Looking away, he absently kicked a small rock with the toe of his boot. "I wanted to check out the area before we left. I was hoping to find something to give me a clue as to who might have done this. All I know is that the tree was purposely cut and situated across the creek to stop the flow of water to the main pasture."

Frowning, she glanced at the crystal-clear water rippling downstream. "Why would someone do that?"

"Hell if I know." Frustration gnawed at him.

"The only thing I can figure, if this was a deliberate sabotage attempt, is that the water would back up and flood the pasture, making it too marshy for grazing. But that doesn't explain why I got clubbed."

She transferred her gaze back to him. "Why would someone want to harm you?"

"I don't know."

Her brows creased, and J.T. found he wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkle with his thumb. Thrusting his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, he stared out across his land. "Maybe a transient hit me over the head." Even to his own ears, the explanation sounded like a last-ditch effort to convince himself he wasn't on someone's hit list. "Maybe he wanted my horse, and that's why no one has come looking for me yet. If Quinn never made it back to the Circle R, Frank, my foreman, probably thinks I spent the night in the line shack and am out assessing any damage done by the storm."

"Maybe, but you said the tree was cut deliberately. Why would a drifter go to that much trouble-?"

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, anger coiling inside him. "Maybe I'm just making excuses because I don't want to believe I have an enemy nearby, or that I'll have to watch my back twenty-four hours a day." He glanced at her. "At any rate, when we do get back I'm going to tell everyone I had an accident, that I slipped and fell and knocked myself out and you found me."

"Why not tell the truth? That someone tried to kill you?"

"I don't want whoever is behind this stunt to panic because everyone is searching for him. I want this person to feel confident so he'll try something else. I plan to get this son of a bitch, Caitlan."

She worried her bottom lip, her eyes clouding with concern. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

J.T. resented being disputed by a woman, especially one he didn't really know. He leaned close, making sure she saw how dead serious he was. "It doesn't matter much what you think, Caitlan. This is my ranch. While you're at the Circle R you'll follow my rules. Got that?"

Her chin thrust out and she met his gaze steadily. "Yes, sir."

Why did he get the feeling she was mocking him? "I owe you a great deal," he conceded softly. "You did save my life."

One of those secret smiles curved her mouth and she shrugged off his gratitude, as if saving lives was a regular habit of hers. "I just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

"Lucky me, huh?"

"I'd like to think so."

Something inside J.T. shifted at her softly spoken words. A sharp pang of emotion he vaguely recognized as longing pierced him. Rolling his shoulders to shrug off the sensation, he grasped her elbow and guided her around the tree. "Come on; let's get moving. Once the sun goes down it gets damn cold. No offense to the stew and peaches you made, but I have to admit I'm looking forward to Paula's chili and cornbread."

"No offense taken." Caitlan fell into step beside him as he started away from the creek through an open pasture. He let go of her arm and she lost that delicious warmth he seemed to generate within her. Curious to know more about him, and wanting to fill the silence between them, she asked, "Who's Paula?"

His stride was steady yet reserved, to save his energy for the long trek ahead. "My foreman's wife. She keeps an eye on my daughter, Laura, while I'm working. She cooks for us and takes care of the main house."

Caitlan slung the knapsack over her shoulder. "You have a daughter, but you're not married?"

"No."

The word was spoken with such finality, Caitlan automatically thought the worst. "Did your wife die?"

His gaze cut to hers, a sardonic smile on his lips. "No, she left me for something better and more exciting."

Caitlan's cheeks grew warm. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied, bitterness seeping into his deep voice. "It was for the best. She's been gone almost ten years."

His tone was cold and harsh and didn't welcome further scrutiny of his ex-wife. Casting a glance at the chiseled lines of his profile, she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the deep furrow of his brow. Both belied his attempt to remain unconcerned about the topic. "Don't you ever get… lonely? I mean, not having a wife and all?"

"No. I have Laura."

His pace picked up, forcing Caitlan to quicken hers to stay by his side. "That's not what I meant."

"The only thing I miss is a warm body to share my nights with. Sex, Caitlan." His jaw hardened and he shot her a scathing look. "Other than that, I don't have any use for a wife. And my personal life is really none of your business."

