Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,153
not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? I lost the horse, didn’t I? It happened while I was in charge!”
“Wait a minute, Colt! Before you go on an extended guilt trip, let’s look at the facts, okay?” She pushed herself to her feet, and her cheeks flushed. “We’re not certain Black Magic caught this while he was ‘lost.’ And as far as you being responsible, I don’t think you should be beating yourself up over it. The same thing happened last year and you weren’t even here!”
“Last year Black Magic survived.”
“And he just might this year,” she said, crossing the room to stand only bare inches from him, “unless we all give up on him! Have some faith.”
“Do you?”
“I told you, usually the disease isn’t deadly.”
She was so close that Colton could see the ribbons of green in her hazel eyes, smell the scent of her. Her black hair gleamed in soft, tangled curls that rested against her cheeks and fell past her shoulders. “And what else do you have faith in Cass?” he asked, reaching forward, curling his fingers around her arms.
Cassie didn’t breathe. Her gaze flickered downward to where his long legs swung from the corner of the desk, brushing intimately against her skirt.
“That . . .” She swallowed hard. “That depends.”
“On?” Colton’s blood began to surge through his body. She was, without a doubt, the most bewitching woman he’d ever met.
“On you, Mr. McLean,” she said, her lips parting, the pulse at the hollow of her throat leaping out of control. “I’d like to have faith in you.”
His insides turned molten.
“Maybe you should.”
She tilted her chin. “Should I? Why?” she asked, her warm breath fanning his face.
“Colton? You in there?” Milly Samms’s voice drifted through the door. A loud rap echoed through the room.
Cassie froze in his arms for just a second. Blushing like a teenager, she quickly stepped back.
Colton, slightly amused, cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy. “Come in.”
“It’s time for din—” Milly stopped in midsentence as she stepped into the room. “Oh, Cassie! I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Cassie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “I thought I’d stay awhile, until we were sure none of the horses came down with the virus.”
“Virus?” Milly asked.
Colton explained about Black Magic and Tempest, and told the housekeeper about the possibility of an epidemic. “I tried to get hold of Denver, but he was out. If he calls back, I want to talk to him. Immediately.”
Milly’s round face had turned ashen. “What about the foals?”
“So far, so good,” Cassie said, “but I think I’d better stick around for a while.”
“Then come on in to dinner,” Milly insisted.
Cassie held up a hand. “No, I couldn’t—”
“Nonsense. I always make enough to feed the entire Third Battalion, so you just come along.” Before Cassie could protest any further, Milly swept out the door and hurried off toward the kitchen.
“I really can’t,” Cassie said to Colton once the housekeeper’s footsteps had faded.
“Why not?”
“Because. I don’t want to intrude—”
“You won’t. Besides, I want you to stay.” He touched her lightly under the chin, forcing her gaze to his, and for the first time that day Cassie saw tenderness tempering the passion in his eyes.
She swallowed nervously. Staying with Colton seemed natural and right, and she might be able to help if any of the rest of the stock came down with the virus.
“Don’t tell me,” Colton joked, “you’ve got a better offer.”
“Millions of them.”
“I thought so.”
Cassie’s lips turned up at the corners. “Actually I’m on my own tonight. Dad’s playing cards with some friends.”
“Then I insist.”
“And I accept,” she said, burying any lingering doubts. Tonight Colton needed her, and, unfortunately, she needed him.
* * *
Milly Samms proved an excellent cook. By the time the pork chops, potatoes, gravy, fresh asparagus and cherry pie had been served and devoured, Cassie was stuffed.
Curtis and Len had already left. Only she, Milly and Colton lingered over half-full cups of coffee at the McLeans’ large dining room table. “I’ll help with the dishes,” she offered, but Milly wouldn’t hear of it.
“You go tend to the horses, and I’ll handle this.”
“But—”
Colton reached over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t argue,” he said. “The kitchen is Milly’s turf. She kicked me out just the other day.”
“And a lucky thing, too,” Milly said, picking up a few of the platters of leftover meat and potatoes. “This place was fallin’ down around your ears and you didn’t even know it.”