A Cowboy for Katie Read online

Page 3


  Unable to hold it in any longer, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “I was thinking it might be best to start the barn, get it cleaned up before we start on the house. You could have a roof over your head while we work on the house.”

  “I’m fine.” She shook her head. “We’ve already settled this. You can stay in there. I’m fine out here.” Her voice shook slightly and she stirred the beans faster.

  “But—”

  “I’m fine,” she broke in. “The open air suits me. Sleep where you want, but I hired you to help rebuild the house—not to tell me where I need to sleep.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” he snapped, his irritation flaring.

  “It . . . it’s what I want. And that’s all that matters.” She grabbed a tin plate, dipped a large ladle of beans onto it, and stomped around the fire to hold it out to him.

  Stubborn woman! He’d figured there’d be trouble working for her. “It isn’t right,” he said as he reached for the dish. His fingers brushed hers—his pulse jumped at the touch and a tingling sensation raced up his arm.

  Katie yanked her hand away almost before he got a good grip on the dish. “It’s right for me. I can’t help if you don’t like it. I didn’t ask you either.”

  She stalked back to the other side of the fire before looking across the flames at him. The woman was small, but the fire in her eyes clearly said, Back off. He got the feeling she’d felt the same tingling sensation he had when they’d touched, and she didn’t like it either.

  “Fine, have it your way,” he grunted. Tugging his hat low over his eyes, he held back further comments and dug into his beans. He wasn’t here to talk sense into her, and he wasn’t here for romance. He was here for a horse. And that was it.

  This was going to be a long few months.

  How bad did he need a horse?

  He thought about Galveston and how much he wanted to see the ocean.

  He needed a horse bad.

  And the truth was, Katie Pearl needed his help.

  Even if she was determined to sleep in the elements.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AS THE DARK SETTLED IN, KATIE ADDED ANOTHER LOG to the fire. The sky was clear with stars twinkling, and that at least gave her some comfort. Across the fire, Treb had stretched out on his bedroll and now lay there with his boots crossed and his hat pulled down over his face, his hands folded over his chest. Studying him, she thought about the way her pulse had reacted when their fingers had touched. It had almost taken her breath away. Infuriating man, made her mad, and yet she had reacted to his touch as if she . . . were attracted to him. She tried not to think about that, tried hard to put it out of her mind. He was irritating; still, she found a bit of peace looking across that fire and seeing him there. Her heart hammered relentlessly despite it, just as it did every night when the darkness sank in around her.

  She prayed for the morning to come soon and the sun to peek over the distant horizon. She knew she would have to burn a lot of logs before that moment came. Sitting with her back against the large log she’d rolled into place that first night alone, she drew her legs up and wrapped the blanket around herself.

  Leaning her forehead on her knees, she rocked gently, trying not to think about the darkness . . . “The morning will come soon enough, Katie girl,” she whispered, keeping her voice low but needing the comfort she found in the sound.

  “You just hold on, my girl. Hold on.” Her heart ached for the sound of her pa’s deep, reassuring voice. “You’ve got nothing to be concerned about, Katie girl. You’ve got help now. A strong man to lend a hand.” She could see her pa even now, so strong.

  “He’ll be moving on, Pa. Soon as the work is done.”

  “Until then, you’ve got some comfort. Make a list, get it done. And calm down. Things will be all right. God has a plan.”

  Katie could feel her pa as if he were sitting right beside her having the conversation. He’d talked to her and comforted her that night. He’d been her saving grace during the nightmare of being trapped beneath the rubble of her home. Hearing his voice had kept her hanging on. As usual her head throbbed when she thought too much about the days she lay there. Things muddled together. She couldn’t remember everything, and when she tried to bring it all back, the hurting in her head got worse.

  Suddenly feeling weary through and through, she lifted her head and rested her chin on her knees. Her eyes grew heavy as her gaze settled on Treb in the flickering light. The throbbing eased and her nerves seemed to calm looking at him. Was it that for the first time in weeks she wasn’t by herself? Somehow, knowing he was across the fire from her helped.

  It felt good not to be alone.

  Treb rubbed his eyes as the scent of coffee, and frying bacon had him sitting up to the rumble of his stomach. Katie was busy flipping the bacon in the pan. Her hair had escaped the plait and tendrils lay softly against her cheek. She looked tired—it was no wonder since as far as he could tell, she hadn’t slept last night. He’d drifted off to the sound of her mumbling softly to herself.

  At first she had mumbled in the same absent way she’d talked in the wagon on the way over. But this time his boss lady had been talking to herself. Not only talking—she’d held an entire conversation with herself as if there were another person sitting there talking to her, only Katie Pearl was doing the talking for both of them.

  Crazy Katie, they’d called her. With every passing moment it was becoming a little clearer why.

  “Mornin’,” he grunted, rubbing his jaw.

  “Morning.” She poured a cup of coffee and held the tin out to him. “I was just about to wake you. We’ve got a long day of work ahead of us.”

  “Thanks.” He took the offered cup, his fingers brushing hers for a moment. Instantly his insides seemed to jump again at the contact, and his eyes latched onto hers and didn’t want to let go. He’d thought it had been because of the fight they were having last night. Not so this morning. “Did you sleep any?”

