“Up until two weeks ago the woman was married. I’m guessin’ no one spoke for her but her husband.”
Kirkpatrick snorted. “That laughingstock could never manage a firebrand like Rachel. She needs a firm and steady hand to tame her.”
If Kirkpatrick considered taming Rachel an achievable feat, Caleb needed to rethink his assessment of the man’s intelligence.
“And who do you think has spoken for her then?”
“Me.”
It was Caleb’s turn to smile. “From what I’ve seen, she can’t abide your presence. Can’t imagine she’d be hitching her saddle to your horse any time soon.”
“The woman just needs a little convincing. She doesn’t know what’s best for her. But she can’t keep on tryin’ to run the Circle S herself. She’ll run it into the ground. Either way, I end up with what I want. Only a matter of whether she gets something out of it or not.”
Behind him, the piano banged out a lively tune, grating on Caleb’s worn nerves. The realization of what Rachel was up against hit him full force. Kirkpatrick didn’t just want the land, he wanted Rachel with it, and he had no intention of relenting. Caleb gritted his teeth at the mere idea of Rachel being subjected to Kirkpatrick’s attentions, knowing he would keep at her, searching out her weaknesses and picking away at them until she bled.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“Leave Rachel alone.”
Triumph glittered in Kirkpatrick’s eyes. “Rachel now is it? Guess you know the widow a mite better than you been lettin’ on.”
Caleb bit his tongue. He’d said enough. He tossed back the last bit of the whiskey and slammed the glass down on the bar, tossing a few coins after it.
“Maybe I best pay the widow a visit,” Kirkpatrick mused.
“Maybe you best stay out of her way. And mine.” Caleb started for the door.
“Bold threat coming from a man with no guns.”
Caleb turned and glared at the man, venom sharpening his words. “There’s plenty of ways to kill a man, Kirkpatrick. You keep this up, and I’ll show you every last one of them.”
Fire burned in his veins as he left the saloon and headed back to the Pagget. This situation became more complicated by the minute.
They couldn’t reveal the truth about the new ownership for fear of ruining her reputation and having people look at her the way they had her mama. He couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t chance her being ostracized by the town because of him. It would put her at further risk. And he couldn’t return ownership of the land to her without putting her in danger of Kirkpatrick’s greed.
He groaned and ran a hand over his face as he stood outside the entrance to the Pagget. Kirkpatrick’s designs on Rachel’s body, as well as her land, changed everything.
The truth of it slapped him in the face.
He already cared too much to leave her at the mercy of Shamus Kirkpatrick.
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel stoked the small fire until the blaze caught and held. The hotel room felt even chillier after she’d undressed and washed using the cold water in the basin. She would have preferred to order up a hot bath, sink down into rose-scented water and forget this day had ever happened, but she couldn’t afford the luxury.
She doubted a warm bath would be able to erase the feeling of Caleb’s hands on her body, entangled in her hair, his mouth devouring hers. She shook her head. She had almost given in, almost let her desires gain the upper hand. She had broken their kiss, yes, but she hadn’t had the strength to send him away. Not when everything inside of her wanted him to stay.
In the end, it had been Caleb who drew them back from the edge, sensing she wasn’t ready. But was she?
Her eyes strayed to the bed and she shivered, imagining all the things that could have happened. All the things she secretly wanted to happen.
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to shake off the memory, pulling the blanket from the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. She’d stripped down to her chemise and bloomers.
Outside, the raucous noise from the saloons below drifted up, muffled by the closed window until it became nothing more than a hum in the background.
Rachel wondered if Caleb had ended up in one of them after he left. From her window she’d watched him head in the direction of the main part of town, away from the seedier saloons. She had no idea where he’d gone, and it wasn’t any of her business. But curiosity didn’t care about what was proper or appropriate.
Something about Caleb kept drawing her in, despite every effort to prevent it. He was like a beacon in the night whilst she was a lost ship looking for land. It was a ludicrous notion. She knew nothing about him, outside of his aversion to small, enclosed spaces. He talked little about himself. But every now and again she spied a deeper well of character, and those were the moments she held close. They were small gems that made her feel less alone in the world.