Coming Up Roses (32 page)

He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "Right. Scarcely noticeable. I have to beat the women off with a stick. Now, would you please do us both a favor and go back to the house before I drag you into the barn, toss up your skirt, and show you what a bastard I can be if I set my mind to it?"

Kate could scarcely believe the pain she heard in his voice. He truly did think his facial imperfections made him ugly. What was worse was that he obviously believed she wasn't attracted to him.
The truth is, I'll take you
anyway I can get you. Marrying you, adopting Mandy … that'd make me one happy man, kind of like a dozen
Christmases, all rolled into one.
She didn't know how she could have been so blind.

Her only excuse lay in the fact that Miranda's and her wounds had run so deep that she hadn't been able to see past them. Zachariah had come into their lives and become their hero, salving their hurts, bringing them joy, teaching them to trust again. It had simply never occurred to her that someone who came bearing such gifts and who imparted such a feeling of peace might be battling a torment all his own.

She closed the distance between them and placed a tremulous hand over his scarred cheek. "Zachariah, you're a very attractive man. The first time I saw you, I didn't even notice the scars. Truly, I didn't."

He jerked back. "Kate, I'm warning you. I can't trust myself right now."

She caught his face between her palms. "I trust you enough for both of us."

He captured her wrists in a viselike grip. "I'm telling you, don't push me. I'm just that close. I swear it."

"If any other man on earth told me that, I'd run like my life depended on it. But never from you."

His body shook with the intensity of his emotions. "You're a fool then."

"Never, not about you."

His grip tightened until it felt as though the bones in her wrists might shatter. "Dammit, Kate, I love you. Don't you understand? With every breath I take. So much it hurts. It's not something I can work out of my system by renting a woman. I can't drown it in a jug of bourbon. It's you I want. Only you. And the thought of losing you is eating me alive."

"Zachariah—"

"Just shut up and listen, for God's sake. I'm dangerous right now. If I consummate this marriage, you can never walk away. It's not easy turning my back on that. I've got tonight. It's now or never, don't you see? After tomorrow, I won't get another chance."

The pain that emanated from him was all her doing. He had given Miranda and her so much, and she had taken, and taken, and taken, never stopping to think what it was costing him.

"What if I were to tell you that I don't want to walk away?"

His grip on her wrists slackened. "A life sentence, remember? It doesn't have to be that way. You can annul the marriage and be free. I'm trying my damnedest to leave that option open to you."

A life sentence
. Having those words thrown back at her hurt, but not nearly as much as she knew it hurt him to say them. Options. Only a man like Zachariah would care if she had any. As he had from the beginning, he was once again sacrificing himself to ensure her happiness. Twice now he had risked everything for her, first in the well to save Miranda and then again the night he had reburied Joseph. Now he was prepared to do it once more by turning his back on everything he wanted because he was afraid his wishes conflicted with hers.

As a young girl, Kate had had the usual fantasies of one day falling in love with a gallant gentleman who would beg for her hand on bended knee. That dream had turned to dust a lifetime ago. Now here stood Zachariah. He wasn't quite what she had once pictured. No three-piece suit. No flowers in hand. No pretty proclamations. But in a roughly tender way, no man could ever be more gallant.

Options… How lovely it felt just to know she had them, to know that this man would turn his back on her and walk away rather than deny her the right to make her own choices. He certainly wasn't obligated to give her that kind of freedom. Upstairs in the top bureau drawer, there was a marriage certificate that was more binding than any bill of sale. His wife, his property. No one would take him to task for taking what was his by right of law.

But Zachariah didn't see it that way. He didn't see her that way. To Kate that meant more than a whole wagonload of flowers.

"Where would you care to try raping me? The barn, did you say?"

"There won't be any
try
to it," he snarled. "You wouldn't stand the chance of a snowflake in August, and we both know it."

"Really?" As nervous as the thought made her, Kate knew this was one of those times that actions would speak far more loudly than words. She tried to free her wrists, but even his more relaxed grip was unbreakable. She jutted her chin at him. "Are you going to stand there talking it to death all night? You say you can rape a willing woman, I say you can't. Let's see which of us is right."

He released her as though the touch of her burned him. "Jesus H. Christ, have you lost your mind? Don't challenge me. I'm dead serious about this."

"So am I."

She spun away from him and headed toward the barn. Acutely aware of the heavy impact of his boots following along behind her, she hastened her pace, afraid she might lose her resolve. When she gained the building, she ducked into its dark embrace and turned to gaze at the broad-shouldered man silhouetted in the doorway behind her.

"Zachariah, if you intend to consummate this marriage, you'd best get to it before I lose my nerve."

She saw him run a hand over his face. "You're playing with fire. I hope you realize that."

Kate sighed and moved deeper into the darkness. Her foot caught on something, and she tripped. At her squeak of dismay, he stepped after her into the building.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No." She glanced back at him. "Are you coming? I'm really not all that good at this, you know. Loving you with all my heart only got me down to about the fifth button of my shirtwaist. And now I'm starting to wonder if maybe you're right, and I have lost my mind."

At her profession of love, Zach froze midstride, scarcely able to believe he had heard her right. A feeble shaft of moonlight fell across her, and he could see she actually had unbuttoned her bodice partway. He could also see that she was trembling. "What did you say?" he asked in a taut voice.

She leaned against a stall. Tears filled her eyes, shimmering like diamonds.

"How could you think I would trust a man I didn't love with the well-being of my child? I know I was wrong not to tell you how I was starting to feel. But how could you not know? Miranda is my life. I may not have said it with words, but when I went to the sheriff this morning, I was telling you all the same. I love you, Zachariah.

