Two Texas Hearts

FIVE

WHEN SHE STEPPED ONTO THE THIRD FLOOR, KORA almost tripped over a pile of muddy clothes. Winter must have stripped as he climbed. Slowly she leaned and picked up the garments, thinking of how tired he’d have to be after riding all night. Maybe she should have just offered to let him sit down to breakfast instead of insisting he wash first.

The sunrise was still shades of purple light, but she could see the outline of Winter as she moved into the attic room. He’d removed all his clothing, except his jeans, and was standing with his back to her. Somehow, leaning over the basin, bare chested and wearing so little, he didn’t seem all that invincible. After placing the clothes in a basket she’d brought up linens in, she stood at the top of the stairs watching him.

Her new bedroom was cluttered with things she and Jamie could carry up, but it still looked more like an attic than a bedroom. Only the man before her seemed to belong in this huge room framed in windows with only miles of sky for curtains.

As she watched, he poured a pitcher of water over his head and scrubbed away the dirt. Water splashed around the washstand, making a plopping sound on the hardwood floor below. Kora let out a cry as moisture spotted the wood, already badly in need of polishing.

Winter’s body stiffened at her outburst. He grabbed a towel and turned to face her. A worried frown darkened his already stormy expression.

When he saw where she stared, he said in a tone more of explanation than apology, ‘‘I’m sorry about the water. I guess I’m used to washing in the tub at the washstand. This little basin is pretty, but it doesn’t hold much. I could scrub up-’’

‘‘I’ll move a larger one up,’’ she whispered more to herself than him. ‘‘And maybe I’ll put a rug beneath the stand.’’

‘‘Don’t go to any trouble.’’ Winter wasn’t sure what to say. She was doing her best to be a wife, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to act. Did he thank her for doing what she thought was her job? Or did he get angry at the way she’d ordered him around downstairs like he was a guest who didn’t know how to act inside the house… Her house, he reminded himself… at least for six months. He’d told her she was the one to set the rules; the least he could do was follow them and not start a war over the first one she laid down. He could clean up before sitting at her table, and he could use the porch like the others from now on. It was foolish to bring water up two flights of stairs when he’d washed outside all his life.

He widened his stance and waited for her to look up. Win knew his voice hadn’t sounded kind, but she should at least realize he was trying. Marriage was probably like getting a new horse; they’d both have some adjusting to do. He watched her, wondering how long it would be before they’d be comfortable with each other. He was a good provider; she seemed to be a hard worker. What more did they need to make the marriage seem real?

Slowly her gaze climbed from the floor up his body. He noticed she reddened slightly as she focused on the top of his jeans where he’d left the first button undone. Her breathing quickened as she looked over the flat line of his stomach and the wall of his chest. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn she’d never seen a man barechested, up close. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Not knowing what he should do, Winter rubbed the towel over his chest and continued to watch her. Her gaze followed his action as though her eyes and the towel were connected. He’d never given much thought one way or the other to his body, but now he felt himself wanting to grab his shirt. He suddenly felt exposed before her. What bothered him most was that he couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw. Her expression more resembled one of a woman observing a freak at the circus for the first time than a wife looking at her husband. Everything about her seemed to want to turn away, but she continued to stare.

He looped the towel around his neck and straightened slightly, as he buttoned the top button of his pants. Her eyes followed his actions closely. Winter gripped the towel ends with his hands and waited for her to make the next move. If she wanted to look, he’d allow her the time. After all, she had a right. He found himself wondering if she’d offer him the same opportunity.

Slowly her gaze reached his eyes, and she drew in a sudden breath as though what she saw frightened her even more than the sight of his body. Before he could react, she’d stepped away into the blackness of the stairs.

‘‘Kora,’’ he almost yelled. ‘‘Kora, what is it?’’

Only her voice reached him. A hesitant voice that seemed to be making up words even as she spoke. ‘‘I came up to… ask you where… you store your shirts.’’

Winter took a step toward the open stairwell. ‘‘In the study,’’ he answered. ‘‘But I can get one as I go down.’’

‘‘No, I’ll bring a shirt up.’’

Just as she moved down another step, Winter’s hand reached out and closed around her arm. ‘‘Wait!’’ he ordered as he joined her in the darkness. ‘‘Don’t be frightened.’’

He could feel her trembling. Her skin was soft, but icy with terror.

‘‘What is it, Kora? Why are you so afraid of me?’’ He felt like the freak had just broken through the ropes and jumped into the crowd. ‘‘You’ve no need to be.’’

She reminded him of a trapped animal, afraid to move, afraid even to cry out. She pulled away, not enough to break the hold, but enough to let him know that when he opened the trap, she’d be gone.

He loosened his grip and stepped closer. ‘‘You don’t have to be afraid of me, Kora. I’m your husband. I swear I’ll never hurt you.’’ Could she really think him some kind of monster? Surely she wouldn’t have married him if she had. He would rather have Jamie’s threat of knives than Kora’s sudden fear. Maybe she was afraid because she knew Jamie wasn’t near enough to step between them. Didn’t she know if he’d wanted to be close, Jamie couldn’t stop him?

