Rekindled (27 page)

A footfall sounded again, this time on the stairs. She turned to the door, her heart in her throat.

Moments passed, nothing happened.

Calming, Kathryn nearly laughed out loud at her own guilty conscience. She shook her head, breathed in the lemon-scented air, and admired her handiwork. The shelves and desk fairly gleamed. Surely Miss Maudie would be pleased.

Quickly exiting the office, Kathryn latched the door quietly behind her and noticed the doors to the master bedroom now stood open.

She knocked on the doorjamb. “Mr. MacGregor?” She waited, then called his name again.

Stepping inside, the opulence of the room made her pause, as it had the night before. Everything in this room bespoke money and success. But given the choice, she would still choose the cabin Larson had built for her—if only he were still alive to share it with her.

Pushing aside the awkward feeling that accompanied being in Donlyn MacGregor’s private quarters, Kathryn picked up a pair of trousers and a coat slung over a wingback chair. She walked around the corner to the mahogany wardrobe, lining up the ironed folds of the pants. She heard the bedroom door slam shut.

“Of all the . . .”

Kathryn’s eyes widened at the string of curses that followed, and then she jumped at the sound of breaking glass. Recognizing the thick brogue, she stepped from behind the wardrobe door to make her presence known.

Donlyn MacGregor’s dark eyes shot up, and for a moment, he simply stared. Then a slow smile, one she’d seen before, curved his mouth. “Well, maybe heaven will yet smile on me this day.” His gaze swept her front, then stopped abruptly around her midsection. His eyes narrowed.

For some unexplained reason Mr. MacGregor’s obvious displeasure at seeing her with child pleased her immensely. Apparently Miss Maudie had not shared that piece of news with him. Kathryn’s affection for the woman grew even as she remembered that MacGregor was now her employer—and her sole prospect for keeping her land.

“Mr. MacGregor.” She offered a deferent nod. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d left the room in order for it to be cleaned.”

His mouth drew into a thin line. “Mrs. Jennings. You’re looking . . . in full health today.” His voice grew flat.

She gave a half smile, said, “Thank you, sir,” then quickly hung the pants and coat in the wardrobe, eager to leave.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday to give you a proper welcome to Casaroja. I would’ve preferred to give the tour myself. But no doubt Miss Maudie did that in my stead.”

“She showed me the house. Yes, sir.”

“But not the lands?”

“No, sir. But Miss Maudie’s a kind woman and I felt welcomed by everyone.” Well, almost everyone. Kathryn glanced out the large window overlooking Casaroja’s stables, but she didn’t see the ranch hand or the buckskin mare. She closed the chifforobe door and turned. “I hope you had a pleasant trip, sir. I’ll come back to finish at a more convenient time.”

MacGregor walked to the edge of the bed and stopped before her. “Now is quite a convenient time for me, Mrs. Jennings. I was hopin’ for the chance to see you again. Though I must admit, I never did dream you’d be so agreeable as to meet in my private quarters.” He glanced down at the bed, then back to her. “You can’t have been in here very long, lass. You haven’t even made the bed yet.” A gleam lit his dark eyes. “Maybe we could be doin’ that together.”

Kathryn’s mouth fell open, her face heated at the insinuation. Was this man always so single-minded? “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. MacGregor. I’ll come back later.” She picked up her bucket of supplies and skirted past him. Something crunched beneath her boot and she stopped. Shards of crystal littered the floor. From the broken remnants and pungent aroma, it appeared to have been a brandy decanter at one time.

“I knocked that over on my way in, Mrs. Jennings.” His tone didn’t even approach believability, and they both knew it. “Would you be so kind as to clean it up for me?” When she didn’t respond, he reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers over the back of her hand. “Please,” he added softly.

Kathryn stared back at him. The ardor in his eyes had been replaced by a challenge.

MacGregor had known he was hiring her—that was clear from what Miss Maudie had told her about her employer having reviewed her letter. Kathryn suddenly wondered if his expectations of her being here at Casaroja extended beyond what she and Miss Maudie had discussed. Better to set that straight right now.

