To Wear His Ring: Circle of Gold / Trophy Wives / Dakota Bride. Wendy Warren
much lately. The man, Sims, had threatened vengeance. Apparently he was killing cattle as well as cutting fences to let them escape. She pictured Gil at the end of a gun and she felt sick all over.
“I’ll make sure everyone’s been alerted and prepared for danger,” John agreed. “But you stay out of it. You’re the one person around here that Sims would enjoy shooting.”
“He’d be lucky to get off a shot,” Gil replied imperturbably. He finished his meal and wiped his mouth. “I’ve got to get back out there. We haven’t finished stringing wire, and it’s not long until dark.”
“Okay. I’ll phone the vet about those carcasses we found. I want him to look for bullet wounds.”
“Good idea.”
Gil finished the last sip of his coffee in a grim silence that seemed to spread to the rest of the family. The girls, sensing hidden anger in the adults around them, excused themselves and went upstairs to play in their room while Mrs. Charters cleaned away the dishes. John went to make a phone call.
Gil got to his feet without looking at Kasie and started toward the front door. Kasie caught up with him on the porch. It was almost dark. The sky was fiery red and pink and yellow where the sun was setting.
“Thank you,” she blurted out.
He stopped and turned. “For what?”
His hat was pulled low over his eyes, and she couldn’t see the expression in them, but she was pretty sure that he was scowling.
She went closer to him, stopping half an arm’s length away. “For the roses,” she said hesitantly. “They’re beautiful.”
He didn’t move. He just stood there, somber, quiet. “How do you know they were meant for you?” he drawled. “And how do you know I brought them?”
She flushed scarlet. She didn’t know for sure, but she’d assumed.
He averted his eyes, muttering under his breath. “You’re welcome,” he said tersely.
“That man, Sims,” she continued, worried. “The day you fired him, John said that he had a mean temper and that he carried a loaded rifle everywhere with him. You…you be careful, okay?”
She heard the soft expulsion of breath. He moved a step closer, his lean hands lifting her oval face to his. She could see the soft glitter of his blue eyes in the faint light from the windows.
“What do you care if I get myself shot?” he asked huskily. “I’m the one who sent you packing without even giving you the chance to explain what happened in Nassau.”
“Pauline didn’t like me,” she said. “And you trusted her. I was just a stranger.”
“Not anymore, Kasie,” he said gruffly.
“I mean, you didn’t know anything about me,” she persisted. She searched his eyes, feeling jolts of electricity flow into her at the exquisite contact. “I was upset and I behaved badly when you came to Mama Luke’s. But deep inside, I didn’t blame you for not trusting me.”
His lean hands tightened on her face. “I’ve done nothing but torment you since the first day you came here,” he bit off. “I didn’t want you in my life, Kasie,” he whispered as he bent toward her. “I still don’t. But a man can only stand so much…!”
His mouth caught hers hungrily. His arms swallowed her up against him, so that not an inch of space separated them. For long, achingly sweet seconds, they clung to each other in the soft darkness.
He drew away from her finally and stood just looking at her in a tense, hot silence. His hands were firm around her arms, and she swayed toward him helplessly.
She felt her knees go shaky, as if they had jelly in them instead of bone and cartilage. “Look, I’m very old-fashioned,” she began in a choked tone.
“I almost never make love to women on the floor of the front porch.”
She stared at him dimly, only slowly becoming aware that he was smiling and the words were both affectionate and teasing.
A tiny laugh burst from her swollen lips, although the kiss had rattled her.
“That’s better,” he said. His eyes narrowed. “How do you feel about my brother?”
Her mind refused to function. “How do I what?”
“Feel about John,” he persisted coolly. “When I asked you why you wanted this job, you said it was because John was a dish. I know you had a crush on him. How do you feel now?”
She was at a loss to know what to say. “I like…him,” she blurted out. “He’s been kind to me.”
“Kinder than I have, for damned sure,” he agreed at once. “And he believed you were innocent when I didn’t.”
She frowned. “You explained why.”
His hands tightened on her arms and his lips flattened. “He’s younger than I am, single and rich and easygoing,” he said harshly. “Maybe he’d be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you. I’ve always wanted a big, strong man to plan my future for me.”
He let her go abruptly, angry. “You said it yourself. I’m a generation older than you with a ready-made family.”
She couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying. Her mind was spinning as she looked up at him.
“Maybe you’re what he needs, too,” he added coldly. “Someone young and optimistic and intelligent.”
“Are you going to buy the ring, too?”
He turned away. “That wasn’t funny.”
“I don’t want to marry your brother. Thanks, anyway.”
He kept walking.
She ran after him. “That man Sims has got a gun,” she called. “Don’t you dare go out there and get shot!”
He paused on the top step and looked back at her as if he had doubts about her sanity. “John’s going out with me as soon as he finishes his phone calls.”
“Great!” she exclaimed angrily. “I can worry about both of you all night!”
“Worry about my daughters,” he told her bluntly. “That’s your only responsibility here. You work for me, remember?”
“I remember,” she replied irritably. “Do you?”
“Stay in the house with the girls until I tell you otherwise. I don’t want any of you on the porch or in the yard until we settle this, one way or another.”
He did think there was danger. She heard it in every word. “I won’t let anything happen to Bess and Jenny. I promise.”
He glared at her. “Can you shoot?”
She shook her head. “But I know how to dial 911.”
“Okay. Keep one of the wireless phones handy, just in case.”
She moved toward him another step, wrapping her arms tight around her body. “Have you got a cell phone?”
He indicated the case on his belt. That was when she noticed an old Colt .45 strapped to his other hip, under the denim shirt he was wearing open over his black T-shirt.
Her breath caught. Until that minute, when she saw the gun, it was a possibility. But guns were violent, chaotic, frightening. She bit her lower lip worriedly.
“I’ll be late. Make sure you lock the doors before you go upstairs. John and I have keys.”
“I will,” she promised. “You be careful.”
He ignored the quiet command. He took one long, last look at her and went on down