A horrible sinking feeling came into Zach's belly. "Kate, I didn't call you a whore."
"The same as," she cried. "Do you think it was easy for me to come in here? You talk about wrestling with demons! I was married to one. Unlike you, he didn't give warnings so I had a chance to get away from him. Do you think I didn't remember the feel of his fist when you were threatening to hurt me? Do you really believe I could stay near you, trusting in you, if I didn't love you?"
"Jesus," he whispered raggedly. "Katie, I—"
"Kate!" she shrieked. "I'm not a child."
"I never thought you were."
"Then let me walk out of here. That's my
choice!"
Reluctantly, Zach did as she asked. Taken by surprise, she staggered slightly, then got her balance. The moment she did, she made a beeline for the doors. He watched her, feeling as though his heart was in his boots.
"If you really love me, you won't turn your back on this," he called. "I may be a stupid bastard, but my heart was in the right place. If I drew the wrong conclusions, it was your doing as much as mine! We should talk it out!"
She reached the doors and disappeared into the moonlit darkness beyond. The sound of Zach's voice resounded in his ears and died away to nothing. He stared at the ground, spotted the length of harness leather that Kate must have tripped on, and gave it a vicious kick.
"And that's another thing!"
He glanced up to see her silhouetted in the doorway again. "What's that?" he asked softly.
"Your scars! Understand that this has nothing to do with them. Don't add to all the wrong conclusions you've drawn by thinking I find you ugly, because I don't!"
He watched her whirl away again, but this time, he did so with a slight smile. "If you don't, get your butt back in here and prove it!"
As he hoped, she reappeared in the doorway. Kate, in a temper. The fact that she wasn't afraid to lace him up one side and down the other told him more than she could know.
"Stay here in the barn all night. It's where jackasses belong. Drown yourself in bourbon and play five-fingered stud! It's what you deserve."
He couldn't argue with that. "I love you, Katie girl."
She started to walk away, then turned back, hugging her waist. "You're an idiot!"
He took a cautious step toward her. "I'm beginning to realize that. Can you forgive me?"
"It took all my courage to come into this stupid barn!"
He took one more step. "And I mistook your reasons. I'm sorry."
"How could you think I'd go to the sheriff if I didn't know you'd take care of Miranda, no matter what?
Bargaining with my body?" Her voice rose to a squeak. "I'm not a coquette! I don't even know how to begin!"
"You've got this fish hooked." He moved a little closer. "You going to throw me back?"
He heard a sob catch in her throat, saw her turn her face to one side. His heart definitely wasn't in his boots. The pain in his chest testified to that. "Katie, I said some pretty awful things."
"Yes," she agreed in a thin voice.
Zach stopped some three feet from her, then folded his arms and braced his feet wide apart. "Can you forgive me?"
"You made me feel dirty." Her voice broke, and she cupped a hand over her eyes. "I kn-knew you'd seen me."
Her breath snagged, and she gulped. "That time with Ryan. I knew you had. But I never d-dreamed you thought of me as a whore for it."
With a low curse, Zach closed the distance between them and gathered her into his arms. To his great relief, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as though she were about to plunge off an embankment and he was her only anchor. The force of the sobs that tore from her frightened him. It sounded as though they were ripping right through bone and muscle. Tears filled his own eyes.
"Honey, I never meant for you to think that. Dirty? God in heaven, you're the sweetest thing in my life." He ran his fingers into her hair, heedless of her braided coronet. "Listen to me. Can you stop crying and listen?"
She gulped again and held her breath.
"Ever since I saw what you were doing that day with Ryan, I've admired you."
She made a sound of incredulity and tried to pull away.
"Just hear me out," he said hoarsely. "I admire you for it because there's no sacrifice so great that you won't make it for your child. Not every mother loves that selflessly. You've put everything you are on the line, heart, soul, body. Everything for her, nothing for you. How could I not admire you for that?"
"But I didn't fight him."
"To protect Miranda," he whispered. "I knew that then, I know it now. I've never thought less of you for it."
"But you said—"
He pressed her face against his shoulder. "I said what I did because I was afraid you were doing the same thing with me, sacrificing yourself to protect her. And I was sorely tempted to take you under those terms or force you if I had to, rather than risk losing you. When I threw it up to you, I was angry and scared to death of what I was feeling. Can you understand that? I never set out to hurt you. If I had wanted to do that, I wouldn't have walked away in the first place."
She pressed closer and continued to weep, her sobs less forceful. Zach just held her and let her cry, knowing somehow that her pain stemmed from far more than just tonight. Tears too long in coming. Tears she had never been able to shed because she'd had to be strong for her child.
As she cried, he felt a change come over her. The stiffness eased from her shoulders. Her spine gave under the force of his arm. She moved her face from the hollow of his shoulder and went up on her tiptoes to press her nose and mouth against the curve of his neck.
From Kate to Katie… He knew it was fanciful, but that was how he interpreted the difference. Kate Blakely, who had weathered the storms of hell, dissolved with those tears and seemed to melt into him. The enchanting creature who remained behind in the safe harbor of his embrace was Katie McGovern, more girl than woman, her life experience nil, her surrender to him as shy as a virgin's, her trust so unreserved it humbled him.
Katie… He buried his face against her hair and wept with her; for her, unashamed because he held her so close there was no room for it. Tears of sorrow for all she had suffered. Tears of relief because she had forgiven him.
Tears of joy because he held his world in his arms.
