Although, looking like she did, Cait knew Win couldn’t possibly have any type of indecent thoughts of her, she enjoyed his gentle touch. After hating him for so long, she couldn’t figure out how she could have tender feelings for him again. Was she that starved for intimate contact that she could be swayed so easily by a simple deed? Even from a man she had considered hunting down and putting out of her misery?

“You’re right. I’d best go clean up and get some sleep,” Cait said, suddenly not liking where her thoughts were headed. She glanced at the mare. “Everything’s gone well so I don’t think she’ll have any trouble with the afterbirth.”

“Do you want me to stand guard?” Win asked.

Normally, she wouldn’t have worried, but knowing there was a mountain lion nearby and that he’d surely smell the blood… “It’s not what you signed on for.”

His lips quirked upward. “I didn’t sign on for a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I mind doing them.”

Even as a boy Win had been generous. While most little boys stuck girls’ pigtails in inkwells, Win rescued butterflies and bruised hearts. She blinked at the sudden sting of moisture in her eyes. Why had that kindhearted, compassionate boy left her without so much as a goodbye ten years ago?

“Are you all right?” The concern in Win’s voice only made her more teary. “What’s wrong, Caity?”

He hadn’t called her Caity since…

She picked up her rifle and thrust it at him. “You might need this.” She whirled around and dashed away, her mind aswirl and her emotions seesawing like an uneven teetertotter.

Chapter Six

WIN SHIFTED HIS backside on the cold, unforgiving ground. Even with a blanket wrapped around him, the night’s chill had seeped into his bones. The predawn glow illuminated the eastern horizon and gave the surrounding mountain peaks a coral blush.

A butterfly flitted past and Win followed its erratic flight from one resting place to another. Win could almost envision Cait in her pigtails and overalls scampering after it. He’d asked her one time why she tried catching them and she’d told him, in her little grownup voice, that she wanted to give them a home. He’d told her each butterfly already had a home and if she caught it, it’d never find its way back. She’d thought about that for a full day before she started chasing them again.

Win had spent most of the night thinking about Cait, trying to figure out why she was so prickly one minute and soft and sweet the next. Despite his vow to keep his distance from her, he found himself looking for reasons to get nearer.

And that damned kiss. He tried to tell himself it was to prove her wrong, that there was still something between them. But the honesttoGod truth was he’d wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to do a hell of a lot more, too, but his napping conscience had finally awakened and kicked him in the ass.

Last night had been a test of his resolve, and he’d nearly failed. But how could any man ignore what lay beneath the filmy gown she’d worn? Intimate memories of her had only made it more difficult. He’d managed to hold on to his sanity by a thin thread and had escaped into the barn while she’d gone to watch over the mare.

However, when he’d watched Cait pull the foal from its mother and her brilliant smile afterward, he’d felt something fracture within him. Something he’d fought against ever since he’d ridden out of her life was slowly eroding his determination.

He pressed himself upright and stretched, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles. The mountain lion hadn’t returned, but Win didn’t know if it was because the cat was long gone, or because it had smelled a human near the horses. Either way, the mare and her newborn filly, which was now sucking greedily on her mother’s teat, were doing well.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Cait walking toward him. She wore clean tan trousers, a brown and green plaid shirt, and no hat. Her long blond braid swayed with her stride that was both purposeful and feminine. The picture was marred, however, by her somber expression, which was absent of vulnerability and softness.

“No problems,” Win said before she could ask.

She didn’t meet his gaze, but studied the mare and foal. “The afterbirth?”

“No problems there either. I took care of it about an hour ago.”

“Thanks.”

Silence surrounded them and Win didn’t feel the need to disturb it. He was tired, not only from the sleepless night, but from Cait’s mercurial moods.

She finally turned toward him. “Breakfast is about ready.”

He merely nodded and they walked quietly back to the cabin, where he washed up and shaved before coming to the table. The meal was eaten in silence.

“When will you need my help with Deil?” Cait asked as she cleared the table.

Win noticed the barely perceptible shudder that passed through her. “Are you certain you want to help?”

She met his gaze steadily. “No, but I’ll do it anyhow.”

