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He knocked again, louder this time, and was about to go back to the hospital without her when the door opened.
For a female who’d projected such poise and confidence earlier, Caitlin was surprisingly reluctant to open the door wider than a crack. He glimpsed the towel on her head and the skimpy robe she was wearing. He felt his lips move into an irritable line.
He wasted no time on preliminaries. “Get dressed.” He stepped forward and pressed his hand on the door, but Caitlin pushed from her side to keep him from entering.
“Come back later.” Her voice sounded breathless, as if she were a little afraid of him.
He pressed on the door hard enough to demonstrate that he meant business. “You don’t have later. The doc says his time’s close.”
Reno watched the spasm of shock in her eyes. She immediately released the door and stepped back.
“I—I’d like to dry my hair,” she said as she clutched the front of the short robe and took another step back. She was bare-legged from midthigh to her toes. Reno stepped inside and closed the door with a snap.
He could smell her shampoo and the clean scent of female skin. Without her usual jeans, work shirt and boots, Caitlin looked small and vulnerable. With her mane of hair hidden in the towel, nothing distracted his attention from her face.
And her eyes. Her lashes were black from the lingering dampness of her shower and her eyes were so blue they glowed like starlit sapphires. The natural beauty of her face took his breath away. The sight of her bare legs and his very male urge to see the rest of her bare made every nerve below his waist heat and tingle.
“Cover yourself.”
His angry growl startled her into movement. She flitted away from him so suddenly that he was reminded of a fleeing doe. His gaze followed as she grabbed some clothes from an open suitcase. He didn’t breathe normally until she shut herself in the bathroom.
Reno paced the room, furious with himself for his reaction, furious with her for affecting him so strongly.
He was fair-minded enough to acknowledge that she hadn’t done anything improper, he had. He would never have forced his way into the bedroom of any scantily-clad female. He’d never had to. Why he’d pushed his way in on her when she wasn’t decent defied reason.
Caitlin was dressed in a surprisingly short time. In moments she was out of the bathroom, tearing through one of her suitcases. Her hair was out of the towel and hung in wet disarray down her back. Reno gritted his teeth at the sight until her frantic movements made an impression on him. He could see her hands were shaking. She got a brush and a hair dryer, then dashed back to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to close the door.
Reno winced as she yanked the brush through her hair. That she was in an almighty hurry made him feel faint regret. He hated the turmoil she made him feel. Though he marshaled his anger by stoking his grudge against her, he could stand to let her punish her hair only a handful of strokes before he spoke up.
“No need to tear it out.”
He’d barked the words and managed to startle her again. Her reaction reminded him of the past. Most of the time, Jess had only used one tone of voice with his daughter: harsh and loud. He’d never seemed to notice or care whether anyone else was around or not when he’d upbraided his only child. Reno ignored those times because Caitlin had sometimes deserved a scolding. He’d always assumed Jess spoke more kindly to her the rest of the time. But then, he’d lived on his own ranch near San Antonio before Beau’s death, so he’d been around infrequently.
Why he suddenly questioned Jess’s treatment of Caitlin irritated him. Jess hadn’t been an especially affectionate man, but he’d doted on Beau and had been an attentive husband to their mother. Jess had been too good a man, too fair, to treat his daughter harshly without reason.
Caitlin continued to brush her hair, but she was only marginally less rushed about it. Moments. later, she turned on the hair dryer.
Reno waited impatiently, although he was aware that no more than five minutes passed before she switched off the dryer and hastily brushed her hair again. When she finished, she hurried out of the bathroom and shoved the brush into her handbag. Neither of them spoke as they left the motel room.
You don’t have later, Reno had said. The moment he’d spoken, Caitlin’s refusal to allow her father another shot at her vanished. Jess might be moments from death. Now that the time had really come, and so suddenly, she was once again reduced to foolish hopes and impossible dreams.
Impending death had a profound effect on other people—she was certain it would on her—so perhaps it would have a positive effect on her father. The cynicism Jess Bodine had pounded into her warned that nothing had changed, but the hope she knew she’d have until her father took his last breath urged her to grab for this last chance.
