Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (36 page)

Katie laughed, nearly losing her balance. “Must you speak to me as if I were a particularly annoying little child? Is this not my house now as well as yours, or are there rules concerning where I may and may not go?” She sounded amused, but there was a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I came to the study to see your books, of course! When I peeked in earlier, the first glimpse I had of this wonderful library made me happier than I’ve felt in a very long time.”

Jack was trying to decide how to react as Katie turned around and climbed down the ladder. She was so damned stubborn and independent! Trying to gain a measure of control in this relationship was like wrestling with a ghost; each time he thought he had a grip on the situation, Katie slipped through his fingers. Even more frustrating was the pang of admiration and attraction he felt as he watched her descend the ladder. Her waist looked tiny enough to encircle with his hands, and the curves of her hips stirred up memories of the sheer perfection and responsiveness of her body. He fought the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. One inner voice argued that there must be
some
redeeming feature to marriage, while another warned him not to yield to temptation or he’d end up falling in love with her. And falling in love with Katie seemed tantamount to falling into an abyss....

“Good morning, Mr. Wyatt!” Mrs. Gosling exclaimed as she entered the study carrying a tray of apple muffins. Her eyes touched on Jack, then warmed at the sight of Katie. “Mrs. Wyatt, these turned out beautifully. You have a magic touch! Did you tell Mr. Wyatt that you have already been at work in the kitchen? He’d doubtless scold me for letting you toil at dawn on your honeymoon, but when he tastes the results, he’ll sing a different tune.” Setting the tray on the desk, she turned to beam at Jack. “I was telling your bride about the day you came home last summer and asked for muffins. Why, I never thought you
liked
muffins! I didn’t understand then, but now I do, and I think that it’s terribly romantic. You were missing her, weren’t you, sir?”

Jack thought he must be losing his mind. “Isn’t it possible that I simply had a craving for muffins?”

Katie wrapped her arms around him from behind and smiled when she felt him flinch. “My husband is shy about expressing his feelings,” she told Mrs. Gosling as if Jack were not present, “but I don’t mind because we know the truth, don’t we, darling?”

“Ah, young love!” said Mrs. Gosling, sighing. “It does my old heart good to see it, and to see you looking so happy, Mr. Wyatt. I thought the day would never come.”

“So did I,” muttered Jack. He was burningly aware of Katie’s breasts pressed against his wide back.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone before Mr. Wyatt has to leave for the office. Do let me know if there is anything else I can get you.”

When the elderly housekeeper had closed the door on her way out, Jack reached down to pry Katie’s hands loose. “You are a little devil, do you know that?”

She held on stubbornly. “Don’t you want to take advantage of our time alone?” she teased.

Jack turned in her arms and stared down at her, their faces only a few inches apart. Katie smelled faintly of apples and cinnamon, and her lips looked delicious. “Damn you,” he said hoarsely before covering her mouth with his own. It was a scorching kiss, and his arms seemed to have a will of their own as they encircled her slim back and pressed her firmly against his body. Katie warmed and softened in his embrace, molding herself to him. It occurred to Jack that he could lock the door and take her right there on the rug, but a moment before he lost all sense of reason, he pulled himself back from the precipice.

“What are you up to?” he inquired, his voice husky with desire and a telltale trace of affection.

She was all innocence. “I don’t know what you mean. Is it wrong for a wife to flirt with her husband?”

“Well, I suppose not,” Jack muttered, clearing his throat, “but this is hardly the time.” He walked around the desk and poured himself a cup of tea. “You have to understand, Kathleen, that I have a fairly rigid schedule here. My life is very different from the one I led in Columbia. I have a business to run, and I never allow myself more than a half hour to bathe and dress, then another half hour for tea here in my study. This is a very important interlude for me. It gives me a chance to organize my thoughts for the day ahead, to relax in solitude before I begin what amounts to a day-long marathon.”

Katie liked to look at Jack. When she was able to remain objective, she felt a little surge of pride at the realization that he was her husband. His hair gleamed in the morning sunlight that poured through the window behind the desk, his face was golden brown against the white of his shirt, and he wore his expensive, tasteful clothes with the grace of a lion that
seemed
to be tamed.

“I think that the routine you have described is fairly typical of bachelors,” she said. “When one operates independently, it’s quite easy to make an art out of organizing one’s life. However, when one marries, the art becomes that of learning to compromise.”

He glanced up from the newspaper, his eyes sharp. “I think that if
one
is earning the family living, one can have the last word.”

Katie narrowed her eyes and smiled at the same time. “That doesn’t sound very fair to me,” she said sweetly.

Jack merely shrugged, sat down, and tried to concentrate on the morning’s headlines. He hoped that Katie would take the rather heavy hint and leave. Instead, she pulled a chair up to the desk and inquired:

“What exactly do you do to earn the family living?”

“I am the publisher and editor-in-chief of the
Morning Star,”
he replied casually.

Katie sank back against the tufted velvet upholstery, unable to conceal her shock. It was almost impossible to reconcile this disclosure with what she’d believed about the man she had known in Columbia. Memories crowded her mind: Jack’s interference with her work at the
Gazette,
the platen he had acquired from some “anonymous donor” and then insisted on testing, and his insufferable penchant for giving her advice about newspaper writing. A flush spread over her cheeks as she recalled her superior attitude toward him when they were in the
Gazette
office, and suddenly she heard his angry voice again, shouting, “You have no idea what I do and do not know!”

“The
Morning Star
is one of the finest newspapers in the West,” Katie murmured at length. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Jack looked up, one eyebrow arched.”I wasn’t there as Jonathan Wyatt, I was there as Jack Adams.”

