Katelyn jerked in his direction, her eyes wide with the same surprise and fear as the deer, frozen, ears pricked, heads high, scenting him. Woman and animals stared as if he were evil incarnate.

Katelyn Green’s gaze scorched him like blue flame. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She sure sounded mad. She looked it, too. Dillon’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. And it was a good thing, too, since he didn’t know what to say anyway. Did he apologize for intruding? Was that why she was so angry?

“How could you? What kind of man are you?” She marched toward him, pure fury, and he had no notion what he’d done.

“I, uh…” Damn it, Hennessey. You can do better than that. “I’m, uh, sure am s-sorry, ma’am.”

“Sorry? For trying to kill the deer when I was feeding them? What did you think? That I wouldn’t mind if you just started shooting?”

“No, uh-” Dang it all, but he was tongue-tied. She flustered him worse than any woman ever had, the way she was flying up the hill toward him, focused anger and indignation.

She was pure beauty, with her face pinkened from the cold and high emotion, her small fists clenched, her hair flowing out behind her like a mare in full gallop. The passion in her showed.

No wonder he was speechless.

Then he realized he was holding the rifle still aimed in the direction of her deer, which had already fled into the trees and disappeared. There was only the two of them, and, flushing, he eased the hammer back and slid the weapon into its leather casing. “S-sorry about that, ma’am.”

“You’re sorry?” She looked ready to hurl sharp objects at his head. Good thing there weren’t any handy. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage like that. You’re a man. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised-”

He knew what she thought. “You’re wrong, ma’am. I s-saw some cat tracks back a ways and thought…” He couldn’t find the right word. What the hell was he going to say? She lifted her chin, staring at him expectantly with those fiery blue eyes accusing him of being the worst sort of man, and he just couldn’t think.

“I, uh, didn’t want to see you get hurt, ma’am,” he finished, but it wasn’t what he intended to say.

Had she noticed? All that stammering had to make him look bad.

“A cougar?” She seemed to be debating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Well, that was progress. Leastways she wasn’t ready to give him a lashing. And she wasn’t staring up at him like he was a stammering numbskull. That had to be a good sign. He sat straighter in the saddle.

“I’m Dillon Hennessey. I’m the horse trainer your stepfather brought in.” He tipped his hat.

White tumbled down his face and fell in a heap on his lap. Damn. He should have knocked the snow off before he tried making advances at the pretty lady. Had she noticed?

Sure she had. Her top teeth dug into her lush bottom lip to keep from laughing, and her eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement.

He withered a little inside. He’d acted like this before with women, but not in front of one that mattered so much. If he didn’t get over this blasted shyness, he would never find a wife. Never have a family of his own.

“Well, thank you for protecting me.” She was trying to be polite. A different light sparkled in those blue depths and the sadness in them, the pervasive sorrow he’d noticed before, had ebbed. “I’ll just fetch the feed pail and head home. I wouldn’t want to be cougar food.”

“Guess you probably don’t need to worry about that. Seein’ as you’d be too sweet for ’em.” Good job, Hennessey. He moaned internally at the words that just popped out of his mouth.

He had not said what he just said. He would never say anything as ridiculous as that. Right? If he tried hard enough, maybe he could forget he’d said it.

First he couldn’t speak, now he couldn’t shut up. He might as well have said, I’m sure interested in you, Katelyn Green. It would have left him with more dignity.

“I mean, I’ll keep watch as long as you’re out here.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound gruff, because he was a fearless rugged man, raised in the wilderness, half Nez Percé and a warrior.

She picked up her feed pail and brushed a lock of gold behind her ear, looking up at him through her thick lashes. “Then I guess I should apologize for being angry at you. I saw the gun and thought the worst. I’m sorry.”

She lifted her face, and in the soft daylight he could see plain as day the faint impression of a bruise on her far cheekbone the size of a man’s fist. The wind ruffled her hair and a thick shank of hair fell forward, hiding the mark.

Rage came to life in his chest. Hot and hard, like a kerosene fire until it threatened to burn out of control. His jaw clamped tight. His hands fisted. If the man she’d been married to was here right now, Dillon would be glad to teach him a lesson.

