Keegan's Lady (56 page)

On the third day of his convalescence, Ace insisted on getting out of bed. Directly after Caitlin had fed him and his brothers breakfast, he took his rifle from the rack above the mantel and informed her he meant to ride fence line with David and Esa the remainder of that morning.

"I'll get so sore I can't wiggle if I don't force myself to move around."

"But your ribs! What if you take a tumble from the horse or something? You could end up puncturing a lung."

Ace took her by the shoulders. "Sweetheart., I haven't taken a tumble off Shakespeare since I broke him to ride. As for my ribs, I think they're just bruised."

Looking up at his dark face, which had become so incredibly dear to her, Caitlin couldn't quite rid herself of the feeling that something awful might happen if he left the house. She tried to tell herself it was only because she loved him so much. After all, what would she do if she lost him? How would she go on living if he rode off someday and never came back? She couldn't go back to her prior existence. Not now. Not when she knew firsthand how incredibly wonderful life could be.

I foolishness. Ace was a tall, strapping man—well muscled, healthy, skilled with weapons, intelligent. He wasn't likely to suffer some fatal accident while out riding fence line. And yet. .. Gazing up at his handsome face, still so bruised from the beating he'd taken from Patrick, she couldn't ignore the fact that he wasn't invincible. He could be injured just like any other man and leave her a widow.

A widow. The word struck terror into Caitlin. Now that she'd discovered love, she was desperately afraid of losing it. It felt so good to fall asleep at night in his strong arms. To feel cherished and safe. To know that tomorrow would be another wonderful day, filled with laughter and closeness and sharing. The feeling of family Ace had given her was something she'd never had, a sweet and beautiful gift. Now that she'd had a taste of it, she couldn't help but fear fate might snatch it away from her.

Fate. Caitlin's hadn't been particularly kind thus far. Perhaps, she reasoned in an attempt to make herself feel better, it was her turn to be happy. Maybe in the giant scheme of things, people had to suffer a certain measure of heartache before they found true happiness. If so, then she'd already had her share of sorrow. Perhaps now only good things were going to come her way. It was time she stopped letting her past tarnish her present and her future, time that she concentrated instead on being the kind of wife Ace deserved. This was her home now, not someplace she was merely visiting. It was up to her to see that everything ran smoothly.

On that positive thought, she chased the sense of impending doom from her mind and concentrated instead on straightening the house and preparing lunch, a huge pot of chili beans. Shortly before noon, she put a pan of cornbread into the oven to bake.

By the time Ace and his brothers came in from doing their morning chores, the house was filled with the delicious smells of piping hot food, ready to be served.

"Wow, Caitlin, this does taste good!" Esa mumbled around a mouthful of cornbread.

"Thank you very much, Esa. I'm glad you like it. But, please, don't talk with your mouth full," Caitlin admonished. To David, she said, "And get your elbows off the table, David. It isn't seemly."

Every man at the table, including Ace, stopped chewing to stare at her. Their expressions ranged from surprised to disgruntled.

"Well.. . ?" Caitlin flashed them all a smile. "When your mother joins us here, do you want her to think I've no understanding of etiquette and proper table manners?"

"We'll mind our manners when Ma gets here," Esa said. "Until then, why can't we just be ourselves?"

"Because I have requested otherwise." She met the gaze of each man. "When you sit down at my table, you will all be gentlemen, or you won't eat. New cook, new rules."

Ace's mouth quirked. He bent his head to shovel in another mouthful of beans. Caitlin arched an eyebrow, "The ceiling should never see your nape, Mr. Keegan. With concentration and a certain amount of coordination, it is possible to carry a spoonful of food to the mouth without putting one's face nearly in the bowl."

Broad shoulders straightened. Brown eyes met hers. After a long, tension-packed moment, he said, "Yes ma'am."

