The Rancher Who Took Her In (The Bachelors of Blackwater Lake) Page 6

  “Just a minute. I’m not finished.” She put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  Cabot felt the heat of her fingers clear through to his gut. It got his attention in all the wrong ways and all the right places. “Okay. What else have you got?”

  “I jumped at this job because I needed a time-out from my life. I wanted time to process what happened. How things went so badly. Get my head on straight and be able to do that in private.”

  They were standing so close that he could feel the heat of her body and smell the sweet floral scent of her skin. The combination smoldered inside him and he wanted to feel her everywhere. He needed to get away now.

  “All right, Kate. If you say that’s all there is to it, then I’ll go with that.”

  Again he started to turn away and she stopped him. “I get that you have no proof what I’m saying is the truth. It’s just words. So, donate my paycheck to the three-legged dog of your choice. Better yet, give it to your favorite charity. Wait—I know.” She pointed at him. “Build another stray cabin with it. Makes no difference to me.”

  Cabot’s willpower had been forged through crisis and disaster. In the years since his wife had walked out, he’d learned when to take someone on and when to walk away. It was all about survival. And right now his head was telling him to hit the road as fast as he could. The problem was other parts of him were telling him something else.

  His self-control couldn’t stand up to the force that was Kate. It felt as if he would burn up and blow away if he didn’t kiss her. So he did the only thing he could.

  He pulled her against him and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Five

  Kate tasted surprise and irritation on his lips and completely understood what he was feeling. It went double for her, along with the perversely conflicted inclination to stay like this for a good long time.

  Then the full effect of it hit her like a meteor suddenly slamming into Earth. She’d never expected to feel that kind of power just from kissing a man. His mouth was soft and warm, chasing away the mild coolness of the beautiful summer evening. He brushed his fingers over her neck, scattering tingles through her body like sparks from a campfire and just as potentially dangerous.

  Telling him to stop never crossed her mind. She realized that from the first moment she’d seen him, this was what she’d been hoping for. And maybe, just maybe, this was what it felt like to be swept away.

  She slid her hands over his solid chest, linked her wrists around his neck and toyed with his hair. Maybe that was some kind of a signal because he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, and when she opened for him, he entered her. He explored and caressed the sensitive interior of her mouth, making her want to feel his touch everywhere.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest and seemed to swell in anticipation of more intimate pleasure to come. Raising on tiptoe to meet his mouth more firmly, she couldn’t seem to get close enough. The sound of his harsh breathing combined with hers and drowned out the chirping crickets.

  He kissed her mouth, her neck, her cheek and gently nipped her earlobe, sending more tingles zinging over her arms and down her spine. Her pulse raced and her blood simmered and sizzled in her veins.

  His mouth began the sensuous task of reversing the path he’d just blazed when childish laughter echoed from one of the nearby cabins. Cabot froze for several seconds, then moved his lips away from hers.

  “Damn—” His voice was ragged and full of self-censure.

  “What?” she managed to ask. “Is something wrong? I don’t get—”

  He dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back, giving the night air space to come between their bodies and cool the heat they’d just generated. “This was a bad idea.”

  Define “bad idea,” Kate thought. She’d only recently refused to go through with her wedding. But fighting the moonlight was more than she could manage. She was breathless from the feel of his mouth. Most of all she was deeply missing his body so close to hers and the feel of his lips taking her somewhere she’d never been before.

  Bad idea? The words finally penetrated the sensuous haze fogging up her head and she wanted clarification. “What do you mean it was a bad idea?”

  “This is all my fault. I take full responsibility.”

  He was making it sound as if kissing her was wrong. It sure hadn’t felt wrong to her.

  “I agree that you started it,” she said. “But if a line was crossed, I think a case could be made for sharing accountability equally. But I’m not seeing the problem here.”

  “I wish I wasn’t seeing it,” he muttered.

  “So, enlighten me.”

  Cabot dragged his fingers through his hair and she felt a great deal of satisfaction in the fact that his hand was shaking. “For starters, two weeks ago you ran out on your wedding.”

  “Yeah.” That had just crossed her mind, too. And something else. She’d never felt like this when “the jerk” had kissed her. Proof that she’d never been in love with him. And, although she didn’t really want to focus on this aspect right now, it was also proof that her judgment in men was questionable. “What’s your point?”

  “When a woman tells you she’s taking a time-out, a break to get her head on straight, it crosses a bad line to kiss her. That wasn’t smart of me.”

  She disagreed, and every sensually deprived nerve ending in her body was protesting, too. In spite of the intensity tightening his features, or maybe because of it, she felt compelled to argue.

  “Sometimes a kiss has nothing to do with IQ or rational thought and everything to do with pure instinct.”

  “I’m not going to do this with you. Nothing good can come of debating the pros and cons of what just happened. And I say that because there’s something more important going on here.”

  Admittedly her thought-processing mechanism was scrambled at the moment, but she couldn’t think of anything that trumped chemistry and attraction. “I’ll bite. Why are we making a federal case out of this?”