  A blush tinged her cheeks buttercup pink. “Enough.”

  He sipped the hot coffee and let the bitter brew spread through him as he studied her. She was a puzzle.

  Finally he couldn’t help it. “Why won’t you go in the barn?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Because. I don’t want to. That’s your job. I don’t want to get into it again today. So, what do you know about building a house?”

  Prickly. Prickly. He understood prickly. He also understood a change of subject when he heard it. “I’ve helped build a few.”

  “Good. I mean, I could’ve done it myself. I just didn’t know how sturdy it would be.”

  He nodded toward the makeshift pen that Myrtle May stood in. “If that’s a sampling of your skills, then I can safely say you need to let me take the lead on the house building.”

  Uncertainty lit her expression. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Is so. Your horse is only staying in because she wants to. She could walk out of there in a heartbeat.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and then handed him a tin plate with a stack of bacon and a hard biscuit.

  He was careful not to touch her as he took the plate of food. As they ate, he noticed her eyes went over to her handiwork on the corrals several times, and each time he felt worse about telling her she’d done a poor job.

  When he finished breakfast, he went over to look at the horses. Katie came to stand beside him. “The black one was my pa’s, and the chestnut is my cattle horse. But the rest of them you can pick from. You can start figuring out which one suits you anytime you want.”

  “Thanks. They’re a fine bunch of horses. Who broke them?”

  She looked up at him, her brows crinkled over those pretty blue eyes. “I did.”

  “You?”

  She crossed her arms. “Yes, I did. Not that we normally tell folks that because they might not want to buy them. But it’s the truth.”

  Silence stretched between them and he found
himself smiling in the end. She was a stubborn, unpredictable woman. “Did your pa raise you to be independent or did you fight so hard he had no other choice?”

  The challenge in her expression eased. “It’s a hard land out here. It killed my ma early—she was too soft to make it. So Pa toughened me up from an early age.”

  Treb thought of his mother and sister, and his insides twisted. “You took to it like a baby duck takes to a watering hole, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” A faint smile bloomed across her face.

  It was a small one but it took Treb’s breath away. She’d been so serious and sad-looking the entire time he’d known her. For an instant he imagined her as she’d been before the tornado tore up her world. Then a flashback to a time before he’d lost his family slammed into him. Tragedy changed a person. It had changed him. Suddenly he wished with all his heart that Katie Pearl would not have suffered loss such as she had.

  “Well, I best be getting to work on rebuilding your house, Katie Pearl. Maybe that’ll make that smile show up more often. It looks right nice on you.” He tipped his hat, spun on his boot heels, and strode across the yard to the barn.

  It was time to get to work.

  They spent the day hauling out the good wood from the ruins of the house for repurposing, setting the rest aside for firewood. From the look of last night’s fire, he figured Katie was going to need a lot of wood. She’d burned that fire long and hot all night.

  The sun was a scorcher, and by midday they were both soaked with sweat, but Katie never slowed down. She hauled wood like a pack mule. She also hadn’t talked much—at least not to him. He’d caught her a time or two talking to herself when he’d come around a corner. After thinking on it he’d decided that given what she’d been through, she was due a few oddities. She was tough—he was learning that more and more. He didn’t know all the details of what had happened, but after getting to know her a little better, he figured it had been bad. Probably would have broken a softer woman.

  A man rode into the yard that afternoon.

  Treb saw Katie’s hand move to her gun as she watched him approach. “What do you need, Preacher?”

  Treb wouldn’t have guessed the solid-built man was a preacher. He looked more like a lawman.

  The preacher smiled. “I came to see if you needed anything, Katie. And to see if we can expect you at Sunday services. That’s all.” His hands tightened on the leather reins as his shrewd navy eyes dug into Treb, giving him the once-over. “And to see if this man you’d hired was a decent sort. The kind who would respect your wishes.”

  Treb suddenly felt as if he were being judged by Katie’s pa on whether he was good enough to court her.

  Katie scowled. “I can take care of myself, Preacher Dawson. And I won’t be coming to services.”

  “Have you reconsidered letting us come out here to help get things in order?”

  “I don’t want any help. I hired myself a man. And he’ll do just fine.”

  The preacher didn’t linger long, obviously having learned that there were times when it was best to retreat. But not before he let Treb know where to find him and that if he needed any help to let him know.

  By the time the evening came around, black and ominous clouds gathered on the horizon and the wind kicked up something fierce. Katie had been carrying firewood when she paused to stare at the dark clouds rolling fast across the sky. Her blue dress billowed in the strong wind and her hair streamed out behind her.

  “Don’t you think we better move the supplies into the barn?” Treb asked. When Katie turned to reply, her complexion was ashen. “Are you okay?”

  She blinked and took a deep breath, still looking alarmed. He put down the wood in his arms, realizing something wasn’t right. But before he could ask more questions, rain started coming down in sheets. He broke into action, jogging toward the supplies.

  “I’m going to move your food supplies into the barn,” he called over the wind. “It’ll all be ruined if we don’t do something.”

