggested, holding her breath and praying he would stop questioning her.
“Look, you had three pros chasing you,” Colin replied with an obvious note of impatience in his tone. “That’s big muscle with money and power behind it. I’ve given you shelter and run a risk. I’d like to know just how big a risk I’m taking here. I’m not going to run and call your ex-husband, but I want to know what I’m up against as long as I have you under my roof.”
“It shouldn’t matter. I’ll be gone as soon as the snow stops, and they can’t get to us until it stops.”
“Katherine, I can imagine all sorts of scenarios. If you know about someone’s million-dollar fraud, if you know where a body is hidden—lots of reasons that even after you are gone, those guys might come after me. They might want to know what you told me.”
“Oh, no! Oh, it’s not anything like that. I have an abusive husband who wants me back badly.” She could see the doubt cloud his eyes, and once again she debated what to say. Watching orange flames curl around logs, she bit her lower lip. “My name didn’t mean anything to you, did it?”
“Katherine Manchester.” He shook his head. “No. Should it?”
“My ex-husband is Sloan Manchester,” she answered cautiously.
The name struck a chord, and Colin tried to remember where he had heard it. “That sounds familiar,” he said and memory stirred. Manchester Oil. “Louisiana. He’s a political candidate. Oil and big business.”
“That’s right,” Katherine said with resignation. “His father is Tyson Manchester of Manchester Oil. There are politicians who want Sloan to run for governor of Louisiana.”
“I wouldn’t think a man running for governor could risk having his ex-wife stalked, much less gamble on taking you back against your will. There’s a law against that.”
“He expects them to get me and take me back without anyone knowing.”
“Go to the press. Let me take you to the police.”
“No!” She pushed back the chair, her eyes going wide and color draining from her face as she stood.
Katherine seemed ready to bolt in spite of the storm. Colin stood and reached out to take her shoulders. She flinched and jumped away from him, her hands going up to shield herself.
“Hey, hey!” he said in a gentle voice, holding up his hands. “Calm down, Katherine. I swear I won’t hurt you.”
She backed away from him, biting her lower lip, and he wondered what kind of monster Sloan Manchester must be.
“Sit down and we’ll talk. Just relax. I won’t call the police if you don’t want me to,” he said, keeping his voice low, trying to bank his anger.
Her ex-husband was running for governor while Katherine was sitting in Colin’s kitchen, six months pregnant with the man’s baby. He was sheltering a woman on the run from one of the most powerful men in the country. Colin wondered what he had gotten himself into. He should have left her alone, he told himself. Just left her the hell alone.
“As soon as the storm abates, I’ll be out of your life,” she said quickly.
“Let’s sit down. Want to sit in front of the fire? I can do the dishes later.”
She nodded, but he noticed she didn’t make a move toward the chairs near the fire. She stood waiting, as if frightened to step in front of him. He moved around the table and went to put another log on the fire. As the wood crackled and popped, he closed the screen and turned to face her.
Looking like a lost child, the bulky purple sweater covering her, Katherine sat in a wing chair with her legs curled up beneath her.
“Are you really divorced?”
“Yes. At the time I asked for the divorce, Sloan had another woman in his life.” She looked down at her hands in her lap while Colin listened. He noticed her nails were neatly clipped and she had long, slender fingers. “Sloan wasn’t in the public light then. I asked for the divorce at the right time and he said yes. I got the divorce as quickly as possible. He regretted it almost instantly. It seems he wants what he can’t have,” she added bitterly.
“I gave up any money from him, but I had a little money left from savings and I took that with me. At the time of the divorce Sloan’s parents were in Europe, or his father would have stopped him from getting the divorce. His father had political ambitions for Sloan long ago.”
His back warmed by the fire, Colin moved to a wing chair, turning it to face her. If she was telling him the truth, she shouldn’t be so frightened and she should go to the police and get help.
“Katherine,” he said gently, fighting the urge to touch her lightly, jamming his hands into his pockets instead while fire heated his side. “If Sloan has given you a divorce, he can’t force you to come back.”
A look of pain crossed her features and was gone.
“He’s a powerful man and his father is as well. They would bribe and pressure people to get what they want. He has friends in high places, friends at court. He’s bribed people before to get what he wants in business.”
“Then he sure as hell shouldn’t be elected governor.”