Startled by her honesty, Win leaned forward, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “He’s only a horse, Cait, not Satan himself. He didn’t kill your father out of meanness or hatred, but because of his nature. By putting him in a pen you took everything away from him and he’s fighting back the only way he knows how.”

“You make him sound human.”

Win shook his head. “No, you’re the one who’s making him human. Hating him for killing your father is like”-he struggled to find the right comparison-“like blaming a gopher for your horse tripping in a hole.”

Cait stared at him, her features blank, but he knew she was considering his words. She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t like gophers much either.”

Win spotted the barest twinkle in her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Me neither, but I don’t blame them for doing what they were born to do.”

Cait took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I understand what you’re saying, Win, but Deil is different. When I look in his eyes, I get the feeling he knows exactly what I’m thinking.” She shivered and rubbed her arms where goosebumps rose. “He scares me.”

“I suppose if I’d seen him trample my father, I’d feel the same way.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever stop hating him,” Cait confessed, her voice husky.

“You will. Someday.”

The sound of a horse’s hooves interrupted them, and Win stepped over to the window. A man dismounted by the hitching post and strode toward the house, raising a cloud of dust as he slapped his hat against his thigh. Although ten years had passed since he’d seen him last and the man had gained a few pounds, Win recognized him. His breakfast settled like a cannonball in his belly.

“It’s Frank Duffy,” he said to Cait.

She frowned. “What’s he doing here?”

“He used to work for your pa now and again, didn’t he?”

“Until he signed on fulltime with Crowley’s outfit five years ago.”

“Miz Brice, you in there?” Duffy called out, pounding on the door.

Cait swung open the door. “Morning, Frank. What brings you here so early?”

The big man’s gaze shifted past Cait to Win, who stood with his arms folded over his chest. Duffy’s eyes widened then narrowed. “Taylor?”

“Hello, Duffy.”

“Never thought I’d see you back here.”

Win could feel the tension in the cabin rise, and saw Cait’s puzzled frown as she noticed it, too. “Tremayne wanted me to tame a horse for Cait.”

“That black devil?”

Win nodded.

“He killed Brice. The murderin’ sonofabitch oughta be shot.”

“What do you want, Frank?” Cait interrupted, her tone sharp.

Duffy swung his attention back to Cait. “Beulah Grisman’s at Doc’s place. It don’t look good.”

Cait’s face paled. “What happened?”

“Doc didn’t say. Just asked me to let you know on my way back to the ranch. He said the old lady’s askin’ for you.”

“How long has she been there?”

“Guess she come into town yesterday and went straight to Doc’s.” Duffy shrugged his meaty shoulders. “That’s all

I know.”

Cait’s frightened eyes met Win’s. “I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Win offered immediately.

“No. Someone has to stay around in case the cat comes back.”

“Cat?” Duffy interjected. “You got problems with a mountain lion?”

“There was one hanging around the mares last night,” Win answered. “One of the mares foaled overnight so there’s a good chance the lion will come back.”

“I’d best let my boss know. He’ll want to put out some extra guards.” Duffy eyed Win. “You plannin’ on stickin’ around?”

“I’m only staying until I break the stallion.”

“Glad to hear it.”

What Duffy didn’t say was just as loud as his words. Frank Duffy was one of those men who didn’t like Indians, and always made a point to badger Win when they were alone.

“I’d best get back to work. Spring’s a busy time,” Duffy said.

“Thank you for letting me know,” Cait said.

“Yes, ma’am. I hope everything works out. Beulah ain’t the most likable, but she’s been around these parts for longer’n most of us.” Duffy backed out of the cabin. “Bye, Miz Brice.” He glanced at Win and said with less warmth, “Taylor.”

Cait closed the door behind him and leaned against it. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Are you all right?” Win asked, concerned by her pallor.

She nodded, then grabbed her hat from the rack and opened the door, but paused before running out. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Win squeezed her shoulder gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the chores around here.”

Cait closed her eyes and swallowed. When her eyelids flickered open, her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“She means a lot to me, Win. I owe her my life.”

“Your life?”