“I should be getting back.” She turned, avoiding his gaze, letting him know she wasn’t interested.

She walked away into the veil of falling snow. He couldn’t stand it, the way she was leaving like that.

“The deer must like you,” he called out, and grimaced. If he kept this up, she’d simply run away from him and his terrible attempts to talk with her. “I mean, it’s rare for them to come up to a person.”

Katelyn glanced over her shoulder, considered him, but kept walking.

“My grandfather could do that. Deer would approach him.”

Why did he keep trying to talk to her? Katelyn wondered. She kept walking, limping, because the pain was still with her. She felt the horseman’s eyes on her back like a touch.

“He had a way with animals.”

Had he taken a sparking to her? Katelyn turned toward him at the same moment he shrugged one big, snow-lined shoulder, and a row of snow tumbled off that broad perch to startle his horse. The mustang sidestepped, startling the rider.

“Whoa, boy.” Instead of sounding irritated or angry, the wrangler’s voice rumbled low and as warm as buttered rum. He stroked his sizable hand down the gelding’s neck, a gentle gesture for so powerful a man.

Katelyn shivered, wondering if his touch was as tender as it looked. But she knew there were no heroes made of honor and strength and tenderness in this cold, hard world.

Dillon Hennessey might be strong and seemingly kind and a little awkward when it came to speaking to a woman, but he was still a man and, like the cougar prowling these prairies, he would strike when he wished. He was more ruthless at heart. It was simply his nature.

Or was it? Every time she glanced over her shoulder, there was the outline of the man on his proud mustang, waiting on the crest of the rise, watching as the storm droned on, the rifle at his shoulder, ready but not threatening.

A protective warrior who remained steadfast and vigilant as she ambled carefully through the deepening snow.

Katelyn may not have had much time with the deer, but a quandary had been solved. At least she knew more about Dillon Hennessey. Remembering how he’d stammered and looked lost, that giant mountain of a man, made her smile.

She lifted the latch to the front gate. She was home, for now. When she turned to wave a thank-you to him, she saw only snow and wind and prairie.

The horseman had gone.

His image remained throughout the day and into the evening as twilight came early. After a slow bleeding of the sun, and the gray shadows had wrung all the light from the sky, darkness descended. Katelyn kept to her room with a single candle lit. She took supper on a tray but could not eat. She hadn’t been hungry in so long.

There was so much to consider, so much to think about. Fear nibbled at the corners of her courage, and she eased out of the chair in the corner and lifted the rug at the foot of the bed. There, beneath the floorboard she’d loosened, was her future. She unwrapped the cloth bundle carefully, cradling it in her hand. Even in the faint light from a single candle, the diamonds flashed and sparkled. The cold, multifaceted gemstones were framed in the gold of a necklace and two rings, gifts from her wealthy husband to his beloved wife.

Or, that’s what he told others at the dinner parties where he pretended to others that he was a fine, loving husband. And she could not tell the truth.

She hated every one of those stones. The wedding ring, the anniversary ring, the necklace he’d given her when she first learned she was pregnant and could be carrying his son.

Tears flooded her eyes and she willed them not to fall. The diamonds blurred into a rainbow glitter of pure, white light as she covered the jewelry, secured it well and tucked it back into its dark safe hiding place. As much as she hated the gems, they would buy her future. She planned to sell each piece and take pleasure in the knowledge that Brett couldn’t touch her, that she didn’t need him.

She didn’t need anyone.

She would make a new life. Alone. The way she wanted it to be.

“Katelyn?” Her stepfather’s voice on the other side of the door sounded harsh.

She dropped the edge of the fringed rug and stood, pain shooting through her as the door hinges whispered open, but it wasn’t fast enough. Cal Willman stood in the doorway, his cold eyes narrowed, his mouth pursed in thought. Or in calculation.

How much had he seen? She would have to find another hiding place, just in case. Her stepfather was the kind of man who took what he wanted. He was a big man, imposing, taller than the horseman, but all brute, and she shivered. She felt small and vulnerable, and she hated feeling so ill. Another week to recover and she would be gone, slipping off into the night as if she’d never been. She never need see him again.

“Is there some good reason for bursting in on me?” she said quietly.