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Helplessly she had looked across the desk at the lawyer. ‘I don’t understand... It seems impossible...’
‘It’s the way it is, Miss Mullins. I’m sorry.’
‘I always thought we were secure. We lived well. There was money for parties and travelling and for college.’
‘There was money once,’ the lawyer agreed, ‘but much of it was used for the wrong purposes. There was also a lot of debt.’
‘What are you saying, Mr. Barclay? I need the truth.’
‘Your parents were living way beyond their means. I often warned your father to be more careful, but he kept insisting that things were fine. The mortgage was never meant to be more than short-term assistance, he was certain things would come right.’
But her father had been killed when he had skidded off the road on his way back to the ranch one stormy night. His truck had been found in a ditch. Witnesses said the vehicle seemed to veer suddenly on a slippery section of the road, before rolling over onto its side. Kaitlin had pretended to accept the explanation, but privately she had wondered if grief over her mother’s death had made her father careless. He had had no time to put his affairs in order.
Kaitlin looked at Flynn, shivering when she saw the enigmatic expression in his eyes, the implacability in the firm jaw. ‘You’re saying that Bill was eager to rid himself of the mortgage.’
‘Correct.’
‘That’s when you appeared on the scene. Flynn Henderson to the rescue.’
Flynn shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by her sarcasm.
‘Some coincidence that you just happened to come along at the right time,’ Kaitlin went on grimly. ‘Why don’t I think that’s the way it was?’
‘Because you’re too intelligent to believe it.’
He grinned at her, a grin that warmed his eyes and deepened the lines around them. If only, Kaitlin thought, he didn’t have the ability to send her heart somersaulting in her chest.
‘Then it wasn’t coincidence.’
‘Of course not. I’ve kept my eyes on the ranch ever since I left. I knew about the mortgage.’
‘How did you know?’
‘Wasn’t difficult, Kaitlin. A person can make a point of knowing certain things. Besides, word gets around. When I thought Bill Seally was getting nervous I went to talk to him. To his credit, I had to speak to him several times before he made his decision.’
Despite the heat of the day, Kaitlin was feeling colder by the minute. ‘Five years, and all that time you were just biding your time to take over here.’
That grin again. ‘Five years ago all I had was a burning ambition. I knew what I wanted, but I couldn’t afford to pay for a corner of one barn let alone the whole ranch.’
That was one thing that puzzled her: how on earth had Flynn managed to acquire what must surely be a small fortune?
Before she could ask the question, he said, ‘Do you remember what I told you the last time we were together?’
‘In the bar? You were with that red-haired woman. I think her name was Marietta.’
‘So you remember that.’ The eyes that held hers were unreadable.
‘Sure, why not?’ She strove to make her tone as casual and matter-of-fact as she could. Flynn did not have to know about the pain that knifed her at the very mention of the other woman’s name.
‘I think it’s interesting that you would remember Marietta in such detail.’ Still he held her gaze. ‘But I wasn’t referring to her. Kaitlin, do you remember what I said?’
‘Why don’t you jog my memory?’
‘I promised you I’d be back for the ranch five years later. Five years to the day. I kept my promise, Kaitlin. Looking at your face, I know you never thought I would.’
Kaitlin. felt the colour drain from her cheeks as she stared at the tall cowboy.
‘So that’s why you’re here,’ she said, when she could speak.
‘Right.’
‘You could have written. Or phoned.’
‘I could have, I guess, but I decided to break it to you in person.’
‘Without a thought to my feelings,’ she accused unsteadily.
Flynn didn’t answer, but there was an odd expression in the eyes that watched her.
Over the emotions that raged inside her, Kaitlin said, ‘You knew I’d be shocked, but you wanted to see my face when you told me. What are you, Flynn—some kind of sadist?’
Flynn only shrugged.
Kaitlin’s hands curled tightly against her sides. ‘Anyway, now you’ve told me, you can go.’
‘We have to talk, Kaitlin.’
‘Not today, Flynn. Definitely not today. You have to give me time to think.’
For a long moment he looked down at her. Then, to her relief, he picked up his Stetson.
At the door of the house he turned. ‘I’ll be back.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘HI, COWGIRL.’
Paintbrush in hand, the jeans-clad figure turned from the fence of the corral. ‘Hi, yourself, cowboy.’
A week had passed since the last time he had seen her. ‘You look busy, Kaitlin.’
Beneath the broad-brimmed Stetson, her eyes were intensely green, almost jade. ‘You could say that. I didn’t hear the 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.’