She glanced away. He was right, of course. Meddling in his affairs wasn't on her heavenly agenda, yet she found it odd he didn't want the intimacy and love that flowed between a man and a woman. Such emotion seemed to be the ultimate aspiration of most mortals.

An arctic gust kicked up, slicing through the warm sunshine to maliciously steal the warmth from their bodies. She shivered and watched J.T. flip the collar of his jacket around his neck to ward off the brisk breeze. Shoulders hunched, he tucked his hands into the lined pockets. The wind tugged at his hair, tousling the thick strands around his bent head. He seemed so much the loner, suddenly distant and remote, yet the glimpses of sincerity she'd seen told her he was a compassionate man who deserved the love of a good woman.

"I've never met anyone who didn't want to share his life with someone," she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

He heard her and met her gaze. "The person I wanted to share my life with died, Caitlan. I've never wanted anyone but her." The desolation in his eyes made his words that much more profound.

Instinctively, Caitlan knew the woman he spoke of was his eternal soulmate. But didn't J.T. realize he could find another to love while waiting for the woman of his heart? He only needed to allow himself the emotion to live out his years happily. "You could still be happy with someone else-"

Slicing a hand through the air, he cut her off, slanting her a look of disgust. "Don't tell me you're one of those females who believes in fairy tales and happily-ever-after."

"Well, yes, I believe everyone has a soulmate, and what's more-"

He interrupted her again. "I hate to be the one to burst the bubble you've been living in, little girl, but Cinderella and Prince Charming only exist in books. And 'soulmates' went out with the seventies."

His subtle insult made her bristle. "I'm hardly a little girl."

Stride slowing to a leisurely pace, he slid his gaze over her, lazily, thoroughly, making her feel as though he'd physically caressed the length of her with his hands. Heat suffused her body, making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other without wondering if her legs would hold out or turn to mush. She felt as if she was melting, which was ridiculous, considering the windchill factor. By the time he finished his inspection and had the good manners to lift his gaze from the vicinity of her breasts, she knew she was in big trouble.

"Pardon me, Ms. Daniels," he replied in a silky drawl that stroked over her senses and tickled her belly. "You're absolutely right. I take that back. You're very much a woman. Built quite nicely, I might add." A wicked, unrepentant grin curved his lips. "However, your philosophy on love is right along the mentality of my daughter's. She thinks everything is hearts and flowers. She's just discovering boys, so I can understand her romantic notions."

What could she say to top that? Nothing, so she didn't try. Once her mission with J.T. was over, she was going to discuss his single status with her Superiors. Surely there was someonefor him.

They walked into a channel between two grassy knolls. The sun struggled to break through the canopy of trees surrounding them and failed.

A shiver chased down her spine. "It's getting cold. Where are we?"

"We're still on Rafferty land. I'm taking a short cut to the main ranch road." He rubbed his forehead, frowning. "Just keep walking. It'll keep you warm and your blood pumping."

"Don't you want to stop and rest?" He looked tired, and she wouldn't be surprised if his head was throbbing. "Maybe have a drink of water and some beef jerky?"

He briefly glanced at the knapsack. "No. I want to get back to the house as soon as possible."

"Your head-"

"Is fine. I'll let you know if I need a break."

How am I suppose to take care of him and protect him when he won't let me? "Fine," she replied, deciding to play the game by his rules. "Just don't pass out on me, because I refuse to drag you back to the shack."

He chuckled softly, and Caitlan decided she loved the deep, rumbly sound. "I promise," he said.

The path they followed narrowed, the grass tapering to dirt and rocks. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her hand, enveloping her fingers in his. "Be careful; it's a little rough through here."

Caitlan stumbled over a cluster of small rocks, unsure if her balance had been knocked off kilter by the terrain or by the man whose hand held hers with such gentleness and care. As she careened toward him, his other hand shot out to steady her, landing on the swell of her hip. Shocked to the tips of her toes by the current of heat spreading where his fingers pressed into her flesh, she dropped the knapsack. The bag fell to the ground at her feet with a muted thump. Catching her breath, she stared into his eyes, watching as the orbs darkened in slow, tempered degrees.