Solitaire

Cat looked from Dal to Slade. His features looked suspiciously beatific.

“Well, uh, sure I understand. And Alessandra probably takes up all your time, anyway.”

Dal looked relieved that she understood and pressed another kiss on Cat’s waxen cheek. “Listen, we’ll call you once you get to Texas. Slade’s ranch sounds perfect for you.”

Slade’s ranch? Cat turned too quickly, pain causing her to gasp. She shut her eyes, all the questions purged from her mind. Slade gave her a game smile and waved goodbye to the departing family.

“Well, we’ll be seeing you, Cat,” her dad said, opening the door. “We’ll call you once a week and see how you’re comin’ along. Bye, honey…”

Cat tried to speak, to beg them to stay. When the pain finally subsided, the door had shut and silence filled the void. She looked up at Slade, her eyes narrowed. Slade was still holding her left hand, his fingers warming her cooler ones. She wanted to jerk out of his grasp but had better sense than to try it, knowing what the movement would cost her in terms of pain.

“All right, Donovan, what is going down?”

“Donovan? You were calling me Slade before.”

Cat compressed her lips, and set her jaw in a well-known Kincaid line that spelled trouble. “What cards do you have up that sleeve of yours? Everyone thinks I’m going to your ranch. No one’s asked me. If you think you can shanghai me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Slade tried to look properly chastised and continued to run his thumb in a feather-light circle on the back of her hand. “Shanghai you?” He groaned and raised his eyes dramatically to the ceiling. “Cat, I simply volunteered my plane and my ranch as a place where you can properly recuperate.” He stole a glance at her to see what effect his teasing was having. Absolutely none, he realized with a lurch. Slade girded himself for battle as spots of color came to Cat’s cheeks and an emerald flame leaped to life in her eyes. She might be sick, but she wasn’t helpless.

Slade tried to nip her reaction in the bud. “Listen to me, this is no time to get upset, Cat. I told your family that a nurse is three miles away from my ranch. Kai Travis and her husband, Matt, are good friends of mine. Dr. Scott said you’d need a warm, dry climate and the help of a nurse from time to time. Plus,” he went on quickly, trying to stay ahead of her opposition, “your brother, Rafe, has been under a BLM investigation for the past few months and he’s got his hands full trying to catch up on the ranch work. He wouldn’t be able to devote enough time to you. Your mother’s hip operation is in two weeks.” Slade shrugged and managed a hopeful smile. “I offered my ranch because I can take good care of you, Cat, while you convalesce. I did what I felt was best for us at the time.”

“Us?” came the strangled response. “There is no ‘us’!”

Looking contrite, Slade released her hand and walked to the end of the bed, holding her outraged stare. “Yes, us.”

Cat’s mouth dropped open. And then she quickly closed it into a thin line. “You and I are complete strangers.”

Slade had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Maybe we were a week ago, but I don’t feel that way about you now. Not after everything we’ve gone through together.” His voice became husky. “Before, I respected your work as a mining engineer. And then, when you were trapped, I saw and felt your courage. We both know the chances of your surviving that cave-in were pretty slim.”

At the mention of the cave-in, a chill wound through Cat. She tried to throw it off, but a suffocating fear rose up into her throat, choking her. Panic followed on its heels and Cat struggled to pretend nothing was wrong. My God, she was breaking out in a cold sweat! What was wrong with her? The fear she felt was all-consuming as it flowed darkly through her. Shakily, she wiped her sweaty brow, refusing to look at Slade.

Finally back in control, she spoke. “That still doesn’t give you any right to tell my family that they aren’t needed, Donovan!” Her voice cracked. “I want my family, not you.”

His face softened and Slade came to her side, brushing his knuckles lightly against her tear-stained cheek. “I know how fragile you really are, Cat, remember? I’ve been in cave-ins myself and lived to tell about it. I told your family that I knew what you were going to go through and I felt I was the best one for the job.”

