Until Spring (11 page)

To his amazement, she burst into tears.

He hadn't had any idea that this was imminent. Since this morning, when he'd first realized that she'd fled into the frigid Wyoming winter, he had drastically revised his assessment of her. She was deceptively frail looking, he had decided, a delicate beauty who, underneath that soft, fragile exterior resembled nothing so much as a steely trap. He hadn't expected tears.

While he was still trying to figure out how to respond, she dried her eyes on her sleeve and glared at him in defiance.

"All right," she said. "I lied. I have no friend in California, no place to stay when I get there. I don't have a job and I'm not a librarian. I'm going to California, though. That much is true."

He appeared to be thinking things over, and she didn't speak again.
He's going to throw me out,
she thought in growing panic as time passed and he said nothing.
He's trying to figure out whether to have me arrested.

"Look," she said. "I'm sorry I took the money. I knew when I did it that I shouldn't have. Just let me go now, and I won't bother you anymore."

"Go?" he said. "Are you joking?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Just let me out of here, let me go," she repeated, becoming distraught. She rushed out of the kitchen and yanked her coat from the closet near the front door, knocking over a kitchen chair in her haste.

"Keep Amos, please," she said as she struggled into her coat. "I can't give him a good home, and you can. If you'll just keep him for me, I'll send for him when I get to California, or maybe I'll send money for his food if that's what you want—"

"Jane," he said, gripping her shoulders hard and shaking her so that the hair fell back from her face.

"Let me
go,"
she said, tugging away from him so that she could place a well-aimed kick, if necessary.

"I want to help you," he said forcefully.

"I told you I want out of here," she said, grating the words through clenched teeth.

"Didn't you hear me? I'll help you," he repeated, and finally the words sank in.

She went limp. "You will?" she said unbelievingly.

He retained his grip on her. "I'll buy you a plane ticket to California," he said.

"Why?" she asked warily.

"Because you've had some bad breaks," he said, clipping the words off sharply.

"No one else ever cared enough—I mean, no one else ever wanted to help." She wrenched her shoulders out of his grasp.

"Well, I do. I'll lend you money, help you get some identification, whatever you need to start this new life you seem to want so desperately. But it'll have to be on my terms."

Jane stared at him. She might have guessed that there would be a catch. Of course he would have conditions, and she could well guess what they might be. As an attractive woman wandering the streets and traveling the highways, she had been subjected to the most disgusting and brutal suggestions. There were many ways that she could have made money, but she'd never gone in for that sort of thing. Never had the heart for it. Now Duncan was going to be like all the rest of the men who had tried to hustle her. She'd been wrong to think he was different.

"Aren't you interested in what those terms are?"

When she didn't answer, he said, "All right, then. I'll tell you. I want you to stay here until you're well. Until the weather is warmer. Until spring."

She waited, figuring that there was more to it. Finally she lifted her eyelids and saw that he was looking at her with an expression of compassion, which somehow was not what she had expected.

"And?" she said boldly. She might as well get this over with; there was bound to be more. She wanted him to come right out and say whatever else he expected.

"And?" he repeated.

"And what kind of payment do you expect for this kindness?" she said.

"Pay—" Dawning enlightenment spread across his face. To her amazement, a dark flush started at his collar and spread upward. He began to pace the floor.

"I want nothing from you, Jane. Nothing except your promise to stay here until you're well. After that I'll put you on a plane and you'll never have to see me again. That's all, everything. I require no
—favors,"
he said, underlining the word with scorn.

She stared at him. To her utter amazement, she believed him. True, he was a normal red-blooded American male. True, he had been deprived of steady female companionship ever since his wife left. But he was apparently not looking for the kind of relationship that she had supposed.

Jane was overcome with shame. It was only natural for her to think what she had thought; that this was a man who saw the opportunity to claim some sort of benefit from the fact that she was indebted to him. And yet she should have known—she
did
know—that Duncan Tate was trustworthy and would do nothing to harm her.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said, dropping her face to her hands. That way she wouldn't have to look at him.

He uttered a long sigh and touched a hand to her arm.

"Don't be," he said. "I can see why you might have thought that I—that I—oh, hell, what am I trying to say?"

He waited a moment and continued. "Look—um, Jane. My intentions are honorable. It so happens that I have plenty of room here and the financial resources to help you get a fresh start. It's irrelevant at the moment that you happen to be a very beautiful woman. Anyone in your circumstances would warrant my help. So what about it? Will you take me up on it, or are you so all-fired stubborn that you'll try to sneak away again?"

She lifted her head. He was, miracle of miracles, smiling at her. His good humor in the face of all she had done humbled her.

Maybe this was the chance she had prayed for, the lucky break that she had dreamed about. Was she too stupid to recognize good fortune when it stared her in the face?

There was an old-fashioned settle beside the door, and she sank onto it.

"I can't believe you mean it," she said, her eyes searching his for reassurance.

"Of course I do," he said. "I don't say things that I don't mean." He looked outraged at the very thought.