Her expression was pained. “I can’t fight him. He would turn everything against me.”
“It won’t look good to have it come out that he’s abusive or that he’s trying to force you to return. If those thugs following you take you by force, that’s kidnapping.”
She faced him with a steady gaze. “My father was sent to prison for embezzlement I have bad blood in my family, as Sloan has so often reminded me. We’re Old South with relatives who were in the Confederacy, so I was acceptable to his parents and in certain social circles in New Orleans, but Sloan has said he can make me look like the most evil bitch from a corrupt family. Now I have the baby to consider.”
As Colin swore softly, Katherine bit her lip and looked down, rubbing her arms again. He reached out to tilt her chin up, but the moment he stretched his hand out and lightly touched her, she flinched and jerked away. He put his hands into his pockets again.
“Katherine, I will never hit you,” he said quietly, silently cursing Sloan Manchester. “I have never in my life hit a woman. Not even in the line of duty.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him and the fear dissipated in her expression. She bit her lip. “It’s an automatic reaction.”
He wanted to reach for her, to draw her into his arms and just hold her and reassure her that she was safe. The cynical side of him gave a silent laugh. Sure, Whitefeather, safe as a mouse in a building with a cat. Those three guys had not given up their hunt. The snow might slow them, but eventually they would find out who drove a blue pickup and where he lived. And they might do it in spite of the storm.
What was it about this woman that had brought out the protective instincts in him from the first moment he had seen her? She was almost as tall as he was, taller than nearly all the women he had ever known. She was independent, resourceful and capable of caring for herself. Capable of eluding the three hoods after her, so why did he have all these protective feelings on full throttle? And if she didn’t stir his protective instincts, she stirred his desire, which should have been even more unlikely in her garish makeup and baggy clothing. The fuzzy sweater looked like a molting bear. And she had to be six months pregnant!
Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “I think some lawmen I know would listen to your story.”
She shook her head. “Sloan’s got powerful friends. You’d be surprised what he can do. I used to think I could find protection from his brutality, but everyone covered for him.”
“He might not be so powerful here.”
“The first thing you know, I’d be whisked right back to Louisiana and placed in an institution and the public would be told I’m ill or mentally unbalanced. Sloan would manage it. I don’t want to go to the police.”
“All right, no police, but I think you’re making a mistake.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “I know what’s happened in the past when I’ve tried to get help.”
“How do you think you’ll get away from him?”
“I’m going to California where I have a friend who will help me. Sloan won’t find me there. It’s a matter of time. Once Sloan is defeated or elected, he’ll forget about me. If he’s defeated, it won’t help to get me back. If he’s elected without me, he won’t care what I do. Right now he wants me at his side. He thinks it will give the proper image for him. And he’s annoyed he can no longer control me.”
“Are you really divorced from him?”
“I’m telling you the truth. Yes, I am.”
“If you’re divorced, it’s a matter of public record and the reporters should have already picked up on his marital status.”
“He has contacts at newspapers and he can give them a story about my mental condition. It’s still early enough that he’s not in the limelight yet.”
Colin Whitefeather’s expression was a thundercloud that made her feel like running.
“I didn’t mean to bring trouble down on you and I’ll be gone tomorrow,” she said swiftly, trying to appease his anger. “Then those men won’t bother you.” Her pulse skittered as she watched him. He looked fierce and angry, and she had no doubts about his strength.
“They’ll find out who drives a blue pickup in this area.” The moment Colin said the words, she flinched as if he had struck her. “They can’t find us tonight. I can guarantee you that.” His gaze flicked over her figure again. “When’s the baby due? About March or April?”
“No. Actually, the due date is next week.”
“Next week! You don’t look that far along,” he said bluntly.
“That’s probably because of my height.”
He barely heard her answer. Anger rose in him, that she was being so careless about the coming event. “You shouldn’t be on the run. You need to be with relatives or a friend. You need to have a hospital lined up and not be racing across country with three goons chasing you.” As a cop, he had seen too much death and destruction. He had reached a point where he treasured birth and life, feeling a quiet joy with every foal or calf dropped on his place. He wanted to shake some sense into the woman, but the last thing this woman needed was to be shaken. She needed a loving husband’s strong arms and support. “Where’s your mother?”
“She died a year ago. I don’t have any family. But I’ll be all right. When the time comes, I’ll go to a hospital,” she answered stubbornly.