She was shaking so hard when she tried to dig out the car key that she dropped it on the concrete and managed to kick it with her boot. She’d started to retrieve it when Reno stepped over and swung down to snatch it up.
“You’re ridin’ with me.”
His gruff tone was harsh and sent her gaze streaking to his. The flat hard look he gave her hurt; the way his gaze shifted from hers communicated his reluctance to bother with her.
Too terrified to waste time arguing, she went with him to his truck. It surprised her when he opened the passenger door for her, then shut it once she was inside.
Her tension climbed higher as Reno drove swiftly through town to the hospital. He only paused for stop signs and red lights. Fortunately, at just after 9:00 p.m. Coulter City traffic was relatively light, so they pulled into the hospital parking lot in record time. It seemed to take forever to park and get into the hospital. By the time they reached the ICU floor, Caitlin’s heart was pounding with anxiety.
They stepped off the elevator and were halfway down the hall when a doctor walked out of the ICU. Reno stopped and reached for her arm to halt her. The doctor caught sight of them and approached. Caitlin read his somber expression and her heart fluttered sickeningly in her chest.
The doctor’s quiet “I’m sorry,” was directed to Reno before his kind dark eyes shifted to include Caitlin. “He passed away ten minutes ago.”
The words caused a faint roaring in her ears. Her father was gone. The stifling numbness she felt helped her maintain her composure those next moments.
Reno was still gripping her arm when his fingers tightened. The hot current that radiated from his touch made a deep impression on her. The sudden human instinct to crowd close to that hot current, to somehow capture it and hold it close, made her reach for his hand.
The moment her fingers came in contact with his hard warm ones, she jerked her hand away. Confused by shock and appalled that the impulsive gesture had revealed her weakness, she tried to pull from his grip. His fingers flexed to hold her close while the doctor related an abridged version of her father’s last moments.
The words “He went easy,” stirred a restlessness that made it almost impossible for her to listen. When the doctor offered his condolences and quietly excused himself, she shuddered with relief.
Suddenly, Reno was leading her away. She walked along in a daze, dismayed by how unsteady she felt. They were alone in the elevator before she was fully aware of where he’d taken her. She pulled away to go back to the ICU, but he caught her as the doors slid shut.
Caitlin braced her hand against his chest. Her eyes were smarting and so blurred that his blue work shirt swam before her like a dark smear.
“I have to see him,” she choked out, and somehow she lost her grip on the wild feeling she dimly recognized as hysteria. “H-he can’t be gone—not after he s-said those hateful things!”
She looked up through swimming eyes and tried to focus on Reno’s harsh face. She clutched his shirt-front urgently. “Those can’t have been the only words—the only thing he had left to say—”
Reno’s hands moved to her upper arms. The action registered, but she was losing control of herself too quickly. He gave her a small shake that jarred a sob out of her. The sound helped sober her and she bit her lip ruthlessly to stop the others.
She was coming apart in the presence of the man who hated her. God, what vicious pleasure he could take from her pain! Pride wouldn’t allow this man—this man above all—to see her reduced to a pitiful heap of misery.
She tried to take a deep breath, but her throat was so swollen with pain that she could barely breathe. She tried to push away from him, but he held her too tightly.
They struggled briefly, and Caitlin realized his touch was burning her, sending sensual signals to every part of her body. But his refusal to release her so she could go to the ICU to see for herself that her father was really gone, tortured her.
It was irrational to fight him, but she did. He retaliated by backing her into the corner next to the elevator buttons. He released her arm only long enough to hit the stop button to bring the elevator to a bumping halt between floors.
Her gritted “Damn you—let me go!” only made him press harder. He wedged her lower body between his and the corner as his hands slid down her arms to her wrists. It was as if he’d read her mind and knew she was wild enough now to try to scratch him.
“It’s over.” Reno’s voice was a rough murmur.
Caitlin shook her head emphatically. “He owed me something,” she burst out “Whether I’m his daughter or not, he was all I had.”
