Blinking irritably at the heavy, burning sensation in his eyes, compliments of a sleepless night invaded with erotic dreams of Caitlan, J.T. headed toward the kitchen for breakfast the following morning. The heavy scent of bacon and coffee, mingled with the sweeter aroma of Paula's delicious pancakes, provoked a rumble of hunger from his stomach. He needed food and coffee, then a fast run on Quinn to take the edge off his strung-out nerves.

J.T. stopped short when he walked across the threshold, his gaze riveted to the one woman he'd thought to avoid by getting up this early. Caitlan.

He felt like hell, knew he looked like hell, and to compound his ire, she sat at the end of the table looking as refreshed as a daisy after a spring rain-as if she had had a good eight hours of sleep under her belt. At five in the morning, for chrissakes! She should have looked a little wilted!

Her silky hair swung about her shoulders as she glanced at him. A slight smile curved her mouth. "Good morning," she said cheerfully.

Despite her attempt to be amiable, he detected the guardedness in her eyes. A look of uncertainty that said she wasn't sure she wanted to get too close to him. Good. After last night he wanted her to stay the hell away from him. The further, the better.

"Morning," he muttered. Crossing to the coffeepot, he poured himself a cup of the brew, then carried it to his regular seat at the table, across from Caitlan. Settling himself on the bench, he glanced around. "Where's Paula?"

"In the pantry," Caitlan replied, concentrating on the task of slathering strawberry jam on her toast.

"Breakfast will be on the table in a sec," Paula called. The sound of canned goods being shuffled from the shelves drifted out of the walk-in pantry. "Frank and Kirk are on their way up."

"That's fine." Taking a long swallow of coffee, J.T. studied Caitlan. She wouldn't look at him, acted as though he wasn't there. Her indifference annoyed him because he was all too aware of her.

She stood and went to refill her mug with coffee, offering him an unobstructed head-to-toe view. He recognized the thigh-length beige cable-knit sweater she wore over her jeans as Debbie's, and was grateful for the concealing and bulky top. He knew she had curves, had felt every one of them last night, and wanted no visual reminder of how lush her body really was.

She returned, and he took another drink of his coffee, parading his thoughts in a different direction. "What are you doing up so early?"

Grabbing the sugar container, she poured a long stream into her coffee, added a splash of cream, and stirred. "I couldn't sleep."

"Join the club." He watched her take a bite of her toast and lick a smudge of jam from her thumb, unaffected by his dry comment. Dammit, look up at me! After a reassuring glance to confirm that Paula was still busy in the pantry, he said in a low voice only Caitlan could hear, "I couldn't sleep probably because I'm not in the habit of receiving late-night visitors."

Her gaze flew to his, the violet depths smoky with awareness. He smiled, a measure of wicked satisfaction rushing through him at the telltale flush sweeping across her cheeks. He waited in anticipation for her rebuttal, but before she could reply they were interrupted.

"Don't mind J.T.," Paula said, bustling back into the kitchen, her arms full holding a container of dried noodles and a sack of potatoes. "A cup of strong coffee usually takes the grizzly out of him. Our J.T. isn't much of a morning person." She cast him a fond smile over her shoulder before unloading her staples onto the counter.

No, he wasn't much of a morning person, J.T. thought, staring at Caitlan's amused expression. Especially since wakening with an arousal so painfully hard it had taken a cold shower in order for him to zip up his jeans. And it was her fault. Even after she'd left his bed last night the scent and warmth of her lingered, haunting him and his dreams.

Frank and Kirk ambled in the back door, hanging their hats and coats on the rack situated there. Their discussion about the day's plans abruptly ended when they saw Caitlan sitting at the table.

"Morning," they greeted at the same time, both wearing congenial grins.

"Good morning," Caitlan replied with a bright smile.

J.T. gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment, refusing to wish them a good morning when his was as lousy as it got.

"Morning," Paula said, and began scrambling the eggs sitting in the frying pan, as was her regular routine once all her "boys" arrived.

"You're up mighty early, Ms. Daniels," Frank commented, taking a seat next to J.T.

Kirk poured two cups of coffee and carried them back to the table. Setting a mug before Frank, he lowered himself beside Caitlan. "Only fools like us get up this early," he added to Frank's observation, then slanted J.T. a goading look from across the expanse of wood. "You plan on making her work the range, or what, J.T.?"