“Have you even seen a doctor?”
“Yes, I have regularly. I go to clinics in cities where I’ve traveled.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, your baby’s due—you’re not carrying any clothing except whatever you have stuffed in your big purse. What will you do for diapers and formula? You know if those men are following you, they’ll take you and the baby back to Louisiana.”
She raised her chin and defiance filled her eyes. “They can’t steal a baby out of a hospital. I’ll manage. I had hoped to get to California before the delivery. This snowstorm has complicated my life. And I thought I had lost the men until this morning. I had planned to get a plane today in Tulsa, to Denver, and from Denver to San Francisco. I thought I would be in California tonight.”
“That’s cutting it damned close. You have a friend there?”
“Yes, Paula Kurczak, and she knows about the baby. Paula has a little girl and she still has her baby things.”
“Don’t you know that babies don’t always arrive on the exact scheduled date?” He was fighting to bank his exasperation with her. He should stop grilling her, but he was shocked at her lack of preparation for the baby.
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, a dimple appearing in her cheek, her white teeth flashing, and he felt as if all the warmth of the room had drawn itself into her smile. In spite of her ill-fitting clothes and garish makeup, she looked adorable, and he could understand why the ex-husband wanted her back.
“I’ll be all right. And my baby will be all right.”
“Have you had an ultrasound? Do you know whether you’re having a boy or a girl?”
“Yes and no. I did have an ultrasound and everything was fine, but I told them I wanted to be surprised, so I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
He stared at her in consternation. One week until her due date. “When this storm stops, if you won’t go to the police, I’ll drive you to Tulsa and put you on the plane to California.”
“That would be nice of you,” she said in a subdued voice.
“Do you want to call your friend in California?”
“Paula knows I’ll be there some time this week. I told her I would call from the airport when I land.”
He wondered whether there really was a friend in California, yet there was no big reason to lie to him. He barely knew the woman. He shouldn’t care. One week until her delivery date. That revelation gave him more jitters than the thugs had. Babies had their own schedules.
“Want a refill of hot chocolate? There’s more on the stove,” he said, trying to defuse the moment and calm his own nerves.
“Yes, that tasted good.”
She followed him into the kitchen, clearing the table while he heated the milk, pouring it into the cups and then returning to the fire. With a graceful crossing of her long legs, Katherine sank to the floor with him and placed her cup on the coffee table.
“What about your car?” he asked. “It’s still parked in Stillwater.”
“That was a rental car. I paid cash and I only owe them for today. I can mail them the money. I have fake identification, so they can’t trace it easily. I called the car agency from a pay phone in a restaurant and told them where to find the car.”
He nodded. “Where did you meet Sloan?”
“I was a senior in high school. He was a star player on the Louisiana State basketball team and I was dazzled by him when we started dating. We were married a year later, when I was a freshman in college. I’m twenty-three now.”
Another surprise, Colin thought, deciding it was the makeup and the severe hairstyle and owlish glasses that made her look older. He started to reach up to remove her glasses, remembered her fear and paused, his hand in the air.
“May I?” he asked and she nodded, looking wary and uncertain. He noticed her quick intake of breath as his fingers brushed her temple and he removed the glasses. He put them on and looked through plain glass.
“I was trying to disguise myself. It’s difficult to hide, when you’re a five-foot-nine woman.”
Colin placed the glasses on the table. “If you married when you were a freshman, you stayed with him a while.”
Her face flushed and she rubbed her fingers along the edge of the table. “It’s hard to break away, and at first I thought things might change.”
“That wasn’t any of my business. Sorry.”
“I don’t mind your asking anything. Sloan was so spectacular, a star athlete, successful, popular, handsome, wealthy, powerful. Too often he made me feel as if I were the one who was at fault or inadequate,” she said quietly.
“Do you have any proof of his abuse, if he takes you back to court?”
She shook her head. “No. He bribed and paid off people, and if he didn’t his father did.”
“There ought to be someone he couldn’t get to,” Colin said, feeling a growing anger for a man he had never met. “I can check into it if you’d like.”
“No!” Her eyes were filled with unmistakable fright. “Please, don’t do that. Sloan can be relentless. I don’t want anyone hurt because of me and it would just enrage him even more if he learned someone was checking on him.”
“I am not afraid of Sloan Manchester,” Colin said quietly, not making an effort to hide his anger.