  He angled his head toward the cabins. “What if any of the kids wandered down here and saw us?”

  “They’re not supposed to do that without a counselor present.”

  “Right. And kids have never broken rules before.” His tone dripped sarcasm. “Parents entrusted their children to me and it would be a violation of that trust if one of their kids came across me kissing one of the counselors. An employee,” he added.

  “I see where you’re coming from,” she admitted. “But witnessing a kiss between a man and woman who are both single would hardly scar a child for life. Although, darn it, you do have a point.”

  “I’m glad you understand because it’s not a chance I’m willing to take.” He moved another step away from her. “I’m sorry, Kate. As you said, I started it. My fault entirely. And I promise you that it will never happen again.”

  Maybe just one more time, she thought. An experiment to see whether or not she’d really been swept away or just treading water.

  But he turned and walked back the way he’d come, and the sight of his retreating back proved the wisdom of “show, don’t tell” when making a point. He could stand there and say until hell wouldn’t have it that the kiss was wrong and would never happen again, but leaving her in the dust said loud and clear that he took that pledge seriously.

  How much of his action was motivated by sense of duty? How much was provoked by his sense of violated trust because his wife had broken her word to stay? And how much was prompted by the reality that he might still be in love with her?

  Kate would probably never know the answers to those questions because Cabot Dixon impressed her as the sort who would maintain his distance because he always kept his promises.

  In a man, that was both a blessing and a curse. And that frustrated her.

  * * *

>   This wasn’t Kate’s first time sitting around a campfire, but it had never been part of her job before. Tonight they were bidding farewell to the kids who were staying for only a week. Others would be with them for another seven days and some were staying all summer.

  The circular fire pit was made up of well-charred cinder blocks from past send-offs. It was located in an open area away from trees, shrubs and structures and not far from the lake, which offered them a view of the moon shining on the water.

  Gotta watch out for that moonlight, she reminded herself. It could make a person do crazy things, like kiss a cowboy.

  Kate was relieved that she wasn’t leaving the camp until the end of the summer. But for the boys and girls who were going home, she felt a little sad.

  Adults and children would sit around the fire on logs permanently placed there along with folding chairs that could be moved around as needed. The group had finished a final meal of salad, sloppy joes and chips, then filed out of the dining room and down to the fire pit. Two little girls, blonde Emily and dark-haired Hannah, had moved beside her and each grabbed one of her hands.

  Kate was surprised. She’d interacted with all the kids and was friendly but firm. No one had been clingy until now. Probably that was a sign they were sad to leave.

  “Hey, Em. Hannah.” She smiled at the girls, who were ten and eleven, respectively. “How was dinner?”

  “Good,” they both said.

  “I can’t wait for s’mores.” Emily skipped along, always full of energy until lights-out.

  Hannah, tiny for her age, moved her short legs as fast as she could to keep up. “I just want a toasted marshmallow. Gooey and sticky. The boys usually just let them catch on fire.”

  “Ew,” Kate said. “That’s like eating ashes.”

  “Oh, they don’t eat them,” Emily explained. “It’s the only way they’re allowed to play with fire.”

  “I guess that’s the way boys are,” Kate agreed.

  But Cabot was a man, and she figured cowboys had a different way of playing with fire.

  The moon overhead was a reminder of Cabot starting a fire inside her. She hadn’t seen him since he’d kissed her by the lake; the residual embers from that searing kiss refused to go out.

  “I wish this wasn’t my last night.” Hannah’s voice was wistful.

  “Me, too. Next year I want to stay longer,” her ponytailed friend agreed. “I’m going to miss you, Hannah.”

  “Where do you live?” They reached the fire-pit area, and Kate looked around for two seats together for the girls. “Close enough to visit?”

  “No.” Emily shook her head. “I live in Dallas and Hannah is from Seattle.”

  “That’s too far for a sleepover,” Kate admitted. “You could exchange email addresses and phone numbers and keep in touch.”

  “That’s what we decided,” Hannah told her. She pointed to an empty space on one of the logs. “Why don’t you sit between us over there?”

  “Maybe after s’mores,” she said. “I have to be up and around to help anyone who might need it. You girls go ahead and sit. Save me a place if you can.”

  The fire was already a healthy blaze, snapping and popping, bathing the area in a golden glow as it kept the shadows at bay around the circle. A quick glance told her all the campers were gathered around, although she didn’t see Tyler. She’d noticed during the week that he wasn’t always there for meals with the other kids. He could come and go; his presence or absence likely was based on his father’s work schedule.

  Caroline had a cardboard box containing metal skewers, graham crackers, chocolate squares and marshmallows. She was going to supervise making s’mores and was probably packing a fire extinguisher for anyone who decided to play with fire. Kate and the other counselors were going to handle simple roasting.

  She’d thought kids plus fire would equal chaos and had stressed about keeping the campers safe and happy. But the activity was completely organized. The counselors knew what they were doing. On the first day everyone had been divided into groups, and tonight the kids waited for their color to be called before taking a turn at roasting a marshmallow or putting together s’mores.

