“Morning,” he muttered. Crossing to the coffeepot, he poured himself a cup of the brew, then carried it to his regular seat at the table, across from Caitlan. Settling himself on the bench, he glanced around. “Where’s Paula?”
“In the pantry,” Caitlan replied, concentrating on the task of slathering strawberry jam on her toast.
“Breakfast will be on the table in a sec,” Paula called. The sound of canned goods being shuffled from the shelves drifted out of the walk-in pantry. “Frank and Kirk are on their way up.”
“That’s fine.” Taking a long swallow of coffee, J.T. studied Caitlan. She wouldn’t look at him, acted as though he wasn’t there. Her indifference annoyed him because he was all too aware of her.
She stood and went to refill her mug with coffee, offering him an unobstructed head-to-toe view. He recognized the thigh-length beige cable-knit sweater she wore over her jeans as Debbie’s, and was grateful for the concealing and bulky top. He knew she had curves, had felt every one of them last night, and wanted no visual reminder of how lush her body really was.
She returned, and he took another drink of his coffee, parading his thoughts in a different direction. “What are you doing up so early?”
Grabbing the sugar container, she poured a long stream into her coffee, added a splash of cream, and stirred. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Join the club.” He watched her take a bite of her toast and lick a smudge of jam from her thumb, unaffected by his dry comment.
Dammit, look up at me!
After a reassuring glance to confirm that Paula was still busy in the pantry, he said in a low voice only Caitlan could hear, “
I
couldn’t sleep probably because I’m not in the habit of receiving late-night visitors.”
Her gaze flew to his, the violet depths smoky with awareness. He smiled, a measure of wicked satisfaction rushing through him at the telltale flush sweeping across her cheeks. He waited in anticipation for her rebuttal, but before she could reply they were interrupted.
“Don’t mind J.T.,” Paula said, bustling back into the kitchen, her arms full holding a container of dried noodles and a sack of potatoes. “A cup of strong coffee usually takes the grizzly out of him. Our J.T. isn’t much of a morning person.” She cast him a fond smile over her shoulder before unloading her staples onto the counter.
No, he wasn’t much of a morning person, J.T. thought, staring at Caitlan’s amused expression. Especially since wakening with an arousal so painfully hard it had taken a cold shower in order for him to zip up his jeans. And it was
her
fault. Even after she’d left his bed last night the scent and warmth of her lingered, haunting him and his dreams.
Frank and Kirk ambled in the back door, hanging their hats and coats on the rack situated there. Their discussion about the day’s plans abruptly ended when they saw Caitlan sitting at the table.
“Morning,” they greeted at the same time, both wearing congenial grins.
“Good morning,” Caitlan replied with a bright smile.
J.T. gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment, refusing to wish them a good morning when his was as lousy as it got.
“Morning,” Paula said, and began scrambling the eggs sitting in the frying pan, as was her regular routine once all her “boys” arrived.
“You’re up mighty early, Ms. Daniels,” Frank commented, taking a seat next to J.T.
Kirk poured two cups of coffee and carried them back to the table. Setting a mug before Frank, he lowered himself beside Caitlan. “Only fools like us get up this early,” he added to Frank’s observation, then slanted J.T. a goading look from across the expanse of wood. “You plan on making her work the range, or what, J.T.?”
Only from his brother-in-law would J.T. take such blatant ribbing. “No, and I don’t want Caitlan to leave the general area without someone with her. Considering her bad sense of direction, I don’t want to chance her getting lost.”
Caitlan gathered up her dishes and stood. “You won’t have to worry about entertaining me.” A serious expression etched her features, but J.T. saw the sassy twinkle in her eyes as she repeated the order he’d given her last night in his office. “I’ll do my best to stay out of everyone’s way.”
He watched her take her dishes to the sink, expecting her to leave the kitchen on that parting remark. To his surprise, she picked up a dish of bacon and a stack of clean plates and brought them to the table.
“Honey,” Paula said, a little flustered with Caitlan’s assistance. “You’re a guest here. You don’t have to do that.” She scooped the fluffy scrambled eggs into a bowl.