He guessed it wasn’t uncommon for men to strike their wives, but it wasn’t in his nature. If only she’d believe him.

‘‘Kora, I-’’

‘‘Let go of my arm,’’ she whispered so low he wouldn’t have heard the words if there had been another foot between them.

Winter didn’t want to let go. He knew she’d back away. He wanted to face whatever problem or fear she had. But he couldn’t frighten her more. He could almost hear her heart pounding and taste her panic in the air between them. Slowly his fingers loosened. He let his hand brush the length of her arm before he released her.

She darted down the stairs. ‘‘I’ll bring you a clean shirt.’’

Winter stared long after he’d heard her footsteps hurry away. All night, when he’d thought of her, he’d never thought of her being so afraid of him. She’d been shy at the wedding, but not this. After all, she was a widow. She’d already had one man in her life. Surely he couldn’t be all that different?

He was waiting for her on the landing when she returned. With a silent nod, he thanked her and pulled on the shirt as he followed her down.

The cowhands were already seated at the table. Jamie was smiling at each one, reminding Winter of a pickpocket sizing up the wealth of each man’s purse. Most of the hands were too tired and hungry to pay much attention. They were far more interested in the food she carried than the invitation in her eyes.

Walking to one end of the table, Winter pointed to an empty chair next to the one he chose. ‘‘You’ll join us?’’

Kora hesitated, then took the seat. ‘‘Only if Jamie does also.’’

He looked up at his sister-in-law. ‘‘Will you?’’ He silently hoped she’d take one of the empty places at the opposite end.

‘‘I will if you’ll make that man you call Cheyenne sit down, too!’’ Jamie shouted over all the others. ‘‘I want him where I can see him. The man’s got murder in his eyes every time he looks at me.’’

Turning, Winter knew that Cheyenne would be standing near the door. ‘‘Will you join us?’’

Cheyenne didn’t move. He stared at Jamie, waiting for her to attack at any moment. His dark eyes sparked with annoyance as if he’d just witnessed a plague talking.

‘‘Please,’’ Kora said. ‘‘We’d be honored if you’d join us.’’

Winter watched as Cheyenne looked from Jamie to Kora and the Indian’s eyes softened. Winter may have been making the offer because it was a condition Jamie insisted on, but Kora’s invitation was real and as rare in Cheyenne’s life as an eclipse.

Nodding once, he took his place at the far end of the table, as many chairs away from Jamie as possible.

Winter stood behind his wife’s chair for a moment, too shocked to move. In the years he’d known Cheyenne, the man had never sat at a table with him. But, in all honesty, Winter could never remember him being invited. Could it be possible that Cheyenne had waited all this time simply for an invitation?

Gently he touched Kora’s shoulder. ‘‘Thank you,’’ he mumbled as he took the seat beside her.

She smiled proudly as she passed him a platter of eggs. ‘‘It was fun to cook with a kitchen so fully stocked. As I organize everything, I’ll be much faster.’’

He hadn’t been talking about the food when he’d thanked her, but Winter didn’t want to correct her. He realized he probably should have thanked her for the meal. As he looked around at all the platters, he guessed she must have gone to a great deal of trouble.

Win also noticed she hadn’t shied away when he’d touched her shoulder in public. Just as she hadn’t seemed shy when Jamie was around. Was that the way it was going to be? He could touch her, even kiss her on the cheek when others were near, but when they were alone, she would back away from him as if in fear? The woman acted as though she had some terrible secret he’d discover if he got too close. Or maybe she saw Jamie as her guardian angel, just as she knew Dan, her older brother, could never be.

As he tasted the food, he suddenly realized how hungry he was. Everything was warm and freshly baked. To Winter’s surprise, he ate as hardily as all the hands. Only

Cheyenne hesitated over each bite, as if testing it for poison before swallowing.

The men talked of the blockade and the days ahead. As spring approached, the chances of herds trying to cross grew greater. If even a small herd passed over the pasture land, it could mean death for hundreds of cattle.

Finally the platters were all empty, and each cowhand thanked Kora greatly for the fine meal.

Winter noticed Cheyenne also thanked Jamie, who denied doing any of the cooking. When all the men were gone, the house fell quiet.

Jamie stretched like a child. ‘‘Well, it may be morning, but I’ve had a long night. I’m picking one of those rooms upstairs and going to bed. Those dishes will wait a few hours.’’

Kora waved her out, then lifted the first stack of plates. ‘‘I think I’ll set out Dan’s clean clothes. He always takes his morning walk, then dresses for the day. He’s already picked out a rocker on the front porch. I imagine after he dresses, he’ll sit in it until dark.’’

Winter reached for her hand, then stopped, remembering what had happened upstairs. ‘‘You did a fine job getting everything organized,’’ he said, wishing he knew how to talk to her. They were alone now and he could feel the coldness returning. She wore fear like an armor.

‘‘I made your bed in the study,’’ Kora said without looking at him. ‘‘And washed your clothes.’’