She was moved by his goodness, and humbled by it. "I wish I hadn't taken your money. I can hardly bear to look at you when I think of it."

He stood before her, his hands linked through the loops of his jeans. "We'll never mention the money again. Okay?"

She pressed her fingers to her eyelids, fighting tears. "Okay," she said, overwhelmed by his generosity. "But I want to repay you for your kindness. I'll stay, and I'll work around the house or cook or look after Mary Kate—"

He started to laugh. "Looking after Mary Kate! Now that's a fitting punishment if ever I heard one."

Jane lifted her head and stared at him, wondering how he could joke. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful. Maybe this is the best chance I'll ever have to get back on track. To make it."

"So you'll stay? Until spring?" He looked anxious and unsure, and she didn't want him to change his mind.

"Until spring," she agreed quickly.

"Let's shake on it," Duncan said.

She stood up, and they shook hands solemnly, then Duncan helped her remove her coat and hung it in the closet.

"I'm overdue for an appointment in town, so I've got to leave," Duncan said. He ran upstairs, where she heard him rattling around, and he hurried out with a quick goodbye. In a minute or two she heard the roar of the SUV's engine as it disappeared up the drive toward the road.

And then she saw that Duncan had left the money she'd stolen on the table near the door.

She couldn't believe that after what she'd done, he would go away on the very same day and leave her alone with not only the money she'd taken from his wallet but with all his possessions. If she'd had a mind to run, she could have stolen him blind.

Jane had no desire to run anymore. Now all she wanted was to prove herself worthy of Duncan Tate's help. She felt a sudden rush of warmth and gratitude toward him. She had lost her faith in people, but he had shown her that kindness and mercy still existed in this world.

Her guilt about what she had done to him was tremendous. But she'd have plenty of time to make it up to him. Because she was going to keep her promise.

She would stay until spring.

Chapter 6

Jane didn't know how to behave around Duncan, and so in her confusion she turned away entirely and, for solace, she withdrew into herself. She crept silently around the house when he was there. She didn't eat meals with him but took a tray to her room. At night she heard the chatter of the television set and the hollow echoes of Duncan's boot heels as he moved about downstairs. She only came out of her room for a late snack if she was sure he wasn't in the house.

These avoidance tactics proved successful for the next few days, until finally he called her on it.

She thought he'd left the house for his office in the barn. Duncan usually came in at lunchtime, ate, and sometimes watched TV after answering his email. Today he had done all those things and she'd heard the front door slam, but he must only have opened the door for Amos.

She was coming out of her bedroom when his solid bulk blocked the hall, so she dodged him, only to have him move right along with her.

"What's this all about?" he demanded.

"What do you mean?" she answered, her heart stepping up its beat. No matter how much she liked and trusted him, she couldn't help being fearful of people. She'd been conditioned to it on the streets.

"I mean I want to know why you're avoiding me," he said, wrinkling his forehead at her. He had a way of cocking his head to one side and waiting for her replies, and he did this now. He didn't seem angry, only perplexed, but there was something forceful in his manner too, and that alarmed her.

In her limited experience, most people who were prepared to be forceful were also inclined to be mean, and although this didn't square with what she knew of Duncan's character, her body went into its flight-for-survival mode. Her shoulders tensed, her stomach knotted, and her eyes widened.

"Come on, Jane, you know you've been staying out of my way," he said. "Ever since the day you tried to walk out of here, you've crept about trying not to run into me, and you've managed to be pretty successful at it, too."

He waited to see what she would say, and she wished that she were anywhere but here, facing Duncan Tate and having to explain her actions. Before she came to the ranch she hadn't had to answer to anyone, or if she had, it had only been under duress and to people who were uncommonly nosy about things that were none of their business, such as, "Where do you live?" or "Who was your last employer?" Her favorite defense had always been to hightail it out of there, but that wouldn't work in this instance. Duncan was too big and fast and too smart to outrun. He'd already proven it when she'd set out on her little jaunt up the highway.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me," she murmured, focusing on the top of his right shoulder, which was on the level of her eyes. She wouldn't look at his face. His expression would only make her feel guiltier than she already felt.

"If I didn't want to see you, I wouldn't let you stay here. I'd send you over to Rooney's or put you up in the tack room in the barn," he pointed out in a gentler tone.

"After what I did—" Jane whispered, looking stricken.

"Eaten up by guilt, are you?" he said. "Well, maybe that's all to the good. If you feel guilty about certain things, I guess you'll keep your part of our bargain."

She noticed that, true to his word, he was being careful not to mention the money she'd stolen. But her eyes involuntarily glanced up at the suggestion that she didn't intend to stay.

"I'm going to do exactly what I said I would," she said defensively. "I'm not going to run away again."

He relaxed visibly and smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, but I think we need to talk about how we're going to run this household while you're here. There's got to be a better way than the way we've been doing it."

"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it." She had no desire to sit down with Duncan and discuss anything.

"I
am
telling you what to do," he said smoothly, taking her hand and pulling her along the hall, down the stairs, and through the house until they stood in the kitchen.