“It’s not a problem.” Caitlan grabbed the entree before Paula could put the skillet back down and delivered the dish and the platter of pancakes to the hungry men. “Four hands are better than two. Besides, I’ve got nothing but time to kill. The least I can do for everyone’s generosity is help out around here.”
J.T. forked a couple of pancakes onto his plate, wondering how long Caitlan’s enthusiasm would last. Today a novelty, tomorrow a chore, he thought in private, wry amusement. As soon as those soft hands of hers became chapped, dry, and sore, he was sure she’d be singing a different tune.
Turning his attention away from Caitlan, he glanced at Frank. “Do you have all the hands lined out for today?”
Frank nodded and took a gulp of coffee to wash down a bite of scrambled egg. “Gotta get that fence on the east end repaired, and I’ve got a group rounding up the cattle in the north pasture.”
“Good.” J.T. bit off a chunk of bacon and chewed. “If you don’t need the extra body, I need to spend the day in the office.” Out of the corner of his eye J.T. saw Caitlan look his way. He glanced at her just as she smiled and cast a long look upward. He frowned, wondering what she found so fascinating about the kitchen ceiling.
“I think we can manage without you today, boss,” Kirk cut in while Frank nodded his agreement, since his mouth was full. “Wouldn’t hurt us any if you took it easy for a few days, considering your accident.”
“I’m fine,” J.T. insisted, refusing to admit even to himself that he was exhausted and could use a few days to recuperate. Sticking around the house doing paperwork would have to do as far as rest and relaxation was concerned. “With Graham out because of his slipped disc, our feed order is falling short. I need to take inventory of our supplies and get everything back up to date again.
“Not a problem, boss.” Frank wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it on his empty plate. “We’ve got the work covered.”
“Great!” With that settled, J.T. thanked Paula for breakfast and went to his office to immerse himself in bookkeeping and order-filling for the day.
* * *
“Caitlan, do you want to see the new kittens we have in the barn?” Laura asked, shoveling a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into her mouth.
At the kitchen sink, Caitlan glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Laura’s excitement. “I’d love to. Just let me finish peeling this last potato for Paula.” Finishing the task quickly and with ease, she placed the skinned potato with the others on a paper napkin.
Paula filled a huge pot with water to boil the potatoes. “The bus is going to be here in thirty minutes, Laura,” she reminded her.
“Do I have to go to school today?” Laura complained, finishing off her bowl of cereal. She brought her empty juice glass and dishes to the sink. “Can’t I stay home and show Caitlan around?”
Paula sent her a gently reproving look. “I don’t think your father would be too pleased if you did that.”
Laura let out a long sigh. “Why do I have to go to school while everyone else gets to stay home and have all the fun?” she grumbled.
Caitlan and Paula exchanged amused glances.
“I promise not to have any fun while you’re at school,” Caitlan vowed in a serious tone, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Besides, today’s Friday and you’ll have all weekend to spend with me. We’ll have all kinds of fun together. I promise.”
Laura brightened marginally. “Sundays we usually go to Aunt Debbie’s for dinner. Will you come with us?”
If the invitation had been issued by J.T., Caitlan would have accepted without hesitation. She needed to stay close to him, but how would he feel about her intruding on something as personal as a Sunday supper ritual? “I don’t know—”
“Of course she’ll go, Laura,” Paula interrupted, lighting the burner beneath the pot of potatoes. “Your father wouldn’t leave Caitlan all alone.”
Don’t bet on it, Caitlan thought.
“Good.” Laura hooked her arm through Caitlan’s, beaming a grin up at her. “Come on. Let’s go see the kittens.”
“I’ll be back to help with those cherry tarts, Paula,” Caitlan called as Laura tugged her out of the kitchen. “Don’t start without me!”
Instead of heading for the front door, Laura made a detour down the hall toward J.T.’s office. Realizing her intent, Caitlan pulled back and stopped just as Laura grabbed the doorknob. “What are you doing?”
Laura tilted her head to the side, grinning. “I just want to say good morning to Dad. It’ll only take a second.”
