A Husband Made In Texas. Rosemary Carter
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plane this time, Flynn. Unless, of course, you reverted to your original mode of transport and arrived on horseback.’
He laughed. ‘All the way from Austin? Hardly.’ He glanced at the radio perched on a tree-stump beside the can of paint ‘Can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t hear the plane above the din.’
Kaitlin touched a dial and lowered the decibels. ‘Not surprising at all,’ she conceded as the throbbing beat of saxophone and drums faded into background music.
‘You used to be a country and western fan, Kaitlin.’
‘I still am, but there’s nothing like variety. Been here long, Flynn?’
‘A while.’
‘I believe you’ve been watching me, cowboy.’
‘You believe right.’
A few drops of white dropped from Kaitlin’s brush as she leaned it across the rim of her bucket. As she came to Flynn, he was struck anew by her extreme slenderness and the gracefulness of her movements. Tendrils of hair escaped from beneath her Stetson to curl on her forehead, giving her a waiflike appearance that tugged at his heartstrings, and made his expression darken. The last thing Flynn wanted was for Kaitlin to touch his emotions.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked.
‘To see you?’ he suggested.
‘Obviously—but not for friendly reasons. Whatever it is, it’ll concern the ranch and the mortgage.’
‘Does it have to be the reason? Men must come here all the time to woo the lovely Kaitlin Mullins.’
There was a sudden tightness around her lips. ‘I don’t have time for sarcasm, Flynn. Tell me why you’re here, let’s deal with it, whatever it is—and then I’ll ask you to leave.’
A dark eyebrow lifted. ‘Was I being sarcastic?’
‘What do you call it?’
‘I thought I was being complimentary. An invitation to one of your parties used to be quite an honour.’
A shadow seemed to pass briefly before Kaitlin’s eyes. ‘Is that what it was, Flynn?’ Tension in her tone. ‘Don’t bother answering, because I don’t want to hear it: not when what you call a compliment is really an insult.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Is that the way you feel about it? Had any parties lately?’
‘No,’ she said shortly.
‘Really? You haven’t told me about the men who visit you here.’
‘There aren’t any men.’
‘I find that very hard to believe.’
‘Believe whatever you like, Flynn.’ Kaitlin pushed a hand through her hair, the gesture heavy with weariness. ‘The truth is, I don’t have time in my life for men. Just as I don’t have time for wisecracks and insults and sarcasm.’
Flynn reached out and touched her left cheek, dabbing at it with his forefinger. As Kaitlin stepped abruptly back wards, he said mildly, ‘Just removing some paint.’
‘I’ll wash it off at the house.’
He eyed her quizzically. ‘When did you become so prickly, Kaitlin?’
‘When did you become so overbearing and arrogant?’ she countered.
For a long moment Flynn was silent, struck by the strain he saw in the delicate-featured face. Kaitlin looked ready to drop with fatigue, he thought.
Softly, he said, ‘This kind of talk isn’t really getting us anywhere, is it?’
‘No... Which is why I wish you’d leave.’
‘Not just yet,’ he said evenly. ‘For one thing, I want to know why you’re out here slaving in this devilish heat.’
‘Slaving? I’m just painting a fence, Flynn.’
‘In this scorcher? You’ll be telling me next that you enjoy working so hard when you could be somewhere cooler.’
Her lips quivered slightly. ‘I do like painting.’
‘You could be paying a man to do it for you.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Flynn, I can’t believe you’d say anything so silly this close to the end of the twentieth century! Don’t you know yet that a woman can do anything she puts her mind to?’
‘Sure I do—but at risk of being labelled a chauvinist, I don’t believe you took on this task just for the fun of it. So maybe you’d like to tell me why you’re doing it?’
‘Flynn—’
‘And why you’re working alone at it.’
Kaitlin took a shuddering breath. Hearing it, Flynn was overcome by a desire—an utterly insane desire—to rescue her from her drudgery, to protect her.
Protect her, indeed! Since when had spoiled Kaitlin Mullins—doted on by her parents, given everything she ever wanted—needed protection?
‘Last time I was here, you told me you were shorthanded. Now I want to know whether you’re trying to run the ranch on your own. The truth, Kaitlin.’
The look she threw him was part withering outrage, part assumed wide-eyed innocence. ‘On my own? Of course not! How could I possibly cope?’
‘You couldn’t,’ Flynn acknowledged abruptly.
‘There’s your answer then.’
‘No, because whatever you say, there don’t seem to be many cowboys on this ranch.’
‘Didn’t we talk about that last time? There are cowboys—not many, but enough. If you haven’t seen them ‘it’s because they’re out on the range, roping and branding. So you see, Flynn, your concerns are unwarranted.’
Kaitlin accompanied the words with a grin which, if she hadn’t looked quite so tired, might have succeeded in being provocative. As it was, it made her look more vulnerable than ever.
Flynn swallowed down hard over the unwelcome and unexpected lump in his throat. ‘All the same,’ he said after a moment, ‘I still wonder how you’re managing.’
‘Isn’t it enough that I’m doing it?’
‘How, Kaitlin?’
‘I don’t owe you any answers, Flynn.’
‘I think you’re forgetting something.’
‘The mortgage.’ Her eyes clouded. ‘I haven’t forgotten it. It haunts me day and night, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you told me about it. I know I have to make regular payments, and I will.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Of course, I realize that with Bill out of the picture the whole scenario has changed. No matter what you say about Bill—and I keep wishing he’d had the courage to tell me the truth—he was never unkind.’
‘Whereas you see me—’Flynn’s grin was wicked ‘—as some kind of monster?’
‘I get the feeling you’ve turned into an unforgiving sort of man.’
Flynn’s grin vanished. Didn’t Kaitlin understand that some things were impossible to forgive?
After a moment he said, ‘I’m a businessman, Kaitlin. Unlike your good buddy Bill, I don’t let friendship or personalities get in the way of my business arrangements. If that makes me unkind and a monster, then maybe that’s what I am—at least in your eyes. Now, Kaitlin, suppose you tell me, honestly, why there are so few cowboys at the ranch.’
‘I still say I don’t have to give you any answers. As long as you get your payments, that’s all that should interest you.’