“I’m not your responsibility, damn it!”

“Don’t get excited, Cat. The doctors want you to rest.”

“Then you shouldn’t have bullied your way into a family situation and taken over like you did!” She was breathing hard, each expansion of her ribs a fiery agony. Sweat glistened on her taut features and she lay back, her fists clenched. She turned her stormy green gaze on him. “You’re not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. I wish I could remember where I’d heard your name before. Then, I could put this together.”

Slade winced. He wasn’t sure himself why he was doing it. Sure, there was his business proposition, but that wasn’t his primary reason for wanting her nearby. He felt like a greedy robber, stealing time to get to know Cat on a personal level. “You’ve a right to be upset and angry,” Slade said, choosing his words carefully. “Rafe wanted to ask you if you wanted to go with me or come to the Triple K. For that, we owe you an apology. Rather, I do. Because I persuaded them that you’d be happy to come to Del Rio, Texas, with me.” He held her angry gaze. “I may kick around the world, Cat, but I do have some roots. The ranch is nothing fancy, but it’s nice. You’re not out of the woods yet with your injuries, and I convinced your family that with qualified medical help nearby, my ranch would be better for you. Besides, when you get better, there’s a business deal I’d like to discuss with you.”

Cat eyed him suspiciously, somewhat mollified by his explanation. “I don’t know… Let me think for a moment, Donovan.”

He shrugged shyly. “All I’m asking is to be allowed to help you for eight weeks, Cat. Hey, this isn’t a jail sentence. If you don’t like the place, you can leave. No hard feelings. It’s just that you can’t be by yourself and I have the time plus the room.”

Cat could have cried with frustration, but she had to admit that Slade was right. He had saved her life, and if she hadn’t been so arrogant, she’d have listened to his warning.

“All right, Donovan,” she muttered, “you saved my life. I didn’t realize my mother was going to have an operation so soon.” She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “I hate feeling like an invalid! I don’t like to be a burden on anyone, especially you. I don’t call getting a crabby, sick mining engineer just payment for all that you’ve done for me.”

His serious face creased in a boyish smile. “I happen to like crabby, sick mining engineers. For the next few months you’re going to rest and get plied with a lot of stories told by one of the best storytellers in west Texas: me. You’re to be a guest at my ranch, Cat. I just hope you like my company as much as I’m going to enjoy yours.”

Cat refused to look at him. “I’m not a small child that needs to be told bedtime stories.”

Slade’s grin was wide, revealing white teeth. “We’ll see,” was all he said. He glanced at his watch. “Time for a nap. You close those beautiful eyes, and I’m going to talk with Dr. Scott about what time we can get you out of this godforsaken cell.”

Cat wrinkled her nose. “Why should I be so anxious to trade one kind of prison for another?”

Slade came around and pressed a quick kiss to her fragrant hair. “It’s really me who is your prisoner.”

“Want to bet?” And yet, another part of her relaxed. If nothing else, the cave-in had taught Cat how alone a person could really be. Slade had reached her during those terrible hours, and her heart knew it even if her mind tried to tell her differently. “Don’t mind me,” she muttered in apology. “I’m not normally this crabby. I do appreciate your offer to take me in.”

Slade enjoyed her pout; her lower lip was full and petulant. The urge to capture her mouth and gentle it beneath his was growing, but Slade gently tucked the desire aside. “I understand your apprehension, Cat. Things have moved mighty fast today. But you sit back and concentrate on getting well. Let me take care of you for a while.”

With a merry look, Slade opened her door. “Rest. You’re getting dark shadows beneath those lovely eyes of yours. Just dream of the Mourning Dove Ranch.”

Cat watched Slade leave, enjoying his irrepressible, little-boy spirit that magically coaxed her out of her darkest moments. She shut her eyes, aware that the monstrous fear she had wanted to bury had miraculously vanished. Was it because of Slade? With a groan, Cat tried to look objectively at her motives for capitulating to him. He had vaguely mentioned discussing a business deal with her when she was better. Cat clung to that bare-branch offering and turned away from other feelings toward him.