  She assisted a boy in getting his marshmallow firmly on the skewer, then managed to convince him it was beautifully toasted before it went up in flames. S’mores she left to Caroline and the other adults experienced in that process.

  The last group was almost taken care of when she heard her name called. She turned and saw Ty running toward her.

  He stopped, nearly out of breath, and said, “Hi.”

  “Hey. Where were you? I didn’t see you at dinner and worried you wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the kids.”

  “Dad took me to town and we went to the Grizzly Bear Diner. I needed new shoes and this was the only time he could take me. Mine are too small.” He looked down at the old, ratty sneakers. “But he wouldn’t let me wear the new ones tonight.”

  “I don’t blame him. It’s pretty dusty out here.”

  He looked up, his big eyes full of childish innocence and wonder about why that mattered. “They’re just gonna get dirty tomorrow.”

  She laughed and ruffled his hair. “I guess it’s just a dad thing that he’d like them to stay new for at least twenty-four hours.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Don’t you want a s’more?” she asked.

  “Nah. I had a Grizzly Bear burger and I’m stuffed.”

  “Maybe later,” she suggested.

  After everyone who wanted a s’more had been taken care of, Hannah and Emily ran over to her and grabbed her hands with their still-sticky fingers. Their freckled faces were streaked with chocolate. “Come sit with us now,” they both pleaded.

  She looked at the little boy. “Let’s make room for Ty.”

  “Okay.” Hannah grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

  So the four of them sat together on the log and somehow Ty ended up next to her on one side, with Emily on the other. Hannah sat beside the little boy. When they were settled, Kate glanced up and saw Cabot on the other side of the pit watching her. Just like that it wasn’t the fire making her warm, but more memories of the man who’d held her close.

  That night had been chilly and clear, just like it was now. But with the fire throwing so much light, the stars were hard to see, unlike when she’d been in Cabot’s arms. That setting couldn’t have been more romantic if it had been created for a Hollywood movie.

  Her pulse was hammering now just like it had then. Her breasts tingled, remembering the feeling of being held close and tight to his wide chest. It was disconcerting to realize she’d never reacted so strongly to a man’s kiss before. And the glaring intensity in his expression right now was a clue that he’d felt something, too, and wasn’t any happier about it than she was.

  “Okay, kids, it’s time for awards.” Jim Shields, the tall, good-looking chief counselor, was standing by the pit in the center of the area. “First is Red Group, the overall winner of the Color War.”

  The kids in that group cheered and high-fived, then lined up to receive a ribbon.

  “Greens, you came in first for water sports.”

  Another round of applause went up as the children got in line to receive their first-place prizes.

  “Next is yellow for arts and crafts. This is probably the most artistically talented group of campers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

  Everyone clapped and cheered the artistic accomplishments of the yellow group. They were a little quieter than the others but no less pleased. Kate realized that no child would leave camp without an acknowledgment of their skill and participation in whatever activity they’d chosen. No one would be made to feel insecure or less than anyone else.

  “Last, but certainly not least, we have the blues. And
it’s not about being sad that you’re going home tomorrow.” That got a laugh. “This group has excelled in animal care. The horses, cows, goats, lambs, dogs and cats are really going to miss you guys. Come on up.”

  After the children had taken their ribbons and found a seat again, Jim looked around at everyone sitting on the logs or in chairs. “This year we decided to give out a new and special award for our newest counselor. Kate, come on up.”

  She wasn’t unaccustomed to being in the spotlight or under public pressure, but not with a man looking on whom she’d kissed in the moonlight a couple of nights ago. It didn’t help that this man was also her boss.

  She shook her head, trying to decline, but someone who might have been Caroline started a chant. “Kate! Kate! Kate!”

  Sighing, she stood and walked over to the chief counselor. “I don’t deserve an award.”

  “Wait until you hear what it is.” He grinned, then looked out at the gathering. “Kate takes first place in the klutziest-counselor category. For tripping over the soccer ball instead of kicking it.”

  Her knees were still skinned from that humiliating episode. “Not my finest hour.”

  “Also for trying to do a header at soccer practice and almost knocking herself out.”

  “Soccer is not my best sport,” she admitted.

  “Neither is basketball—” Laughing and hooting erupted as the kids called out teasing comments. “Enough said on that.”

  “No one is perfect.”

  “This award is also for being a good sport about it all. And doing your best even though it wasn’t pretty.”

  “Thanks.” She took her ribbon, and for some reason her gaze drifted to Cabot.

  His mouth was pulled tight and hard, but she remembered his lips being soft and arousing. He was either recalling their kiss or planning on terminating her employment for lack of ball skills. At least she was good for the kids’ self-esteem. She’d made them all look good because she was so bad.

  When she went back to her seat, Emily and Ty made room for her. She noticed that the ribbon said Number One Goofball and she laughed. Her Olympic teammates would think this was hilarious.