When at last they had both cried themselves dry, they leaned together like two uprooted trees that had butted up against each other during a storm, each supported by the other, doomed to fall if they drifted apart. Zach felt exhausted, and he could tell by the limpness of her body that she was as drained.
"I love you, Zachariah," she finally whispered.
Zach found the frame of the door and leaned their combined weight against it. He gazed down at her pale, upturned face. "You look like you ran into a hive of bees."
She touched a puffy eyelid and sniffed. "Do I look that bad?"
"You look fine," he whispered. "And I love you, too. Every sweet inch, including your red nose. Want my handkerchief?"
She sniffed and gave him a damp smile. "I used your shirt."
He chuckled at that. "You wash it, I reckon you can soil it." Freeing one arm, he tried to smooth her braid. "I messed you up good. You've got a rooster comb sticking up."
She wrinkled her nose, putting him in mind of Mandy. "You have a way with words, Mr. McGovern. I feel downright homely, thank you very much."
He splayed a hand over her narrow back. "I'd like to make you feel beautiful," he told her huskily. "I think I can if you'll allow me the privilege."
He saw her pulse quicken in the hollow of her throat, but she remained relaxed in his arms, which he took as a good sign.
"It's high time, I reckon," was her response.
He bit back a grin. "Such enthusiasm."
"I'm not unwilling," she clarified.
"But not exactly a filly lunging at the gate?"
She wrinkled her nose again. "No, not exactly. That day when I was doing the dishes was nice. When I get nerved up thinking about it, I remember that and tell myself it won't be so bad."
"The dishes?" His puzzled frown gave way to a mischievous grin. "Ah, the vocabulary lesson." He pressed his hand more firmly against her back, his grin giving way to a tender smile. "You said you trust me. If you do, believe me when I say there's nothing to get nerved up about."
"I believe you. I think."
He gave a startled laugh. "You think?"
"It's just that I have a hunch there may be far more involved than what we did that day."
"True. All nice, as you put it. If you'll trust me to show you, I'll prove it."
"I—I trust you."
"Well, then?"
She peered past his shoulder into the barn. "Now that I think on it, the barn doesn't seem like an ideal spot."
He drew her into a walk. "You can rest easy on that score. I'm not about to throw you down in a goddamned horse stall when there's a perfectly good bed in the house."
"We have company in our bed, if you'll recall."
"Not in the sickroom, and there's a lock on the door."
Kate conceded the point with a relieved sigh. "Let's go inside, then. The stall would be smelly."
"Not to mention so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face."
She stiffened. "You don't mean to light the lamp, do you?"
"No, hm?"
"No. I'd rather not."
"I'll settle for moonlight coming through the window."
Kate fixed her gaze on the house, acutely aware of how quickly his long stride was eating up the distance. Once again calling to mind the day he had come up behind her while she was doing dishes, she had cause to wonder just what making love with him might entail.
"Zachariah?" She moistened her lips. "Last time—when we almost—well, you know—on our wedding night?"
He turned to regard her, one eyebrow arched expectantly.
She bent her head. "I, um, I got the distinct impression that you meant to completely undress that night." She looked back up at him. "Was that your intention?"
His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he spoke. "I had that in mind, yes."
"Is—is that how you always go about things? On the bed, with no clothes on?"
His mouth twitched at the corners. "Kate, until recently, I've been a bachelor, so I don't
always
do anything. But when I get around to it, yeah, I take off my clothes, and I prefer a bed."
"It seems rather—peculiar, if you don't mind my saying so."
"I'll bear that in mind," he said with a low laugh.
"I'm not at all sure how it can be accomplished on a bed with any hint of decorum."
"Decorum?" he repeated.
"That means dignified propriety of behavior."
His breath snagged on another laugh. "I know what it means. I don't think my ignorance is the problem here."
"Meaning mine is?"
He bent his head to kiss the tip of her nose. "Honey, trust me, okay? I'll be as polite as I can possibly be, and I'll leave your dignity completely intact."
Kate relaxed a bit. "I'm relieved to hear that. Not that I'm the least reluctant, you understand. Just a bit anxious."
"Let me be the one to do the worrying, okay?"
"Okay." As they drew near the porch, Kate slowed her footsteps again and hung back. "Just one request."
Not removing his arm from her waist, he swung around to regard her with a twinkling gaze. "What's that?"
"About the undressing part. Since this is our very first night, are you absolutely bent on that?"
There was a smile in his voice when he replied. "If the thought unsettles you so much, I won't completely undress."
Because of the mischievous expression on his face, she wasn't quite sure she believed him. "You won't?"
"Nope." Before she realized what he meant to do, he bent, caught her behind the knees, and swept her up into his arms. Taking the steps two at a time, he said, "I'll leave my socks on."
M
uch to Kate's amazement and dismay, Zachariah managed to open and close both the front and sickroom doors without releasing his hold on her. By the time she found herself closeted with him in the shadowy bedroom, she felt rather like a piece of flotsam that had been carried forth on a wave. She could feel his urgency in the rigidity of his body, hear it in the quickened pace of his heartbeat and breathing. Consummating their marriage was clearly something that he had been anticipating, and now that the moment was at hand, he obviously wasn't going to waste time in getting the deed accomplished.
Though he bent at the knees and took great care when he finally set her back on her feet, Kate couldn't help but feel apprehensive. When she heard the lock of the door click, her nerves leaped. She pressed her palms against her waist and threw a glance at the bed. When he stepped to the window to open the curtains on the moonlight, she rebuttoned her bodice.