“But, I don’t understand.
Why
were you—”

“Kathleen, I can’t go into all that now. In fact, it’s a subject that I consider closed. My reasons for needing to get away from San Francisco and live more simply were personal, and a part of the past. I think that we have enough to deal with in the present, many adjustments to make, and I just don’t see the point in wasting valuable time talking about something that is no longer relevant.” With that, he consulted his watch, snapped the newspaper closed, and stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait!” Katie stood up, too, prepared to block the doorway if necessary. She wanted to protest that Jack didn’t want to talk about
anything
personal, including the marriage that they had just embarked upon, but she sensed that one more outburst from her would only cause him to retreat further. “What am I supposed to do all day?”

“What do wives usually do?” he replied absently.

“I have always worked, and I want to continue to work. You know that I have skills as a newspaper reporter. Why can’t I come to work at the
Star?”

Jack stared, then gave a short laugh. “Ridiculous! Absolutely not.”

“That’s not an answer! You have to give me a reason.” Spots of color stained her cheeks.

“You are the wife of a wealthy man, Kathleen, and you do not have to work,” he said coolly, gathering up his business papers. “There is a great deal to occupy you in this house. Have Mrs. Gosling hire a maid for you. Go out and purchase some new gowns. God knows you need a proper wardrobe! Have you no feminine instincts? Act like a wife! You’ll have to learn that you aren’t in the foothills anymore.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way!” Katie followed him across the study, longing to wrestle him to the carpet and sit on him until he heard her out. “You knew what I was like when you married me. If you wanted a San Francisco society belle, you should have married
Genevieve,
the way everyone apparently expected you to!”

Her risk paid off, if only for an instant. Jack paled, then turned back to grip her arm. “You’re going to make me wish I had, you little vixen,” he said in a dangerously low voice. His eyes were like green ice, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. “I’m going to work now, and I trust that when I return tonight you will have settled on a more pleasing topic of conversation!”

Katie had no choice but to watch him walk away. When she heard the heavy front door slam with a thud, she nearly vented her frustrations in a long, loud scream, but then she remembered that the house was full of people. All of them were still virtual strangers, and she didn’t want them to think that Jack had married a madwoman....

* * *

“Well, if it isn’t my new granddaughter!” Ambrose looked up from his place at the end of the empty dining room table and gave Katie a welcoming smile. “What do you have there, sweetheart?”

She stood in the doorway holding the plate of muffins.”I thought you might like one of these. I baked them earlier for Jack’s breakfast, but... he wasn’t very hungry.”

“Come on in and sit down. I won’t bite, and neither will Harriet. Where’s that little tiger of yours, by the way?”

“Up on my bed. She’s getting used to the house one room at a time, I guess.” Katie walked the length of the long table and took the chair at Ambrose’s left. It warmed her heart to see the old man snatch a muffin immediately and eat it in three large bites.

“Jack doesn’t care for muffins,” he confided, swallowing the last of it and reaching for another.

“I don’t think Jack cares for much of anything,” she said.

“You know, my dear, I was about to tell you how pretty you look this morning, but I can’t do that until you give me a smile!” He chuckled at her attempt to oblige. “Well, that’s a little better. Now, tell your old grandfather what’s bothering you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I am used to having a great deal of freedom. I grew up in a town where I didn’t have to follow all the usual rules for feminine etiquette. I worked alongside my father in our saloon, and I ran it myself after he died a few months ago. I also wrote articles for the
Columbia Gazette.
Jack knew me quite well there. He’s certainly aware that I am not some simpering female who delights in taking tea and embroidering all day long. And yet—” Her voice caught.

“Yes?” Summers prodded gently.

“And yet he seems to expect me to become that sort of woman, that sort of
wife,
now. He doesn’t want me in his way, he doesn’t want to hear my opinions, and he certainly doesn’t want me to
work!”
Katie laughed shakily.

Ambrose patted her hand. “I’d urge you not to let him bully you, sweetheart, but clearly there’s no danger of that! Now then, without betraying Jack’s confidence, I will tell you that there are reasons for his need for discipline. There was a time when he didn’t impose any restraints on himself, and he nearly lost everything. He had the good sense, however, to stop before it was too late. While rebuilding his life, Jack may have overcompensated in the area of discipline. There’s more to it than that, and I don’t doubt that the day will come when he will discuss this with you in depth, but for now I can only urge you to be patient with him.” Ambrose took another bite of muffin. “Mm! Delicious! As I was saying, I happen to believe that Jack has slowly been outgrowing the structure he imposed on himself. He tested his wings during the weeks he spent as Jack Adams—”

“Do you know all about that? He’s so secretive that I wasn’t certain how much the family knew.”

“I’m the only one he confided in. Conrad knows very little, so it’s best for you to restrict your conversation to the here and now when we’re all together. I’m not even sure it’s a good idea for me to be discussing this with you, except that you deserve at least a semblance of an explanation for Jack’s behavior.”

“But you think that he is changing?” Katie’s eyes were wide with hope.

“You, my dear, are the surest sign of that. The fact that he married at all is a tremendous leap, and the type of woman he chose seems a clear indication of the new direction in his life. I think that, gradually, Jack will discover that he can bend without breaking, that he can feel passion again without losing control of his life....”

Katie considered this, her brow furrowed and her chin propped on her palm. “I hope you are right, Ambrose,” she murmured at length.

“Trust me, my dear.” His eyes twinkled behind the spectacles he wore. “Are you in love with my grandson?”

She blushed. “Well, I...”

“You owe me a secret!”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose that I am, but he must not know it. Not yet.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. It would spoil all the fun! I plan to enjoy watching this drama unfold.”

“But what shall I do in the meantime? Just be patient with him?”