When this is over, I'll still love you. The very last thing I want is to end this marriage."

Zach didn't move so much as a muscle. He didn't trust himself to. God, how he wanted to believe her. But the fact of it was, she was shaking like a leaf and looking none too enthusiastic. A woman truly in love with a man didn't look as though she were about to face the chopping block when she contemplated making love with him.

"As for your scars…" She threw up her hands. "Don't you look in the shaving mirror? You're one of the most handsome men I've ever met."

Anger, hot and searing, crawled up the back of his throat. "That's bullshit."

"It isn't!" she cried. "Ever since you came here, female tongues have been buzzing. I knew all about you before I ever clapped eyes on you. Every young woman in town was aflutter. Until I met you, I couldn't imagine what the fuss was all about. And then I was in a flutter right along with them."

"You look scared to death right now," he observed dryly. "So what's your game here? If it's to ensure I'll take care of Mandy, it's not necessary. I told you that."

"My game?"

"Yes, your game," he shot back. "What else am I supposed to think?"

A tide of words came up Zach's throat along with the anger. He knew he should keep his mouth shut until he calmed down enough to think clearly, but knowing and doing were two different things.

"I nearly shoved Ryan's teeth down his throat for calling you a whore," he lashed at her. "Don't prove me a fool by using your body as a bargaining chip now."

Even in the dim light, he saw the color wash from her face. "Is that what you think?" she asked tremulously.

"That I'm trying to make a trade with my body to ensure Miranda's happiness?"

The stricken look on her face made Zach feel ashamed for having flung that at her. But it was the way he saw it, and there was too much at stake, for him and for her, to talk in circles. "It wouldn't be the first time, would it?"

She flinched as though he had slapped her.

Zach wished he didn't have to look at her, but closing his eyes on her pain was the coward's way out. "I know that's a low blow. But some things need saying."

"And some things are so vile they should never be said," she came back in a raw whisper.

"It may be vile, but it's the truth. Everything for Miranda, anything for Miranda. I saw you lying under Ryan, allowing him liberties, eating your fist to keep from screaming. If I subject you to the same, there's no one standing in line to kick my ass. So there we have it, don't we? I can take you or I can walk away. I tried to walk."

She raised her chin, looking for all the world as though she was bracing herself for a blow from his fist. "You said you were walking away so I could make my own choices. I choose you. Why must you question that?"

"Why wouldn't I? You were terrified on our wedding night. I understood that, and the very next morning, I confronted that issue. What changed after that, Kate? What do you think I am, the world's stupidest bastard?"

She parted her lips as though to speak, but he cut her off.

"Two weeks we've been married, and I've never seen you in anything but shirtwaists or nightgowns buttoned up to your chin and down to your wrists. Two weeks of four to a bed with a kid and a dog? We could have sneaked to another bedroom after Mandy went back to sleep any one of those nights, but did you ever once indicate to me that you were willing to? Hell, no! Because the truth of it was, you were relieved to be off the hook. Do you deny that?"

"No," she admitted tremulously.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then bent his head to scuff the dirt with the heel of his boot.

"Now, suddenly—miraculously—you do everything but issue me a dare to consummate our marriage? Suddenly you're professing undying love? Saying you trust me enough for both of us, and that you could never be afraid of me? If that's so, why in hell are you shaking like I'm the devil himself?"

She straightened her arms at her sides and doubled up her hands.

Without giving her a chance to speak, he rushed to the finish. "I think what's happened here is that while I wrestled with my demons last night and today, you were wrestling with yours. You sensed that all wasn't right with me, and you panicked. You'd already gone to the sheriff. If I backed out about taking care of Miranda, Ryan would get his hands on her. Isn't that a fairly accurate account? And so we've come to this. The trouble is, you're no great loss to the stage, especially not when it comes to seduction. Sorry, honey, but I don't buy in."

She shoved away from the stall, her gaze fixed on the doors behind him. "I don't think you're the devil, Zachariah. However, you were correct in saying I think you're the world's stupidest bastard. And blind as a damned mole, to boot."

With that, she tried to sweep past him. For an instant, he was so shocked by the language she had used he couldn't move. Then the meaning of what she had said sank in, and he grabbed her arm. "If I'm not reading this right, then tell me so."

Set off-balance by the pull of his hand, she whirled to face him. "The only thing I want to tell you is to go straight to hell," she cried raggedly. She jerked futilely to free her wrist. "Let go of me, damn you!"

In all the time Zach had known Kate, he had never heard her curse. That she was doing so now told him she was seeing red. "I'll let you go when you answer me."

"The things you've said don't deserve a response!"

With that, she took a wild swing, hitting his shoulder with her small fist. The impact of the blow didn't phase Zach, but the magnitude of what it meant did.

"Katie—"

She took another swing, and he missed getting a fist in his eye socket by a narrow margin. "Don't call me Katie!

It's Kate to you from now on!"

Zach seized her wrists before she perfected her aim. "I think you'd best calm down here."

"You calm down. I don't feel like it." She threw her weight to one side in an attempt to break his grip. "Let go of me! So help me, if you don't, I won't be responsible!"

Zach stared down at her. "Tell me where I'm wrong, dammit."

She froze and fastened huge, tear-filled eyes on his. "You call me whore, and you ask where you're wrong? You mock me for my modesty, and you ask where you're wrong? You talk to me about my choices, and how important they are to you, and then you see lies in everything I say?"