Before Caitlan could bow out gracefully, Laura opened the door and, arm still linked in Caitlan’s, dragged her into the room with her. “Morning, Dad!” Laura announced, her bubbly mood nearly infectious.
J.T. glanced up from the papers and ledgers spread out on the wide desk in front of him. “Hi, Smidget.” His gaze flickered from his exuberant daughter, bounding across the room, to Caitlan.
Caitlan gave him an apologetic look for interrupting his business, but he truly didn’t seem to mind the intrusion. Standing by one of the chairs in front of J.T.’s desk, she watched as he accepted Laura’s hug and quick kiss on the cheek. The closeness between father and daughter was evident, and Caitlan fleetingly wondered about Laura’s mother, and how any woman could walk out on her own child. The young girl seemed well adjusted, her Aunt Debbie and Paula doted on her, but what about that constant mothering attention and guidance a girl Laura’s age needed?
J.T. glanced at his watch, then chucked Laura lightly under the chin. The bus is going to be here in twenty minutes. Don’t miss it.”
“I won’t. I just want to show Caitlan the kittens, and then I’ll go to the bus stop.” Laura crossed back to Caitlan, then turned to her father with an impish grin. “Oh, and I just wanted to tell you so you don’t worry about it. Caitlan is going to Aunt Debbie’s with us on Sunday. Aunt Debbie really likes Caitlan, so I’m sure she won’t mind having her over.”
J.T.’s gaze slid to Caitlan, a half grin turning up the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure Debbie won’t,” he murmured.
Caitlan shifted on her feet, suddenly uncomfortable with his lazy observation. “If this is a family thing, I don’t really need to go—”
“Debbie would skin me alive if I left you at home.” He leaned back in his chair, his countenance relaxed. “We go over to her place every Sunday. I think she feels sorry for me, because it’s the only day Paula doesn’t cook supper.”
“Dad can’t cook,” Laura said out of the side of her mouth.
“Hey, I thought you liked my grilled cheese sandwiches.” J.T. feigned a hurt look. “I’m kind of partial to them myself.”
Laura rolled her eyes dramatically. “Dad, you can’t live on grilled cheese sandwiches alone. You need a wife. That way you wouldn’t have to depend on Paula or Aunt Debbie.”
J.T. shook a finger Laura’s way. “And you need a swat to your bottom.”
The words were tossed teasingly, but Caitlan noted the barely perceptible shift in J.T.’s easy mood. His jaw hardened, and the sparkle in his eyes faded. He kept his emotions tightly leashed, careful not to take his own personal grudge about a wife out on his daughter.
Sitting up, J.T. picked up his pencil and flipped open a folder. “Now get going before I make good on my threat.”
“You’re too much of a softy, Dad. I’ll see ya after school.” Laura blew her father a kiss from across the room, then headed for the door. “Come on, Caitlan. Time’s a wastin’.”
Caitlan couldn’t help delivering a parting remark to J.T., sugar-coating it with a grin. “Considering I have a
full
schedule ahead of me today, I’d better get a move on, huh?”
As she slipped out the door behind Laura, she heard J.T. say, “I ought to swat
your
butt.”
Smiling to herself, Caitlan walked beside Laura as they cut across to the barn. The day promised to be beautiful. A slight, chilled breeze blew, but the sky was clear for as far as the eye could see. The ranch hands had long since gone, leaving the area peaceful and serene for the time being.
Laura looked at Caitlan, concern creasing her delicate brows. “Dad doesn’t usually stick around the house. I hope he’s feeling okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Caitlan rubbed Laura’s back in a gesture meant to soothe her worries.
“He mentioned this morning at breakfast that he had some paperwork to catch up on.” Caitlan was grateful J.T. had decided to stay indoors. Having him so close made her job easier. She knew where he was and didn’t have to worry about defying him, and angering him even more, by following him around the ranch while he worked. How would she explain the need to be by his side all day long? The longer he stayed around the house, the better.
Laura grabbed Caitlan’s arm. “Will you keep an eye on him while I’m at school, just to be sure he’s
really
okay?” she asked, her tone a shade away from a plea.