She suddenly realized what she was saying and this time she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. There was a rampage of fury and hurt inside. Repressing it was like trying to smother a forest fire with her bare skin. She shook uncontrollably, and the effort of holding back tears made her head pound.
“H-he was a cruel, unfeeling bastard.” Hearing herself say the words aloud was shocking, and she took a series of deep breaths to calm herself before something worse came out of her mouth. She doubted Reno had ever glimpsed the man that she knew her father to be. She felt his surprise, sensed his strong disapproval.
Reno stared down into Caitlin’s flushed, stricken face. She was shaking, but she held herself as stiffly as a fence post. Moments flew by in the silent elevator as he watched her struggle with her pain.
Though his heart was hard toward her and he believed she’d often deserved Jess’s harsh treatment, it gave him no pleasure to witness her anguish. He hadn’t approved of Jess’s insistence on a blood test. On the other hand, Jess hadn’t been completely rational the past couple of weeks. It was unfortunate that his last words to his daughter had been cruel.
The feel of her soft body trapped between his and the corner began to work on him. Their position—they were pressed together from waist to knee—was dangerously sexual.
Slowly he eased away from her until they were no longer touching. He still held her wrists, but the heat between them was scorching. He felt the stiffness seep from her body. She stared hard at his shirtfront, collecting herself. He sensed her strong will, her absolute determination to get control of herself. He couldn’t help that he found a spark of admiration for that. The Caitlin Bodine of the past couldn’t have summoned this control.
Satisfied with her progress, he released her wrists by slow degrees. The moment he was no longer touching her, she slipped from the corner. He pressed a button on the keypad and the elevator continued downward.
Caitlin didn’t look directly at him again. She didn’t speak to him either. The young woman who rode beside him in his truck to the motel was focused deeply inward, oblivious to everything outside her own wordless misery.
For the first time in five years, Caitlin awoke in her bedroom at the Broken B. Normally she was an early riser, but she glanced toward the alarm clock, surprised to see that it was almost 7:00 a.m.
Reno had brought her to the ranch. She’d been a zombie the night before. She dimly recalled watching him pack her things while she sat on the motel bed.
She hadn’t protested when he’d taken over, she’d not had the will. As she lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling, she was amazed that he’d taken care of her. It was absolutely stunning that he’d brought her to the Broken B when he hated her so.
Perhaps it proved that Reno wasn’t as heartless as her father after all. Perhaps he didn’t hate her as intensely as she’d thought.
The moment the notion entered her mind, she shoved it away. Reno blamed her for his brother’s death. How could he not hate her? In light of how he felt, the mystery of why he’d taken such good care of her and brought her home was baffling.
It was too much to sort out. She got up and dressed, then went downstairs. The realization that she was finally home put tremendous pressure on her battered emotions. She almost retreated to her room before she reminded herself that she had to face everything eventually.
Quietly, she wandered through the massive ranch house. She knew every inch of it, and it was a comfort to see that nothing much had changed. Her father had spent most of his waking hours out-of-doors, so she associated the house more with her memories of her mother than with him. Reno’s mother had changed almost nothing.
Now that Jess was dead, she thought about her mother’s pictures. Had Jess destroyed them, or merely packed them away someplace? She didn’t think he’d given them to her grandmother, since she’d never mentioned them. The idea that they might still be in the house somewhere, hidden, made her determined to find them.
She walked into the back hall on her way to the kitchen for breakfast when Reno came down the hall from the other end and met her there.
His eyes were intent on her face, searching, assessing. “You look better this morning.”
She stiffened as his blue gaze ran down her slender body. She saw the male interest in the look and felt faintly threatened. Once, she’d have given anything to attract Reno’s interest. Now it made her uneasy. Anger gleamed in his gaze. Clearly, his attraction to her infuriated him. She didn’t speak.
“Mary’s waitin’ breakfast.”
The news surprised her. “Mary? Isn’t Corrie around anymore?”
“Corrie retired last year. Hannah, too, the year before that,” he told her.