“Yes, I’ll clean it up, Mr. MacGregor. But not with you in the room.” She paused for a beat before moving past him.

He let out a laugh. “It seems you’re always doin’ this to me, Kathryn.”

Reaching the door, she turned, not caring for the sound of her name coming from him. “Doing what, Mr. MacGregor?”

“Walkin’ away from me . . . Mrs. Jennings.” He dipped his head in mock deference. “And especially when we have so much yet to be discussin’.”

Kathryn fought the anger and disappointment tightening her throat. How quickly she’d pinned her hopes for herself and her child on this new position, and how foolish she felt for doing so. “I thought I understood my duties here at Casaroja, but apparently I did not. I’ll let Miss Maudie know I’m leaving.”

MacGregor quickly closed the distance between them and put out a hand to stay the door. Kathryn could smell the spice of his cologne and feel his breath on her cheek.

A moment passed. “Look at me, Mrs. Jennings.”

She wouldn’t.

He sighed. “I was only toyin’ with you just now, lass.” The lilt in his voice thickened. “I don’t know why I do it—you just seem to bring it out in me. I came in here angry, and then you stepped from behind there with no warnin’.” From her periphery, Kathryn saw him shrug. “Frankly, you were a bit of a welcome sight to me, darlin’. Too much of one, I fear,” he added, his voice almost ringing sincere. Almost.

But Kathryn didn’t believe a word of it. Other than the part about him toying with her. She tried to open the door. “I wish to leave now, please.”

He held the door fast. “I apologize for my behavior, Mrs. Jennings. It won’t be happenin’ again, I assure you.”

“Now, Mr. MacGregor,” she said more forcefully.

He removed his hand. But the door opened before Kathryn could turn the knob.

The young maid’s eyes went round. “Oh, excuse me, sir,” Molly gasped. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

The girl’s assumption was written in her shocked expression. Kathryn reached for her hand. “No, Molly, it’s fine. Mr. MacGregor returned and didn’t realize I was in the room. I’m leaving. I’ll come back later to clean, once he’s through.”

Molly looked from one to the other. “Yes, ma’am. Of course.” The girl nodded, but suspicion crept into her eyes before she turned and hurried down the hall toward the stairs.

Kathryn followed her into the hallway.

“I’ll take care of clearing up the misunderstanding,” MacGregor said close beside her.

“No. You’ve done quite enough already. I’ll speak with Molly myself.”

“As you wish. But we still need to discuss my business proposal. Beginning immediately, I’d like to lease your land for grazing my cattle. That would provide you with a steady income from the ranch land while giving us time to discuss other options. Or are you no longer interested in my offer?”

Kathryn studied him. Donlyn MacGregor was a powerful man—in every sense. And certainly not the most trustworthy. Did she dare pursue a partnership with him? But if she wanted to keep the ranch, did she have a choice? And his offer to lease the land was generous. She thought about the course of events that had placed her here at Casaroja. Certainly that was God’s hand, right? So was it her own selfishness that was driving her now, or God’s will?

Swallowing her pride, she finally nodded. “Yes, I’m still interested and want to speak with you about it. But not in your bedroom,” she added quickly, putting more distance between them.

“Give me your requirements for our next meeting, madam, and I’ll meet every one.”

His smile looked sincere enough, but not wanting to encourage further teasing, Kathryn kept her tone serious. “A more public place would be nice. And next time, leave the door open.”

He didn’t answer for a moment; he appeared to be considering what she’d said. “Your every request is my pleasure, lass,” MacGregor finally said softly, then let his focus slowly move beyond her.

Kathryn turned. The bucket nearly slipped from her hands.

At the top of the stairs, Miss Maudie and two ranch hands stood staring. Kathryn heard the bedroom door close behind her, and with it, the sealing of her apparent guilt.

Miss Maudie’s eyes were wide and displeasure lined her expression. The taller ranch hand with curly dark hair grinned in a way that left no doubt as to his assumption. But the other man’s attention seemed to be burning a hole straight through her.

Kathryn couldn’t see his eyes through the smoke-colored glasses, but he wasn’t smiling. Neither did surprise register on his face. Yet his condemnation was tangible. Her cheeks burned with it.

