Heather Graham (5 page)

“No, I didn’t get the loan extended, but I may have a new one,” Martine said breezily. “Now, did everyone wash up? If not, go ahead and do so.”

“Who is this man that Bill was asking you about?” Sonia demanded stoutly, adding quickly, “Yes, ma’am, we all washed up at the bunkhouse. Now—what’s going on?”

Martine was once again rescued from an answer by the grand finale of all timely arrivals. She hadn’t noticed him come around the house; she hadn’t heard a thing. Yet even as she opened her mouth to stall again—since she had figured out no way at all to explain Kane Montgomery—she heard his voice, a low, pleasant, well-modulated drawl. “Good evening.”

Martine swung about. He was in nice, worn, form-hugging jeans and a red polo shirt that enhanced his dark, rugged looks. He was hatless this evening and apparently had quite recently stepped from the shower. His jaw was clean-shaved; his hair was still damp. His eyes met hers, and he smiled slowly, expectantly.

It seemed to take her heart a few seconds to start beating again. She was relieved to see him—and a little stunned. She had desperately wanted him to come back yet the whole thing had been ludicrous. …

He raised a brow slightly, as if he were a little amused by her speechlessness and even her lack of manners. He stepped forward, offering an outstretched hand to Sonia. “Hi, I’m Kane Montgomery. Has Martine mentioned me yet? I’m the new foreman.”

“
Foreman
!” Sonia exclaimed.

Everyone whirled around when Bill came out from the game room with the cooler and dropped it with surprise at Sonia’s word.

Kane gazed at Martine, his head inclined to the side in query, his voice a little taunting. “I guess you haven’t said anything yet, huh?”

Sonia was still staring at him, a little dazed. “Foreman?” she repeated. “Then that means we’ve still got a ranch!”

Martie finally recovered; the smell of charring meat did it for her. She quickly forked the meat and turned it over, drew in a deep breath, and tried to meet Kane’s eyes with the same calm gaze that he was giving her.

“Bill, Sonia, Jim, this is Kane Montgomery. Mr. Montgomery, do we still have a ranch?”

He reached into his pocket, his mouth still twisted with a small, amused grin as he walked toward her and produced a folded paper from his billfold. Her eyes glazed slightly as she stared down at the paper. She already knew what it was.

“Take it,” he told her quietly.

She did. Her fingers shook a little as she unfolded it and saw her original note marked paid and notarized.

She lifted her chin slowly, looking up into his eyes. “You—you really did it,” she murmured.

“Ms. Galway, did you have doubts?”

She shrugged, smiling slowly. “I have to admit that I had more than a few.”

“What is going on here?” Bill demanded.

“Meat’s burning—that’s what’s going on!” his wife declared, stepping around Martine to snatch the fork from her hand and adjust the searing meat again.

“Wait a minute!” Jim said, frowning. “We do have a ranch or we don’t have a ranch?”

Martine laughed a little nervously. After all, she still owed someone $8,000. And as fascinated as she was by Kane Montgomery, she still felt a few shivers when she gazed at him, remembering quite clearly that he had shown some coercive force and real temper that morning. But so far he hadn’t asked her to sign a thing. He had paid off her loan on faith.

“We have a ranch,” she said to Jim, but she had not yet managed to tug her eyes from Kane’s.

Bill let out a long whoop of relief and reached into the cooler for a beer. He threw it into the air and caught it. “I’ll drink to that!” he proclaimed.

“Steaks are ready,” Sonia announced. She moved the meat onto a platter and dug into the coals for the corn and potatoes. She paused, staring at Kane. “That is, the steaks are ready if Mr. Montgomery eats them the proper way.”

“Black and blue!” Kane said with a laugh. “Nice and pink inside, charcoaled on the out.”

“He’s got to be all right,” Sonia muttered. “The man knows how to eat a piece of meat.” She gave Kane a big, warm smile, which, Martine knew, meant that Sonia had decided to accept him, which also meant that Bill would accept him. Jim liked everyone.

“Guess we’re working for you then, Mr. Montgomery,” Bill said, approaching Kane with a broad smile and a can of beer. The men shook hands; it appeared that they had sized each other up and decided in a few short seconds that they both liked what they saw.

“Martie!” Sonia prodded her. “Are we going to eat or are we going to stand around all night?”