Corrie and Hannah had been the cook and housekeeper since just after her mother’s death. A part of her was relieved. Hannah had never seemed to approve of her. Both women had been charmed by Beau, though they hadn’t cared much for his mother. In the two weeks after Beau’s death before Caitlin had been banished, they’d been distant with her. She’d always believed they’d blamed her for Beau’s death. Like everyone else.
Reno waited for her to step forward and precede him to the kitchen.
Mary was a warm, friendly woman, who seemed pleased to be introduced to Caitlin. She offered her condolences to them both. Caitlin was less tense then, but she was surprised when Reno joined her at the kitchen table for breakfast.
When Mary set two heaped plates of food before them, the appetite Caitlin was certain she couldn’t muster began to stir.
She picked up her fork and had a bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs. When Mary left the kitchen, she glanced Reno’s way and caught him staring at her. She read the traces of hostility in his gaze. He probably hated sitting across the table from her. She was suddenly so self-conscious that the bite of food stuck in her throat. His blue gaze dropped to watch her swallow, then went dark.
Caitlin rested her fork on her plate, her meager appetite fleeing beneath his scrutiny.
“When’s the funeral?” Her soft question distracted him and he focused on his own meal.
“Day after tomorrow.”
Neither of them spoke again while they ate. Caitlin eventually relaxed enough to force down a few more bites of food. Reno finished and leaned back with what was left of his coffee.
“I’d like to see the ranch.” Her statement brought his gaze back to hers. She endured a long burning look. She could tell the instant her request reminded him of Beau’s death. His eyes darkened again and went hard.
“You’ve got funeral arrangements to make.”
The blunt reminder made her uncomfortable. “You’ve been closer to him than anyone,” she said quietly. “I’m sure he’d prefer that you handled things.”
“You’re his daughter.”
Caitlin gripped her coffee cup. She dared to meet his gaze squarely. “You and Beau were the sons he always wanted, but was cheated of. Until he married your mother.”
The blue fire in his eyes was pure hatred.
“Don’t speak Beau’s name to me.”
The low rumble of his voice hit her chest like a sledgehammer. The pain was so intense that she had to focus on breathing slowly in, then out, to relieve it.
“Why did you bring me home?” The words came out in a whisper.
He stared over at her, his enmity shining out like a laser. “Maybe to prove that you and I can’t live here, even if you can inherit.”
“So you’re after your pound of flesh,” she stated dully.
“It’ll take more than a pound to even the score.”
He didn’t bother now to conceal his hatred for her. She was shaking all over and held herself stiffly to hide it. The impulse to defend herself made her incautious.
“You never wanted to hear what happened.”
“I’m not much for lies.”
The accusation was so insulting—Caitlin never lied—that her temper shot skyward. Her low “Go to hell, Reno,” was heartfelt.
His quiet “Been there,” pinned the blame squarely on her. She rallied to deflect it.
“So have I.”
The air thundered with hate. The injustice of it left her raw inside. The wall of rage between them was miles high and so wide that nothing would ever overcome it. The thought was overwhelming. The knowledge that there was nothing she could do to change things sent her spirits into a downward slide.
She tossed her napkin to the table and rose. “Make the funeral arrangements. I’m going for a ride.”
She didn’t look directly at Reno, but she felt his gaze cut at her. Hating her.
She went to her room briefly for her hat, then escaped the house through the front door to avoid coming face-to-face with Reno.
As she walked through the yard toward the corrals and barns, she noticed that most things looked just the same. She entered the stable and immediately recognized a couple of the horses. She didn’t relish meeting any of the men. The three cowboys who had testified on her behalf at the inquest were nowhere to be seen.
On the other hand, all three were older men. The oldest, Lucky Reed, the cowboy who’d been her champion, had probably retired by now. She finished her brief inspection of the horses still at the stable, then selected one.
Her father’s saddle was still in the tack room. She got it and a bridle, then carried them to the horse she’d chosen.
The black gelding had been her father’s favorite. He’d been a lively four-year-old five years ago. Now he seemed calmer, more like the competent working horse her father would have expected.