Only from his brother-in-law would J.T. take such blatant ribbing. "No, and I don't want Caitlan to leave the general area without someone with her. Considering her bad sense of direction, I don't want to chance her getting lost."

Caitlan gathered up her dishes and stood. "You won't have to worry about entertaining me." A serious expression etched her features, but J.T. saw the sassy twinkle in her eyes as she repeated the order he'd given her last night in his office. "I'll do my best to stay out of everyone's way."

He watched her take her dishes to the sink, expecting her to leave the kitchen on that parting remark. To his surprise, she picked up a dish of bacon and a stack of clean plates and brought them to the table.

"Honey," Paula said, a little flustered with Caitlan's assistance. "You're a guest here. You don't have to do that." She scooped the fluffy scrambled eggs into a bowl.

"It's not a problem." Caitlan grabbed the entree before Paula could put the skillet back down and delivered the dish and the platter of pancakes to the hungry men. "Four hands are better than two. Besides, I've got nothing but time to kill. The least I can do for everyone's generosity is help out around here."

J.T. forked a couple of pancakes onto his plate, wondering how long Caitlan's enthusiasm would last. Today a novelty, tomorrow a chore, he thought in private, wry amusement. As soon as those soft hands of hers became chapped, dry, and sore, he was sure she'd be singing a different tune.

Turning his attention away from Caitlan, he glanced at Frank. "Do you have all the hands lined out for today?"

Frank nodded and took a gulp of coffee to wash down a bite of scrambled egg. "Gotta get that fence on the east end repaired, and I've got a group rounding up the cattle in the north pasture."

"Good." J.T. bit off a chunk of bacon and chewed. "If you don't need the extra body, I need to spend the day in the office." Out of the corner of his eye J.T. saw Caitlan look his way. He glanced at her just as she smiled and cast a long look upward. He frowned, wondering what she found so fascinating about the kitchen ceiling.

"I think we can manage without you today, boss," Kirk cut in while Frank nodded his agreement, since his mouth was full. "Wouldn't hurt us any if you took it easy for a few days, considering your accident."

"I'm fine," J.T. insisted, refusing to admit even to himself that he was exhausted and could use a few days to recuperate. Sticking around the house doing paperwork would have to do as far as rest and relaxation was concerned. "With Graham out because of his slipped disc, our feed order is falling short. I need to take inventory of our supplies and get everything back up to date again."

"Not a problem, boss." Frank wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it on his empty plate. "We've got the work covered."

"Great." With that settled, J.T. thanked Paula for breakfast and went to his office to immerse himself in bookkeeping and order-filling for the day.


"Caitlan, do you want to see the new kittens we have in the barn?" Laura asked, shoveling a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into her mouth.

At the kitchen sink, Caitlan glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Laura's excitement. "I'd love to. Just let me finish peeling this last potato for Paula." Finishing the task quickly and with ease, she placed the skinned potato with the others on a paper napkin.

Paula filled a huge pot with water to boil the potatoes. "The bus is going to be here in thirty minutes, Laura," she reminded her.

"Do I have to go to school today?" Laura complained, finishing off her bowl of cereal. She brought her empty juice glass and dishes to the sink. "Can't I stay home and show Caitlan around?"

Paula sent her a gently reproving look. "I don't think your father would be too pleased if you did that."

Laura let out a long sigh. "Why do I have to go to school while everyone else gets to stay home and have all the fun?" she grumbled.

Caitlan and Paula exchanged amused glances.

"I promise not to have any fun while you're at school," Caitlan vowed in a serious tone, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "Besides, today's Friday and you'll have all weekend to spend with me. We'll have all kinds of fun together. I promise."

Laura brightened marginally. "Sundays we usually go to Aunt Debbie's for dinner. Will you come with us?"

If the invitation had been issued by J.T., Caitlan would have accepted without hesitation. She needed to stay close to him, but how would he feel about her intruding on something as personal as a Sunday supper ritual? "I don't know-"

"Of course she'll go, Laura," Paula interrupted, lighting the burner beneath the pot of potatoes. "Your father wouldn't leave Caitlan all alone."