  She didn’t move at first. Then seemed to snap out of whatever held her captive and followed him. “I’ll help.” She grabbed a bag of flour while he grabbed a large sack of oats and hurried into the barn. He set the sack in the corner where it would be safe and realized that Katie hadn’t followed him. She was grabbing supplies and dropping them off at the entrance of the barn but not coming inside. He rushed past her to grab the heavier feed sacks, and when he was done with those, he took up bringing what she’d piled in the wide doorway.

  Her dress was plastered to her and rainwater ran off the limp rim of her hat like a waterfall. She was drenched, but still she didn’t step into the protection of the barn.

  The wind whipped about them, howling as the storm moved in, fierce as a pack of wolves. Lightning flashed across the sky. Katie jumped but she remained rooted to the spot, frozen, staring at the sky.

  “Come on.” He had to raise his voice over the wind as he took her arm. “We’ve got to get inside.”

  “No!” she cried, yanking her arm free. Her eyes were wide with terror as she backed away from the barn, totally exposed to the storm. Rain was blowing sideways now. The wind was so strong she had to lean into it to stay upright.

  “Katie, you have to get out of this.”

  She didn’t seem to hear him.

  “Katie, you have to come inside the barn,” he yelled. He was beside her in two strides. Water dripped from her face. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates as she stared at him. “Come on, Katie.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “No! I don’t have to do anything you say. I’ll stay right here.”

  “You can’t stay here,” he yelled over a crack of thunder. “You could be hurt. Come on.” He reached for her arm but she jumped away.

  “Leave me be. I’m not going in there! I can’t.”

  It dawned on him then as he looked from her to the barn why in all this time she hadn’t set foot into the barn. She was afraid of being inside. He thought of the way she’d stood outside the General Store and hadn’t entered the building. And who could blame her? She’d been trapped beneath her home when it had fallen down on top of her. The terror was clearly visible on her face. When the lightning lit up the night again, too close for comfort, he felt for her. There was no way she could stay out in this.

  With no other options, and before she had a chance to shoot him, he reached for her.

  “No,” she cried, sounding like a wild animal.

  Treb ignored her—he had to—as he scooped her into his arms, being careful to clamp his hands around her arms so she couldn’t get at her gun. Good thing he did, since she turned into a wildcat.

  “Put me down,” she screamed, kicking and fighting.

  Ignoring her, he strode toward the barn.

  “Nooo! Not in there. Nooo!” she cried.

  “You can’t stay in this storm, Katie.” He was losing patience. Fool woman should know this was the only way. He strode into the barn.

  “You no-good, lily-livered skunk! Let me go!” Wiggling her arm loose, she walloped him on the side of the head.

  “Ow! Hold still, you wildca—”

  She got another wallop in. This time she managed to startle him so bad his hold on her loosened, and she flew out of his arms. He managed to snag her pistol out of its holder, though, and was sure he’d saved his own life in the process.

  Stuffing it in the back waistband of his britches, he wondered how in the name of thunder he was going to get Katie calmed down. He was between her and the exit of the barn. Through the hole in the roof, lightning lit up the darkened sky. Thunder cracked instantly. Katie looked like a cornered animal, darting from side to side and looking for a way to get past him. “Let me out,” she gasped, racing forward suddenly, so terrified that she tried to run right by him. He wrapped his arms around her. She elbowed him hard in the ribs, then kicked him in his knee with the heel of her boot.

  “Umph!” he grunted, barely hanging on to her. She kicked him
in the knee again, then twisted loose as he buckled in pain. Grabbing his knee, he watched her race into the storm.

  For a little thing she made him feel like he’d just tangled with five of her. It was embarrassing. “Katie, come back,” he yelled, his words disappearing on the wind just as she disappeared into the darkness.

  What had he gotten himself into? The question came at him once more as he limped out into the rain calling his boss’s name. It was a silly question, that was for sure, because ten minutes ago he might not have known—but now he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

  A mess. Pure and simple. One strange mess.

  Rain rolled down his face and dripped off the brim of his hat like a river. Hanging his head, he stared at his boots. Water puddled about them.

  Katie was terrified of being trapped. The realization hit him hard—shamed him.

  She’d laid under her house trapped alive for days in a grave, basically. It all made sense to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go in the barn. She couldn’t.

  And when he’d forced her, she’d gone wild.

  She was probably afraid of the dark too.

  That would explain the fires and the way her hand shook last night as dusk came and went. And talking to herself? It could very well explain that too.

  Katie Pearl was afraid of the dark.

  His little sister had been afraid of the dark. The memory came at him from a long way off. He remembered how he used to tease her about it. Even jumped out at her a time or two . . . stupid adolescent fun. It was a regret he’d lived with ever since she’d—since they’d all died nearly ten years ago.

  He had to find Katie.

  Had to find her and get her out of this. Get her safe.

  “Katie!” he yelled to the wind, then took off jogging.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KATIE RAN UNTIL SHE WAS OUT IN THE CENTER OF THE meadow and even then she kept running, her heart pounding. The storm—the terrible, awful sound of the tornado coming—rang in her ears. She stumbled and fell hard to her knees.