For the remainder of the meal, everyone's manners were exemplary. After they finished eating, the men helped Caitlin clean up the kitchen. When the last dish was dried and stowed away in the cupboard, Ace said, "How about a walk along the creek?"

Caitlin removed her apron and hung it on a hook Joseph had screwed into the wall near the back door. The cheerful sunlight that danced through the window over the sink beckoned temptingly. Going for a walk with her husband sounded heavenly. "You promised you'd rest this afternoon," she reminded him.

Though most of the swelling had left, Ace still sported a beauty of a black eye. He gave her a teasing wink. "What's the matter? Am I too ugly to go walking with, or what?"

Ugly? With his dark skin, the bruises on his face were noticeable, but not glaringly so. His was the kind of face that could sport bruises and still manage to look attractive. Caitiin thought the extra color gave him a rugged appeal, especially around his mouth. The nearly healed splits made his firm lips look vulnerable and kissable.

"I think I could be convinced to take a walk with you” she told him lightly, "but only if you promise you'll lie down for at least two hours when we get back."

He glanced from the kitchen toward the table, where his, brothers had gathered to partake of some after-dinner coffee. Looking back at her, he whispered, "Only two hours? I was really hoping for three. You will lie down with me, won't you?"

Caitlin felt herself blush. "You, sir, are impossible."

"Yeah, well, I can't get enough of you. If that makes me impossible, I guess I am. I'll happily lie down when we get back, Mrs. Keegan, but only if you agree to lie with me." He wiggled his eyebrows, clearly trying to look lecherous. "And I do mean that in the biblical sense."

As it turned out, they didn't wait to make love in the privacy of their bedroom. Ace found a grassy spot along the creek that was sheltered from view by a thick copse and promptly began unfastening Caitlin's buttons.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a voice gone high-pitched with nervousness. "We can't do anything out here. It's broad daylight! What if one of your hired hands happens along? Or one of your brothers? Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm crazy as a loco horse. But is that going to stop me? Hell, no." He opened her chemise, baring her breasts to the sunlight. "My God, you are beautiful."

Caitlin shivered at the rasp of his thumbs over her puckered nipples.

"Cold, sweetheart?"

"No, it's just—" Her lashes drifted slowly downward. When he touched her like this, she forgot everything but the sensations he elicited. "It's indecent, doing things like this, right out here in front of God and everybody."

"God, maybe. There's no one else around. As for indecent?" Still toying with her breasts, he claimed her mouth in a long, slow kiss that sent ribbons of excitement clear to her toes. "Making love is a sacred rite between a man and wife. There's nothing indecent about my touching you, sweetheart. When our flesh joins, it's a holy thing. A precious gift from God that He'd want us to enjoy. Don't you feel it?"

Caitlin felt it, all right. An incredible sweetness. She arched her back over his arm to accommodate his lips as they trailed down her throat to her breasts. With one flick of his tongue over her nipple, he drove any lingering concerns about propriety from her mind. Within seconds, she was moaning. Minutes later, he'd divested her of all her clothing. There on the grass, with the sunlight warming their skin, they made passionate love, followed later by a more languorous joining.

"It is holy," she whispered to him as they put their clothing back on. "Nothing that feels so wonderfully right could possibly be wrong."

As they strolled arm in arm back to the house, her thoughts turned to the future. She looked out across the endless stretches of ranch land, imagining her children romping in the sunshine, their voices ringing with laughter.

"Oh, Ace, I want babies," she said with a sigh.

He tugged his arm free from hers to encircle her waist and draw her close in a hug. "I'm working on it. I've always heard practice makes perfect. What do you think?"

She gave him a saucy grin. "I think I'll beat you back to the house. You did promise you'd lie down for two hours this afternoon."

"Only if you'll join me."

She slipped from his grasp and lifted her skirts to skip ahead of him. "Why do you think I'm so anxious to get there?"

***

Caitlin and Ace were disturbed from their "nap" by a sharp rap on the door. Caitlin dived under the covers. Her husband jerked the sheet up over her bare shoulders and flopped onto his back beside her, pretending to yawn loudly.