“Please promise me you won’t start asking questions in Louisiana.”
He knew he was worrying her, so he nodded. “I promise. I not only won’t hit you, Katherine, I will never knowingly hurt you.”
Her eyes widened with surprise, a feeling that mirrored his own at himself. The words were out without thought and his statement suggested more than he intended. His promise implied a relationship, something he had no intention of developing with her.
“You know what I mean,” he said offhandedly, trying to make light of his promise.
She gave him a half smile, her lips curving, a warmth returning to her features, which made his breath catch. His gaze went over her and he forgot about her past and Sloan Manchester. He felt drawn to her, wanting to know her better, wishing he could keep her safe and wondering again at his reaction. What did she really look like without the makeup and with her hair down? His curiosity was rampant as he studied her.
“Can I take down your hair?” he asked, feeling absurd, yet not wanting to frighten her. He suspected the last time he had asked a female a question like that he had been ten years old.
Her eyes seemed to widen as she stared at him and nodded. He reached out carefully with one hand to extract pins, going slowly and trying to avoid even the slightest pull of her hair, as he thought a man could get lost forever in the cool green of her eyes.
As Colin Whitefeather stretched out his hand, Katherine’s heart beat with fright and she willed herself to sit still, thinking the first moment he made a move other than to take down her hair, she would put more distance between them. And suppose he wanted her? This afternoon she had placed herself at his mercy and tonight she might have to pay the consequences, because she couldn’t run in this storm.
Katherine felt his fingers brush her head, tug so gently on her hair, stirring strange tingles that she was unaccustomed to feeling. Long ago Sloan had killed all physical yearnings toward him. Sex was a dreaded event and she loathed Sloan’s touch. Once she started dating Sloan, there had never been another man in her life and she was unaccustomed to anyone wanting to touch her hair.
Her heart thudded with fear and her mouth felt dry while she watched Colin, staring into unfathomable dark eyes that gave no hint as to what he was thinking. His gaze shifted to her hair again as he pulled away another pin and placed it carefully on the table. He was slow and deliberate, barely touching her, not moving an inch closer, and gradually her racing heart slowed to a normal beat.
She began to calm, studying him, realizing his eyes were thickly lashed, his features almost too rugged to be called handsome. His skin was dark, a faint scar visible along his jaw now that she sat close to him and really looked at him.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.
“I wanted to see what you look like with your hair down.” His voice was quiet and deep and reassuring. She couldn’t recall a moment like this in her entire marriage to Sloan.
She wished she could make some light comment about her skittishness, yet she couldn’t. All afternoon and evening there had been moments when the slightest move on Colin Whitefeather’s part would set her heart pounding with apprehension, and it was difficult now to relax. There was no way to forget he was a big, powerful man. And one used to wielding his authority. He threaded his fingers through her hair, combing gently with his big hands. The faint tugs tingled and stirred a strange yearning in her while her gaze locked with his.
Watching her, taking great care, Colin slowly combed free her hair until the mass of it tumbled over her shoulders down to her waist. “Your hair is long,” he said in a husky voice, realizing the hints of beauty he had seen earlier were correct. Her hair was a silken cascade that gave her an earthy, touchable look. No practical, sensible hair here, but a mass of vibrant hair that conjured up erotic images of it spilling over her naked body.
“This isn’t the real color,” she admitted, touching a lock while he continued to comb his fingers through it.
“It’s red, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I colored it, trying to hide from the men Sloan sent after me. It was useless.”
“They’re pros and disguises won’t do you much good. You’re right—you’re too tall to really hide from them.”
She closed her eyes, feeling as if she had received a blow to her midsection. Was she that obvious?
“Katherine, turn around and I’ll give your shoulders a massage that will help you relax,” he said gently, trying to get the erotic images out of his mind.
Katherine studied him, gazing into dark eyes that stared back openly, waiting patiently, something she had never known Sloan to do. “Thanks, but that’s all right.”
“Turn around,” he said gently. “You should get used to someone being nice to you.”
Colin received another faint half smile as Katherine turned around. Feeling as if he were handling fragile crystal, he reached out carefully and lifted the heavy curtain of hair. She reached up and pulled it all over her right shoulder.