“Where have you been, Kathryn?” Miss Maudie’s voice sounded unnaturally bright. “I came lookin’ for you earlier.”

Kathryn blinked and drew a quick breath. “I was working, Miss Maudie.” Heat prickled from her scalp to her toes. “I was cleaning in the—”

“Very well, Kathryn. Finish your chores downstairs, then wait for me in the study, please.” Miss Maudie turned to the ranch hands. “It’s the second bedroom there on the right. There’s a wardrobe that needs to be carried downstairs.”

Kathryn kept her eyes downcast as she passed, afraid they would mistake her tears for an admission of guilt.

Later that afternoon after finishing her duties, Kathryn sat in the study, waiting as Miss Maudie had instructed. Regardless of her innocence, she still felt the sting of guilt. And hearing the other servants whisper behind her back hadn’t helped. Molly had obviously wasted no time in retelling the tale. Kathryn cringed again when remembering the look on Miss Maudie’s face. She so wanted to please the woman, and to keep this job.

The door opened. She jumped to her feet.

“Be seated, Kathryn.” Miss Maudie’s tone held a hint of benevolence, as did her eyes. She sat in the chair opposite Kathryn. “Tell me exactly what happened this morning.”

Kathryn quickly summarized the events, from knocking on Mr. MacGregor’s bedroom door to the moment when Miss Maudie saw her leaving the room. Remembering the pride in Maudie’s voice when she spoke of Mr. MacGregor, she chose to leave out the part about his crass suggestions. Sharing that would only raise more suspicion, and besides, he’d promised not to do it again. “I assure you nothing happened. Mr. MacGregor came back into the room unexpectedly, that’s all.”

Miss Maudie studied her for a moment, then sighed. “I believe you, Kathryn.”

“You do?” she asked, feeling immediate relief. “Thank you.”

“But you must be more careful in the future. Gossip spreads quickly at Casaroja, and an incident such as this does a lady’s reputation little good.”

Kathryn nodded in understanding and started to rise.

Miss Maudie put out a hand. “There is one more thing, Kathryn dear. Mr. MacGregor’s office was cleaned earlier today. Was that your doin’?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kathryn answered, looking at her hands in her lap. She smiled, secretly glad for the chance to redeem herself.

“Was cleanin’ Mr. MacGregor’s personal office on your list of duties today?”

Kathryn blinked at the crisp turn Miss Maudie’s voice had taken. “No, ma’am, it wasn’t,” she answered softly. “But when I saw that it hadn’t been cleaned in a while, I thought that—” She fell silent at the look in the older woman’s eyes. “No, it wasn’t on my list.”

“I appreciate your willingness to work hard, Kathryn. It’s quite commendable. But Mr. MacGregor has strict rules about who’s allowed on the second floor, and into his personal office, for certain. So, keep to the list that I give you, my dear, and you’ll do well here at Casaroja.”

Larson watched her from the shadows of the barn stall, his heart pounding. Kathryn stood just beyond the double-planked doors— near enough for him to see the soft shimmer of highlights in her hair and the crinkle of her brow. What was she doing down here at the stables? And in the middle of the afternoon? He looked at his glasses that lay on a workbench a few feet away.

He’d seen her every day since having caught her leaving Mac-Gregor’s bedroom. He’d said nothing to anyone, but word had traveled fast among the other ranch hands. Within two days, the whole episode was common knowledge. Within a week, they knew she’d lived in a brothel back in town and were labeling her child as the product of the place. They used a word Larson knew well and a label he’d spent most of his adult life trying to escape.

Earlier that morning he’d been working with the buckskin mare when a group of wranglers rode by. They yelled things at Kathryn as she was hanging laundry. She acted like she didn’t hear, but Larson knew from the stiff set of her shoulders that she’d heard every word.

Kathryn took a step closer into the stable, and he pressed back against the timbered wall. The hay crunched softly beneath his boots. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. Her delicately arched brow, her dainty mouth, the clouds of silken blond curls falling over her shoulders. . . . He took in the full swell of her black skirt and the tenderness inside him waned.