"Yo?" he called. "What do you want?"

Stifling a giggle, she snuggled up to her pillow. A second later, Joseph poked his head into the bedroom. His gaze shot from Caitlin to Ace, his expression knowing.

"Sorry to disturb you, big brother, but you have to roust out. We've got company coming, and it looks to me like trouble's riding double behind them."

"Who?" Ace asked, still feigning sleepiness.

"Marshal Beiler. He's got about twenty men with him, all of them packing rifles."

All pretense vanished. Ace sat bolt upright. "Shit."

The instant Joseph shut the door, Ace leaped from the bed, Caitlin close on his heels. As they threw on their clothes, she said, "What do you think he wants?"

He flashed her a disgruntled look. "God only knows."

Caitlin shoved on her shoes, forgoing stockings for the first time in her recollection. Recalling her fears of the morning, her throat went tight. "You don't think Dublin pressed charges against you for assault, do you? It'd be just like him."

Ace shook his head. "He took the first swing, and there were witnesses to the fact. Even if he did press charges, he couldn't make them stick."

By the time they finished dressing and left the bedroom, Joseph was already out on the porch speaking to Beiler, who'd dismounted and stood at the bottom of the steps, a rifle cradled at the ready in his arms. David and Esa, who'd evidently been doing something out in the barn, stood off to one side at the right end of the porch.

Glancing out through the window at Beiler and his cohorts, Caitlin shoved nervously at her tousled hair. Long strands had escaped her bun to trail along her neck. "Oh, Ace," she said worriedly. "What on earth do you think he wants?"

"Don't worry about your hair," he told her as he bent to tie down his gun holster. "You're staying in here. I don't like the looks of all those rifles."

Caitlin glanced back out the window. She had to admit, she didn't like the looks of them, either. At a quick count, Beiler was accompanied by about fifteen armed men.

Caitlin had known most of those men all her life. Some attended the community church. All were ranchers and family men. But this afternoon, their faces seemed oddly unfamiliar—hard and resolute, their glittering gazes rife with anger and resentment. Something had them all riled up. She could only wonder what.

"Oh, Ace, I'm scared. Why would they come here with rifles? Something's wrong."

He bent to quickly kiss her forehead. "You stay in here, all right? Whatever it is they're wanting, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you."

Caitlin clutched his shirt to keep him from turning away. "Nothing to do with me? Anything that involves you is my concern as well."

"Then be concerned. Just do your worrying from in here."

"They've come for you! I just know it! Something to do with Dublin, probably, and they're going to take you away! You have to get out of here. The back door. Go out the back door."

He grasped her firmly by the wrists. Caitlin knew he meant to pry her hands from his shirt, so she held on more stubbornly. "Caitlin, don't be silly. I haven't done anything."

"Neither did Joseph Paxton!"

The words hung between them, a silent testimony to the fact that Caitlin had turned her back on everything she had once believed, namely that Paxton might have murdered Camlin Beckett, just as he'd been accused of doing, and that he'd deserved to be hung that fateful night so very long ago. She knew better now. After knowing and loving Ace Keegan, how could she not?

"Sweetheart, a man can't run every time trouble comes calling." Gently, Ace worked her hands free from his shirt, his gaze holding hers. "We just have to trust in God, hm? I haven't done anything wrong."

"Estyn Beiler was there that night, Ace." Caitlin heard the hysteria in her voice, but for the life of her, she couldn't control it. "He stood by while my father bludgeoned and kicked a little boy! What kind of man could do that? He means you harm. I just know it. I can see it on his face. He hates you for telling the truth, for revealing the part he played in it. Don't you understand? You've put a mark on his record. Made him look bad. The only way he can completely regain his standing in I he community is to discredit you."

He stepped away from her. "Be that as it may, I can't run. It isn't in me, Caitlin. You have to understand that."