Caitlin led him out of the stall, gave him a quick grooming, then saddled him. Excitement made her hurry. Memories of the land she’d missed so much—and her private place—pulled at her. The only real peace she’d known growing up had been on the land. The only true comfort she’d had was the comfort of her private place.
She belonged to the land. She’d not had a secure place in her family, but she’d had a place on the land. The wildness of it connected with something wild in her. She relished the seasons, was sensitive to their cycles. She knew her place out there, felt herself fit into the universe somehow. Though she was a mere speck on the landscape, she was part of it.
As she rode out of the stable and past the outbuildings and corrals, something shifted inside her, and she felt herself slip naturally into the panorama of range land before her.
The black felt solid beneath her and he obeyed her slightest signal. His well-trained response heightened her sense of control, of dominance. She might never handle her personal life or the tricky relationships she was bound to with any real skill or success, but she had an affinity for animals, and a natural competence with them that made her feel settled and sure of herself.
She rode on for nearly an hour before she angled in a new direction. She couldn’t bear to go near the canyon where Beau had died, so she’d altered her path to avoid it. She ended up north of the old cabin and changed direction again to ride to it.
Caitlin thought of it as a cabin, but it was the adobe ruin of a turn-of-the-century homestead. Most of the old roof had rotted and fallen in, or had been blown away. Years ago, she’d hauled in enough lumber to construct a crude roof near the chimney. The two layers of wood with a layer of tarp in between had provided shade from the sun and protection enough from the rain. The adobe was crumbled and weathered down, but the irregular walls were still high enough to count as shelter from the wind.
The moment she saw it, she felt relief. It still looked the same as she remembered. When she reached the old structure, she dismounted, loosening the saddle cinch before she led the black to the east side of the ruin.
She inspected the small lean-to, then led the horse in out of the hot sun and removed his saddle. When she came out, she walked to the front of the cabin to the wide space where the door had once been and stepped inside.
The sparrows that had built a nest under the crude roof burst out and shot through the open space overhead into the sky. If any other animals had moved in, they’d already fled. Caitlin made a cursory check for snakes, then carefully checked the old fireplace chimney.
Because she hadn’t been there to light a fire in the past five years, at least one family of birds was nesting in the old adobe. She heard their flutters and chirps, but didn’t disturb them. She walked around the limited confines, then took up a place at the deep dip in the wall where a window had once been.
The magic of the place began to ease over her. Thoughts about her father, Reno and Beau began to crowd in, but they seemed manageable here.
Her father’s demand for a blood test explained his treatment of her over the years. Jess Bodine had been uncompromising on the subject of loyalty and fidelity—to him. He’d proved at the inquest how little loyalty he’d felt toward his daughter. Though Caitlin had been too young to know about such things when her mother was alive, it wouldn’t surprise her to discover that her father was the one who’d been unfaithful.
Had her mother been unfaithful? A man as proud as her father couldn’t have tolerated even the hint that his wife had cheated on him. Clearly, he’d never been able to separate his feelings for his daughter from his suspicion that she might not be his.
The fact that he’d treated her so poorly was inexcusable. A child—even if it had been her—shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of a man’s anger toward his wife.
Eventually, her thoughts turned to Beau. Beau had been a charmer and a daredevil. He’d also possessed a wide streak of cruelty that he’d often displayed with animals and with her. But he’d also been clever enough to conceal the cruel things he’d done from Jess and from Reno.
She doubted Reno had ever known about his brother’s dark side. Beau had idolized his older brother and had behaved well around Reno to impress him. Privately, Beau had reveled in the fact that his mother favored him over her older son. Sheila Duvall Bodine had a penchant for spoiling her youngest, giving him anything he wanted, laughing over his pranks and laying into anyone who might take exception to anything her favorite said or did.
Caitlin had never been impressed by Beau’s charm or his handsome looks. When he managed to skillfully play to her father’s desire for a son and completely dominated Jess’s time and attention, she’d hated Beau for upstaging her. Her father finally had the male child he’d resented not having, and he’d completely lost interest in his daughter.