With care he touched her shoulders lightly. She stiffened, drawing a swift breath that he heard and he made his touch even lighter, leaning close to her ear. “I promised you, I won’t ever hurt you. Trust me. Pretend it’s your friend in California rubbing your shoulders,” Colin whispered, damning Sloan Manchester and determined to erase her fear if only for a few minutes.
Katherine shivered, hating his touch, frightened, feeling vulnerable, remembering the early days with Sloan, when he had started out touching her and acting friendly and then suddenly he had been cursing her and hurting her. Remembering too clearly, she gasped and stiffened. His hands stilled instantly.
“Shh, Katherine. It’s all right. You’re damn tense. I promised I won’t hurt you,” he whispered as his hands moved again, lightly massaging muscles that she guessed were probably in knots. He rubbed so faintly across her shoulders, keeping his touch impersonal. As he began to massage more strongly, she breathed deeply. Gradually her fear diminished, until finally it was gone. She relaxed, closing her eyes, trusting him and wondering if she would be disappointed.
“I trust you, Colin Whitefeather,” she whispered more to herself than him. “Don’t betray my trust, because it has been more years than I can remember since I trusted a man.”
Colin heard her mumbling and leaned forward and caught the last of her words. His heart lurched and he wanted to cradle her in his arms and tell her she was safe. And he couldn’t. If he did, he would be lying through his teeth to her. She would have his protection, probably for less than twenty-four hours. And he couldn’t offer her anything more than protection while she was under his roof.
She slanted him a look over her shoulder and his pulse jumped at the curiosity in her green eyes and the faint smile that curved her lips. “You said you’re not married. You must date someone.”
While they studied each other, he shook his head. Her eyes were thickly lashed, the dark red lashes curving. For the first time he realized she wasn’t wearing mascara on them. She had made her brows thicker, covered her face in thick makeup that was dark beneath her eyes, but her lashes were without the goop she had on her face. He wanted to take his handkerchief and wipe it all away, but he didn’t want to alarm her again.
“No. I haven’t wanted to date since Dana’s death.”
“How long ago?”
“Two years, five months and about ten days.”
She twisted around to stare at him. With the movement, her hair swirled across her back. “You must have loved her very much,” she said with wonder in her voice.
“I did.”
“I’m sorry, Colin.”
It was the first time she had called him by his first name and a little tingle of awareness startled him.
She turned around to let him continue the massage. He parted her hair, placing half over one shoulder and half over the other—out of the way of his hands. It left a triangle of flesh bare along her nape and he stared at the short locks curling above her collar, the satiny skin that he longed to brush with his fingers. The shorter hair at the nape of her neck was red. As he began to massage, Katherine’s shoulders felt delicate, and Colin realized the baggy clothes hid a slender figure because he could feel her shoulder blades through the fuzzy sweater.
“How will you support this baby?”
“I’m studying accounting. I’m taking correspondence courses from Louisiana State. I want to eventually get a degree in accounting.”
They sat in silence until finally she turned and scooted away from him, smiling at him. “Thank you. That was relaxing.”
She kicked off her shoes and turned to lean back on her arms and stretch out her long legs, placing her feet in front of the fire. Her tummy looked like a small round ball and he was still amazed she was due in a week.
“You said you’ve seen doctors. Did they tell you that you’ll have a small baby?”
“The last doctor said about six pounds.”
“You don’t look ready to deliver.”
“So how do you know so much about it?” she asked, tilting her head to study him.
“I don’t. I’ve just seen women and worked with women who are pregnant. I’ve delivered two babies.”
“My goodness!” she exclaimed, flashing him a dazzling, dimpled smile that made his heart race. “I’m in good hands then, if this baby decides not to follow the schedule.”
“Don’t even say it. I was terrified both times. One was a woman caught in a flooded area and another was a woman in a car on the way to the hospital. Somewhere there’s a little Colin named after me because of my midwifery.”
She laughed, and he wished he could keep her smiling all evening. Sitting on the floor near her feet, he shifted around to face her, locking his arms around his knees with his back to the dying fire. “Feet cold? I can place another log on the fire.”
“No need. This is warming my feet.”
“What would happen if you called the hometown papers and let them know about the gubernatorial candidate?” he asked. Immediately the shuttered look returned to her eyes.
“I tried that long ago. He’s got control of his press. He has good friends there.”
“He can’t have good friends at every Louisiana paper. Keep trying.”
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