Winter nodded. She’d just answered all his questions. This might be their wedding night, or morning, but there was to be nothing between them. He told himself he expected nothing. Win didn’t even know the woman. He wasn’t in the habit of sharing a bed with a woman he hadn’t spent time getting to know. Besides, he’d never be attracted to someone who feared his touch.

Give it time, he thought. Wait and see what happens. He’d got a fair bargain. Kora would be a good wife even if she only stayed the six months. She was proper and polite, a good cook, and from what he could tell, a hard worker. He had no right to ask for more. If she were one of those females who hated a man’s touch, so be it. He’d lived without a woman in his bed all his life, and he could continue to do so.

‘‘I think I’ll turn in,’’ he informed her, in a hurry to get out of the room before he said or did something foolish, or worse, something that frightened her more.

A few minutes later as he stretched out on the long couch in the study, he smiled. The clean sheets felt good. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but Kora’s memory kept creeping into his mind, keeping him awake long after he should have been resting. How could the two sisters look so much alike and be so different? He should have been attracted to Jamie. She was more his kind, half-wild, stubborn, strong. But Winter found himself fascinated with Kora. Fascinated to the point that not even sleep could push her from his mind.

When his breathing finally became slow and regular, Kora silently slipped into the room. She’d allowed plenty of time for Winter to be asleep before even listening at the door. She tiptoed across the carpet without a sound and added a log to the fire. With the rain continuing, the study would grow cold long before Winter awoke if she didn’t add wood.

He was stretched out on his back. Kora couldn’t help but watch him. Asleep, he wasn’t nearly as overwhelming and all-powerful as he seemed awake. He looked peaceful, younger. His hair was a mess and the blanket twisted across his body.

She moved to his side and pulled the blanket over more of his bare chest. She’d always thought men slept in nightshirts, but this one didn’t. His chest bore the bronze hue of his Indian blood. The skin seemed stretched over muscles made of wood. Too hard to be human, she thought. A man made of oak.

Hesitantly she brushed her fingers over his shoulder, surprised at the warmth beneath her touch.

He didn’t move.

Kora grew bolder. Her fingers lightly brushed across his chest, feeling the curve of his skin as a sculptor feels his wood carving. He was magnificent. She rested her palm over his heart, feeling the strong, steady pounding against her hand.

Kora smiled, fighting down a giggle. She felt terribly wicked touching him while he slept. She’d wanted to touch him when she’d seen the water dripping off his chest earlier, but she never dared. He hadn’t looked at her with eyes burning with fire as Jamie said a man should look at a woman. He didn’t reach for her and demand something of her she’d never given any man. She was just useful to him, nothing more.

She let her finger run over the short whiskers along his strong jaw. Hesitantly she brushed back the dark brown hair off his forehead. He was her man, she thought, if only for a while, and she’d touch him, if only in his sleep. He might not see her, but she saw him. For the first time she wished for a man like him to love. He was everything she admired and dreamt about. But it would hurt too much if he were special to her and she was just somebody, anybody, to him.

When he moved slightly, turning his head, her fingers brushed the fullness of his slightly opened mouth. The mustache tickled her fingertip. Kora felt a fire race through her arm and warm her entire body.

She knelt beside him, careful not to touch him anywhere else as she leaned slowly forward and brushed her lips over his. She told herself she only wanted to feel what a man’s lips would be like against hers, but she knew it was more. Kora wanted to taste him. He might be stronger than she’d ever be. But he was also beautiful in a way she’d never thought a man could be.

From the first, even through her fear, she was fascinated by him.

Her lips gave slightly against his. She could feel the warmth of his face and smell a wildness that blended leather and campfires and lye soap… and the wind and the rain of a great storm together into a smell that was only his. His skin had been hard with the muscles beneath, but his mouth was surprisingly soft, yielding to the pressure of her lips.

Pulling away suddenly, Kora was shocked at her own boldness. Touching a man was something Jamie might do. She was the one who always followed her feelings and desires, not Kora. Kora always followed duty.

Silently she slipped from the room, thankful Winter had been asleep and would never know of her actions. She’d never done anything so insane or so bold. He’d wanted a marriage because of the house. He’d shown no interest in her, and if he had, he would have probably frightened her to death. But despite what they’d agreed on, he belonged to her now. Legally this wild, powerful man was hers.

Running up the stairs, Kora felt her face redden with embarrassment as her heart pounded wildly. What if he had awakened? Or what if he’d thought her mad? She’d always been the logical one, always done what had to be done, never letting her feelings interfere. But when she looked at Win, she thought of what might be.

She had to keep her distance. He’d shown no sign of wanting to be near her. He was wealthier than anyone she’d ever known. He commanded an empire built on strength and honesty. Jamie was right. If they did sleep together, she’d have to explain about how she had never lain with her first husband, and Winter would find out what a lying, conniving opportunist she was. No honest man like Winter would want a wife who fooled the world into believing a dead man had married her.

Kora reached the attic and took a long breath, determined never to do anything so foolish as touching him again. She would keep her distance from Winter McQuillen. For her own sake, she could never afford to touch him as she had again. Fate and her past seemed to have stacked the deck against her, and the ante for a love that might not be returned was too high a price to pay.