“We’re going to eat!” she said quickly.

The food was put on the table. Martine wound up between Kane and Jim, facing Sonia and Bill. She was situated evenly between the men, yet as food was passed and salt and pepper were requested and handed over, she realized that she was rivetingly aware of the man to her right, Kane.

Heat emanated from him. She sensed each contraction of his thigh, each fluid movement of his tanned arms, occasionally brushing hers like a whisper of warm air.

The steak had smelled so delicious, but now she could barely eat. She toyed with her glass of burgundy, sipping too much too quickly and growing even warmer.

She had to talk very little. Sonia and Bill were quizzing Kane in a very friendly style. And Kane was somehow answering them without really giving any answers at all. Yes, he had been in ranching all his life. No, he wasn’t from around here, much farther south.

“And you happened to just walk in today when you were so badly needed. With eight thousand dollars to boot!” Sonia marveled at it with a rich chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t really just happen to walk in,” Kane said, making Martine tense. He gazed at her with his eyes still carrying that glitter of subtle amusement, as if he were as aware of her slightest motion as she was of his. “I’ve, uh, worked for Senator Joe Devlin on and off over the years.”

“He’s back?” Martie asked, startled. She felt as if she were crashing down suddenly. It had been wonderful—a miracle, to say the least—that Kane had come along to save the ranch. But now it seemed a little too bad. If she had only known that Joe Devlin was back! Joe would have lent her the money, and then she wouldn’t be in debt to a man who was—no matter how fascinating and … arresting he might be—still a stranger.

A stranger with a definite aura of mystery about him, not to mention an ability to be a very dangerous man.

He turned to look at her then, and she felt her body tense once again; it seemed that a shield fell over his eyes. They suddenly seemed heavy-lidded and glittered in the falling sun.

“He got back just before dawn,” Kane said flatly. Then he gave his attention to Bill, asking questions about the cattle and the grazing lands and the state of the fences.

Martine took another long sip of wine. Her head seemed to be spinning. He did know cattle, and he did know horses. He had the bronzed and rugged look of a man who had really spent his life in the saddle. He appeared to be everything he was saying he was, yet somewhere deep inside her she was certain that he had to be more—much, much more.

She stood suddenly, smiling a little nervously at the gathering. “I think I’ll run in and put the coffee on,” she murmured. Before anyone could respond, she moved quickly over the patio and into the house.

Once she was in the parlor, she paused to lean against the wall, feeling the startling thud of her heart again.

Who was he?

It was the same question that had been nagging her all day, even when she had thought that he might disappear with the sunset—just as he had appeared with the dawn.

“What is the matter with me?” she whispered aloud. She should have just been grateful for what was—no matter what lay below the surface. She had her ranch. Legally. In fact, legally he was the one without a leg to stand on. Not that she wouldn’t repay him his money, but he hadn’t even asked her to sign a note yet. …

Martine pushed away from the wall and hurried into the kitchen. She quickly filled the pot with water and measured coffee into it, set it on the stove, then hurried to the phone. Her fingers, she noted, were still shaking as she dialed Joe’s number.

He answered the phone himself, and she said, “Hello, Joe. This is Martie Galway.”

“Martine! Young lady, I just heard about your troubles. I’m sorry I was away. I would have come by this afternoon except that by then I’d heard that it was all taken care of.”

She twisted the phone wire around her finger, smiling a little bitterly at the receiver. “Actually, Joe, I did try to reach you. First, you were in a swamp of meetings. Then you left on a junket.”

“But I should have gotten a message—”

Yes, you should have,
Martine thought, but she didn’t see any reason now to create a host of new problems for him. “I did leave my name, but when the secretary asked me if it was a matter of national emergency, I didn’t think my situation qualified. Anyway, that’s all past now, isn’t it?” She tried to sound cheerful; she could hear him mumbling about the inefficiency of the bureaucracy. “Thanks, Joe, for caring. It seems to be okay now, but that’s what I was calling you about. This man … Kane Montgomery, he says he knows you, that he’s worked for you. Is that true?”

Was the senator’s hesitation just a little too long? Martine wondered. Or was she just expecting it to be?

“Sure, Martie,” he said at last. “I know Kane. And yes, he’s, uh, worked for me.”