Since when had she ever backed down from the demands of life? Only once. When she and geologist Greg Anderson had called off their relationship. But this was different, a voice whispered to Cat. Not only that, she reluctantly conceded, she didn’t have the emotional fortitude it took to wage the necessary battle to get out of Donovan’s clutches. And clutches they were, Cat thought grimly. Or were they? She couldn’t ignore the tender light that burned in his sapphire eyes every time he looked at her. Right now, as never before in her life, Cat needed help from someone other than herself. And Slade had offered that help to her. Instinctively, Cat knew that Slade could help rebuild her strength from the rubble of the mine cave-in.

Chapter Three

Well, Cathy, you’re certainly going to be in good hands.” Dr. Scott smiled as he looked through the release forms, while Cat sat patiently on the edge of the bed. With the help of one of the nurses, she had awkwardly pulled on a pair of cinnamon-colored slacks and a white tank top. Maine’s summer weather was usually on the cool side, but at eight o’clock this bright August morning, it was already a sunny seventy degrees.

“We’ll see about that, doctor,” she told him dryly. Cat automatically touched her tightly taped ribs. Two of the lowest had been broken and if the break had been any higher, her breasts would have prevented the elastic torso wrap from being applied.

“Mr. Donovan’s a paramedic, you know,” the physician said, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the last paper.

“Is he?” Cat looked up with interest.

“Yes, a very capable one. I’ve given him a list of all the prescriptions you might need, Cathy. He’s going to be watching you rather closely for the next couple of weeks because of your head injury. Let him know if you ever get dizzy.”

Dizzy? The first time she’d sat up, she’d nearly keeled over. If it hadn’t been for Slade’s quick action, she would have fallen off the bed. At first, Cat had retreated from his watchfulness; she was unused to being confined by an ailing body and resented being taken care of. But after three days, Slade had remained his cheerful, positive self and Cat had had to beg him not to tell any more jokes. She had feared she would laugh out loud, and that awful, ripping pain would take her breath away. Slade’s normally ebullient personality had sobered slightly, then shifted into a new gear–that of charming conversationalist.

A nurse arrived with the wheelchair for Cat’s ride to the front doors of the hospital. “The dizziness may or may not be permanent,” Dr. Scott warned, helping her into the chair. “The next two weeks will tell us quite a lot. Off you go, now. I understand you’ve an air trip ahead. Mr. Donovan’s quite a good pilot.”

Cat couldn’t resist a smile. “Did he tell you that?”

“No, I saw his flight logbook sitting with some other items. Being a pilot myself, I got him talking. He’s not only multiengine rated, he’s up on all the instrumentation demands, too. Judging from the hours he’s flown, I’ll lay you odds he flies around the world. He certainly has a lot of stories to tell.”

“Slade Donovan is a born storyteller, I suspect. Thank you, doctor, for everything.”

“Have a good flight, Cathy. We’ll be eager to hear how you’re progressing.”

At the curbside outside the hospital, the nurse eased the wheelchair to a halt. Slade was waiting next to the rental car for her. He was dressed in a freshly pressed blue shirt with epaulets on each shoulder. The shirt matched the color of his eyes, Cat thought. She had to stop herself from staring as if she were a gawky teenager instead of a woman older than thirty. His hair was dark and shining from a recent shower, his skin smooth of the stubble that always gave him a five o’clock shadow by four o’clock.

As Cat took his large hand and stood up, she suddenly saw Slade in a new light. His touch, as always, sent a warm rush through her. He had brought sunshine to her during her recent exile to Hades. She closed her eyes, allowing a fleeting feeling of dizziness to pass. Slade, observing her hesitation, moved closer to her left side, in case she should fall. Cat opened her eyes and raised her face to the sun.