So he was real, Martine thought. Joe Devlin had just vouched for him. What more could she want?

He still just didn’t seem right.

“Martine, honey, you still there?”

“Yes, Joe, I’m sorry.” She paused for just a second again. “Then he’s really all right, Joe? He lent me the money I needed. How did a ranch hand happen to have eight thousand dollars—eight thousand he was immediately ready to hand over to me?”

“Well, I did know that your foreman’s been hospitalized for a while now, Martie. I sent Kane over there this morning.”

“Thanks.” She breathed lightly. One thing she couldn’t forget was the fact that Kane had really made one hell of a timely appearance that morning! “But the money—”

“Martie,” Joe Devlin interrupted, “I hate to tell you this, but eight thousand dollars isn’t all that much money anymore.”

It was when you didn’t have it, Martine thought mournfully.

“Martie,” the senator said softly, “trust me. Kane is all right.”

“But—”

“By the way, Martie, can you come out for dinner soon? Feels like a long time since I’ve seen you, young lady. And bring him.”

“Bring him?”

“Yeah, Kane.”

“Uh, sure, I suppose,” Martie murmured. Dinner was fine, but she was still feeling ridiculously confused, and she couldn’t understand why. She’d called Joe with questions. Well, Joe had answered her questions, assuring her that Kane Montgomery was all right.

Why did she feel Joe was hedging?

“I’ll see you then, Martine.”

“Uh, fine.”

Joe hung up. Martine replaced the receiver slowly, and as she did it seemed as if a sizzle of fire had leaped along her spine. She spun about—and Kane was there.

His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was leaning against the wall. His eyes were narrowed, yet his lips curled in amusement. She wondered with a sudden fury just what went on in his mind, what his thoughts were beneath the devilishly sharp shields that had risen over his eyes.

“Checking up on me?” he drawled.

“Yes,” she answered flatly.

He shrugged slightly, inclining his head toward her with a grimace. “And?”

“Joe Devlin seems to like you, but I’m sure you know that. And if you hadn’t known it, you would have ascertained it from my side of the conversation.” She hesitated for just a moment. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that eavesdropping is impolite?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping—or I didn’t intend to be. I’ve been right here. You just didn’t turn around.”

“You should have made your presence known.”

He shrugged again and walked across the room. “Coffee’s done,” he said. “What cups do you want?”

Martine hesitated, then went to the cupboard and started pulling out mugs. “Joe asked us over for dinner sometime,” she said, then stopped rattling the mugs and looked at him with a dry smile. “Or did you already know that?”

“Dinner with the senator sounds good,” he replied, undaunted by her tone.

“Dammit,” Martie snapped, “who are you?”

He laughed with an honest humor that seemed to encompass Martine with warmth. There was something deep about that laugh. It was low and rich and … and pleasantly, alluringly masculine. Like his clean scent, like the quiet, confident air about him. She realized with a start that she longed to reach out and touch him, to study the angles and curves of his features with her hands and fingers, and see if she couldn’t get to know him, find her answers, that way.

He was a man she barely knew, she reminded herself, a man who was still—with or without Joe’s recommendation—very disturbing and mysterious.

“Martine,” he said, catching her shoulders and staring down into her eyes, “I swear to you the money was mine. Saved—not begged, borrowed, or stolen. I promise you. I’ve worked ranches all my life. Joe Devlin vouched for me because he knows me. I don’t know what else to say to you that might settle your qualms.”

She felt more than a little flushed, standing that close to him, feeling his gaze and hands touch her like rays of a summer sun. She swallowed a little. No man—stranger or friend—had ever had the power to affect her so.

She tried to offer him a teasing smile. “You just rode in like the cavalry to rescue a damsel in distress. Would you have lent that money to anyone in need who could give you a job in return?”

“No,” he said simply. “I lent you the money because you—” He paused as if searching for the right word, then added so softly that she felt another shiver of heat rake her spine, “you fascinate me.”

“No. No strings attached,” she told him breathlessly.

“No strings attached,” he said in confirmation.

She drew in a deep breath and managed to pull away from his light hold on her shoulders. “There’s a tray beneath the counter,” she said briskly. “Sugar’s on the counter; cream’s in the fridge. Would you mind? I’ll take the pot.”